Divine Intervention (30 page)

She leaned against a tree, surveying Ben's car in the moonlight. No gas leak, she thought.

Then she turned slowly.

Ronald Scott was slouched over the steering wheel of what remained of Martin Gibney's car. The airbag had exploded, sending white powder everywhere.

When she inched closer, Scott sat up. His eyes followed her unsteady progress.

Swallowing hard, she leveled her gun at him. "Get out of the car, Ronald!"

Scott shook his head. "It's gone too far. Don't you understand, Agent McLellan? Cameron and I were innocent children."

"Like Samantha Davis―the little girl you murdered?" Jasi asked in a deadly voice.

"That was an accident. She was in the wrong place at the―"

"Wrong time," Jasi finished for him.

"But I
freed
Samantha, from a childhood of pain!" he shouted defiantly. "You have no idea what that bitch did to her. To all of us! She'd starve us―chain us to the wall like animals, hang us like slabs of gutted beef. And if Nana was in a good mood, we'd play games. She had her own version of
Survivor
. But in her version? You didn't get booted off the island―you got burned! That's how Cameron got the scars on her arm. That's how I got this!"

Scott wrenched back the hair from his face, exposing the vicious-looking scar.

Then his eyes clashed with hers.

"I couldn't protect her! My own sister, my twin."

Jasi stood dead still.

The Beretta in her hand quivered slightly.

And then a waft of gas fumes assaulted her.

Wrenching a piece of metal away from the car door, she noticed a thin stream of gas pouring from the ruptured fuel tank of the sedan. And a puff of smoke trailed from the engine.

"Come on, Ronald! Get out!"

Remaining inside the battered car, a slow smile crossed the shadows of the man's scarred face. Scott's eyes locked onto hers, daring her to shoot. Daring her to put him out of his misery.

Jasi began to panic.

Smoke sizzled from somewhere underneath the car and she was afraid that her senses would be triggered. Her shoulder throbbed and a shooting pain sliced down her arm.

Brandon! Where are you? I need you!

"Do the time, Ronald," she begged, motioning him to get out of the car. "Then you can start over."

Scott laughed derisively. "Start over? With a face like
this
? I've been scarred for life, Agent McLellan."

In more ways than one, she thought.

Scott slowly raised a closed fist.

When he opened his hand, moonlight bounced off a small cylindrical shape in his palm.

Shivers of dread pulsated down Jasi's spine.

"Don't!"
she whispered.

Scott flicked the lighter.

Raising her gun, she aimed between his eyes. She fingered the trigger but was unable to squeeze it. When she peered down the gun barrel, she saw an innocent, tortured little boy who had been tossed away―unloved.

Scott held up a folded piece of paper.

"I don't need my list anymore."

He twisted the paper and she froze, helpless, as he held it to the flame. Fire erupted and curled around the paper like a serpent, deadly and sly.

"No!" she screamed, taking a few steps forward.

"Stay back, Agent McLellan." Scott's eyes were glazed, lost. "Enough people have died. Justice has been served."

"Let me bring you in, Ronald. Please!"

"It's too late for me. Tell Cameron…tell her, I'm sorry."

He held the burning paper out the window.

Then he let it go.

Jasi whipped around and started to run when a massive blast shook the ground, drowning out her scream. The impact of the explosion propelled her forward―away from the car―and she hit the ground, face-first and hard.

Gasping for breath, she weakly pushed herself to her knees and flipped over on her back, her eyes drifting over the inferno. Smoke billowed from the burning wreck, pouring over her, coating her.

Stunned and battered, she faded in and out of consciousness, barely aware of the blazing car. Dark clouds sailed over the night sky, making it difficult for her to count the stars.

Frowning, she wondered why the universe was so hazy. How could she see a shooting star when there were so many clouds?

"Jasi…"

Someone called her name.

She knew she should recognize the voice, but the clouds were getting in the way. Smoke clung to her mouth, her nose. Every inch of her skin was painted with it. It sucked at her, its tentacles gripping her firmly and pulling.

Where am I?

Lost in the clouds, she searched blindly for a way out. Stumbling in the darkness of her vision, she jabbed her hands in the air, anxious to connect with something solid.

"She's over here!" a disembodied voice called from somewhere.

Lost in the dark. No escape.

Unresisting, Jasi connected with Ronald Scott and slipped into his mind…

I freed Samantha Davis from a childhood of suffering―the kind of pain that torments the body, the mind and spirit. Allan Baker got off easy. He was only there in that house of torture for a few weeks. Then he got out and started over.

No one knows what my sister and I went through. Our own father tried to kill us shortly after birth. He murdered our mother, then paid a sick, disgusting woman to abuse us…to keep us under control.

Nana was pure evil.

She'd drag my sister and I inside that shed, bind our wrists, and then hang us from iron hooks while she tortured our bodies with a lighter. Sometimes she'd take us to Dr. Gibney's, threatening to kill one of us if we told.

Dr. Gibney ignored our cries, our pain and our agony.

And then he'd send us back to her.

We were punished if Nana forgot something, punished if we ate too much, punished if we cried. And each time we were punished, she told us the same thing.

It was always our fault.

A child can only survive for so long, being made to feel worthless.

To Nana, we were nothing!

Cameron, my sister―my other half.

The good part of me.

