Page 24

24

It had been a long evening and Tony was anxious to get home. The group was moving toward the back door of the offices leading to the parking garage when Doug leaned his head out of the security monitor door.

“Tony, wait,” he yelled. “Looks like movement outside of Sherrie’s house on the back side. Can’t pick it up very well, but it appears to be a?—”

Just then the sound of an alarm went off inside the room, causing Tony, Gabe, Vinny, and Jobe to hustle inside.

Fuck – someone’s broken in! And they’re there with Sherrie.

* * *

Sinking into the hot bubbles had been the perfect way to end her day. Sherrie grinned, thinking back to when Tony surprised her at the cabin when she had been soaking in the tub. Hmmm, I wish he could come home now.

Deciding she had become a wrinkled prune, she rose from the tub and donned her flannel pajamas bottoms and one of Tony’s t-shirts. Sliding her feet into socks, she padded back into the bathroom. After brushing out her hair, she went downstairs to her kitchen. What was it Tony suggested next? Wine? Oh, yeah.

Pouring a glass of wine, she made her way toward the living room. A loud crash from her sliding-glass door triggered the alarm and as she whirled around, tossing the glass, she saw Hernando stalking toward her. Her feet rooted to the floor, she watched as he moved closer. As her eyes dropped from his angry face, she saw what was in his hand. A gun.

“You bitch,” he shouted over the screaming of the alarm.

Jolted out of her surprise, she darted toward the front door, only to find her escape thwarted as he clamped her arm in his vise grip.

“Where is she?” he growled, squeezing her arm. “Give her up and I’ll leave.”

“Go to hell,” she said, gritting her teeth at the pain in her arm. “She’s where you’ll never find her.” Her head jerked to the side as his free hand slapped her face. Stars danced behind her eyes as she tried to regain her balance.

“Then you’re coming with me, bitch,” he yelled, backhanding her on the other side of her face. He started dragging her through the house toward the shattered door.

Her feet hit the broken glass and she screamed as she began to fall. Still dragging her behind him, her legs and knees went through the glass. The sound of sirens filled the night air, even interrupting the sounds of her alarms.

“Goddamnit,” he screamed again, dragging her backward. Shoving her toward the sofa, he growled, “You’re gonna be my ticket outta here.”

The piercing alarm continued to shatter what was left of Sherrie’s nerves and one look at Hernando showed the same. “Let me shut off the alarm. Please,” she begged, watching him pace waving the gun wildly.

His eyes landed back on her and he lifted his hand with the gun pointing straight to her, saying, “Do it. But one step outta line, bitch, and you won’t make it outta here alive.”

Her rubbery legs and cut feet barely held her as she made her way over to the panel by the front door. Can I make it? Can I get outside? A cold metallic object pressed into her side.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said as though reading her mind.

Her hands shaking, she quickly pressed the code into the panel, silencing the alarm. The sudden quiet was as jarring as the alarm. Only now she could hear her heart beat erratically inside her chest.

By now, the flashing lights of the police were illuminating through her blinds. Keeping her head still, she glanced upwards at the security camera. Tony’s words ran through her mind. I have this placed watched. A live feed goes into my place. I employ several people who monitor the video feeds.

Hernando threw open the front door, holding Sherrie in front of him, the tip of the gun pressed to her head. “Back off,” he shouted. “You get any closer and she’s dead.”

With his arm around her in a vise, her gaze darted out of the door trying to see in the dark. Movement. Police cars. Flashing lights. Tony? Are you there too?

“Mr. Velasquez, this is the Richmond Police. You need to lay down your weapon and let Ms. Mullins go. Once she is free?—”

Hernando’s answer was to slam the door, dragging Sherrie behind him as he moved away from the windows in the front of her house. Sweat pouring off of his face, he pushed her down on the floor in the hallway between the kitchen and the stairs. “Sit there bitch and don’t move. I know how this’ll work. They’ll call and talk, wanting me to give up. But I’ll outsmart them all. You’ll be my ticket outta here.”

Sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chin, she looked up, her heart pounding in her chest. Tony’ll come, I just know it. Staring at the man in front of her, fear still kept her immobilized. Hernando’s crazy. How will Tony fight crazy?

A slight movement to her left caught her eye. Tony? she hoped. A face moved slightly from the laundry room giving her a glimpse of… Bernard? Holy shit, what is he doing here? And in his hand…a gun? Seeing a barely perceptible shake of his head, she quickly looked back in the opposite direction, not wanting to give away his location.

* * *

Tony’s men, in military precision, quickly grabbed their mission gear that was always within ready reach and jumped into the SUVs. Gabe drove one with Tony as shotgun rider. Jobe in the back seat had Matt on the phone following what the police were doing. Vinny driving the other, had BJ on his laptop pulling up the floorplans of Sherrie’s little Victorian house.

“Jesus, Tony. Her old house has twists and turns and little rooms,” BJ groused, knowing that could impair access.

Jobe reported from Matt, “Back glass door at the dining room was shattered, setting off the alarm. Hernando surprised her and has her hostage. The police verbally engaged him but he’s back in the house, holding her hostage.”

BJ pulled up the security camera footage, then clipped, “There’s a second man inside. Snuck in while the police were just pulling into the front. Looks like he went from the dining room door through the kitchen and is hiding in the laundry room.”

“What the hell?” Tony roared. “There’s someone with Hernando?”

“Don’t think so. Looks like he came in and is hiding. And Tony? He’s armed. And swear to God, it looks like a little old man.”

“Goddamn it,” Tony cursed. “Get Matt on the phone.”

Jobe patched back through to Matt and handed the phone to Tony. “Matt? Have someone go next door and see if Bernard Kotowski is home. He’s a neighbor. Former military from the Vietnam era and we think he’s snuck into Sherrie’s house and is hiding. May be armed.”

He could hear Matt shouting orders and cursing at the same time. “We don’t need some rogue old man reliving his glory days with an attempted hostage rescue,” he growled.

Tony tossed the phone back to Jobe. His stomach churned. I should have kept a man on her. I should have not let her go home alone. I should have ? —

“Tony?” Gabe’s voice broke through his tortured thoughts. Tony’s gaze jerked toward him as the lights of the night passed the windows, casting shadows over the face of his friend.

“Stop. Whatever the hell’s going through your mind right now, just stop. This isn’t your fault. You gotta get your head back into the mission, sir, or I’ll personally sideline you,” Gabe continued.

Tony lifted an eyebrow at the threat, but knew enough about successful missions to know if he went in half-cocked, Sherrie’s life could be compromised. So, a nod was his only response as he turned back to Jobe to ask about an update.

“ETA is three minutes, boss,” came Vinny’s voice over the radio. BJ chimed in, “Tony? Looks like Sherrie’s house has a partial basement and partial crawl space. You ever been down there?”

“Crawl space, no. The basement is little more than a cellar. It’s about ten by twenty and is used for storage. Door is off of the kitchen near mid-hall.”

Gabe added, “It’s only got two small crawl-through windows that we alarmed when we were at her house.”

“What about the attic?” BJ asked. “Where do the attic stairs come down into?”

“The hall outside the bedrooms. Never been up there.” Shit, how could I have not checked out the attic?

“Then, sir, it looks like the attic is still the best entrance into the house,” BJ added.

Tony nodded and, glancing back at Jobe, growled, “Get Matt and call it in.”

Parking away from the driveway Tony and his men jumped out of their vehicles, grabbing their gear. Kevlar under tight, black, long-sleeved shirts, black cargo pants, night vision goggles and armed to the teeth, they headed over to meet Matt and Shane.

Shane nodded his greeting, then said, “Hostage negotiator isn’t happy about you being here but the chief gives his support.”

“Fuck the negotiator,” Tony bit out.

Matt placed his arm on his friend, saying, “Easy, man. His job is to get everyone out alive, including the neighbor who you say may be in there.”

