A Touch of Malice (30 page)

Footsteps were now trampling down the hallway toward the rectory.

The door opened.

A Cameno soldier rushed in, his assault rifle already out ahead of him. He saw the two agents on the floor and immediately swung his weapon at them. Nick squeezed his eyes shut as bullets began firing.

A couple of seconds later the firing came to a stop.

Nick opened his eyes.

The soldier’s head was many shades of red and missing some parts. He collapsed to the floor. A moment later Lieutenant Bret Olson strolled into the room with his rifle across his chest. He looked at Nick.

“You guys okay?”

Nick and Matt looked at each other with big unashamed smiles across their faces. Nick rested his head against the floor and finally stopped the fight to free his hands. The Delta Force helicopter could be heard hovering outside. He knew right then, lying in the hideout of Colombia’s most dangerous cartel, they were in the safest place in the whole wide world. He took a large lungful of air and let out the breath.

“Took you long enough,” Matt said, half sarcastically.

Olson stepped over to Matt and cut his hands and legs free. “You weren’t answering your cells. All we really needed to do was follow the path of dead bodies you left behind.”

As Olson stepped over to Nick, he observed Cesar’s corpse and the green stick protruding from his neck. Olson looked quizzical.

“The president?” Nick asked.

Olson knelt down behind Nick and began cutting him free as well. “He’s fine.”

“Fine?” Matt said. “How? Where’d you find him?”

“We didn’t,” Olson said, cutting through Nick’s tape. “His cousin took care of that for us.”

Nick grinned.

Olson peeked over Nick’s shoulder to spy his expression. “You knew, huh?”

“I had an idea,” Nick said. “Where’s Tommy now?”

“Flying home on Air Force One with the president.”

Nick couldn’t remove the smile from his face, imagining the conversation between Tommy and President Merrick. “Where else would he be?”

Chapter 37

President Santoro spent the afternoon being interrogated by the American government. These were men and women who didn’t identify themselves as to which department they worked for, even after he repeatedly requested their credentials. Secretary of State Sam Fisk was there to supervise every interview, glowering over each shrug and non-answer as if it were a personal insult to his intelligence.

Santoro insisted the interrogations took place in his personal library so he wouldn’t be seen by the media as some target of investigation. Miraculously, the President of the United States had been rescued and calls to Pablo Moreno were going unanswered. Santoro could only assume something had gone terribly wrong with Moreno’s plan to assassinate President Merrick. He thought about the millions we wouldn’t be receiving if Moreno had actually been eliminated.

Once the entourage of government officials had filtered out of his library, Santoro was forced to endure a long spiteful glare from Fisk before the secretary of state finally left the room. Santoro knew he was safe from incrimination because Moreno was the one who orchestrated the kidnapping. Santoro was simply a bystander in the process.

He sat in his chair with his legs crossed and motioned for Vice President Roberto Sanchez to come over.

“I saw you speaking with Fisk before he left,” Santoro said. “What were you two talking about?”

“He asked me how much I knew about the president’s disappearance.” Sanchez shrugged. “I told him I knew as much as he did.”

Santoro nodded. “Good. They are all gone now?”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Sanchez said, showing even more respect than he did prior to the event.

“Thank you, Roberto,” Santoro said, leaning his head back. “It is good to have you there for me.”

“Mr. President, you look exhausted.” Sanchez looked over his shoulder to assure him of their privacy. “Maybe you should go to your office and spend some quality time with the girls.”

Santoro saw a gleam in the vice president’s eyes as he said the word “girls,” and understood the reference to his dolls which were waiting for him in his desk.

“Yes,” Santoro perked up. He felt a new sense of relief. The girls would be there for him to calm him down and give him the comfort he desired. “I will do that.”

He rose from his chair and left the library with two of his bodyguards following him down the long hallway to his office. He was so familiar with their presence he rarely noticed them, but this time he turned to be sure they were there. Something about the events that afternoon had set him on edge and he’d sensed a different atmosphere as he approached the waiting area outside his office. His secretary wasn’t behind her desk.

The room was empty.