I often sensed your presence. I think I always knew that you were still alive.

Somewhere.

I just couldn't find you.

So, I tried to find…myself.

Blinking back tears of grief, Jasi awoke and found herself cradled in Brandon's arms. They were sitting on the ground a few feet from the smoldering ruins of Gibney's car.

And Ronald Scott's body, she reminded herself.

Ben hovered anxiously nearby.

"Here," Brandon insisted, handing her a can of
OxyBlast
.

Putting the bottle to her mouth, she inhaled deeply.

"I'll be fine. Just give me a few minutes to clear my head."

Stubbornly, she tried to roll away from him and gasped when an excruciating pain raced through her left arm.

"Relax," Brandon told her, trapping her firmly against him. "Don't move."

"Jesus, Walsh!" she snarled sharply. "Will you stop babying me?" She elbowed him in the ribs and was rewarded with a sharp grunt.

"Just lie still and wait for the chopper," Ben ordered, hovering above her.

Jasi eyed both men suspiciously.

Brandon was holding her tightly, caressing her face. Ben paced in front of her while ripping a piece of cloth into strips.

Why are they acting so strange?

Angry, she flicked Brandon's hand away. "Where's Natassia?"

"She's with Baker and Gibney. Baker's okay, but Gibney…" Brandon paused, glanced at Ben, then said, "He might not make it."

"If you let me up, I'll go stay with them."

Brandon shook his head, reaching for the cloth strips.

"You've lost a lot of blood, Jasi."

"I'm okay," she scoffed. "Just a few scratch―"

"No, you're not okay," he growled fiercely, his eyes flashing darkly.

Brandon shone a flashlight on her arm and her eyes followed the path of light. Something dark and wet stained the sleeve. Then she saw something peculiar.

Uncomprehending, she stared at a bloody, gaping hole in the sleeve of her jacket.

Then it hit her.

Ronald Scott had shot her when Brandon had jumped him.

Judging from the position of the bullet hole, the slug had just missed the kevlar vest. But it hadn't missed her arm. She vaguely recalled the stinging sensation that had rippled through her arm. The residue from the fire had blocked her pain receptors.

But the pain was kicking in now―full force.

Brandon tightly secured the cloth around her arm, but within seconds, it was soaked with blood.

"It may have hit an artery," he explained grimly.

With those words, she realized that her injuries could be serious.

Or worse―fatal.

Jasi shivered, her body quivering with icy cold. She blinked, trying to focus as Brandon swayed dizzily in front of her.

She raised her aching arm. The cuff of her jacket was damp, and when she held up her hand, droplets of crimson fell to her lap. She watched her blood, mesmerized. Her hand was sticky, cold, and she couldn't feel her fingers.

Jasi drew in a ragged breath, her head shifting slowly from Ben to Brandon.

"Oh shit," she moaned.

And she promptly passed out.

25

Saturday, June 23, 2012

~ Vancouver, BC

"How's the patient doing today?" Natassia smiled,
perching cautiously on the edge of the hospital bed.

"Not very patient," Jasi mumbled groggily. "Get me outta here."

There was no answer.

"Well?"

Natassia wagged her finger. "I don't think so, girl friend. You have to stay here for a couple of days. You lost so much blood it put Dracula to shame."

Jasi managed a grimace of a smile.

"Do you know how hard it was to get in here?" Natassia asked, outraged. "Nurse Hitler wouldn't let me in. I'm not
family
, she said. I had to flash her my badge. So how are you really feeling?"

"Two fractured ribs, a sprained ankle, a mild concussion and a bullet wound in my left arm. They removed the bullet. No permanent damage. All in all, I'd say a normal day at the office."

She saw Natassia roll her eyes toward the ceiling.

Jasi's left arm was bandaged, secured in a sling. It throbbed mercilessly.

"You lucky
be-atch
," Natassia grinned. "That means more downtime for you. And something new to add to your collection."

Jasi tried to bite back a smile.

Only Natassia would see the 'bright side' of being shot.

"So what happened after I passed out?"

Natassia told her that an Ops helicopter had flown her to Vancouver General Hospital. Jasi had arrived unconscious and bloody. She was immediately taken into surgery where the bullet from Scott's gun was tweezed out, half an inch from the radial artery. There was some minor damage to her nerve endings but that would heal.

"Did they save the bullet for me?" Jasi asked in a small voice.

The drugs were making her sleepy.

"Yeah. They found your note."

Jasi kept a note tucked behind her ID photo requesting that any foreign object taken from her body be put into a Ziploc bag. She possessed a bizarre collection of slugs and shrapnel. She kept them on a shelf in her spare room.

"How's Baker?"

Natassia flinched as she flopped into a chair beside the bed. "As obnoxious as ever in some ways."

"What's he up to now? Did he hit on you?"

"No, not me. But he hit on half the nurses on the floor."

"Some things never change."

There was a soft rap on the door.

When Jasi glanced up, Ben entered the room, carrying a huge bouquet of blue roses. Setting the flowers down on the small bedside table, he dragged a chair toward her.

"They're from everyone at Ops," he explained, indicating the flowers. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine, Ben. My memory is just…cloudy. Fill me in."

"You and Brandon got Baker and Gibney out of the shed just in time," Ben said. "Brandon told us how he followed your tree marks. He heard most of what Scott told you too."