“Don’t give a damn about Hernando and I hate to see Bernard get hurt, but damnit it, he put himself in harm’s way when he snuck in wanting to play the hero.” Turning to stare Matt, and then Shane, directly in their eyes, he continued. “Got one plan. Get Sherrie out alive. Anything else? Don’t give a fuck.”

Matt and Shane having both rescued their wives from dangerous situations just nodded. They got it. Family first. And Sherrie was family.

* * *

Sherrie’s mind raced, trying to decide what to do. Bernard was hiding in the laundry room and was armed. Tony has a gun in the nightstand by his bed, but that’s upstairs. No way could she get to it. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pajama bottoms, trying to still her pounding heart.

I know Tony’s outside. I know he’s planning something. Think. Think. Her eyes darted around, desperate to help. Closing her eyes for a moment, she quickly thought of her house. What would Tony do? Attic? Her eyes popped open as she thought about the stairs to the attic from the upstairs hallway. Her breasts heaved in panic as she thought it through. No, he’s never been up there…he’d never chance it.

Her gaze moved to Hernando as he stood over her, shifting his gaze between the front door and the back. Her cell phone rang, the sound coming from the kitchen counter.

“Get it,” he ordered. “Might be the police ready to make a deal.”

Licking her lips nervously she stood, her feet bleeding as she walked to the counter. Her gaze went to the kitchen window, but she could not see out. Wondering if the police had surrounded the house and were watching her now, she picked up her phone.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Mullins? This is Sergeant Levin and I’m here to help get you and Mr. Velazquez out safely. Are you all right?”

“Ye...yes,” she answered.

“Does he have a weapon on you now?”

Glancing back at the barrel of the gun pointed directly at her, she nodded, forgetting to speak out loud.

“Ms. Mullins, we have a visual on you from the kitchen window and see you nodding. Is he behind the kitchen wall?”

Before she could answer, Hernando barked, “Give me the phone, bitch.” She handed it to him, and he motioned for her to sit down in the hall again.

“You want to talk, pig? You talk to me,” Hernando said. “I want out and you’re gonna help me get out or this bitch is dead.”

The negotiator and Hernando continued to talk for a few minutes; he kept the gun trained on her as he rattled off his demands.

Her eyes darted once again toward the laundry room where she could see Bernard now squatting on the floor, trying to aim his gun around the corner. Her eyes grew round as she tried to indicate that he needed to stay quiet and with the barest shake of her head, he moved back a bit.

Her mind racing again, she glanced at the door next to the laundry room. The basement! Tony could come through there. He’d been down there when she had asked for help storing some boxes. Closing her eyes again, she thought of the two small windows. Can he get through? Wiping her hands on her pajamas again, she swallowed back the bile that threatened to come up. Her gaze sought out Bernard’s once more. It may just be up to us , she thought. Oh, Jesus help us.

* * *

Matt and Shane kept vigil outside hidden by the bushes, their eyes trained on the two men as Tony and Vinny ascended the ladder placed against the house. The placement of the ladder allowed them to be unseen by anyone on the inside of the house, and it led to the small attic window. The two men were so silent, not a sound was heard.

“Damn, I’m good, but not that good,” Matt admitted.

Jobe nodded his appreciation of their feats. “Special Forces training. Most missions we went on, absolute silence and surprise was essential.” Nodding toward the now closed attic window, he added, “And Captain Alvarez was the best. Never seen a man train so hard.”

Gabe added, pride in his voice, “And Vinny? Best sniper we had.”

The four of them silently spread out among the police that had their eyes on the house. Always trained to keep their focus one-hundred-percent on the mission, a look passed between Jobe and Gabe, each knowing what flashed through the other’s mind. Let Sherrie be safe, ‘cause their boss—and friend—couldn’t survive another loss.

The darkness of the attic appeared illuminated in a green hue as Tony moved stealthily from the window to the stairs. Vinny’s image appeared by his as they stopped. Both with audio amplifiers, they could hear the voices coming from below. No words were needed as they both assessed the risks. If Sherrie and Hernando were in the hall where the stairs were located, they’d never get a shot off without endangering her.

