Sweet Mercy (14 page)

Fluke moved in. David had pulled rank earlier, saying for all they knew the door was booby-trapped. But he’d gotten sick of waiting. He could feel Rachel doing her ‘spread the serenity’ thing —and that meant she had a situation. She needed him.

Before David could stop him, or object, Fluke reached for the security pad. Hang loose, he told himself, not even looking at the numbers, just reaching blindly, trusting in his luck to punch a set of keys. He punched four times. What were the odds of hitting the right combo? Must be astronomical… He held his breath. Everyone around him went still.

Until, with a soft click and a whoosh, the metal door slid open. He’d probably used his quota of luck for the year. Fluke stepped into the compartment behind the door, closely followed by David. “You’re too lucky.” The team leader cuffed him.

Inside the now-opened door he found another panel, hit the ‘close door’ button. As that door slid shut behind them David blocked it with his wadded up jacket to keep it from closing completely and locking them in. He hit a button on the inner control panel and another panel slid open before them.

It opened onto what seemed just another alleyway—with red brick walls and tarmac paving blistering in the heat from an array of lamps high above. But he scarcely noted the surroundings. “Rachel!”

She turned to him, but so did six pairs of vicious eyes in the pack of 
growling dogs flanking her.

“Hold still!” He worked to keep his voice low, calm. “David’s got more tranqs…”

“Just needles—not the gun.” David hissed behind him.

Rachel laughed. “Boy, am I glad to see you guys.” She turned to the dogs, stroked heads, and murmured comforting sounds. “I think they’ll be okay if you approach slowly, one at a time and let me introduce you.”

Fluke didn’t like the sound of that ‘I think’ and his luck had to be running on empty after daring the security pad, but he didn’t hesitate. He approached her at an easy pace, let her take his hand—she briefly squeezed his fingers—before offering it to each of the dogs to sniff and lick.

Then she moved into his arms, and her gladness and relief washed into him, mingled with his own. Gladness, relief, and more—his heart lifted like a child’s balloon when the string is released, and suddenly it dances on the free air. Did this feeling come from her, or was it his alone? He could feel the silly grin stretch across his face.

“Hey, guys.” David called from the doorway.

He came forward and held out his hand to each of the dogs in turn while Rachel cooed the introductions.

“What’s with the dogs, Sis? You hate dogs.”

“Not anymore. We bonded.”

“What are we going to do with them?” David asked. “I’ve got a whole team set to come in here to rescue those board members—are the dogs going to attack the Team? Or attack Rosso and Hanson if we bring them through?”

“You’ve got tranqs?”

“Just needles.”

“I guess I’d better be the one to stick them. About half a dose per dog?”

David handed her three of the hypos.

Fluke stood by. “Then what?” he asked. “You can’t take a pack of trained attack animals like these to the ashram.”

“No…” Rachel put an arm around the neck of one of the dogs, while it licked her face. “Down, Bobby.” She slipped the needle into a heavy roll of the flesh and fur on its neck. “But I made them love me. Now I’m responsible for them.”

“Bobby?” David asked.

“Bobby Sherman. I named them after old singers. “This one is Frankie Avalon.” She stuck the needle in another dog.

She’d made them love her. And now she felt responsible for them. She’d made Fluke love her too. Would she feel responsible for him? Is that what it would be about if she stayed with him now? That wouldn’t be enough for him. That much he knew.

“I don’t know where I’ll keep them…” Rachel’s brow furrowed. He 
could feel her distress. So, too, could the dogs not yet sedated. They whimpered. Rachel soothed them. “It’ll be okay, guys. Don’t worry, I’ll find someplace we can all live.”

‘Hey—I should’ve thought of this from the start.” Fluke hastened to assure her, “I’ve got a place you can use. It’s on one of the lakes north of the cities—kind of a cabin—plenty of room for you and the dogs. No close neighbors—you won’t have to watch yourself all the time.”

The lick of her hope touched him, but he felt her hesitation too. “Wouldn’t I be putting you out?”

“Not at all. I’ve got apartments here, and in New York, and London.”

Her relief and gratitude slammed into him as she laid a hand on his. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“Oh, but, lady, I do.” He grinned at her. “When the dogs are ready, I’ll help you get them settled.”

Just one dog remained awake at that point, soulful brown eyes gazing at her as she laid a hand on its head. “C’mon, McCartney,” she cooed to the dog. “Your turn.”

David scowled at her. “I don’t believe this. When I wanted a dog you wouldn’t hear a word about it. Now you’ve got six of them and you’ve gone all gooey over ’em.”

Rachel got to her feet as McCartney lay down and closed his eyes. “Who knew?” She shrugged. “Once I stopped being afraid they seemed so cute.”

“It’s disgusting.” David turned to his specs and spoke into the open channel, “We’ve cleared the area near the doors. There’s a bottleneck airlock system, so prepare to advance in teams of three or four to sweep the facility. It may be booby-trapped, but our kidnap victims are in here somewhere and may need medical attention.”

He advanced to the airlock’s inner door, blocked open when he and Fluke had entered. David gestured Rachel and Fluke to follow him. When Rachel hesitated near the supine dogs he added, “I’ll call in a vet to look them over and have them brought out.”

