“Steady....steady....okay, now!”
Kevin took a deep breath to quell the nervous energy flowing through him, causing his hands to shake. Closing his eyes briefly, he summoned the courage required for his role in this scheme. Beside him, Miranda sat in the passenger seat of the 4-Runner, foot tapping with an internal rhythm as her teeth ground in anxiety. She extended her hand, lying her palm across his knuckles in what was intended to be a comforting gesture. He smiled tensely in reply, shifting the car into gear.
“Here goes nothing,” he muttered and pulled out onto the street as Harris’ voice continued to pour over the radio.
“All right kids, this is it. We’re tracking them right now several blocks east. They should arrive just in time to see you pull into the driveway. Remember, all you have to do is act normal. You’re on vacation.”
“Some vacation...” Miranda groaned, “Are you certain they won’t shoot us on sight?”
Harris paused a moment before answering with as much conviction as he could muster, “Listen, this guy is a habitual creature. We all ready know he’s coming for you himself -his pride won’t allow it to be otherwise.”
“So you’re saying he’ll want to kill me himself.”
“Let’s just say he’s more than a little determined to leave his signature.”
Kevin persisted in maneuvering the vehicle down the suburban streets as he prayed for a little courage and a lot of protection.
*@*
Inside the white, all American house, Harris sat steeped in the tension typical of a covert operation. The truth was, they were playing entirely on instinct and suppositions. While he would never have admitted it, Harris was keeping his fingers crossed like everyone else. For now, he was left to wait, hidden from view just inside the front door away from any windows. A quick glance to his left confirmed that Amy was ready for action, temporarily sequestered at the head of the hallway which ran the length of the residence.
With a sigh, Harris returned his gaze to the panel of solid oak that would stand between a handful of FBI agents, one crime witness, her lover, and the perilous fate which awaited them.
*@*
His hands were slick with anticipation, though his grip on the handgun never wavered. He could taste the kill all ready, the familiar acidic tang which was sure to fill his mouth as he pulled the trigger. It always happened that way. Tony Guerelli had the unfortunate habit of biting his tongue as he aimed the barrel at a warm body, shooting the life from their beating heart. The reaction was something he had never been able to shake, no matter how hard he tried, and probably ever would. Truthfully, he welcomed the iron flavor of his own blood, savoring it’s spice as he savored the death cries of his victims.
*@*
The hunter green 4-Runner slid into the driveway as though it had been made to do park there. The house, a sanctuary, loomed before it’s passengers in a most inviting way. Kevin felt his heart speed up, thrumming against his ribcage as though it might beat through his very skin if it’s pace increased. A swift glance at Miranda revealed that she was experiencing the same emotion as he. Something akin to pain clutched at their throats, nearly cutting off the air supple vital to their lives. With a start, Kevin realized that it was terror -in it’s purest and most unadulterated form. Miranda’s hand had not uncovered his, prompting him to offer her fingers a gentle squeeze before reaching for his door handle.
As they stepped from the car, neither could help but let their gazes dart about, wondering if their would be killers were present, and if so, where they had chosen to hide until the moment was ripe. Miranda did not see a thing out of place which only worried her more, if that was even possible. Kevin came around the front of the vehicle, extending a palm for her to take. As soon as she felt the warm contact of their skin, she relaxed slightly, seeing the front door mere yards away; destination oasis.
“Happy....” Kevin murmured in her ear as he drew Miranda closely to his side, “We’re just two happy people coming home from an excursion.”
Not trusting her voice, Miranda could only nod in response while pasting a semblance of a smile on her face. The door was only a few yards away now. They were almost home free.
*@*
“I’m sure they were seen by the vultures. Our gems are almost to the rendezvous point......eight feet......five feet.....three feet.....” a commanding voice came across the ear piece Harris wore, it’s tone garnished with static. The portal in front of him swung open easily and Harris kept his gun trained on whatever figure was going to walk through the door, just in case. Breathing a sigh of relief, he thought he had never been happier to see Miranda and Kevin walk into a room.
His relief did not last long, however, for as soon as their bodies cleared the frame and they had shut the panel behind themselves, Harris was hustling them through the foyer, and to the juncture of the hallway were Amy and two other agents lay in wait. This was where the exchange would take place. Miranda and Kevin had been placed in enough danger as it was; he was not about to let their lives be subject to expiration yet again.
The three fairly raced to the crossroads of the floor plan of the house, where Amy met them, wearing a cropped black wig, her outfit identical to Miranda’s, two men at her side.
