The Spirit Survives (28 page)

She opened her eyes. “Come on big man, let’s make this fun.” She took off what remained of her torn blouse, reached around and unhooked her bra.
 

The Russian grinned from ear to ear and hurriedly took off his pants and underwear.
 

Macy saw immediately that he was erect and ready. She removed her pants and her black thong. “Come on big boy, let’s see what you got,” she purred.
 

The Russian put a knee on the bed to join her when her right foot shot forward and slammed into his erection and his balls. She followed it with a swift kick from the other foot to the same area. He grunted loudly and fell to the floor grabbing his genitals. Macy was on her feet like a cat and rushed to him and planted a heel to his head. He caught her foot as it came smashing toward his head and twisted it. She fell to the floor.
 

He jumped to his feet cursing, “Damn bitch, you’re dead!” Blood oozed as he landed a glancing blow to her lip.
 

Macy rolled to her left and jumped to her feet, her FBI survival training kicking in.
 

The Russian swung again but missed as Macy landed a side pivot kick to his groin area.
How much more can this shitass take?
she thought.
 

He shrieked in pain and halted for a moment.
 

She grabbed the lamp from the end table by the bed, pulled the cord from the outlet and ripped off the lamp shade. The lamp base was made of heavy brass. As the Russian staggered, holding his crotch, she swung the lamp base with all her strength and landed the heavy part of the base flush on his neck. He grabbed his neck making choking noises. She had busted his adams apple into his breathing passage. Saliva dripped from his mouth as he fell to the floor.
 

Macy darted to his side and delivered two heavy blows to his head with the lamp base. To be certain, she dug the lamp finial into his throat and thrust. She fell back exhausted as the Russian drew his last ragged breath.
 

Macy rested only for a moment, then jumped to her feet and stood behind the door holding the lamp base, knowing that the other Russian would be coming soon.

The copilot waited outside the door anticipating his turn to rape the sexy Indian girl. He overheard peculiar noises inside and hoped that his partner didn’t pound her unconscious or kill her before he got his piece. He knew rough sex when he heard it, and he became aroused waiting for his turn.
 

Finally there was silence. He waited for a few minutes for his partner to come out but nothing happened. He yelled, “Aleksey, are you finished?” There was no reply. “That asshole is going to do it to her again,” he said out loud. He wouldn’t let that happen. It was his turn. He reached for the door knob, turned it and opened the door. Lights went out in his head as the lamp base smashed to his temple.
 

Macy stood over him and delivered three more blows, and he joined his partner in hell. She removed the copilot’s shirt and put it on, as her shirt was in shreds. She finished dressing, and with the remains of her clothing, wiped her prints off the lamp base. She expertly checked the room and wiped clean any fingerprints she might have left. She checked the Russian’s pockets, found the keys to the Lincoln and put them in her pocket. She took out his wallet and it was fat with cash, probably money from Bastone to kill her. She took the money and laughed at the irony of the situation.
 

Macy, the trained FBI-agent-turned-renegade, calmly strolled out of the room and the hanger, got into the Lincoln and drove away. Her only thought was,
I’m going to kill that bastard Bastone, but first I’m going to make him suffer.
 

Chapter 64

I lay my head back and fell into a deep sleep. Thank God there were no more nightmares.

I awoke at 9:00 a.m. as refreshed as I had been for days. I put some Starbucks dark roast coffee in my maker, added water and turned it on. I found a block of cheddar cheese and a pack of boloney in the meat drawer. I checked the bread in the cupboard, but it was molded. I just grabbed a frying pan and fried three pieces of baloney and melted a slice of cheese over it. There was one onion in the cabinet, so I sliced half of it over the meat and cheese. When my coffee was ready I sipped the steaming brew and devoured my breakfast.

After two more cups of coffee, I took a hot shower, shaved, and dressed in a golf shirt and jeans. I plugged in my cell phone to charge it and sat down at the kitchen table with a pad and pencil and a stack of unopened mail that had accumulated during my absence. Most of it was junk but there was one letter from the moving company. It stated that our furniture had arrived and, since they could not reach either Leah or me by phone, it would be sent back if they didn’t have instructions ASAP. I set it aside to respond when my phone was charged. There were two letters from Shopko telling Leah to call them immediately. They had apparently not been notified of her disappearance. I decided to call them later.

Now it was time to formulate a plan on how to find Leah. I began writing down what I knew and my resources to use in the search.

Rex Herns would undoubtedly be a primary resource, and he had proven that he was a trustworthy friend. His authority and connections in Chicago would be invaluable, and I overheard the kidnappers say they were going to Chicago.

I knew I could depend on my friends in the Houston police department to assist me if Houston came into play.

I was also acquainted with the Special Agent in Charge of the Houston FBI offices, Gerry Stewart. We had worked together on Mexican cartel cases and had become professional friends who respected each other. I knew he had contacts all over the USA and would assist me. Special agent Stewart was well known in all law enforcement agencies nationwide for his work and capture of an infamous serial killer, The Bloodletter. He received extensive news coverage and could have been a national celebrity, but he shunned all publicity, refused interviews, and just continued to do his job.

When I was semi-conscious on the floor and presumed dead, I overheard them talking about Chicago, and I thought I heard the name Lacy or Macy, or something like that.
 

The resources I had were excellent, but I had very few facts to go on and this entire venture to save Leah was going to be very difficult. I refused to even permit myself to believe that she might already be dead.

I set my note pad aside and picked up the letter from the moving company to get a phone number. I checked my cell phone and had four bars, so I dialed the number. A woman named Shirley answered and I informed her that there had been a problem and I needed them to put my furniture in storage in Green Bay until further notice. I gave her a credit card number and she said she would handle it.

