Late Night with Andres (6 page)

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Authors: Debra Anastasia

BOOK: Late Night with Andres
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“I loved my toe!” Milla’s eyes filled with tears. “I love flip flops. Can you even wear a flip flop with no baby toe?”

She cried softly into her hands. The Devil’s Fart was close to her again. She smelled him first, then heard him.

“I think flip flops are low class.”

Milla snapped. She whipped her head in Fart’s direction and punched him right in his horrible face. Once, twice, and then a third time. She tried to punch him until he died, but Gage stopped her.

“Don’t. He’s got a bomb, remember?” Gage pulled her to his bare chest, which honestly, was a little pale, but his sweet abs made up for the lack of tan.

The Devil’s Fart started screaming through his nose. He sounded like a human-sized tea kettle. Like Mrs. Potts on her period.

“Yeah, I remembered the bomb. I just hate him a lot.” Milla looked up from Gage Daxson’s arms.

As Fart descended into madness, Gage gave her a crooked smile and offered, “I think I like you.”

Chapter 9

Boom Boom POW!

J
OEY
K
ICKED
I
N
T
HE
D
OOR
that led to the supply closet. Andres and Peter startled and tried to cut to commercial as the policeman stomped into the small room.

“I thought so.” He pulled his walkie off his belt and keyed the mic. “Sir, I’ve got them. Send a few people to the first floor, if you can spare ’em.”

Andres tried sweet-talking the cop. “Listen, son, this here is my job. I keep the public apprised of the situation in my studio.”

Joey just smiled as his back up arrived. He spun Andres into a quick restraint while cuffing him.

“You’re arresting me? No! I’ve not broken a law. Not a single one.” Andres started to struggle.

“No, pops, you’re not being arrested. I’m just assisting the elderly—up to my boss.”

Joey pulled Andres in the direction of the stairwell. When the protesting Andres and his faithful-yet-quiet assistant reached the hallway above the bomb-filled dressing room, Detective Brun was not amused.

“Tell me how the new guy got into the vent.” He seemed to be doing eight other things while waiting for the response.

“I will do no such thing. The events in that room are fated to come to fruition.” Andres did his best to look dignified and knowledgeable.

“You prickly old dickbag. The only event you can be sure of is that I’ll be digging so far into your past when this whole thing is over that I’ll be able to slap you coming out of your mother’s vagina. Every tax, every paper, every ticket you ever had better be in order. Plus, there are all the new charges I’ll be bringing you up for, including obstructing justice.” Brun had finally put his whole, considerable attention on Andres.

Andres withered a bit but maintained, “The press has rights!”

“Absolutely. I totally agree with that statement. But your hair? It has no rights. Joey, go get me the dog clippers from the canine car. We’re shaving this bastard’s hair to find out if he’s concealing any weapons in that rat’s nest.”

Brun reached up and petted the top of Andres’ high-packed hair. It bounced like a crinkly bed.

“No! Fine. I’ll tell you.” Andres flinched away from Brun’s hand. “He crawled in the air vent. I’ll show you where.”

Brun nodded for the old man to walk and shook his head when Andres rattled his handcuffs.

“If I fall? That’s on you.” Andres started off.

“I think you should count your blessings if I don’t trip you.” Brun poked Andres in the back to speed him up.

Two flights down, the entrance vent was flopped open. Price, a female SWAT team member pulled herself up into it, followed by her partner. Guns were passed to them.

“Get him outside in a car. Stay with him and the other one until this is over.” Joey put his hand on Andres’ shoulder.

“Yes, sir.”

“I deserve an exclusive. I want to be here when the hostages get out. Or at least have access to the room with the dead bodies!” Andres shouted in Brun’s direction.

Rocco just gave him a dismissive wave and turned to the laptop one of the team members had propped open to watch the surprise assault. The video feed was clear, but not clear enough to tell if the perp really had a functioning bomb strapped to his chest.

“O’hann. How is it I have to threaten a senior citizen instead of you doin’ your job?” Brun was back to doing a million things at a time again, including dressing down his crew.

“Sir, this is a very old building. It makes no sense that the vent entrance is here, below the actual room.” O’hann looked embarrassed.

“A random bodyguard off the street figured it out.” Brun held his finger up for silence. He listened to his SWAT team as they whispered their findings. The laptop glowed with a creepy green night-vision view of the inside of a very dirty air vent.

“Almost to the top of this vertical vent. Going off com in three, two…” Price’s voice dropped off.

A few minutes later the laptop screen seeped from green to full color. The conversation had turned deadly and heated. And it was now in stereo from the combined surveillance feed and Price’s microphone.

“All the things will die!” The perp held a device connected to the bomb. “My girlfriend decided to leave, and now, to show her, I’ll take from her—the advice giver. You’ll think twice before you get involved in anyone else’s business!”

A pale, slumped over Milla Kierce gave him the finger. “Fuck you, asshole. If you kill me I won’t be thinking at all. Crap, you’re a dimwit. Best thing she ever did was leave you.”

Brun analyzed the room, watching his bomb squad for any indication on the type of explosives they might be dealing with, but a part of his brain gave the girl a round of applause.
Thatagirl
. The rock star wisely covered the sharp-tongued woman’s mouth, whispering in her ear. He watched as the expert mouthed,
It’s real
. Brun shook his head and motioned with his hand to pull out, also giving the command in Price’s ear. His vent SWAT team backed out a hell of a lot quicker than they went in. Price was mad when she stood in front of him again, as usual.

“Brun, I can get him. One bullet ends this thing. I’m going back.”

“Price.”

She paused.

“We can’t tell if the bomb goes off when he pushes the button, or when he lets go of it.”

“So we just leave? That’s it?” She turned and faced Rocco.