“This is Jake and Robert. They’ll take you to safety,” she informed the two objects of this insane quest. Without a word of further introduction, Jake grasped Miranda’s elbow with a firm, yet careful grip.
“This way. You and I are heading out the garage door connected to the house. From there, we can escape through an exterior side door.”
Miranda’s eyes shifted anxiously from Jake to Kevin to Amy and back again. “Wait! What about Kevin?” she asked, unable to keep the wild tone from encroaching upon her voice.
“He’s with me. We’re going out the rear kitchen exit. The four of us will rendezvous at the gazebo, and make our way to the yellow house across the street after that. Now, move! There’s no more time!”
Miranda and Kevin were pulled in opposite directions so quickly, there wasn’t even time to blink, let alone say goodbye. As their respective guards pulled them in their direction of escape, Amy looked at Harris who passed for a mirror image of Kevin as far as his clothes were concerned. Even his hair had been dyed a deep hue, though his facial features were less chiseled than Kevin’s.
The familiar voice of command echoed across their ear pieces in warning. This was it. The thugs were moving in and there was no turning back. Amy sent up a quick prayer to heaven that the other four had made it out all right.
Harris took firm hold of her arm, dragging her into the living room. As they settled on the couch in a hurry, he slid his gun beneath one of the throw pillows. Pulling Amy to sit nearly on his lap, he tugged her to him, her back resting against his chest. While most would argue that they should have been poised to shoot the intruders on sight, this case was slightly different. There wouldn’t be any killing of the mafia ruffians until everything was on down on tape. In essence, they needed proof. They needed evidence of the extent of this man’s involvement in the Orlando crime scene. This was the opportunity of a life time, and Harris and Amy had spent years training for this moment. A tape recording of the truth pouring from these fool’s lips would be just the thing necessary to bring the hooligans and a number of others to justice. The FBI needed people like Amy and Harris; people not afraid of dying, or at least willing to do so in the name of the law.
Now, they could only hold their breath and wait. There was little chance of being shot on sight. Amy’s deceptively simple, though strategic position along side Harris was no coincidence. With her pressed against his chest, the thugs could not kill him first to be done with it, because if they pulled the trigger, the bullet would have to pass through Amy to pierce any of his fatal regions. And that was something statistics proclaimed this particular mafia man would not do. He liked to chat up his witnesses first. He wanted answers before killing them. The more he became acquainted with a victim, the more pleasure he derived from their demise.
Footsteps, though muffled somewhat by the carpet, were not stealthy enough to escape the agents’ notice. Bracing himself, Harris attempted to look natural and completely unconcerned with the world around them as he nuzzled Amy’s neck with his face.
*@*
Guerelli could feel excitement welling within him at the sight of the two unsuspecting lovers at play on the sofa. The man’s fingers were entwined with the woman’s as he lavished kisses on the back of her head and the column of her neck.
“I sincerely hope we aren’t interrupting anything.” His voice was utterly cold, yet held a mocking quality to it that was capable of sending shivers down anyone’s spine. He watched in delight as the couple’s heads jerked up in surprise, fear painted across their features as clearly as their blood was going to show on this white carpet.
“Oh, no,” the woman whispered hoarsely. “No...”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Guerelli exclaimed, nearly clapping his hands in elation. He loved this business. “So, sorry to have disturbed your love fest, but I’m afraid this really isn’t paradise after all.”
The unmistakable noise of a gun being cocked resounded through the silence which had descended on the room. With a slight frown, Guerelli pivoted his head ever so minimally to his right. “Marcus, I thought I told you to behave yourself. Don’t get premature on me,” Turning his attention back to the frightened pair on the sofa in front of him, Tony Guerelli kept his gun trained on them as he began to explain ‘the rules’. “I feel it’s only fair to warn you that if either of you gets it up your ass to try to escape, it won’t be happening. You’ll fall dead to the floor sooner than you can wish you were elsewhere. Now, if you cooperate, I’ll give you a choice. I think I’m being more than fair.”
“What exactly would our choice be?” the woman couldn’t seem to help spitting out. Guerelli shook a finger at her with a chuckle.
“Feisty, aren’t you? Oh well, you had to be to have eluded Carl here. Your choice? To die with a minimal amount of pain,” he held one hand out from his side, palm up, as though imitating a set of scales, “Or with a lot more muss and fuss,” this was said with his other hand mimicking the first. “ You can ponder this decision while we talk.”
“Who are you?”