~ * ~

Rachel accompanied the men into the airlock, then stood aside after exiting again. She waited to leave the dock, back pressed against the brick wall as the men and women of Team Guardian and the police forces involved came through. Fluke stood to the other side while the file of personnel passed between them.

It had happened again, when she’d first seen Fluke enter the facility and their eyes had met: that echoing and re-echoing of feeling—that high exultation, seeming to have no origin in either him or her, but to be a product of them both together. He had to have felt it too—but then he’d turned away, gotten down to business with the dogs. Well, so had she. And now she’d 
feel strange bringing it up. What could she say?

The first team had all entered the air lock. Fluke grabbed her hand, tugging her with him, and they went down the short flight of steps and back along the alley to where David’s Honda sat parked around the corner.

“Man, did
David
—my brother the control freak—leave his car doors standing open like that?” She slid into the passenger seat, weariness suddenly catching her up.

Seven

She must have dozed off as soon as they got underway and could only guess how much time had passed when she opened her eyes again and found it late enough for the sun to be well above the horizon. Fluke had pulled off the highway and now slowed, turning in to a gas station with dozens of pumps arrayed in multiple islands before a main building advertising groceries and a Full Family Restaurant.

“Where are we?” she asked, blinking away the sleep.

“Just outside Saint Cloud.”

“How far out is this cabin of yours?”

“Not far now, but your stomach was growling in your sleep and I thought I’d better pick up some groceries—and dog food—while we refuel.”

“Oh, man. I am starving,” she admitted.

“If you’d stuck around at the casino hotel I had a whole buffet sent up to our room.” He gave her a sidewise grin. “Scrambled eggs, bacon, smoked salmon, bagels, pastries, fresh fruit, coffee and orange juice…”

Rachel groaned. “Stop. You’re killing me.,”

“Oh, and croissants filled with bacon and cheddar. I grabbed one of those before I came after you.” His grin widened at the naked hunger she felt sure he picked up from her unguarded feelings.

“Man that was good,” he concluded, pulling the car up at a pump.

“I hate you.” Rachel stretched, opened her door.

“Why don’t you go ahead,” he offered, exiting on his side. “Order whatever you like. My treat.”

“It had better be.” Rachel eased out of the car, stiff from sleeping upright. Lord knew where her handbag had gone. Hopefully it was still at the ashram where she’d dropped it when Tamara had dropped her.

“Wait.” Fluke leaned across the top of the car. “David picked these up for you, thought you’d want ‘em back.” He held out something dark. Her specs!

“Oh, thanks. Am I glad to get these back.” She immediately pulled them on. “I felt helpless without them.”

“Hardly helpless.” His grin warmed her now as much as it had

provoked her earlier. “Looked like you had quite a handle on things when we found you.”

“Well, thanks.” Suddenly shy, she turned toward the Full Family Restaurant. “Meet you inside.”

She consulted her specs as soon as she’d scanned the menu and ordered the biggest breakfast she could find—Three egg omelet your way, plus home fries, plus bacon, plus your choice of muffin, three stack pancakes or fruit dish, with OJ and coffee. The case reports brought her quickly up to date.

The kidnap victims had all been recovered, including a third board member who’d been detained in the company of Tom Stanton. The telepath healer and her colleagues were currently treating them, as well as Mabel and Tamara. They’d interred Johnson in a secure facility specializing in criminal Talents, where he’d have no direct human contact, but would receive psychotherapy treatment.

She found a message from David. Her dogs had been checked by a vet and were in transit to the address Fluke had provided.

By the time she’d caught up with the case files, Fluke joined her at the table, sliding into the seat opposite her, just as the waitress deposited a laden plate before her.

“I’ll have one of those,” he said to the server. “How you doing?” He turned to Rachel.

“Mmmph.” She swallowed a mouthful of fluffy scrambled eggs. “Better by the minute. Still worried about Tamara, and Tom.”

“David filled me in some while we followed Mesmero to his facility.” Fluke relaxed against the padded back of his seat. “The TP healer learned a lot working on Longo. Johnson’s indirect influence—when he’s not actually there—acts like a deep-seated hypnotic suggestion. Frustrating a command causes massive cognitive dissonance, but the healer can come in indirectly to undermine his commands, especially if they go contrary to the natural inclinations of the victim.”

Rachel spoke around a mouthful of hash browns. “How does that pertain to my friends?”

“The good news is they weren’t under any active commands when we got to them. Tom had just returned to the facility with another board member—per Mesmero’s command—so he’d fulfilled his mission and was in a ‘stand-by’ mode, like Tamara and Mabel, waiting in the car. They should be able to return to their normal lives after a brief session with the healer.”

“What about Rosso and Hanson?” She took a swig of her orange juice.

“It will take more work for the healer to root out the animosity Johnson planted in them toward each other. He intended them to kill each other. They’re being kept apart.

“David said to tell you the healer sent her thanks—she said you did a 
good job preparing the way for her. Most people wouldn’t have been able to get through to the men to the extent you did.”