Roberto Sanchez came in behind him and smiled. “I had the staff take off for a while to give you some quiet time.” Sanchez glanced at his wristwatch. “You have ninety minutes to relax, then we have a dinner meeting with the new Minister of Defense. He is looking for instructions on how to deal with these foreign intrusions. I told him you would be prepared to lay out a plan to utilize our military as exclusive security control for any visiting dignitaries. I believe this would have solved many of our communication problems during today’s events.”

Sanchez gestured to the door to Santoro’s private office. “I will be right here waiting for you.”

Santoro smiled. He went over and placed a hand on Sanchez’s shoulder. “Tonight I would like us to have dinner together. We should discuss our agreements with the Camenos. I need to know who is in control now that Moreno seems to be missing.”

Sanchez nodded. “I have already placed a call to my contact over there. We will need to create a new relationship. I will know that answer by the end of today.”

Santoro squeezed Sanchez’s shoulder, then opened the door to his office and went inside. The door immediately closed behind him and he heard the click of the door locking. It was a lock that did not exist.

There were chunks of plastic and streams of fiber scattered across the floor of his office. His breath jumped out of him as he zoned in on a piece of the debris. No, he thought. He bent down to pick up the hunk of plastic and pulled up on the hairs attached to the piece. As he turned the lump in his trembling fingers, an eyeball stared back at him.

Santoro could feel his knees buckle. He collapsed to the floor to gather the pieces of his doll and desperately tried to put them together into something that resembled one of his special ladies.

Lost in his grief was the realization that he wasn’t alone. Standing over him was a large man with thick arms and a hefty knife which gleamed under the overhead fluorescent lights. The man twirled the knife with such dexterity it was apparent he’d been the one who had cut up his favorite doll into small unrecognizable pieces.

“I have been waiting for you, Mr. President,” the man said in a thick Russian accent.

Chapter 38

President Merrick entered the Georgetown University Hospital through the cafeteria entrance. He and his entourage of Secret Service agents, wife Ann and daughter Emily took the service stairs to the third floor where they were met by another team of agents who were already in place to secure the corridor leading to his brother’s private room.

Merrick was carrying a book he’d bought for Trent when they entered the room and found Jaqui Merrick sitting in a chair beside her husband with a brilliant smile painted on her face. Trent was sitting upright in his bed, his legs stretched out under the covers. Merrick stared at the left leg in particular.

“It’s still there,” Trent said. “They say I’m getting to keep it as a parting gift.”

Merrick shook his head. “Remarkable.”

Emily ran over to her uncle and gave him a big hug while Ann bent down and touched Jaqui’s growing stomach.

“You look beautiful,” Ann said.

Jaqui tried to stand up to greet her, but Ann gently placed her hand on Jaqui’s shoulder. “You stay right where you are, Mom.”

Merrick grabbed Trent’s hand and squeezed. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” Trent looked up at his brother with gratitude in his eyes. “John, I really want to thank—”

Merrick put a finger to his lips, then glanced down at Emily who was told a completely different reason for his injuries.

“Thank you for coming by,” Trent finished.

“No problem, buddy,” Merrick said.

Trent pointed to the book in Merrick’s hand. “What are you reading?”

Merrick looked at the book. “Oh, this? I got this for you.” Merrick held up the cover for everyone in the room to see.

Endangered Species of North America.

There were a few chuckles.

Emily said, “What’s so funny?”

Merrick looked down at his daughter. “Daddy wants your uncle Trent to do movies in our own country where he can be closer to home.”

Emily looked over at her uncle. “Are you, Uncle Trent?”

Trent grinned. “Maybe.”

“The Spotted Turtle could really use your help,” Merrick added, handing the book to his brother.

Trent glanced at Emily, then quickly up at Merrick. “How are my friends doing down in the rainforest?”

“They’re being protected,” Merrick said. “We’ve secured a seven-hundred-acre perimeter around their homeland. They’ll be able to live out their lives without intrusions.”

Trent smiled, then reached out for his brother’s hand again and squeezed. “Thanks.”