“See, now you’re jumping ahead of yourself. I’m the one who asks the questions around here. But just because you inquired so nicely, I’ll tell you.....Tony Guerelli,” he finished with a flourish, obviously prideful of his station, expecting them to know his name and quake in fear.
“Tony who? I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of you,” the woman returned. A deep scowl creased Guerelli’s forehead.
“I don’t believe you.” When the woman answered his challenge with silence, he was forced to take control of his anger and attempt to salvage the situation. He was used to seeing his victim’s eyes widen in terror, but at present, this was not happening.
*@*
Kevin winced as Robert’s fingers bit into the muscles in his arm. The agent had a firm unyielding hold on him, as though he were afraid Kevin might try to go to Miranda instead of cooperate.
“You can let up a little, I’m not going-” his statement was cut off as a man lunged into their path, seemingly emerging from the doorjamb of the back portal. Not emitting a sound, Kevin barely saw the man move. The next thing he knew, something warm and wet coated his cheek, more specifically, one side of his body. Passing a hand across his skin, Kevin pulled his palm away to find his fingers slick with crimson. The bile rose in the back of his throat as he looked quickly from his hand to the place beside him where the agent had been. Robert lay crumpled on the floor, a bullet having coursed through his head at point blank range. Blood and gore seemed to fill Kevin’s vision and he felt himself ready to become sick.
“Keep your mouth shut or it’s you next,” the man warned in a low, menacing voice. Kevin could only nod, keeping his eyes fixed on the gun in the man’s hand equipped with a silencer.
*@*
He halted suddenly, jerking Miranda to a stop beside him.
“Jake?” she asked softly. He leapt to cover her mouth, holding her tightly against him in what could only be called fear. Miranda knew better than to struggle, though she could feel her legs beginning to turn weak as her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Jake pressed a hand against his ear, frowning as he attempted to force the ear piece to cooperate.
“Shit...” he mumbled. “Miranda, I need your cooperation. I need to you get into the garage and hide behind the pile of boxes within. I’ll be back for you as soon as I can, but I think something’s wrong. If you hear anything threatening or if you feel it’s detrimental to your safety to get out, then do it. You know the rendezvous point. Circle around the back of the next door neighbors, then jet across the street. But remember, only if it’s completely necessary. The last thing we need is for you to be running around in plain sight.” Miranda listened to Jake’s instructions intently, nodding to show him she understood as she did not trust her own vocal cords. He gave her a quick shove toward the interior door leading to the garage while he crept back along the hallway in stealth.
*@*
“I’ll tell you who I am. I’m-” his sentence was interrupted as a large man appeared in the archway of the living room. He was pushing something -or someone- in front of him, harshly while brandishing a revolver in his other hand.
“Look what I found, boss,” the stocky man sneered, shoving the figure to his knees in front of Guerelli.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” the headman’s eyes twinkled with sadistic humor. Amy very nearly leapt from her position on the couch, but managed to restrain herself when Harris’ grip tightened on her waist in warning. Guerelli hadn’t missed the tightening of her jaw muscles nor the deathly cold look she continued to cast upon him.
Glancing from the pair on the sofa to the man at his feet, an entirely different light was shed on the situation. Eyes narrowing to gleaming slits of evil, Guerelli hauled the dark man before him to a standing position, pulling him back against his own chest while jabbing the barrel of the gun into his jugular. Kevin shuddered at Guerelli’s hot breath on his cheek, his arm like a vise firmly restraining and limiting movement.
“I’m beginning to think something’s rotten in the state of Denmark,” Kevin’s captor growled, his voice so threatening a fear induced shiver ran through Kevin’s body. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say we were dealing with a set of clones,” the accusation left Guerelli’s lips in a hiss as his gaze traversed from Kevin to Harris and back again.
The thug who had accompanied Guerelli moved toward the sofa, yanking Amy to her feet. “I don’t know nothing ‘bout Denmark, but I don’t think this pretty lady is takin’ too well to this situation,” he extracted a knife from his belt and carefully ran the sharp blade down the length of her neck, jabbing the tip into the soft skin beneath Amy’s ear, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from her. He chuckled, loving the light of fear and the fire of rage which sparkled in her eyes.
“Yes,” Guerelli’s focus rested on the raven haired woman in Carl’s grasp. “I must say I agree with you. I’m rather inclined to think that since there are two dark haired men of very similar exterior, there may very well be a second ebony bitch hiding somewhere near by. What say you, boys?”
