Black Smoke (33 page)

Walt monitored the conversation as he watched for the agent that stabbed Kong. He could see him slinking through the trees toward the road. Walt maneuvered so he could intercept him, then crouched and waited. When the man stepped in front of him, Walt placed his pistol in the middle of his forehead.

“Give me one good reason not to scatter your brains all over the ground.” Walt’s voice was calm, cool and deadly.

The agent froze, his eyes wide, his skin pale. The bleeding from his lip had begun to slow, but now oozed faster because his heart was racing. “What do you want?” he asked. “Just tell me what you want.”

“You called your team?”

“Yeah, yeah I called them.” Blood dripped from his ragged lip.

“Good, then we’ll wait for them. When they get here, you’ll tell them you stabbed a man from the elite forces and tortured one of the government’s top rescue agents, who happens to be my niece.” Walt would see to it that this man paid for what he did to Sam and Kong.

“Elite forces? Rescue agent? Holy shit!” The agent’s face paled more. “I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know,” he stammered.

“Take me to where you’re meeting your team,” Walt ordered.

As the two men walked, Walt holding his gun to the man’s head, he spoke into his radio.

“Ricochet, I’ve got the mole. Keep your eyes on the team and let me know what’s happening.”

“Roger that,” Ricochet responded. “Talk to me Boomer. What’s happening?”

Boomer found Sam leaning into the basement window. “Come on Sam, we have to get out of here,” he said wrapping his arm around her stomach and dragging her toward the trees.

“Mark’s in there. Someone’s coming. We can’t leave him there,” she pleaded as she let Boomer drag her off. Once they were tucked in the safety of the trees, Boomer looked at her. His stomach clenched, then rolled at the sight of her face. Her eyes were completely swollen shut, her nose was huge and her lips looked like they had been injected with too much collagen. Her wrists were still bound by the shackles and her leg was enormous.

“Please Boomer, get him out.” Tears slipped from the slits in her eyes and rolled down her puffy cheeks.

* * * * *

Inside the house, Rayburn had made his way to the bottom door of the basement. He threw the door open and looked around. The cot was empty, the boarded up window was now open and the room was quiet. As he limped toward the window Kong reached out and pulled at his gimpy ankle. The man didn’t have time to scream. His body hit the dirt floor with a loud thud.

Outside, Walt was waiting for the government agents to arrive. His hostage reached inside his pants and pulled his phone from his pocket. He had rigged the house with explosives that very morning. A backup plan in case the terrorists barricaded themselves inside the house. All he had to do was dial the correct number into the phone and boom, most of his problems would be over.

Walt watched the man’s face intently, never noticing the man’s hands moving. He was listening to his radio, catching bits and pieces of the banter that was going on between Ricochet and Boomer. From what he could pick up, Boomer had Sam away from the house and had then returned for Kong. Ricochet was leaving his tree and making his way to them. By the time Walt noticed the phone in the man’s hand, it was too late.

Kong reached over with weak hands and wrapped them around the man’s throat. He cursed at not having enough strength to hold him properly. “Going somewhere?” he gasped.

Rayburn clawed at the hands around his neck. “I’ll kill you,” he growled.

“Too late. I’m already dead.”

“Like hell you are,” came that familiar deep, slow voice. Boomer dropped down inside the dark room and kicked Rayburn in the head. His flailing feet and clawing hands stopped moving.

“Let’s get you outta here.”

Kong wasn’t as big as Boomer, but he was a dead weight, making it hard to move him. “Come on buddy, you have to help me here.” When he felt Kong try and pull himself up, he lifted with his legs and heaved him to the window. Grunts came from Boomer as he shoved and heaved his friend through the open window.

Without warning, the weight was lifted from him. Ricochet had arrived in time to grab Kong by the shoulders and pull him the rest of the way out. When he was out and on the ground, Ricochet reached in and pulled Boomer through.

Each grabbing an arm, they began to drag Kong away from the house. All hell broke lose as they took their third step. The explosion shook the ground, the force threw them toward the treeline and debris rain down on them like confetti. Fire licked at the trees and singed everything within its reach.

Boomer raised his head and looked behind him. There was nothing but flaming timbers and intense heat. No one inside would have survived. Then it hit him. They had weapons stored inside the house. Bombs, ammunition. It wouldn’t take long for the heat to affect them. Ricochet lay on the ground, knocked unconscious from the force of the explosion.

Boomer scrambled to his feet and dragged Kong to where he left Sam. “Sam, stay here with Lowe. I have to get Ricochet. Keep your head down low. Those bombs inside the house are going to blow any minute.”

Sam couldn’t see Kong, but she could feel him lying next to her. “Go Boomer. Bring Ricochet back,” she shouted over the roar of the fire.

When he was gone, she reached out and felt Kong’s face. It was cold and wet. She placed a finger under his nose and felt the faint breeze of his breath. Relief swept over her, he was still alive. “Mark, listen to me. You can’t die, stay with me.”

She jerked when she felt his hand lightly wrap around her wrist. “Sam, I…” His words were interrupted as two bright lights surrounded them. Kong struggled to sit up, but his weakened condition wouldn’t allow it. Sam could see the light as it seeped between her swollen eyes. To ensure a better view, she reached up with her free hand and pulled one eye open. The two watched as the light swirled around them then stopped and began to form.

Two figures emerged from the light. “Mom, Dad?” Sam gasped.

Before them stood her parents, smiling and holding hands.
It’s over honey,
her mother said.
You’ve ended the reign of a very brutal man. Both of you. It’s time for your happiness now.

Sam’s mouth went dry. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth when she opened it. “I don’t understand.”

The last eighteen years have been working up to this Sam
, her father said.
It was your path to find our killers. You’ve followed that path and now you’ve come to the end.