Speaking softly into his radio, Tony ordered, “Keep him away from the stairs.” Gabe relayed that to Shane who headed off to the negotiator.

The phone rang again, and Hernando picked it up this time. “You gettin’ my transportation?”

“We’re working on it, Mr. Valesquez. The chief won’t agree if we can’t have visual of Ms. Mullins to confirm that she is still alive.”

“How stupid do you think I am? I let this bitch get near a window, then you’ll have a shot at me,” Hernando bit out, his gaze darting around at the windows in the house.

“We’d just like to see her. You can move toward the living room and stay behind her if you like, but then we could see her easily.”

“Not happening. Not going toward the front of the house.” Hernando looked down at Sherrie, still sitting on the floor, a smile crossing his face. “You look at the little window in the back door and you’ll see her, but not me.”

No! she thought. The back door led to the patio from the laundry room. We head toward the back door, he’ll see Bernard. Her legs refused to obey, but several swift kicks to her hips had her crying out as she stood.

Tony and Vinny slipped down the attic stairs and quickly passed through the hall by the bedrooms. They stopped at the top of the stairs leading down to the first floor, listening to the sounds below. Pulling off their night-vision goggles, they set them gently on the floor.

“Target?” Tony whispered.

BJ, still monitoring the inside security cameras, reported, “Sherrie and Hernando are moving toward laundry room off of kitchen. Neighbor is in there but have no visual on him.”

Sherrie now stood in the doorway of the laundry room, visible from the window in the outside door. She saw nothing but blackness in the yard, but knew someone was watching. It gave no comfort. Her stomach in knots, her gaze drifted down seeing Bernard squatting next to the washing machine.

Bernard lunged forward, pushing Sherrie down while taking a shot at Hernando. The shot rang out as BJ shouted “Go!” into the radio, sending Tony racing toward the sound. Escaping harm, Hernando shot over Sherrie’s head, hitting Bernard in the side, immediately dropping him to the floor.

Sherrie tried to move out from under the bleeding man, her hands pressing against his wound. Twisting her head around, she stared into the barrel of the gun, anger fueling her being.

Hearing a noise from the dining room, Hernando screamed out, “Come any closer and the bitch dies.”

Tony and Vinny halted, just out of sight. Tony stepped back slightly, allowing Vinny to move into place. As much as he wanted to spill Hernando’s blood himself, he would only place Sherrie’s safety with his best sniper.

Her heart beating out of her chest, Sherrie glanced down at Bernard, seeing his eyes looking up at her. Get the gun , he mouthed.

Glancing to the side, she saw his gun laying right next to her. She recognized the same type of pistol that Tony had used when teaching her to shoot. Sliding her gaze back up, she saw Hernando pointing his gun at her, but looking behind him at the dining room, listening for another sound.

Tony must be in there. He came. As relief resonated through her, the sickening feeling of his being hurt cut into her solace. Eyes moving back to the gun, she slowly slid her hand forward until it curled around the grip. Lifting it, she tucked it into her front, hidden from Hernando’s eyes should he turn back around.

Tony crept down the hall by the stairs and with Vinny in the dining room, both were ready to take Hernando down. Receiving the all-clear from BJ, Vinny prepared to move around the corner and shoot as soon as Tony distracted him.

A shot rang out, Hernando’s cry screaming in the hall. Both Tony and Vinny instantly knew the sound did not come from either of their firearms. Rounding the corner, weapons drawn, they saw Hernando on the floor, his body jerking in the throes of death. Several feet away lay Bernard, blood still seeping from his wound. And in between the two men knelt Sherrie, covered in blood, the pistol still in her shaking hand, pointed at the man dying on the floor.

Her face bruised and eyes wild, Tony knew she was in shock. Her pajamas were covered with blood. How bad is she hurt? “Sherrie,” he called out softly, as Vinny radioed for help. Within a few seconds, the house filled with policemen as well as Gabe, Jobe, and BJ. Gabe looked at his twin for confirmation that he was all right before glancing down the hall, seeing Tony trying to approach Sherrie.

