Noble Intentions: Season Three (39 page)

“No,” Alex said. “Sasha picked him
up and dropped him off here. He’s down with Gloria.”

“Think he’ll be any use to us
anymore?”

“Not sure. He’s still pretty shaken
up about all of this. Might be better to keep him in the bunker room.”

“We might need him. I’d presume he
knows more about his partner Godfrey than anyone else.”

“If that were true, then he’d have
known that the guy was corrupt,” Jon said.

“Point taken,” Jack said. “I’d
still like to talk to him.”

Jon’s cell rang. He excused himself
and stepped out of the room to take the call.

“I’ll phone down and have Mason
sent up,” Alex said.

Jack took a seat next to Bear, who
had poured two fingers of whiskey into a glass. Jack took the glass and drained
it in one pull. He hoped the alcohol would settle his nerves. Doubted it would,
though. He’d reached the point of no return.

Alex set the phone down. “He’ll be
up in a few. Go easy on him, Jack.”

Jack nodded. He didn’t think
treating Mason the way he had treated Jon in the tunnel would exact any results
other than damaging the guy further.

Jon rushed back into the room. He
placed both hands on the table, leaned over, could hardly breathe.

“What is it?” Alex said.

“They’ve located Godfrey,” Jon
said.

The news came as a shock to them,
but their disbelief soon turned to excitement. As best any of them could tell,
a huge piece of the puzzle lay with Godfrey. They had to act on any tip that
placed them within the vicinity of the man. For all Jack knew, taking him down
could put an end to the whole ordeal.

A tense moment passed as each man
looked at another.

“Where is he?” Bear said.

“Other side of town,” Jon said.
“Someone reported a suspicious car that pulled in behind an abandoned house.
They got the plates. The car’s registered to Joseph Godfrey. Our Joseph
Godfrey.”

“And the house?” Jack said.

“That’s the kicker. The house is owned
by Joe Godfrey and Ben Kemp. That second name sound familiar to you?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Mason said he
pulled the trigger on Naseer.”

Jon nodded. “Seals the deal.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Jack
said.

“How’s that?”

“If we believe that Godfrey worked with
Naseer, why would he own a house with the guy who killed Naseer?”

“We need Mason up here, now,” Jon
said.

“He’s on the way,” Alex said.

“Maybe this didn’t go down the way
Mason told us,” Jack said.

“Jack, what are you thinking?” Alex
said.

Jack took a moment. He stared at
the checkerboard inlay in the center of the table. He set his glass down and
stood. “I’m wondering if maybe Kemp had started attacking his own men. He was
going to be a pretend hostage to get Naseer out of the house. Naseer alone, forget
it, he’d be shot dead with or without those explosives. But take one of Mason’s
men, the guy might have a change of heart. Once Naseer and Kemp were clear of
the house, their escape would have been easy. Heavily wooded area. Nothing but
small towns nearby. Local police forces couldn’t be much more than a couple
cops one at a time. So you’ve got at least the two of them, maybe more. Hell,
there could have been others waiting nearby to pick them up.”

Jon said, “They might have known. I
think they did know about the raid ahead of time. Things just got out of
control.”

Jack nodded as he paced the area
between the wall and the table. “That might explain why we saw Owen in that
store, but never at the house. Kemp and Owen are close. One might have
introduced the other to Naseer. I saw Owen kill Thornton. He did it in Naseer’s
presence. Hell, he did it for Naseer.”

“How would Mason have known?” Bear
said.

“Because I saw Kemp shoot two of my
guys in the back of their heads.”

They all turned toward the door and
saw Mason standing there. He looked twenty times worse than he had that
morning. The bruises on his face had darkened. His eyes were swollen and
purple. His knuckles were the size and color of plums. His arms were wrapped in
gauze, and bandages lined his forehead.

“I saw that son of a bitch shoot my
men, and then I shot him and that bastard Naseer. That’s when things went
downhill. I realized the explosives were going to detonate. It wasn’t instant,
you see. I had time to think. That’s the only reason I yelled on the radio
beforehand. It was for effect, mostly. My guys were all dead or had no chance
of getting out of the house. Between Kemp and Naseer’s guys, they’d executed
almost all of them. Naseer had two men in the house. Both had managed to get
out. I thought that maybe this would all go away with Naseer dead. If he was
behind the attacks and the threats, it’d end with his death. So I barked the
orders to get out and managed to clear the doorway just in time. In all
honesty, it wouldn’t have bothered me if I’d blown up.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Alex
said.