Merrick nodded. “Oh, I have a friend I’d like you to meet.” Merrick called out into the hallway. “Rudy.”

A tall, nimble man with chocolate skin and an easy smile came into the hospital room and stood with his hands behind his back.

“Everyone, this is Rudy Griffin,” Merrick said, placing an arm around the man. “He is a very nice gentleman who will be keeping an eye on Trent and Jaqui for a while. Rudy loves to travel and has a genuine concern for the environment.”

Trent frowned. “John . . .”

Merrick raised his eyebrows, then stared at Jaqui who was beaming.

Trent picked up the hint. He was going to be assigned his own Secret Service agent or live with an unhappy wife for the rest of his life. He looked over at Rudy and with a tone of resignation in his voice, he said, “Nice to meet you.”

Epilogue

By the time Nick and Matt pulled up Nick’s driveway, it had been two days since the story of the president’s missing three hours in Bogota had been spread all over the news. There had been mythical narratives about an American citizen vacationing in the area spotting the president being kidnapped and stepping in to save him. The saga of Trent Merrick’s rescue had reached epic proportions and CNN was interviewing anyone who’d ever met the president’s brother, including his third grade teacher who claimed Trent was a brilliant storyteller at a very early age.

Nick’s home was just north of the Tonto National Forest in Payson, Arizona, a rustic mountain community where the lots were all covered by tall pine trees. Even at noon, however, the sun had found a way to penetrate the tree line and reminded Nick just how powerful the rainforest really was.

Matt pulled the SUV up the semicircle gravel driveway until he reached the front door. He shoved the gear into park and half-turned toward his partner.

“You going to be okay?” Matt asked.

Nick knew that was code for, “Should I come in with you and smooth things over with the wife?”

“I’m fine,” Nick said, staring at the front door. “She’ll know just by looking at my face how much action I’ve seen.”

Matt pointed to Nick’s head. “Your eye is doing that fluttering thing again. Is that because of the meds?”

“Yeah,” Nick lied. “It should go away pretty quick now that I’m home.”

They sat in silence while Nick gathered his thoughts. His partner allowed him the time to do just that. Nick thought about what was waiting for him once he went through that doorway and considered Matt going back to an empty home.

“Oh,” Nick said, as if he’d forgotten something, “Julie asked if you would come to dinner tonight.”

“Really?”

“You’re surprised? She loves you.”

“Yeah,” Matt said, looking out the front window into the distance. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Sure. What time?”

“Six. She’s making that tortellini spinach dish you like so much.”

Matt’s face brightened. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely,” Nick said, already planning a trip to the grocery store to pick up some tortellini.

“I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

“Pinot Noir?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll bring a couple of bottles just in case.”

Nick grabbed his duffle bag from the backseat. “Make it three.” He got out, then gave his partner a fist bump through the open window before watching him chew up gravel on his way down the driveway and back out onto the asphalt.

When Nick opened the front door, Julie greeted him with a huge smile. She ran over and hugged him harder than he’d ever been squeezed by a non-fugitive before. She whispered, “He’s taking a nap in the downstairs bedroom.”

Nick maneuvered his duffle bag to the floor while trying to maintain the integrity of their embrace.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

“You have no idea.”

Nick kissed her forehead and pulled back. “I have something I need to talk with you about.”

Julie’s eyes popped open. “What?”

“Well, it seems I need to come clean about a fear that I’ve been hoarding inside for a while.”

Julie cocked her head. “What’s going on? You want to talk about your feelings with me?”

“Sort of.”

Julie put her hands on her hips and gave her husband a wry smirk. “Okay, first tell me who told you that you need to do this.”

“A very smart Native Indian chief.”

Now Julie seemed intrigued. “Go ahead.”

“He says I’m keeping my greatest fear pent up inside and it’s making me sick.”

“You had a therapy session with a Native Indian?”

“Actually, he just looked at my tongue.”

Julie nodded, but she acted like she was waiting for the punch line.

“Well, okay,” Nick said, suddenly finding the words difficult to put together. His eye began to twitch and it prompted him to speak. “I’ve been afraid you’re going to leave me.”