Angel in the Full Moon (36 page)

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Authors: Don Easton

Tags: #FIC022000, FIC022020

BOOK: Angel in the Full Moon
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“As far as I'm concerned, these two fine gentlemen in the back of the car are our informants. There is no need to get into how they were ... cultivated.”

Laura nodded. “And as informants, we keep their identity secret.”

“It's not like I expect them to stay once we release them anyway. They'll be running for the airport.”

Laura looked toward the house and said, “Do you think they're telling the truth?”

Jack looked up at the night sky as the full moon momentarily shone through a break in the clouds.
That's eerie ...

He glanced at Laura and said, “Yeah, I think they're telling the truth. Looks like the driveway might lead to a garage out back. I'm going to grab my flashlight and picks out of the trunk.”

“You're not going inside the—”

“No. I'll check the mailbox, if there is one, and then the garage for a plate. If I'm lucky, the garage will have a window. If it doesn't, or I can't see in, I'll pick the lock if there's no alarm system.”

Laura opened the trunk and Jack reached for his briefcase, removing a penlight flashlight and a small leather case from it and put them in his pocket. He looked at her and said, “If there aren't any cars, I'll come back and we'll wait here. Tap
the horn twice if a car arrives and I'll take off through the back. I'll have my phone, but I'm shutting it off.”

“Good luck.”

Jack casually sauntered down the sidewalk while glancing at neighbouring houses. The ones with lights on made it easy to see that nobody was looking out. He turned into the driveway and walked toward the house. He could see a slot in the front door for mail.
So much for that idea ...

He followed the driveway to the rear and peeked around the corner at the back of the house. The back porch light was on, as well as a light from inside the kitchen. Another light shone out from the ground behind some bushes close to his feet. It came from a sunken window well and he tried to peer inside, but blinds blocked his view.

The garage extended out on the far side of the back door. The overhead garage door faced him, but he could not see the far side of the garage or the rear, where he hoped to find a window to look in—or a door where he could pick the lock unobserved.

He quickly surveyed the situation. The light from the porch did not extend to the back fence, where an ample supply of bushes would provide cover.

He crept back from the house and slowly made his way across the backyard, crouching to keep his silhouette even with the bushes around him. He was at the midpoint in the yard when he realized that the back door to the house was wide open. His pulse quickened as he quickly knelt beside a shrub.

Bushes rustled close to him and his body tensed before realizing that it was just the wind. Slowly, he turned his head and scanned the backyard again. The house backed onto a lane, but the only access was a small gate beside a wooden
structure that held garbage cans. He did not see anyone and waited. With the wind picking up, and the hint of more rain to come, it did not make sense that someone would leave the back door of a house open for long.

Moments later, a car drove slowly down the lane behind him. He held his breath as the headlights flickered past the cracks between the board fence behind him, hoping that the headlights would not reveal his silhouette to anyone who might look out from the house.

Without warning, the small gate to the lane smashed back against the fence.

Jack instinctively reached for the butt of his 9 mm that stuck from the holster on the back of his hip. He waited, unaware that his mouth was open as his body went into survival mode ... acutely listening for any sound of danger.

The gate smashed a second time and Jack realized it too, had been left open and was simply at the mercy of the wind.

He took out his phone and used his jacket to shield the light as he jabbed the numbers. The sound of the wind covered the tone that each number emitted as he dialled.

Laura took the call on her cell.

“It's me,” whispered Jack. “I'm hiding in the backyard behind some bushes—the back door to the house is open ... but I don't see anyone around. Lights on in the kitchen and basement. I'm going to wait a few minutes. A gate to the lane was also left open. Maybe the owner popped over to the neighbour's place or something. Would be just my luck to have him come back as I'm leaving.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Just hang tough where you are, this might take awhile. If a car comes, lay on the horn a couple of times and I'll leave through the back gate.”

“Got it.”

“I'm shutting my phone off. See ya later.”

The longer Jack waited, the more his curiosity got to him.
What the hell, I'm not a cat ...

