Reckless (Wrecked) (8 page)

“But … Sarah’s pregnant,” Candi said lamely.  “Don’t we have to take that into consideration?”

“Me being pregnant doesn’t change anything, other than it makes me want to be alive now more than ever.  So I agree.  Let’s do this.  Let’s go finish off the last bad guy if he’s still around, take what we can from here to make the trip easier, and go.”

“But where will we go?” asked Candi.  “And how will we live?  Do you guys have any money?”  She looked at each of their faces, knowing they’d each had their ATM cards taken by the FBI agents, who’d handed them all over to their parents.  “Anything we could have used to get money has been confiscated so we couldn’t use them and be traced.  We have zero money, zero way of getting money, and zero chance of making it any farther than what’s available in the gas tank outside.”

“That’s not exactly true,” said Sarah.  “We may have money here.”  She pointed to the guy on the floor.

“Good point,” said Kevin, bending down and feeling the guy’s pockets.  He pulled out a wallet with about a hundred dollars cash in it and an ATM card.  “I wonder what his PIN code is,” he said, flipping it over and then back again.

“See if he wrote anything on a piece of paper in his wallet.  Some guys do that,” said Jonathan.

Kevin searched through all the little pockets and pulled out a business card from a bank he’d never heard of.  There was writing on the back.  He held it up.  “This might be something.”

Candi took it from him and handed it to Jonathan.

Jonathan shrugged as he looked it over. “Maybe.  We’ll take it and try it.”  He put it in his pocket, adding the ATM card that Kevin handed over.  “There were four agents downstairs.  We need to go see if they’re okay and maybe if they have any money if they’re not.”

“If they’re okay and totally oblivious to what happened up here, what do we do then?” asked Candi, not believing for a second they were perfectly fine down there.  She and Sarah had made too much noise for them not to investigate, and they should have been standing outside their doors.  It made her wonder why the bad guy’s partner hadn’t already come to lend a hand.

“I don’t know what we do,” said Jonathan, sounding frazzled.  “Sneak out?  Steal a car?  Get on a bus?”

Sarah held up her hands.  “Just relax, everyone.  One step at a time.  First we need to go downstairs and see if anyone’s there.”

Candi nodded.  It was the only plan that made sense.  Staying here in this room made her feel like a sitting duck, begging to get shot at.  Going home would only put her parents in danger.  Calling the FBI would only alert whoever might be tagging them over there to what they were doing.  Their lives were a total wreck, and at this point, it was just a matter of choosing the least awful option.  “Fine.  Let’s go,” she said, moving to get behind Kevin at the door.

“Okay, so eyes open for the partner of this shithead on the ground, right?” said Kevin, looking back over his shoulder.

Everyone nodded.

“Jon, grab that lamp.  Girls, stay between us.  I’ve got the knife.”  He held it up and nodded reassuringly at them before shutting off the light and turning the handle on the door.

Candi moved as silently as she could, keeping one hand on Kevin’s back, the light weight of Sarah’s on hers making her feel not more secure but like she had just that much more at risk.

***

All four agents had been killed in different areas of the house, each with their throats slit.  There was blood everywhere, indicating arteries had been severed.  Only one of them looked like he’d put up much of a fight, a nearby stool turned over.  Jonathan set it upright for a second and then changed his mind, placing it back where he’d found it.

As a side thought, he pulled off the undershirt he had put on upstairs before they came down and wiped the chair where he’d touched it.  
Can’t be too careful.  What if they think we did this?
  He knew it wasn’t likely, but he also hadn’t thought this kind of carnage would be likely either.  The odds that the killer had taken out four highly-trained professional agents but had been stopped by his sister and pregnant girlfriend were too high to even calculate right now.  The fact that the assassin had a partner was the only explanation that made sense; but was it possible there were
two
knife-wielding murderers after them?  Jonathan shook his head, going back to the kitchen to join the others.  He’d figure this all out later.  Right now, he just had to get everyone to safety.

“What’d you find?” asked Kevin, breathing heavily from the stress.  “Are they all gone?”

Jonathan nodded, eliciting a squeak of panic from Candi.  “Yes.  All of their throats were cut with a very sharp knife.  Probably either the one you’re holding or one like it.”

“Obviously, the other killer is long gone.  He’d have already murdered us too if he were here,” said Kevin.

