Redhead Meets Redneck: First Date (15 page)

“Throw this to them when the
y get close.”

Laura held the rope and waited. She
couldn’t believe she was going to be doing this. If things went well, she was going to kill another person, maybe two. She needed to calm herself and focus. She couldn’t think about whether they might have a family, a wife, kids. After all, they were terrorists. She needed to focus on using the pistol, and maybe the knife.

William was now holding the rifle over his head, and the skiff was slowing down. The terrorists were now both holding their rifles in the ready position, with the barrels pointed at William. Laura was standing far to the right of William, and slightly behind him.
She held the rope as if she wanted to throw it towards the terrorists. They were still focused on William, so she waved it a bit. The terrorist in the front of the skiff noticed, and relaxed slightly, the front of his rifle dropped slightly and he reached out his hand as if he was going to catch the rope. Laura waited a couple of seconds until he was within throwing distance, and then heaved the rope with all her might. The rope was thick and hit him in the face. He stumbled backwards.

“Now would be a good time.” William’s voice was just above a whisper.

Laura reached behind her and retrieved the pistol. She raised it to eye level, paused a fraction of a second, just long enough for the sights to settle on the center of the chest of the terrorist in the back of the skiff.

Two nine millimeter bullets slammed into his chest.

A third slammed into his face. He slumped over and fell. The lower half of his body was inside the boat, the upper half was outside and his face was dragging through the water, as both boats were still moving forward.

The other terrorist now raised his rifle, and at the same time ducked low in the skiff so he was barely visible.
William lowered his rifle, shouldered it, and took aim at the terrorist. But the terrorist fired first. Laura saw a bullet hole appear in the back of William’s shirt, near the left of center, just where his heart was. He collapsed into the bottom of the cockpit on top of the shotgun as blood squirted out of the hole in his chest.

The terrorist crawled to the back of the skiff
by the outboard motor and turned the throttle to full speed. Next he pushed the other terrorist overboard, his body floating face down. The skiff surged forward with renewed speed because of the lighter load.

Laura stood still, shocked at the sight of William lying motionless in the boat, the blood now oozing from his chest.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

Looking up
, she saw the skiff approaching fast. It was pulling up to the side of the sailboat. As the skiff neared the side of the sailboat, the terrorist stood on the edge  and crouched. Then he lunged at the sailboat, almost making the full distance. His foot caught on the edge of the sailboat and he tumbled into the cockpit, knocking Laura over and landing on top of her. Jumping up, he kicked the gun out of her hand and sneered through clenched teeth, “I have you now!”

Laura pushed on the cockpit floor with her hands and feet as she tried to get away. She slid awkwardly towards the stairs, turned and crawled through the hatch, taking one last look at the
lifeless, motionless body that lay in the bottom of the cockpit. She jumped into the kitchen, completely bypassing the stairs. The terrorist was right behind her. When she landed, she fell, and the shock of hitting the floor stunned her. The terrorist grabbed her by her hair and dragged her to the sink where he pushed her head under the faucet and turned the water on full blast. She gurgled and tried to hold her breath, but the strong flow of water was pushing its way into her nostrils and mouth. Finally she gave in and inhaled. The cold suffocating water triggered a gagging reaction. The terrorist relaxed and pulled her head out from the flowing water.

“Are we having fun yet?” His eyes narrowed. “We have all afternoon. Let’s take our time and do this right. I want to enjoy every millisecond of this. I have dreamed of doing this for months.”

He pulled her head toward the sink again. Laura yelled, “What do you want?”

“I want two things. First I want to see the look of fear on your face as I slowly bring you to the brink of death. Then I want the satisfaction of having you tell me all about the database that you manage.”

He continued pushing her head toward the sink. Laura twisted her head just enough to have eye contact with him. “The brink of death, huh? Take this—”

Laura pulled the knife from the sheath beneath her top. She slashed at the only thing within her reach, his hand. A long red line widened
across his hand as blood flowed from the cut. The terrorist screamed and stepped backwards. Laura felt his grip loosen slightly, and took the opportunity to turn to face him. Months of training kicked in and she advanced toward him with the knife low. As the distance narrowed, she sliced upwards, the knife doing its magic and leaving a long red line that started at his abdomen and stretched upward to his ear. Then, after raising the knife over her head, she slammed it into his chest, pushing it until the hilt met his skin. Yanking it out, she raised it and slammed into his chest again, and again, and again . . .

Laura lost count of how many times she stabbed the terrorist. When he collapsed on the floor of the kitchen, she continued to violently stab his motionless body.
Not just because she wanted to be sure that she was dead, but also because he had killed William.

Laura, drained
from stabbing, and distraught over William’s death, dropped the knife, and collapsed on the floor. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t. She didn’t have the energy, physically or emotionally. She lay motionless on the carpet, her cheek resting in a pool of the terrorist’s blood. She didn’t try to move. She just lay there thinking about the image of the bullet as it exited the back of William, right where his heart was. His heart was destroyed by the terrorist, and now her heart was broken, losing the man she had so quickly fallen in love with.

As Laura lay there she listened to the sounds of the waves gently breaking against the side of the sailboat and the ropes
slapping against the mast with each wave, she wished that William was alive and would ask her to marry him. She wanted him to take her sailing on a sunny day. She would pack a picnic lunch, and they would eat it in the cockpit. Later they could have a nice dinner in the saloon. Then they could have a romantic evening, anchored in a small remote cove.

These were painful thoughts, but she
couldn’t stop thinking about them.