“Baby, look at me,” Tony said again, this time with a little more force. Her eyes slowly raised to his. “Give me the pistol, baby.” He moved another step forward, his hand outstretched. No one moved, afraid to startle her. He watched her chest heave as her breathing increased. “Eyes, baby. Eyes on me.”

The sound of gunfire still resonated in her ears as all other sounds seemed muffled. Staring at the man lying on the floor, she focused on the dark stain on the carpet. Her vision blurred as her mind tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Far away voices crept into her consciousness. Becoming louder. Clearer.

Her gaze moved up toward the voice that seemed to be calling to her. Someone calling her baby. Eyes landing on Tony she saw his outstretched hand.

Confusion filled her expression as she looked at him. “Baby,” he said again. “Drop the gun, sweetheart.” Tony watched as her gaze drifted to the gun in her hand, recognition flaring in her eyes.

Gasping, she tried to open her fingers, but they were locked. Tony rushed forward, gently prying the gun from her frozen grip, wrapping one arm around her and handing the weapon behind him, feeling it taken from his hand.

Vinny quickly secured the weapon as he rushed past Hernando to Sherrie. Gabe and Jobe had pushed past both of them to get to Bernard, calling for the EMTs.

“Tony, let me see her,” he ordered, knowing his boss would not willingly let Sherrie go. Tony, arms shaking, only released her enough to see to her injuries. Vinny quickly motioned for BJ to assist. “Watch the back door,” he ordered, wanting BJ to help preserve Sherrie’s privacy. With Tony holding her up, Vinny pulled her pajama bottoms off, quickly assessing her injuries. Dark bruises from being kicked covered her thighs and hips. Her legs and feet were covered in cuts from the glass.

He lifted his gaze to Tony, saying, “She’s got some glass in these cuts. The hospital will be able to get it out and get them cleaned. She may need some stitches.”

So much blood was on her shirt, but Vinny’s hands hesitated as his eyes sought Tony’s silent permission.

Tony nodded, trusting his men completely. Tony turned Sherrie so that she was facing him and Vinny slid her shirt off while standing behind her. He quickly ascertained no injuries from the back and with a swift eye on her chest was able to see that none of the blood on her shirt had come from her. She had another large bruise on her side and on her face. By then, BJ was handing Tony a sweatshirt he found lying on the washing machine and Sherrie was quickly covered again.

Tony looked down, realizing that she was totally unaware of having been checked out. Only when Gabe yelled for the EMTs to enter did she snap out of her trance.

“Bernard? Oh my God, he tried to save me,” she cried, trying to move toward him.

“No, no, baby. Let them do their job,” Tony admonished gently, pulling her back. As Bernard was being taken out of the house on a stretcher, the group moved out of the laundry room.

“I have to go with him,” Sherrie said, her gaze still unfocused.

“Baby, you’re going to the hospital yourself. Just because you weren’t shot doesn’t mean you’re not hurt. We’ve got to get you checked out as well.”

Hernando was being lifted onto a stretcher, his breath raspy from the hole in his chest. His eyes landed on Sherrie, pinning her with his expression. “Y…you…ruined… every…thing,” he gurgled.

Her whole body began to shake as her numbness left instantly. Thoughts of Betina and the host of other children coerced into being held captive flew through her mind. Chest heaving with anger, she looked down at his pasty face, recognizing imminent death. “Good,” she said simply.

His eyes rolled back into his head as death claimed him. The realization that she had killed another human slammed into her. She began to drop to the floor but never hit as Tony’s arms swept her up into his. Her head drooped back as she slipped into unconsciousness.

“Now,” he barked to his men, all falling into action. Once again Gabe drove, but this time Tony held Sherrie in the back seat as Jobe rode shotgun. Vinny drove the other vehicle as BJ called Jennifer. Quickly telling her the basic information, she knew to call the other women.

Looking down at the unconscious woman in his arms, Tony thanked God she was safe. And cursed himself that it was her and not him that pulled the trigger.