“Maybe he’s one of them,” said Candi, gesturing to one of the bodies.

“Maybe,” said Sarah, “but I doubt it.  I heard them talking outside the bathroom, then followed that guy right to our room.  That means the other guy went downstairs and either killed these four agents or left the house.”

“Why didn’t he come after us?” asked Kevin.  “If I was a killer, that’s what I’d have done.”

“Maybe he wasn’t a killer.  Maybe he was just an informer,” said Jonathan, the picture becoming clearer.  “Maybe he let the guy in and had him just do a sweep of the whole downstairs, then walked him upstairs and showed him which rooms we were in.”

“And he tried to kill the easiest ones first,” said Candi.  “Does that make sense that he’d come for Sarah and me first?”

“Who knows?  What does it matter?  We need to get out of here,” said Sarah.  “We’ll have plenty of time to figure this out on the road.”

“Check their pockets.  Check any bags they brought.  See if they have money or ATM cards we can use,” said Kevin.

They fanned out, each taking a body.  Jonathan could hear his sister crying and Sarah complaining angrily.

“You stupid jerk!” ranted Sarah.  “Why’d you have to go and get killed like this?  You’ve got blood all over the place, and you just left us up there to get stabbed.  I don’t want to die by stabbing, okay?  I want to die of old age with my hot husband next to me in bed.  You stupid bastien, lamefudge, jerkbag.”  And on and on it went.

Jonathan smiled, knowing Sarah was doing okay mentally if she had the presence of mind to be angry at the dead agent.  His sister was another story.  Her tender heart was taking a pummeling right now.  They’d have to address that as soon as they could.  Her having a nervous breakdown or a panic attack would not help their situation one bit.

“Guys, come check this out,” said Kevin.  “I think I struck gold.”

Jonathan joined the girls in the kitchen.  Kevin had a duffle bag out on the table, its zipper open.  He was holding a folded-up manilla envelope in his hand.

“What’s that?” asked Sarah, reaching for it.

“I’m not sure, but it looks like money to me.”  He opened it, peering inside.  “Yep.  A
lot
of money.”  He handed it to Jonathan. “I think we found our mole.”

Sarah frowned at the bag.  “Whose bag was it?”

“It belonged to that guy,” said Candi, pointing to the one in the kitchen.  “I saw it over his shoulder when we first got here.”

“So you think someone paid him off recently, so recently he didn’t bother to put it anywhere but in his bag?  And then the killer slit his throat after, without taking the money back?” asked Jonathan.

“Maybe.  At least, I think the guy upstairs probably paid him off and planned to take the money back when he was done.  But he just didn’t get that far.”

A muffled thumping from upstairs silenced them completely.

Jonathan looked at everyone’s face; all of them were reflecting back the fear that he felt in his heart. 
The killer’s awake!

“We need to get out of here,” whispered Candi, her face as white as a ghost.

Sarah nodded hurriedly.

“We need to get dressed first,” said Jonathan.  “We can’t run around outside in our underwear.  Everyone will notice us, and we have to go everywhere incognito.”

“He’s right,” said Kevin.  “You girls stay here and write the FBI a letter, telling them what happened.  In fact, write two of them and put them in different spots.  If there’s another mole, maybe it’ll up our chances one of the good guys sees it.  Jon and I will go get your dresses and our tuxes.”

Candi grabbed his arm.  “But what about that murderer?” she asked, her voice an octave too high.

“Good point,” he said, picking up the knife in one hand and the lamp in the other.  “Jon … arm-up, dude.”

Jonathan picked up a gun from the floor, examining it a little before letting it hang down at his side.  “Ready.”

Sarah ran over to him and hugged his neck, kissing him on the cheek.  “Hurry back.  We’ll be right here waiting.”

Jonathan nodded, following Kevin out of the room and up the stairs, the now steady thumping and banging coming from the girls’ room making him want to run in the other direction as fast as his feet could take him.

***

Kevin threw the door open, hitting the guy in the head.  The murderer had somehow managed to wiggle his way several feet towards the entrance.

“Arrrrrrr!” yelled the guy on the floor, a string of probable cuss words following, but unintelligible due to the sock in his mouth.