After handling this problem I dialed the Shopko offices. I asked the operator to connect me to Leah Hamilton’s office. After three rings a professional female voice answered, “Leah Hamilton’s office, this is Brenda speaking.”

“Hi Brenda, this is Ben Harris, I’m calling you about Leah.”

“Ben, are you okay?” We haven’t heard from Leah in days and I know she was looking for you.”

“I’m okay now, Brenda, but unfortunately I have bad news. Leah is missing and may have been kidnapped. The police have very little to go on but her abandoned car.”

“Oh my God! Do you think she’s been hurt?”

“I don’t know anything but I’m going to spend all my time from now on looking for her. I’ll keep you up to date on what I find. Please inform the CEO of the situation”

“I don’t understand—”
 

I interrupted her, “I’ve got to go now. I’ll be in touch.” I hung up. It was time to get to work.

The next person I called was Rex and he answered on the first ring.

“Rex, this is Ben. I want to thank you again for all your help. I also wanted you to know that I’m going to spend all my waking hours trying to locate Leah, and I need your help.”

“You know I’ll do anything I can,” he replied. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’m going to call in a lot of favors and get the word on the street that anyone harming Leah will be severely dealt with. I overheard the abductors say that they were going to Chicago, and I heard a girl’s name, Lacy or Macy, or something like that. That’s all I have to go on. I’m leaving for Chicago in the morning. When will you be back in the city?”

“Since I was sent here to assist in finding you, my work in Green Bay is done,” Rex said. “I’ll report to the office in Chicago tomorrow afternoon. Maybe we can book our flights together.”

“Okay, I’ll call you the airline and flight number when I get my ticket.”

“Why don’t you stay at the Presidential Towers in Chicago? It’s central to the office and would be convenient and comfortable. I’ll be happy to get my assistant at the Department to make reservations for you.”

“Thanks Rex, that’s fine with me. I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

“Oh Ben, one other thing, the vet who is boarding the wolf called and wanted to know what to do with the animal. Will you handle that? It’s Doctor Podany at 920-555-9878.”
 

“Thanks Rex, I’ll handle it.”

I had forgotten all about the wolf and the recollection of being trapped in the cave came flooding back. The memory of the wolf and the bonding made me take a deep breath. I will not abandon him now.

I hung up the phone and called Northwest Airlines to book my flight, departing at 10:00 a.m. from Green Bay to Chicago O’Hare. I called Rex back and gave him the information.
 

I then called Dr. Podany and told him I would be personally responsible for the expenses regarding the wolf. I gave him a credit card number and told him to board the wolf until I could come by to get him. The good doctor agreed.

Chapter 65

Sergey walked to the bar and poured another glass of Diva vodka. He strolled to the kitchen table, put the glass down and sat on the chair, glaring at Bo. He grinned at the big man. Blood was still oozing from Bo’s face where Sergey had kicked him. He had a cloth stuffed in his mouth, but his eyes exhibited fear. The girl was secured to another chair, gagged, but her head was hung to her chest and her eyes were closed.
She must have passed out,
Sergey thought. He grabbed a handful of hair and jerked her head back. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Her eyes looked like those of a dead person, but Sergey still appreciated her beauty. He looked at her body and felt stirring in his groin. Maybe he would play with her later. He walked back to Lopez, business over pleasure.

“Well Bo Lopez,” Sergey said in a calm, almost sympathetic voice, “are you ready to tell me what happened to my daughter?” Sergey reached to his belt and took out a Colt .45 revolver and screwed on a silencer, “You know Bo, this is the same type of gun you killed my daughter with.” He smiled at Bo again.

Bo nodded.
 

“Okay,” Sergey said, “I’m going to take the cloth out of your mouth. If you yell, I’ll shoot you in the balls. Do you understand?”
 

Bo nodded again.
 

Sergey ripped the cloth from his mouth and threw it to the floor. He walked back to his chair, sat down and took a long pull from his drink. “Tell me what happened.”
 

Bo took a deep breath and began, “Sergey, we didn’t know that the girl was your daughter. Elezar Fernendez hired me to kill a girl. He didn’t tell me her last name, only where we could find her, and what she looked like. If I had known it was your daughter, I would have told him to go to hell.”

“How did you kill her?” Sergey asked still in a calm, friendly voice.

“Shot her.”

“Did you rape her?” Sergey asked.

Bo saw the fire in Sergey’s eyes when he asked the question. “No, I didn’t.”
 

Sergey unexpectedly yelled, “Bern, come in here!” The big Russian who had tied up Bo and Leah came into the kitchen. “Bring this piece of shit to me and put his hand on the table,” Sergey ordered the Russian.
 

Bern easily lifted the chair and set it down by the table. He untied Bo’s left hand, slammed it on the table and held it down. Sergey walked to the cabinet, reached under the sink and grabbed a set of pruning shears. He went back to the table, picked up the cloth he had taken from Bo’s mouth and stuffed it back in.

“Hold his hand down,” he said to Bern. Sergey put Bo’s index finger between the blades of the sheers, grinned at the big man and snapped the blades shut.
 

Bo’s index finger flew forward, severed from the hand. He tried to scream but the cloth reduced it to grunts. Blood spurted from the nub.
 

“Bandage that Bern, we don’t want him to bleed to death.” Sergey said calmly.
 

Bern grabbed a dishcloth, wrapped it around the wound, taped it tightly with duct tape and retied Bo’s hand behind his back.
 

“Don’t lie to me again, you bastard,” Sergey hissed. He finished his vodka, set his glass down and said, “Okay I’m going to ask you again. Did you rape my daughter?” He took the cloth out of Bo’s mouth, and waited for an answer.