*@*
Miranda heard more than felt her rapid heartbeat as it echoed relentlessly in her ears. Swallowing with more than a little difficulty, she edged along the length of hall, following in Jake’s tracks. Something wasn’t right; uneasiness settled in the pit of her stomach, like a heavy weight. Filled with the dread of impending doom, Miranda was just about to inch forward again when movement caught her eye. Breathing a sigh of relief, she spotted Jake half hidden in the front entry way.
The connecting course of the floor plan of this house provided three different entrances to the focal point of the architect’s blueprint: the living room. This fact had not escaped Jake’s notice as he attempted to gain the upper hand, surprise his most valuable ally. Having crept to the foyer, he crouched in wait, searching for the perfect opportunity to take the three intruders by stealthy attack.
Miranda moved as silently as possible, intending to join Jake in his position. She kept low to the ground, making very little noise -until one of her tennis shoes squeaked ever so slightly against the tiled entry hall. Jake whipped around faster than she thought humanly possible, and suddenly, Miranda was starring down the barrel of the gun, Jake’s finger all ready pressing lightly on the trigger.
“Shit!” He halted the firing pressure of his hand immediately, his eyes narrowing in anger while curses of relief continued to fall from his whispering lips. “Damn you! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The question fell into the abyss of silence between them as Miranda looked past Jake and saw Kevin pushed to his knees in front of a well built man clad in a pinstripe suit, a sinister leer across his features. Amy and Harris were visible as well and it appeared as though everything had quickly fallen to pieces around them.
“Oh my God.....” Miranda hissed between clenched teeth, her eyes growing wide as she watched the man in the pinstripe suit wrap his arm around Kevin’s neck in restraint. “Jake.....What are we going to do?”
“I’m thinking, I’m thinking.....shit! It wasn’t supposed to go down like this.”
“What about plan ‘b’?”
“There isn’t one.”
“What the hell? I thought there was always a plan ‘b’!”
“I’m sure you’re right. Now, we’ve just gotta think of one.”
Jake’s gaze continued to move over all aspects of the situation in front of them. “If we could just get that head man to move a bit, I’d have a clear shot at one of his bad boys. With one out of the equation, Harris should be swift enough to take down the other one. That would leave Guerelli to deal with and the scales tipped in our favor, that should be a piece of cake.”
“But I thought you wanted the goods on him. You can’t just kill him, Jake.”
“Good point. Maybe he’ll make a deal. In any event, at least Kevin, Amy, and Harris would get out of this alive.”
“Use me,” Miranda said quietly.
*@*
“.....What say you, boys?” Guerelli’s challenge rang through the still atmosphere. Carl and the other thug gave toothy grins in reply, each dripping with a nearly tangible venom. Guerelli prodded Kevin’s neck with the gun with increasing force, eliciting a soft yelp of surprise. All ready facing the main entrance to the living room,
“Where are you bitch?! You may as well just show yourself,” Guerelli called mockingly. His demand was met with nothing but silence, infuriating him to no end. With a fierce growl, Guerelli shoved Kevin away from him, pushing him into his colleague’s hold. Unexpectedly, and with lightning speed, Guerelli pivoted sharply, and issued a biting blow to the side of Harris’ head with the butt of his revolver. Several additional cuffs of the solid metal rendered the agent unconscious before he could even think to react. Blood slowly trickled down his temple, pooling in the hollow of his throat.
As if this was standard procedure, Guerelli turned to face the rest of the house, his voice echoing off the walls.
“You get that? Save your friends a world of hurt, bitch. Show yourself.”
Suddenly, a raven capped head surfaced on the other side of the median counter separating the dining room from the living room.
“You rang?” the woman taunted. Guerelli could do nothing but stare for several seconds, his eyes relishing in the sight of his long elusive prey of two and a half years. This was the female he had come in search of. This was the one he sought. When compared to the other midnight haired woman in his associate’s grasp, the renegade witness was indeed the real McCoy. It was obvious in her sight stature, her fine features, and most importantly, her blue gray eyes. He could see and feel the angry glint in her orbs even from this distance. Though it seemed like several minutes, in reality, her appearance was swift, lasting mere seconds. She disappeared as quickly as she had come, darting out of sight.