Kevin closed the door and swung it open again hard, knocking the guy once more.  “That’s for attacking my family, asshole.”  He pushed the door against the guy’s head until it moved him far enough back to free the entrance completely.  Kevin and Jonathan stepped inside, Jonathan going over to the closet to retrieve the girls’ dresses and shoes from inside.

Kevin squatted down next to the guy who was still completely tied up.  He hooked his finger under the wire going across the guy’s cheek and pulled it down.  He took the sock out of his mouth, waiting for him to stop hacking and wheezing before asking his questions.  “Who sent you here?  Why did you try to kill us?  Why did you kill those agents?”

The guy glared malevolently at Kevin, making him want to flinch; but he held his ground.  He wasn’t going to let this guy intimidate him.

“You’re so fucking dead, man.  When I get out of here, I’m going to hunt you down and cut your fucking tongue out of your throat!”

Kevin held the knife up to the guy’s nose, making him cease his struggles immediately.  “No, dude.  You’re not.  Because I’m going to call the cops and have them come arrest you for the murder of those four agents downstairs.”

The guy jerked back and forth some more.

“Just tell us why you want to kill us so bad,” Kevin continued.

“I don’t question my contracts!  I just fulfill ‘em.  Now let me go, and I’ll agree to let you live.  Otherwise, you’ll be dead by tomorrow.  It doesn’t matter if I’m in jail, they’ll just send someone else.”

“Who will send someone else? 
Who?”

The guy laughed.  “Oh, that’s rich.  You’ve pissed off Baskov and you don’t even know how.  Stupid kids.”

Jonathan stepped over, his arms full of taffeta and silk.  “Baskov?  That’s Russian.  We don’t even know any Russians.”

“You don’t have to
know
Baskov to get on his bad side,” spat the guy.  “You just have to interfere in his business operations.”

“What operations?” asked Kevin.

“If you don’t know, it’s not for me to tell you,” he growled through gritted teeth.

Kevin reached out and pushed on the nail file that was sticking out of the man’s shoulder.

“Aaaaaaaggggahhh! 
Fuck!
  That
hurts
, man!  What the hell?”

“Just tell us the answer and we’ll leave you alone.”

“Drugs!  Prostitutes!  Sex slaves!  Gambling!  Laundering!  You name it, he does it! 
Fuck
, now leave me alone.  I have to get out of here.”  He struggled against his bonds.

“You’re not going anywhere,” said Kevin, before reaching up to take the lamp Jonathan had set down on the nearby dresser and bringing it to hover over the guy’s head.

The guy rolled his eyes.  “Oh, for chrissakes, man, gimme a break.”

That was the last thing they heard from him before Kevin smashed the lamp down on his temple, sending him back into la-la land.

“Wow.  Was that absolutely necessary?” asked Jonathan, the dresses making rustling sounds as he moved them to his opposite arm.

“Yes.  He’ll get away if he has time.  We need the cops to find him here first.”  Kevin took the guy’s wallet off the dresser and pulled the driver’s license out, throwing it down on the floor next to his head.  He walked over and threw the wallet under the covers of the bed.

“What’d you do that for?”

He whispered, “To make sure if he gets away that he doesn’t realize right away that we took you-know-what out of there.”  He put his finger to his lips, motioning for Jonathan not to say anything else.  He wasn’t sure if an unconscious person could hear and remember, but he wasn’t taking any chances.  In an overly loud voice, he said, “Come on.  Let’s go to the mall and wait for it to open.  Then we can get some new clothes before we head to the Florida Keys.”  He banged the side of his finger to his lips and frowned at Jonathan again, praying he’d get the hint.

Jonathan looked confused for a moment, but then his expression brightened.  “Yeah, okay.  The mall and then the Keys.  Let’s go.”

Kevin did a silent fist-pump in the air before joining Jonathan at the door.  He took one more look at the bleeding trussed-up jackass on the floor and left him, shutting the door behind them both.

Chapter Three

On the Road

THE SUV WAS LOADED WITH everything they’d found that might be of help.  Everyone was dressed in their prom finery and had done his or her best to look presentable.  Sarah had counted all the money and happily reported that they had ten thousand dollars to fund their disappearing act.  She was still flipping through it in the back seat as everyone got settled in for their journey.  She loved the feel of that much cash in her hands.  It was a small consolation for the fact that their lives had all gone totally in the toilet, and she was feeling seriously morning sick because her stomach was empty again.