“Yeah. We leave. I can’t risk my people. I’ll continue negotiations by phone from outside.” Brun hooked his thumbs in his pockets. He noted her reluctance. “It’s an order. I save your life, and you keep your job. It’s a win-win.”

She cursed under her breath and pointed up to the room in question. “Not for them it’s not. This sucks.”

Price stomped out the door. Rocco looked at the vent hanging open. A few years ago he would have jumped right in, but it made the most sense to leave.

Chapter 10

Bad News

G
AGE
C
URSED
H
ER
in his head as she bit his hand—hard. She was half passed out and still fighting against him and the crazy man with the bomb. She might be a big pain in the ass in the real world. She sure wasn’t helping here.

He caught Sydney’s eye. The big bodyguard looked calm and sedate. Gage knew he was anything but. They locked eyes again, and Sydney scratched his head with four fingers. Gage knew they would move after a countdown of four. They were tensed and ready by the three. But Sydney was a liar. He took off by himself on two. Gage started after him immediately, but the big man was in the way. A gunshot didn’t stop Sydney’s forward movement, but the second shot took his leg out from under him. Gage tripped and fell on top of his friend’s body. He would have continued on, finishing what Sydney started, but the crazed man was not pointing the pistol in Gage’s direction. He had it trained on Milla.

Gage looked from the woman struggling to stay awake to the crazed man. This was a horrible standoff. He eased off of Sydney’s back and turned his attention to his friend. The bodyguard’s deep brown eyes fluttered open.

“How bad?” Gage had to know.

“Bad.” Sydney’s voice was flecked with pain.

“I’m not losing you. Not today.” Gage’s mind cried at the blood pooling under his friend. He expected a smart-ass remark, but instead there was silence.

The psycho man started laughing. “God, that felt so good! I just love that!”

The man turned his back on Milla and scrunched down so he was eye level with Gage. “Maybe I’ll just kill you guys and see how many more I can take out.”

Gage was trying to decide when to lunge, praying the whole time that Sydney was still alive, when the air shifted. He kept his eyes still, but the girl was up and ready to do something. She was wobbly, but quiet. And really, really pissed. Gage focused on the bomb’s button. Just as the girl swung, he jumped, pressing on top of the crazy man’s finger. The gun was level with Gage’s face as he worked to place his own finger on the button. The girl rained punches on the gunman’s head.

“Harder!” Gage screamed.

With her last punch, the man went limp. She gasped and pulled the gun away from him.

Staggering backward toward Sydney, Gage looked at his finger. He was pressing the button. All he had to do was not let go. “This must be a release trigger or a fake,” he said, mesmerized by it.

“Don’t let go,” Milla suggested.

She was bleeding from her foot again, but she was too busy checking on Sydney to care.

“I won’t let go.” Gage tried to clear his mind of the worry, the concern.

“Don’t let go,” the girl ordered again before checking for Sydney’s pulse. “He’s still got a heartbeat. Don’t let go.”

“I won’t let go.” Gage hoped all his guitar playing gave him an exceptionally sturdy grip. “Is he breathing?”

She laid her head on the man’s chest. “Yeah, it’s shallow, but it’s there. Don’t let go.”

Gage felt grateful tears rim his eyes. “I won’t let go. Apply pressure.” He kept an eye on the gunman, making sure the man wasn’t coming to.

“Pressure hurts. Maybe you should kill the Devil’s Fart.” The girl scrambled for a blanket and held pressure to Sydney’s knee.

“What did you just say?” Gage wondered if she was delusional.

Through the broken door came a guy wearing a suit who looked pretty damn scary.

“Don’t let go, dude.” He busted through the rest of the door and made way for two more of his buddies to enter.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Gage really didn’t want to die this close to some other guy’s nuts. “My friend has been shot. He needs help. And the girl has a toe wound.”

“Well, you hang on there for a minute while I figure this thing out, and we can all leave. I’m Brett. Nice to meet you.” The bomb guy wisely did not offer to shake hands.

The two other bomb squad members prepared Sydney to be moved.

“Hey, Ms. Kierce, do you think you could make it over here?” A handsome police officer motioned to her.

“What about that guy?” She pointed at Gage.

He tried not to be angry. They had kissed, they had sweated together in this room for God knows how long. And she called him
that guy?

“I’m Detective Brun, Ms. Kierce, and my men will take good care of the singer.” He motioned for her to come through the door.

“Call me Milla.” Her gaze caught Gage’s. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Go.” He tried not to feel jealous as Brun moved in and scooped her up in his arms.

“Sorry, Milla, but my men have to get through here with that victim. Best you don’t walk on that foot anyway.”

Gage squeezed the button a little too hard as he heard their fading conversation.

“Call me Rocco. You’re one hell of a brave chick. Ever think of joining the force?”

A bomb squad member interrupted Gage’s eavesdropping when he shot the gunman in the neck. He smiled at Gage through a clear mask. “Just making sure this guy stays down. Little tranquilizer never killed anyone.”

They lifted Sydney through the remains of the door, and Gage took it as a good sign that no one was doing CPR on the bodyguard.

“Too bad. This asshole could use a little death.” Gage tried to stretch his tense muscles.

Another bomb squad member came in bearing protective clothing for Gage. They covered him as best they could while the lead man inspected the device.

“So, am I going out with a bang or what?” Gage expected a smile from the little crowd.

“Okay, Gage, I have some bad news and some really bad news. Which do you want first?”

Chapter 11

Honey

M
ILLA
H
UGGED
T
HE
N
ECK
of the policeman. He wore just a black T-shirt and a pair of pants with lots of pockets. Mentally she thanked the designer of this new Friday-casual style for cops. Because it was really working for this guy.

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