“Laura . . . Laura . . .” The voice was faint,
barely perceptable. Laura jumped up from the bloody floor and sprang up the stairs into the cockpit.

“William, are you okay?”

Another weak voice repeated, “Laura . . .”

Rushing to his side
, she rolled him on his back and looked into his eyes. He looked at her with the faintest of smiles.

She could barely hear the next words, “Will you marry me?”

“Where’s the first-aid kit?” Laura almost screamed.

“Will you marry me?” William
’s voice was still a whisper, at best.

“Of
course I will! Now where is the first-aid kit?” Laura’s voice was laced with panic.

“Kitchen.”
William’s eyes drooped as he fell into unconsciousness.

Laura rushed down the stairs and
opened every cupboard in the kitchen. Over the sink she found a large box with a red cross on it. She grabbed it and rushed up the stairs two at a time.  William’s eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow. Opening the first-aid kit, she searched through the bandages. In the bottom she found several bandages labeled QuikClot
®
. Grabbing two she opened one and ripped open William’s shirt. She stuffed the bandage into the hole in his chest, then rolled him on his side and did the same for the exit wound. Applying pressure with her hands on both bandages, she waited.

Time passed
so slowly. In about two minutes, which seemed like two hours, the bleeding slowed, and finally stopped. Laura was relieved; hopefully she could get him ashore now and to a hospital. She couldn’t find her cell phone, so she pulled William’s out of his pocket; it was broken in two.

Okay, she couldn’t call for help, but she could at least get William to the dock and then find help. She
reached down and turned the key, the motor cranked and caught. Phew, she had remembered correctly. She was glad she had been watching when William started the engine, although she had tried not to act too interested; she actually wanted to learn as much as she could about sailing. She pushed the large lever forward, then pushed the small lever forward, and the sailboat began moving forward. Yes! She was going to get William to safety. She turned the boat with the wheel and headed towards the marina. The boat slowed, stopped, and began moving in reverse. Oh no! What was wrong?

She scanned
the sailboat and noticed that the sail was being pushed towards the back of the boat because they were headed into the wind. She had to lower the sail to stop the backwards motion.
What did William do to raise the sail? Think, Laura, think!

She reached down and pulled a rope upwards away from a clamp that
appeared to be restraining it, and it yanked out of her hand as the sail fell on the deck with a loud swooshing sound.

The sail
boat began moving forward as Laura steered it toward the dock. She wished she could get out and push the sailboat faster, but she knew that the throttle was at full speed, so she tried to be patient. She kept glancing down at William. As the dock neared, she wondered how she would get the big sailboat into a space that seemed so small. Then how would she tie up the boat? She would have to do that before she got William off the boat. Then how would she get help? Maybe she should run down the long dock to the office, where ever it was. Maybe she should look for another boater and ask to use his phone to call 911. Maybe she would just scream for help.

The dock was now quickly approaching. Time was running out.
She tried to tune out everything because she had to concentrate on docking the boat. The woop—woop—woop of a helicopter was distracting her as it passed overhead. She focused on the pilings of William’s dock and aimed the sailboat between them. Seeing the dock approaching at a rapid speed, she panicked and put the engine in reverse, the engine groaned at the sudden change, and the water churned as foam formed in the turbulent water behind the sailboat. The sailboat slowed, and slowed. It stopped just inches short of the dock and she stopped the engine. Perfect. Now how would she get help, and get William to a hospital?

“Ms. Richardson, throw me a line, and we
’ll get William loaded into the helicopter.” A man in a black suit with aviator sunglasses was standing at the dock. Who is he, and how does he know William is hurt?

“Huh? Who are you
? What do you want?” Laura’s voice was punctuated with fear and distrust.

“
I’m Special Agent Harrison, and I’m with the extraction team that General Thompson sent. The paramedics are coming down the dock as we speak.”

Laura looked down the long dock and could
see two paramedics running down the dock, pushing a gurney. Behind them were six soldiers jogging in full battle gear, carrying M-16s. She grabbed two dock lines and threw them to Agent Harrison, and he tied them off. He jumped on board and knelt next to William, immediately checking his pulse and looking at his eyes. Then the paramedics jumped aboard and did the same. The soldiers carried a stretcher aboard and steadied it while the paramedics lifted William. After strapping him in, the soldiers lifted the stretcher and moved it gently to the dock. A minute later, William was whisked away by helicopter.

Laura was left standing next to Agent Harrison. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

“No problem, ma’am. I can take you to the hospital in his truck. I assume you want to visit with him?”

“Of course.
Do you think William will be okay?”

“If those paramedics and the doctors at Bethesda have any say in the matter, he
’ll be fine. General Thompson made sure that everyone knew the importance of this extraction. You both are getting the VIP treatment.”

Everything happened so quickly, and now she had noth
ing to do, except go to the hospital and wait. The previous two days seemed so surreal. Did it really happen, or had this all been a bad dream?

“I don’t need a wheel chair. I can walk just fine.” William’s voice was a bit shaky, but getting stronger.

“Look, if you don’t use this wheel chair like t
he doctor ordered, I’m going to—”

“U
se some of your judo or karate on me? Laura, you can say what you want, but I’m walking out of this hospital!”

Laura walked over to William, standing face to
face; she lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “So, this is how it’s going to be. You set the rules, and I obey them. Maybe I won’t marry you after all.” Laura crossed her arms and pouted.

“
Hmm. So it wasn’t a dream, about asking you—”