“What happens now?” Disbelief, confusion and loss mixed inside her chest as she spoke. Did they mean she was finished with her work? Or that it was time for her to leave this Earth? Had they come to take her with them?

Her mother felt her turmoil and smiled.
Anything you want to happen honey. You still have choices to make. What you do with the rest of your life is up to you.

Sam glanced down at Kong. His lips were white, his skin growing colder by the second. He was what she wanted, him, for the rest of her life. But his life was fading. Frantically she looked back to her mother and father.

Help is coming,
her father said.
We’re very proud of you Samantha. Your work has saved countless lives. We couldn’t be more proud of you.

We’ll always be with you Sam.
Her mother blew her a kiss then the two figures faded back into the brilliant white light. Warmth and love covered them as the light encompassed them before lifting up to the treetops.

“I like them,” Kong whispered. Unable to hold his leaden eyes open any longer, Kong allowed them to close and welcomed the darkness that engulfed him. The hand that was wrapped around Sam’s wrist slid to his chest.

Boomer helped a winded and injured Ricochet scramble into the trees just as another explosion ripped through the air.

Boomer held Sam down close to the ground, while Ricochet leaned his battered body over Kong’s body, shielding him from the blast. When the final explosion had settled, the two men stood and backed away. They needed to find help for them, now.

Sam cried then. Fat tears that plopped on Kong’s chest and ran over his side. It was all a nightmare she thought. She’d wake up and none of it would be real. Kong would still be out of her life, she’d visit Uncle Walt and begin to prepare for another mission and the last couple of days would never have happened.

Lying her head on his chest, she cried until no more tears would come. It would be the last time, she promised herself. The last time she cried for a man she loved, because she would never allow her heart to be stolen and broken again.

* * * * *

Walt held Sam’s hand as she was wheeled to the awaiting ambulance. When he reached her she was withdrawn and despondent. When he pulled her from Kong’s chest, she wrapped herself around him and clung. It reminded him of when she was a child and had nightmares. He would hold her and tell her stories until she drifted back to sleep.

He watched as Kong was loaded into another ambulance by frantic EMTs. They swarmed over him, pushing needles into his arms and pumping air into his lungs. Boomer and Ricochet stood nearby watching, their faces blank and their eyes moist. He felt for the two men, he knew what it was like to lose a friend and not be able to do anything about it.

When Kong was finally loaded, the ambulance sped away throwing dirt and rocks into the air.

Boomer and Ricochet walked slowly toward him, their shoulders hunched in defeat. When they reached him, they both looked down at Sam.

“They’re both being taken to the same hospital?” Boomer asked.

Walt nodded, then leaned down and kissed the top of Sam’s head. “I’ll follow you to the hospital honey.” When she didn’t respond, he squeezed her hand, then moved away to let her be loaded into another ambulance.

“Lowe’s condition?” he asked.

“He’s still alive. Barely, but still alive. They think they got to him in time,” Boomer said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and asked, “What about the agent? What will happen to him?”

Walt looked over to where the federal agents were clustered. An EMT was administering first aid to the man’s mouth, while other agents were questioning him. “I’m not sure yet. But I’ll make sure they know what happened here today. He knew what he was doing. Once I told him Kong was elite forces, he panicked. I guess he figured if he blew the house while they were still inside, there wouldn’t be any evidence to back me up.”

“Son of a bitch doesn’t deserve his badge,” Ricochet grumbled.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Walt sneered. “I’ll do everything I can to have it taken from him.”

Silence stretched between the three then Walt reached out his hand. “Thank you, for everything.”

“She’s our friend,” Boomer said as he shook Walt’s hand.

“Yeah, she’s one cool lady,” Ricochet said, smiling.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Two weeks later

Sweat beaded on Sam’s forehead as she stretched her stiff, achy muscles. Two weeks of lying in bed was enough. The swelling in her face had gone away, leaving nothing behind but small cuts and yellowed skin. Her wrists were healing nicely. Scabs had formed where once her skin had been torn. Her knee was the only problem she had now. It wasn’t broken, just hyper-extended from a kick she’d taken during her fight. Some exercises would strengthen it and soon she would be back to work again.

“Hey baby girl.” Ricochet came strutting into her hospital room with a huge smile on his face. Sam couldn’t help smiling back. He was wearing his traditional blue jeans, hiker boots and brightly colored t-shirt and looked good. She’d asked him once why he wore such bright shirts. His response made her laugh. “When ya gotta wear camo all the time, ya take advantage of the times ya don’t have to, besides, the ladies like it.”

“Hey yourself. Where’s Boomer?” she asked wiping the sweat from her brow.

“Oh, he’ll be along shortly. He had another visit to make.”

Sam knew who he was visiting. She’d asked Boomer only once how Mark was doing. When he told her the damage wasn’t nearly as bad as everyone thought, she scolded herself for asking. Then he told her the damage wasn’t bad, but the amount of blood he lost was severe. It was a miracle he’d survived. Then she scolded herself for being callous.

“I hear you’re being sprung today,” Ricochet said intruding on her thoughts.

“That’s right. I can’t wait to get home. Uncle Walt’s flying me home. I guess he thinks I can’t make the ride,” she said rolling her eyes. Walt had sat by her bedside every day talking. Her depression was only lifted when Boomer and Ricochet started making daily visits. They played poker, told stories and snuck junk food in to her. Neither man offered information about Mark and she didn’t ask. If she was going to be able to move on, she couldn’t cling to a fantasy.

“I think he’s just anxious to get you home.” The low, slow voice drifted in the room from the doorway. He’d been in Kong’s room, two doors down, delivering a package that Kong had asked him to pick up.

“Hey Boomer. Come to see me off?” she asked tossing the last of her belongings into her pack.