The Defiant: An Unbeaten Path (17 page)

“Um, yes.”

“I’m fine.”

“I just thought.”

“How about having some patience.”

“Noah mentioned the antipsychotic drugs you were on. I’ve known people on them; one guy killed himself. So I guess you could say I get worried about people that are clinically depressed.”

Bridgette’s face went blank and her mouth hung open slightly. “My son said I was on drugs for depression?”

“Yes,” Vincent answered, now worried he had compromised Noah by mentioning it.

She pushed past him and practically sprinted down the stairs while yelling, “Noah, where are you?”

From the living room, Vincent heard him reply, “Here, Mom.”

She reached the living room and laid into him. “How dare you discuss private issues with him. What I do is none of his business, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“If you say anything like that again, I’ll…” She paused when she realized the threat of punishment meant very little. “Just don’t ever discuss things that are private to me.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Now go upstairs, no more spending time with that man!”

Vincent began his slow descent when Bridgette reappeared, her face flush. She pushed past him then stopped a few steps up. “Leave me alone and leave Noah alone!” She stormed back upstairs and into the bedroom.

Noah sauntered slowly behind, as if each step brought him closer to a death sentence. He and Vincent shared a glance.

Vincent felt sorry for the boy and felt bad for mentioning it. He had enjoyed his day with him and was actually looking forward to an evening of fun. Noah had reminded him of the purity and innocence that still remained in the world, but his mother became a stark reminder of the world outside, unstable and psychotic.

Noah walked into the bedroom and the door slammed behind him.

Her voice bellowed right after as she chastised him.

Vincent couldn’t stand it, he was tempted to storm into the bedroom and take Noah away, but he stopped short when he thought that it wasn’t his business. He was her son, and he was nothing more than a stranger. He had no right to interfere, he told himself.

The yelling grew louder as he now heard her call him an ‘idiot’.

Not able to listen, he cleared the remaining stairs and headed for the garage for a bottle of wine. If part of his evening was going to be spent listening to her moan, he wanted to do it half cut.

Wellsville, Utah

Nicholas and the group had drafted a plan of attack, and attack was exactly what it would be. He and Colin would make an assault on the hospital to free her in the early morning hours after Sophie and Frank set a diversionary fire on the opposite side of town using twenty gallons of their spare gasoline. The plan required an additional vehicle, and they factored in using the security’s that was out front after they incapacitated them. They planned on not killing anyone if necessary, but if push came to shove, they would. Their first obstacle was the men posted out front, just how they could take them down without one of them sounding an alarm was difficult to figure out.

“Colin and I will sneak out the back and go around the house next to us. Give me five minutes; then, Sophie, I need you to go outside and lure one of them to the front door. Once he’s there, you, Frank and Becky will subdue him. Colin and I will take the other two down,” Nicholas said, reciting the plan he had imagined in his mind.

“You think this will work?” Sophie asked.

“I’m all ears on this one. I agree, I’d rather not kill anyone. Besides this other bullshit, these people seem okay, a bit out of whack but not your run-of-the-mill savages. Killing them has to be a secondary thing. However, the rules of engagement are wide open, and use lethal force when you have to.”

“I hope this goes smoothly,” Becky said.

“So do I, but what’s our other option, let Bryn get tried for murder then killed? Not an option. We’re a team, we stick together. This needs to go down at the cover of darkness, so let’s get a bit of rest,” Nicholas said.

Everyone nodded, understanding their responsibilities.

A knock on the door startled them.

Nicholas looked at Colin and motioned for him to get behind the door and attack if need be.

Once Colin got in place, Nicholas opened the door to find the last person he’d imagine seeing, Luke. “You little son of a bitch!” Nicholas cried out as he reached for Luke in a threatening manner.

“No, please, no, don’t,” Luke pleaded. He stood in the open doorway, alone and holding a platter of food.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m here to help you, please,” Luke begged.

“Help? I remember the last time you used that word,” Nicholas barked.

“Please let me explain.”

Nicholas grabbed and pulled him inside while Colin slammed the door shut.