Guerelli growled deep within his throat, motioning in the direction of the dining room with a sharp order, “Get her.” Carl threw Amy against the wall like so much excess baggage, rushing in Miranda’s wake. The other thug was a bit more careful, binding Kevin’s hands behind him with lightning speed, then shoving a handkerchief in his mouth before pushing him to the floor behind the sofa. Guerelli was just about to follow his two men when he turned at the door to the dining room, his gaze falling upon Amy, where she sat slumped against the hard sheet rock of the wall, one hand to her head. “So sorry, agent. Your game is over, and your time is up.”
Amy had just enough time to glance up, meeting Guerelli’s stare as he pulled the trigger.
*@*
Miranda’s breath came into her lungs shallowly, though her nervousness had long since ebbed away. Adrenaline flowed through her veins, rushing in her ears as she rushed down the hall. She could feel more than hear the first of the men following her trail. His footsteps fell softly on the carpet, though he may as well have been walking on her skin. Every nerve ending felt alive and aware as Miranda waited patiently for the man to catch up a bit.
*@*
Carl kept his arm extended, finger curled around the trigger, ready to fire at any moment. Cringing inwardly, he mentally chastised himself for his stupidity. He should have recognized that the agent he’d tossed aside in the living room was not the woman they sought. But no matter; she was close at hand and within minutes she would be his, or rather, Guerelli’s with Carl playing the part of the trusty retrieval dog on an unorthodox hunting trip.
A flash of movement and a flicker of ebony at the end of the hall caught his attention, his focus zeroing in on he doorway she had disappeared through. A smug grin eased across his mouth, illuminating his features in an evil light. Swiftly and without making a sound, Carl pursued. He reached the door in seconds, adjusting his grip on the gun while simultaneously pushing the solid panel ajar with his finger tips. Peeking around the frame, arm extended, he expected to be greeted with the welcome sight of their prey cowering fearfully in the corner. Instead, Carl was met with a room devoid of any other person. Brow furrowing in agitation and more than a little anger, he pushed the door open entirely, striding into the room as his eyes sought out every crevice of the space. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. How could she have- The floor boards creaked unexpectedly, setting Carl’s senses on alert which sent him pivoting, rapidly whipping about face to tackle whomever had prompted the floor’s protest. Carl had time only to meet the gaze of the wiry man behind him before a sharp pain ricocheted through his skull as a hard right cross was delivered to his jaw.
Miranda watched without emotion as Jake issued calculated blows to the first man to follow her. She realized suddenly, that he was vaguely familiar, as if she had seen him before but could not quite place his presence. Not uttering a word, Miranda watched as Jake speedily rendered the man unconscious before cuffing his wrists behind his back. Some primal instinct deep within her wanted to snatch the gun from the Jake’s waist and proceed to exterminate the thug lying vulnerably on the floor. She wanted him dead as he had wanted her.
As Jake pivoted to face Miranda intending to give her silent instruction on their next tactical move, his eyes widened in surprise, urging her to turn ninety degrees only to be met with the snarling countenance of the second ruffian poised in the doorway. Jake’s astonishment was well grounded as the events which followed played out in slow motion.
Giving a shocked outcry, Jake pulled his revolver free from his belt even as he leapt to knock Miranda to the ground. The two fell, a bundle of arms and legs, as raucous gunfire filled the premises. Her bones hit the surface without mercy, the feel of Jake’s muscular flesh colliding with hers jarred her to the very core. Miranda’s body started involuntarily with each shot that sounded, shattering the air.
Though it seemed like an eternity, only moments after she had made contact with the plush carpet of the floor, all was once again quiet. Opening her eyes slightly, afraid that the ambush may not yet be done, she let her gaze dart toward the place the man had stood. Relief flooded through her veins when she took in the sight of him laying still, chest no longer inflating with breath.
“Jake?” she whispered. “He’s dead. You killed him, Jake.” Miranda pushed against the warm weight at her back. “Jake, you killed him. You can let me up now. Jake....” craning her neck at a nearly impossible angle, Miranda struggled to see the agent beside her. With a frown, she wriggled from beneath his torso, coming to her knees. It was then that she noticed the way her shirt clung to the soft skin of her shoulder blades and upper back. Tugging on her shirt, Miranda pulled at a portion of the fabric. When she drew her hands away, they were bathed in crimson, sticky and warm to the touch. “Oh...oh...oh God,” she murmured, and suddenly, she knew. “Jake? Jake.....” The federal agent lay dead, life force siphoned from his body via the bullet which punctured his heart. Blood was beginning to pool under his frozen figure, mingling with the plasma of the thug which was creeping a river across the floor. A horrendous shudder wracked her body as she became aware that she was the only one left alive in the house with a man who sought to see her dead.
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