He got to his feet and crept toward the gate in the lane and quietly slid the bolt to latch it shut. A hole cut into the wood would still allow a hand to reach through and open it, but he hoped the noise would alert him first.

He stood erect and walked straight toward the back door.
If someone comes out I'll say I was walking past in the lane—noticed the door was left open and was coming to close it like a good Samaritan.

As he neared, he saw a smear on the door.
Muddy hand print ...
He stepped closer, his eyes looking past the door and into the foyer behind.
A couple steps up to the kitchen—more steps leading down to the basement.

He took another look at the door.
That's not mud!
He looked at the bloody handprint and glanced down at the linoleum floor.
Bright red drops of blood leading to the basement stairs—not even congealed yet!

The muffled sound of a girl's scream came up the basement staircase.

Jack jerked his pistol from the holster and raced inside.

chapter thirty-eight

Laura accepted the next call on her cellphone and recognized her husband's voice.

“What are you up to?” Elvis asked. “Want me to put dinner on the stove?”

“Oh, hello,” said Laura, as she sat sideways in the seat, watching the two Russians, who were listening closely to her conversation. “Yes, I'm just out with that good-lookin' fiancé of mine. We're shopping.”

“I see,” replied Elvis, who was not unaccustomed to the coded phone conversations he had with his wife when she was working undercover. “Bad time to chat?”

“That sounds nice,” replied Laura. “
Tomorrow
night would be fine for dinner.”

“Maybe I'll call Natasha and see if she wants to join me for dinner tonight,” Elvis chuckled. “I bet she's available.”

Laura smiled and hung up.

Jack ran down the basement stairs while fumbling to turn on his phone. The first room he entered contained weight-lifting equipment and he followed the sound of a man's laughter and a girl crying to the next room.

He saw a small panelled door that was partially open in the wall and quickly pushed the redial button on his phone.

Busy signal! Not now, Laura!

Another scream caused him to yank open the passage door and crouch down to enter. The sound of the man's laughter abruptly stopped and Jack knew he had been heard. His finger tightened on the trigger and he pointed his gun in front of him as he scrambled through.

The first thing Jack saw was a naked man staring at him. The man's arm muscles bulged as he gripped a naked young girl by her hair. The girl had a length of chain wrapped around her ankle.

Jack started to rise out of the passageway and screamed, “Police! Don't—”

A flicker of movement out of the corner of Jack's eye caused him to lurch to one side, but he wasn't fast enough. His wrist went numb instantly and his gun clamoured to the floor.

Dúc!

Jack ducked as a second swing of the bat breezed through the hair on the top of his head.

Jack stared at Dúc's face and saw Bien chained to the floor in the background.

“You!” shouted Dúc.“I know you!” he snarled. His eyebrows furled over his eyes in a look of hate and he stepped forward, swinging the bat with both hands as Jack leaped farther back.

“Behind you!” shouted Bien. “Pops!”

Jack turned and placed a side kick at Pops's naked midriff, causing him to let out a loud grunt and stumble
back. Dúc reached for the gun on the floor, but Jack stepped forward to kick him in the face. Dúc saw it coming and stepped back, putting both hands back on the bat and raising it over his head.

Jack raised his left arm to try to block Dúc's forearms, while pulling his right fist back to deliver a blow.

Bien's second cry of warning coincided with a vicelike grip as Pops wrapped his arms around Jack's waist, lifting him off the floor.

Jack gasped for air as he felt the muscular arms tighten under his rib cage. He instinctively used the heel of his shoe to kick back and scraped down the front of Pops's shin.

“Get his gun!” yelled Pops.

Dúc stepped forward to pick it up but Jack gave a well-aimed kick and sent the gun flying through the passageway. Jack writhed and twisted his body. He knew that he could not free himself before Dúc reached the gun.

By the smile that appeared on Dúc's face, he knew it, too.

“Okay, you got me,” said Jack, letting his body go limp. Pops lowered Jack's feet to the floor but did not relent on the pressure around his waist.

“Hurry up,” said Pops. “Get his gun.”

Dúc bent to go out the door and Jack yelled, “Hey, duck face!”