“I don’t have much time because the security will suspect something if I’m in here too long,” Luke said, his arms shaking as it held the platter of enchiladas.

“I should beat your ass right here and now for what you did to us. You are the cause of three people being killed; you’re a lying little shit!” Nicholas yelled.

“You need my help and I need your help. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” Luke said.

“How are you an enemy of Wellsville?” Becky asked.

Luke looked at everyone’s deathly stares, even Marjorie glared. “It’s only a matter of time before they come after me.”

“What are you talking about?” Nicholas bellowed.

Luke took a deep breath and said, “The mayor wants me gone.”

“If you want to leave, then fucking leave,” Nicholas blasted.

“But I can’t leave. I know it sounds confusing. I see where this all seems out of context. Let me explain everything, then you’ll understand,” Luke said, almost on the verge of hyperventilating.

“We can’t believe this punk,” Colin said as he stepped forward and towered over Luke.

“Just let me explain, and if it sounds like a lie, you can beat me to a pulp.”

“First, how can you help us?”

“I have these,” Luke said, holding up a set of keys.

“And?”

“They’re keys to the hospital, every single door, and this one is the key to the east rear door. Your friend is just a few doors down from there.”

“Now what do you want from us?”

“I need your help loading a truck.”

“Loading a truck? Loading what into a truck?” Colin asked, highly suspicious.

Luke shifted his eyes and answered, “Gold.”

“You’re stealing gold from your town?” Nicholas asked.

“No, I’m stealing gold from my dad and the mayor; it’s not theirs to begin with. They’ve been raiding banks and taking people’s stuff ever since this all happened.”

“What are you talking about?” Nicholas asked, interested in what Luke had to say but still wary of the boy.

“The mayor and my dad have had a racket going since this happened. They had been using their own people but found that some didn’t agree. Well, those people vanished, you know, left town. Then they’d bring in new folks, convince them to stay, and then hold something over them to get them to do raids on other towns and break into banks or whatnot to steal stuff.”

“So your dad and the mayor are bandits?” Nicholas asked.

“Pretty much.”

“Fucking marauders disguised as clean white folk,” Colin joked.

“I have to say, I don’t really give a shit if they’re stealing gold. Just let us go and they can steal all the gold they want.”

“Those men who kidnapped you, they worked for the mayor for a couple raids until there was a falling out. They took me and my sister to hold as ransom, but Brock and his raiding parties went after them, and as you saw, that’s what happens when you don’t agree with the mayor—you end up dead.”

“Those guys were scum and got what they deserved,” Nicholas said.

“Regardless, I’ve made it a point to blow their cover, and now I’m in a bit of trouble. However, I’m not leaving until I get some of that gold. This is where you guys come in; I’ll help you and you help me. We don’t have to see each other ever again.”

Nicholas looked at Colin and then his wife. “What a story, kid, but I don’t think I want your help. We’ll just let the legal process work here.”

“You don’t get it, the mayor is going to leverage your friend’s life in exchange for you going out and doing his dirty work.”

For Nicholas, Luke’s story seemed like some teenage boy’s conspiracy theory, but then he remembered hearing the mayor’s argument with Chuck. “Is your dad Chuck Summers?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know about all of this; it’s a bit much to take in,” Nicholas said.

“You need to get your friend out and leave, or you’ll end up being the mayor’s bitch, and when he’s through with you, you’ll disappear like everyone else does.” Luke was still holding the enchiladas and the smell was making Nicholas hungry.

“Can someone take those things away?” Nicholas said, referring to the platter.

Marjorie took them and walked into the kitchen.

“Let’s talk in private,” Nicholas said and placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder and walked him into the dining room. “I trusted you once and you screwed us. You have to see this is all too convenient. If I trust you and you turn on me again, I will kill you, no ifs, ands or buts.”

“Mr. McNeil, I hate this place and want out; you hate this place and want out. I need help and you need help. Let’s help each other.”

“So what’s your plan?”

