Death Canyon (39 page)

“Take another step and I'll kill you.” Makter had his own pistol drawn.

There was silence for a moment, and then Makter spoke again.

“The days of you telling me what to do are over.”

*  *  *

Jake looked around at his surroundings. Sweat beaded on his brow. His head was pounding from the blow. He looked to his right—two more feet and he would be close enough to the garage door track that he might be able to use its metal edge to fray the rope that was binding his hands.
Keep arguing; give me a few more minutes.
The only other thought on Jake's mind was finding Noelle and making sure she was safe.

Now it was Jan shouting outside. “Listen, you maniac, I'm leaving
now.
You play out whatever sick fantasy you want with Trent. By the time you're done, this whole mess will be over. You'll get paid. I'll get paid. We'll both be richer men.”

Jan's message sounded surprisingly like a plea.

“You're not going anywhere.” The resolve in Makter's voice was disconcerting. “You're gonna die with Trent, you prick. I've spent my whole fucking life in your shadow. But you were always weak. You think you can control everything, understand everything, by being rational?”

Makter laughed loudly again.

“You wanna know where the control is? It's right here in my hand, Jan. If you want control, you take it, you don't ask for it. You don't reason your way into it.”

The earth was belting out a coincidental harmony to Makter's rage. Jake was six inches away from the track now—the quakes sliding him closer and closer. He used his core to hop the chair the rest of the way. The bouncing made his agonizing headache much worse. When he got there, he spun around so the vertical rail was perpendicular to the rope binding his hands. He made small sawing motions to wear away at the rope. Because the edge was rather
smooth, it was tedious work. He took breaks every thirty seconds or so to catch his breath.

“Who's in control now, Jan?” Makter cocked the gun and pushed it hard into Jan's cheek.

“Listen, Mak, if we both get in the car right now and get out of here, we'll be safe. This thing is gonna blow.”

“You can't talk your way out this time, Jan. Get inside.”

Instead of following Makter's orders, Jan lunged for the gun. They wrestled to the ground.

Jake heard two gunshots, then the sound of a car spewing gravel against the garage door.

Jake worked harder yet to free himself, but before he could do so the side door opened. Jake froze. It was Makter. He spoke in an uneven tone.
Adrenaline. Rage.
“Trying to escape, huh?” He pulled the chair to the center of the garage. “Not gonna happen, asshole. It's just you and me now. Jan will bleed out before the end of the driveway.”

Jake remained quiet, his mouth still taped shut. Makter was breathing hard. There was blood on his shirt. He had both guns now, the nine millimeter from his own backseat and Jan's Glock. After checking the magazine of the Glock, he put it on another chair that was sitting nearby and continued to hold the nine millimeter in his right hand.

He ripped the tape from Jake's mouth forcefully. “I'd like to hear you scream before you die.” There was a crooked smile on his face.

Jake had once feared Jan much more than Makter, if only because of the scope of Jan's criminal network. Now, Makter's insanity was much more horrifying.

Jake's training was guiding him.
Don't bother talking to him;
you'll only make it worse. Stay quiet and wait for your opportunity to disarm him.

He felt around with his fingers. There were only a few strands of rope intact.
Be patient.

*  *  *

Pressed against the hillside, Noelle heard a car leave, so she crept up and surveyed the scene from behind some brush. There was one car remaining, but nobody was outside. She crept in closer and looked in through the window. The house still seemed empty.

Noelle ran in a hunched position to the far side of the sedan. Once there, she dropped down to the ground again, where the car concealed her from the view of anyone who might be left in the house.

She tried the handle on the passenger side but it was locked. With no idea whatsoever about the intricacies of a car's ignition system, she couldn't possibly hot-wire it. Even if she could, breaking the window would probably trigger an alarm.

She started to make her way back over the hill. She needed to rethink her escape. Suddenly, she stopped. A scuffle from inside the garage. An unfamiliar voice was shouting. She moved closer to the garage door so she could hear.