Dúc looked up just as Jack spit on his face.

An unintelligible sound emitted from Dúc's throat and he immediately stepped forward and cocked his arm to punch Jack in the face.

“No! Get his—”

Pops's words were drowned out by Dúc's vomit-sounding wretch as Jack kicked him in the groin, partially lifting him off the floor.

A gurgling rumble continued to emit from Dúc's throat
and he doubled over in pain. Jack grabbed Dúc by his hair, jerking his head upright, while simultaneously landing a karate chop to the back of his neck with his other hand.

Dúc's neck broke the first time, but Jack still managed to whip his victim's head back and deliver a second blow before Pops managed to twist him away.

“Get up!” screamed Pops. “Get up!” he yelled, before realizing that Dúc would never move again.

Jack reached behind his head with both hands in an attempt to grip Pops's head and gouge out his eyes with his thumbs, but discovered that the numbness had gone from his wrist and the sharp pain that replaced it told him that Dúc's swing with the bat had broken a bone.

Pops spun around fast, bashing the side of Jack's head against the wall, before crashing to the floor on top of him and delivering a violent punch to Jack's midriff.

The air exploded out of Jack's mouth like a burst balloon. For a few seconds he was helpless as he lay sprawled on his back, trying to gulp in air as Pops sat on top of him.

Jack was only partially aware of Linh's scream as she crashed to the floor when Pops yanked on the chain. Seconds later he felt a loop of chain around his neck.

Jack tried to claw at Pops's face with his good hand, but Pops leaned back and positioned his knee, pressing Jack's arm to the floor before putting a hand on Jack's forehead, pushing his head to the floor while sitting upright and yanking on the chain around Jack's neck with his other hand.

Linh screamed and came flailing at Pops with both hands. He dropped the chain and punched her in the temple. She fell in a dazed clump to the floor.

Pops picked up the chain again, yanking it tighter around Jack's throat.

Jack felt the darkness swooning in on him. His struggle
was becoming weaker.

Their eyes met and Pops smiled down at him, before leaning back and reefing harder on the chain while Jack's legs kicked involuntarily as his body craved for air.

Pops position now gave Jack a little more movement with his good hand.

Got ya!

Laura answered her cellphone again.

“I could use some help,” yelled Jack. “I found Linh.”

“You what? Where? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, but I'm not. Get in here! Leave the guys in the car and go around back of the house. The door's open. Just follow the noise!”

“What noise?” asked Laura, while stepping out of the car onto the quiet street.

“It sounds like this,” said Jack.

Laura heard a long, high-pitched scream over her phone and Jack said, “It's the sound of a guy getting his nuts crushed. Want to hear it again? Listen ...”

Moments later, Laura saw Jack's gun and picked it up as she scrambled through the passageway door with a gun in each hand.

“Who are you? Two-gun gringo?” asked Jack, as she entered the room.

Laura saw a naked man on his hands and knees as Jack knelt beside him with one hand clenching the man's scrotum. In front of her, Dúc lay motionless on the floor while Bien and Linh, both with chains on their ankles, clung to each other in the middle of the room.

“Bien? What ... Jack? What is going on?” asked Laura.

Jack wrenched his hand tightly, leaving Pops screaming
and writhing on the floor behind him, before walking over to retrieve his gun from Laura.

Jack pointed his gun at Pops, as Laura bent over to look at Dúc.

“I broke his neck,” said Jack, with a nod of his head toward Dúc. “He's either dead or paralyzed. He's not talking so ...”

Laura put her fingers on Dúc's neck. After a couple of seconds she shook her head and said, “He won't be talking again. Mind telling me what the heck just happened?”

Jack quickly told Laura what had happened.

Laura pointed at Dúc and said, “They didn't teach that at the Academy.”

“No,” said Jack. “That was extracurricular. Bush Survival 101.”

“Bush Survival?”

“Learned how to wring a duck's neck,” said Jack, before turning to Bien, who was holding Linh. She was sobbing in his arms. “How is she doing? That was quite a punch.”

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