Mason leaned to the side and rested
his head on the wall. “I didn’t want to sully the reputation of my men. If the
truth about Kemp came out, then the integrity of all those who perished would
come into question. They don’t deserve that. Their families don’t deserve
that.”

No one said anything for a moment.
Stares were shared from across the table. Everyone sat in a state of disbelief.

“What was Kemp’s relationship with
Godfrey?” Jack said.

“They were friends. Better than he
and I, that’s for sure. They used to do stuff together outside the job. I
always figured if something happened to me, they’d find a way to bump Kemp up
so the two of them could be partners.”

“You ever hear anything about them
owning a house together?” Jack said.

Mason shook his head. “Why?”

“We’ve got a lead on a man entering
an abandoned house. House is owned by Kemp and Godfrey. Description of the man
matches Godfrey.”

“There’s more,” Jon said.

“What is it?” Jack said.

“A second man.”

“Description?”

“No match.”

Godfrey, plus one. Who could it be,
Jack wondered. “We’ve got to get to that house.”

“One more thing,” Jon said while
staring down at a pencil he rolled from one hand to the other.

“What else?” Jack said.

Jon looked up, took a moment, then
said, “The caller said he saw a woman and a young girl in the backseat of the
car.”

Jack watched as each man’s
expression changed. Either everyone shared a bad batch of coffee, or they all
came to the same realization at that moment. One MI5 agent, perhaps two,
possibly more, had Mia and Hannah in their possession. It made no sense. Some
would say it was a downright illogical conclusion just based on who they had
been talking about.

It tied Alex and Jack even tighter
together in the web of deception. Someone, the same someone at that, wanted
both of them dead.

“Let’s get to that house,” Alex
said.

“We’re sending a team to surround
the neighborhood now,” Jon said.

“Keep them at a distance,” Jack
said. “We don’t need these guys to realize they’ve been surrounded. That could
be disastrous for those girls.”

“They’re worth more to them alive,”
Alex said.

“When it comes to me, yeah,” Jack
said. “Not to you, though.”

“I give you my word no harm will
come to them if it’s up to me,” Alex said.

“What haven’t you told me?”

“I’m not following.”

“Where’s the connection? I can’t
find it. Mia and Hannah are connected to me, not you. The only connection we
share right now is someone wants both of us dead.”

Alex shook his head. “Does it
matter, Jack? We’re in this together now.”

Jack nodded.

“Any ideas?” Alex said.

“We both pissed off the same
person.”

“I piss off lots of people, Jack.
It comes with the job. Who have you upset?”

“Got an hour or two?”

Alex nodded, smiled.

“What about Sasha?” Jack said.

“We’re wasting time,” Jon said.

Alex rose and started toward the
door. “You’re right. We’ll meet up with her later. Let’s go.”

A cloud of dust rushed in from
under the door and plumed into the air. Hannah stiffened in preparation of
someone entering the room. What now? The door flung open. Mia jolted up, broke
free from Hannah’s grasp. Hannah adjusted her position and clasped her hands
together and pulled the girl back into her chest. The light that flooded in
silhouetted the man in the doorway. Without seeing his features, she could tell
he was the older guy. Tall with short blond hair. Even if she hadn’t been able
to see him, she would have known. He stunk like rotten trash.

“Get up,” he said.

“Why?” Hannah said.

“Because I said so.”

“No, we’re staying right here.”

“No you’re not. You’re coming with
me.”

“Where are you taking us?”

“Someplace else.”

“What are you going to do to us?”

The guy said nothing.

“Answer me.”

He crossed the room, grabbed Hannah
by the hair and dragged her out of bed. “You shut up and do what I tell you.”

She screamed and kicked and
punched. One shot managed to connect with his midsection. Pain radiated through
her wrist and arm. She howled. He laughed and dropped her on the floor.