The moment Noelle's ear touched the door, she heard something terrifying: “Not gonna talk, huh? That's fine. Let's go outside. We don't want to leave too much evidence, but of course you know that. Then some worm like you might track me down.”

Jake?
Her heart pounded wildly.

The garage door began to climb. Noelle ran, but it was too late. The killer saw her feet dart from the door and around to the other side of the car parked outside. He cocked the nine millimeter and cautiously moved out of the garage.

“Come out, come out, whoever you are!” Noelle held her breath. Makter's tone changed from playful to matter-of-fact. “Okay, well, if you don't come out with your hands up, I'll put a bullet in the gas tank! How does that sound? Ever seen anyone burn to death?” Makter again waited for a response. Noelle remained quiet, holding her hands over her mouth to stifle her own heavy breathing.

The madman changed his tone again. He was shouting now. “Okay, well, how about this? I'm guessing you know a guy named Jake Trent. If you don't show yourself, I'll put a fucking bullet in his head!”

Noelle paused. “Okay! Okay!” she shouted back. “I'm coming out!”

Makter couldn't believe he had heard a woman's voice.

“What a pleasant surprise!” he hissed as she walked out from behind the car.

Noelle walked around the front of the car with her hands up, just like the man demanded. Makter followed her in and closed the garage door behind them.

She tried her best to keep her hands from shaking, but the pistol aimed squarely at her chest didn't help any. Squinting to recognize the man bound to the chair, she could barely tell it was Jake. He was bruised and swollen. Blood glistened on his face in the dim light.

“A sexy one, too! Damn, I sure wasn't expecting that.” Makter had an evil grin on his face. “Get over here, now!” He led her into the garage and sat her down on the cement floor ten yards from Jake. Rifling through a bin near the door, he found the roll of duct tape. “Perfect.” He tapped her playfully on the forehead with the roll.

Makter started with her ankles, wrapping them tightly and thoroughly. While he did so, she could sense the evil in the man. It wasn't just the anger and fear of a criminal interrupted; it was the noxious aura of a man with horrifying intentions. Whether they were aimed at her or Jake or both, she couldn't tell.

He moved to her wrists, which he bound with several more layers of tape. There was no way she was going to wiggle free from her restraints without help.

“Now we have a party!” Makter said with a malicious grin. “Tell me, Jake, is this your lady friend? She's pretty, you know.” Makter ran his fingers through Noelle's hair. She yanked her head to the left to escape his touch, but he pulled her hair sharply so that her head was against his crotch.

Jake finally spoke. “We're okay, Noelle.” There was calm in his voice. In response, a riotous laughter spewed from Makter's mouth.

“You most certainly are not okay.” He laughed again and approached Jake. “You are going to die, Trent. So that's not okay. Is it? The girl, what's her name?” Jake said nothing. “Anyway, I can assure you she's not going to be okay either.”

With his captor's face only inches away from his own, Jake finally addressed him. “What are you doing here, Makter? You came across the country to have your revenge on me for doing my job? Pitiful and stupid, but not surprising, I guess. Let the girl go, she has nothing to do with our history.”

The confidence in Jake's voice was surprising to Noelle.
He's been in this situation before.

“The girl obviously has something to do with you, Trent. Otherwise, what would you care what happened to her? Let me ask one more time, is this pretty little thing your girlfriend?”

Jake chose to respond this time. “She's a national park employee, you idiot. An agent of the federal government. You want her murder on your rap sheet? I barely know her. She was showing me around Yellowstone today.”

“Ha! The park's closed, asshole.”

“She has special privileges and she shared them with me.”

“I bet she did!” He glanced over at Noelle, who was trying to hold back her sobs now. An overwhelming feeling of regret again—she hadn't bargained for this.

“Listen, I know both of you were snooping around up here. Don't lie to me.” Makter had taken a seat on a tool station.

“You were setting me up, you and Jan? Framing me, I mean?” Jake looked straight at Makter.