Carlsbad, CA

Karina had been right; the clouds she saw were storm clouds. The winds had picked up and a cool drizzle fell from the sky.

Michael’s lack of sleep had finally taken its toll. Unable to keep his eyes open, he drifted off only to be awoken by Francis kicking his foot. “Keep up, the bird is coming.”

Karina and Anatoly were up and ready to leave.

Michael sat up, stretched and yawned. The nap was good but not nearly enough. He hoped to find a place to lie down on the chopper and catch up on his sleep some more.

The thumping grew louder and louder until a black Sikorsky S-70 appeared over the rooftops of the houses above.

Francis was on a radio and said, “Popping smoke.” He then ran out thirty feet, pulled the pin on a smoke grenade, and tossed it onto the most open part of the park.

The helicopter swung around and made one pass before coming in and landing on top of the green smoke. The side door of the helicopter opened and a man wearing a uniform similar to Francis’ stepped out. He motioned for Francis and the group to come forward.

“Time to go to Montana,” Michael said to Karina.

“Good, I’m also excited to meet your brother and solve this mystery,” she replied and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Anatoly shook his head, showing his disdain for their affection.

“Let’s go, people!” Francis cried out.

The propellers were still thumping, making it hard to hear.

“We’re not winding down, get on the bird so we can get out of here!” Francis ordered.

Michael looked at the helicopter and did a mental count in his head to ensure there would be enough seats. If he remembered right, the S-70s were civilian commercial models of the UH-70 Black Hawks, and his experience from the Army told him they’d all fit fine. He put his arm around Karina and followed Anatoly and Francis to the awaiting helicopter.

Anatoly froze when he reached the helicopter door and held his arms up.

Michael heard him yell something but couldn’t make it out, but he knew something was wrong. His instincts kicked in, so he reached for his pistol but felt the cold muzzle of a rifle at the back of his head.

“Take your hand off the gun and put it into the air!” Francis ordered.

Anatoly backed away from the helicopter, but one of Francis’ men ran up and held a gun to him, the other did the same to Karina.

Several men poured out of the helicopter, disarmed Anatoly, Karina and Michael and placed them into the helicopter, and in a flash they were airborne and on their way to an unknown location with an unknown captor.

“What’s going on, Anatoly?” Michael asked, yelling into Anatoly’s ear.

“Just shut your mouth,” Francis ordered, nudging Michael with a poke to his ribs.

The crew chief pointed to headsets hanging from the ceiling.

Michael and the others put them on.

A voice that Michael remembered came over. “Anatoly and Mikhail, so nice to see you again.”

Michael spun around but couldn’t see into the shadows behind him. “Who is this?” Michael asked.

“I’ve heard you’ve had some issues with your memory. You don’t know how much that upsets me. How could you forget me?” the voice said as the man behind it leaned out of the shadows, exposing himself to the others.

The deep scar on his face brought back a memory from the ship and being tortured. “Viktor!” Michael exclaimed.

“You do remember me? But what I need you to remember is what you did with those coordinates. I need to know where the spear is.”

“I don’t know,” Michael said.

“Maybe you need some encouragement,” Viktor said and looked at Francis.

Francis grabbed Anatoly and punched him in the face, knocking off his headset.

Karina cried out, “No, don’t hurt him.”

Anatoly spit out blood and smiled. He looked at Michael and said, “Looks like I should have listened to you.”

“I told you that you can’t trust mercs,” Michael said.

Francis gave Michael a devilish grin and punched Anatoly again.

Anatoly’s head swung back, and when he brought it forward, he spit again. This time a chunk of tooth came out.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Michael said.

Francis got in Michael’s face and yelled, “Never going to happen.” His heavy New York accent came out that time.

Not caring what happened and knowing he was an asset to Viktor, Michael decided to act. Francis’ face was inches from his, so he head-butted him hard.

The blow sent Francis reeling backwards and into the side of the helicopter. He reached up to examine his nose and pulled his hand away to see blood on it. “You motherfucker!” he screamed and lunged at Michael.

Michael was ready; he leaned back and kicked him squarely in the chest.