“If you’re not in that hallway in
thirty seconds I’ll put a bullet in your brain. If you don’t believe me, then
believe this. It’s not you they care about. Only the little girl.”

The guy left the room and Hannah
curled up into a ball. Her tears slid across her face and pooled on the dusty
floor. She felt Mia’s small hand on her shoulder. The girl grabbed a fistful of
Hannah’s shirt and began pulling.

Hannah’s right arm felt like lead
and hurt like hell, so she pushed off the floor with her left, then used the
mattress to help her stand.

“Let’s go, Mia,” she said.

Mia stayed close to her as they
exited the room. The guy stood in the hall on the other side of the stairs.
Beams of light came in through dirty windows. They cast shadows across his
face, distorting his smile and making him look like an evil comic book
character.

“After you,” he said.

Hannah ushered Mia in front of her,
then she descended the stairs. She proceeded with caution, as the stairs were
rickety, and she had to use her left hand to stabilize her right arm, which she
feared to be broken. Without the benefit of the rail, she worried that she’d
slip off a broken step and collapse on top of Mia. Step by step they traveled
until they reached the bottom of the stairs. From there they made their way
into the kitchen. The other man rested at the small table in the corner. He had
a large radio on the table and fidgeted with the dial. Based on the chatter
that came through the device, Hannah figured it was a police scanner.

“Keep moving,” the older guy said.

They passed through the kitchen.
The guy at the table didn’t bother to look up. Hannah could have burned holes
into him with her stare. She stopped in front of a door that led to the garage.

“Open it,” the guy said.

She did, and then she took the
three steps down into the garage. Confined gasoline vapors choked the air out
of her. When she swallowed, the taste burned itself into her mouth and throat
where cottonmouth had moments ago prevailed.

She let go of her broken arm and
grabbed Mia’s hand. She led the child to the car and pulled open the back
passenger side door.

“No,” the guy said.

She turned. “No what?”

He held two black sacks in his
hands. Tossed them to her.

“One on the girl’s head. The other
on yours.”

Hannah let the bags bounce off of
her. She stood defiant, glared at the man.

“You want the other arm to match?
How about a leg?” He smiled, looked at Mia. “How about hers?”

“Enough,” Hannah said. She did as
told. She maintained eye contact with the guy up till the moment she slipped
the bag over her head. In the darkness, she guided Mia to the open door.

“Stop,” the guy said.

“What?” Hannah said, frustrated.

She heard the trunk pop open.

“You’re not riding in the back
seat.”

Mia began to cry. Hannah had to
force herself not to join the little girl. She felt a large hand in the middle
of her back. She reached out and swatted side to side with her left arm,
attempting to drive the man away from Mia. In her futility, she hit Mia in the
head. Hannah grasped Mia’s shirt. The little girl called out. Not from the hit,
or from being held. The guy had pulled her away.

“Up you go,” the guy said.

Hannah’s hand slipped free of the
child’s shirt. A moment later, the guy’s hand wrapped around the back of her
head and forced her forward.

“Easy goes it, lady,” he said.
“Wouldn’t want you to bump your head.”

Hannah gave in and let him guide
her into the trunk. Her knees bumped against the car’s frame. Her right arm hit
the carpeted trunk first. She groaned, but refused to yell out in pain. When
the lid slammed shut, she found herself in an uncontrollable panic. She
struggled to breathe. Her heart raced well over one hundred beats per minute.
She kicked at the trunk lid, the back seat.

Please get me out of here!

“It’s going to be OK, Hannah.”

At once, Mia’s quiet voice soothed
and settled her. For all the thoughts Hannah had that she had to be the one to
remain strong and protect Mia, it was the girl who’d calmed her.

The car began to back up. Mia
scooted closer. Hannah wrapped her arm around the girl. Every time the vehicle
started and stopped, they rolled together. Being confined and behind a double
wall of darkness, she lost track of time. The drive could have taken five
minutes, or it could have been an hour. She had no idea. The car came to a
stop. She waited. The breeze that blew into the trunk when the lid finally
lifted coated her sweat soaked body and drove a chill through her. She clutched
Mia tight as someone, the man she assumed, tried to pull the little girl away.