He's trying to get information. To gain leverage.
Noelle watched Jake work.

“Of course. That's part of it. Also I just wanted to kill you, still do. Have a little fun, you know? Jan doesn't know how to have fun, unfortunately, which is why I shot him.”

“What's the rest? Why the fake trees?”

Makter looked confused. He took a moment to respond. “I am not going to share that with you.”

Jake went on. “Why not? You're going to kill me, right?”

He's trying to get in his head. Buy some time.

Before Noelle could finish her thought, the captor had come up behind her. He grabbed her hair again, pulling her head back so she was looking right into his eyes.

She could smell him. His breath was awful, and his body odor was worse. He reeked of sweat and soil. His hands were dirty and calloused. The blood on his shirt made her squirm.

Soon my blood will be there too.

“I may not kill little Miss Park Ranger, though. Maybe I'll take her along with me.”

His tone changed. “You know what?” Makter jammed the barrel of the gun against her lips. She could taste blood.

“I had the most wonderful massage yesterday. I think that's where I'd like to start with you. I'm stressed, you know? It's a good release for me. Can you give a good rubdown? What happens next is up to you. Yesterday didn't turn out so well for the masseuse. She made quite a bit of noise.”

Noelle was quivering.

“Do you know where she is now!?” he growled.

Jake spoke calmly. “We're okay, Noelle.” Makter ignored him.

Noelle still said nothing.

“Answer me!” he screamed, putting his hand behind her head and forcing her mouth over the barrel. When her mouth opened, blood poured down her face. The barrel had knocked out a molar.

She shook her head emphatically.

“She's in the fucking trunk!” He pointed through the garage door. “I'll show you later.” He winked at her.

Makter was pacing, screaming and threatening and intermittently cursing Jan.

“Doesn't matter! He's fucking dead by now!”

“Still, he tried to abandon you. He left you to do the dirty work.”

Jake was trying to steer Makter into a rage aimed anywhere other than at himself and Noelle. He was also trying to discern more information, but making very little progress. As had been the criminals' modus operandi during past operations, Makter, Jake was beginning to sense, was really just the muscle.

There was a knock at the door that led to the main house. It startled Makter.

“Fuck! Don't move.” He gave his prisoners a “hush” signal with his finger over an evil grin. With his gun at the ready, Makter went to the door.

“Jan?”

A grunt came from the other side of the door.

“Is that you? Shit. We'll get you help.” He spoke nervously. Mak's habit of deference was still there.

Another grunt in reply.

Makter started to turn the knob. “You're just in time, I've got Trent primed and ready for the big show!”

Schwaaap, schwaap!
Makter's knees buckled and he fell immediately to the concrete. Inky blood pooled around his head. At the door was a tall man wearing black work pants and a dark gray sweater. A black cotton face mask covered his facial features. Without saying a word, the man knelt down and took Makter's pulse. Apparently pleased with the lack of heartbeat, he stood up. Rivulets of blood were headed toward the drain centered in the garage.

Jake released a sigh.
The maniac is dead.

Noelle was sobbing and squirming uncontrollably now. The man took a large folding knife from his waistband and walked toward her purposefully. She closed her eyes and turned away.

The man first grabbed her legs below the calf. Noelle squirmed and tried to kick him to no avail. He coolly held her down and used the blade to cut the tape from her ankles. She tried to get to her feet immediately—her flight instinct had taken over. He held her down for a moment more as he freed her hands. When he was done she got up and ran to the door he had come from. There she stood frozen, still unsure of the man's intentions. The man looked back at Noelle and removed his mask. He had chiseled facial features and short-cropped hair.

“You hurt, Trent?”

“Daniel?” Jake said, surprised. “How the hell did you know we were here? I'm fine, just a bump on the head.”

The agent smiled at his old friend and freed him from his restraints.

“It was Makter and Jan, Dan. What the hell were they doing out here? What the hell are
you
doing out here?”