The Return of Elliott Eastman (26 page)

Chapter Sixty-Two

Greer sat bolt upright in his bunk. The fire in the potbelly stove had burned down to embers. A slight whiff of a breeze moved the curtains on either side of the window on the far wall. They brushed the wood siding of the bunkhouse with a very faint wisp of sound. A night bird called in the distance. These were all familiar sounds. Something else had brought the long time ranch hand out of a deep sleep. There it was again. He recognized the sound as that of the slow creak of a deck board bending under weight. Someone, or something, was over at the main house moving across the wrap around deck. Quietly Greer pulled on his boots over his long johns, lifted the double barreled .20 gauge shotgun from where it rested by the door and quietly stepped outside. A sliver of moon provided scant light, but Greer could still make out two figures in the deep shadows beside the house. As he watched, they rounded the corner of the house heading for the bedroom wing. Greer crept forward. The shadows stopped and one raised his right leg and planted a boot right in the middle of the French doors that led to the master bedroom. With the sound of splintering wood and shattered glass the door exploded inwards. The two men stepped inside and unloaded three shots each at the lump in the center of the bed. A split second later, from behind the two men, a bright flashlight burst to life spraying the two startled men with a halo of luminescence.

Elliott, seated in chair in the far corner of the room with a rifle leveled at them said, “I believe you owe me some new French doors and a mattress.”

“What the hell?” Bud mumbled, squinting into the blinding light.

“I suppose you were never taught when you mount an attack you should already have plotted your route of retreat,” Elliott advised.

Greer stepped into the room with glass crunching beneath his boots and the shotgun trained on the intruders saying, “You alright boss?”

“I’m fine. I’ve been listening to their slow progress around the house for the last ten minutes.”

“Drop yer guns,” Greer demanded.

The guns clattered to the floor.

“Who are you?” Elliott asked.

A voice spoke from the darkness. “It don’t matter who they are. Walk out here with your hands held high or one of you is gonna die in the next few seconds.”

Greer held the rifle above his head and stepped outside the door with Elliott not far behind.

“Set your guns at your feet and head for the road that leads outta here,” Reggie ordered. “Bud, Hulk, let’s get moving before someone else shows up. After all the racket you knuckleheads made I’m hoping this old guy is the only dude around here.”

The men walked about one hundred yards up the road with the two prisoners in the lead, Reggie behind them with Bud and Hulk bringing up the rear. Then Reggie said, “Turn right along this game trail.”

They covered about a quarter mile over uneven terrain and were nearing the forested hills south of the house when Elliott saw a slight movement off to his right in a low area. A brief high-pitched whistle sounded in the night similar to a night thrush’s cries. A response came from a short distance away. To the uninitiated ear it merely sounded like a winged creature of the night, but Elliott instantly recognized it as a cry he and his men had used many times in Afghanistan. Elliott slowed and finally stopped walking.

“Keep moving,” Reggie ordered.

“I can’t. I’ve got one titanium leg and the other one is in a cast. Look, we know where this is headed. Let the old man go. It’s me you want. He’s not important to you.”

“He’s seen our faces. He ain’t going nowhere and I ain’t carrying your dead bodies for a couple hundred yards into the trees. It ain’t much further and then we’ll plug you and bury your bodies in the brush.”

“Look, God damn you. He’s just a lonely old man. He’s half blind and probably couldn’t pick you out of a lineup if his life depended on it!” Elliott shouted.

The captor’s eyes locked for a moment on Elliott’s raging display in the glow of the flashlight when a dull thud sounded close by and Hulk fell to the ground. As Bud looked around a rifle butt crashed into the side of his head and he fell to the ground also. Alerted by the noise behind him Reggie turned, but just as he did so a cold metal blade touched the side of his neck and a low voice said, “One sound and I slit your throat. Drop the rifle.”

The rifle clattered to the ground and then another sharp blow sounded and Reggie crumpled down beside his rifle.

Two figures materialized out of the night. Dressed in complete black with darkened faces and stocking caps, Jim Buckner and Gordon Harrison stepped forward asking, “You guys okay?”

“Yeah,” Elliott replied. “Where did you come from?”

“Once we were done interviewing Soro, Archie had him followed. Soro met with these jokers and Archie had a feeling they might try something. He figured it would be here at the ranch rather than in D.C. so he gave us some time off for camping nearby. We heard the gun shots at the house and then heard you guys marching along the road and just trailed along waiting for a chance to get close.”

“I’m glad you’re here. You probably just saved our lives.”

“What do you want to do with these three?” Jim asked.

“Get their wallets so we’ll be able to identify them in the future, if need be. And then have them take their boots off and walk out of here,” Elliott ordered.

“You don’t want to turn them in?”

“Nope, that’ll just be more unwanted publicity.”

Gordon poured a little water from his canteen on the faces of the prone men and nudged them with the toe of his boot. They slowly came around.

“Greer, you alright?” Elliott asked.

“Aside from being lonely and half blind, I’m fine.”

Elliott laughed out loud. “Sorry, Greer, I beg your forgiveness.”

“You’re forgiven. I’ll head back to the ranch and get the Jeep to pick you up, Mr. E.”

“Thank you Greer.”

Elliott watched as the three assassins removed their boots and began to hobble away through the dirt.

“Do you gents want to come back to the house for a drink?” Elliott asked.

“That sounds downright outstanding,” Jim responded instantly.

The four men had several nightcaps and then Jim said, “We’d better get moving. We’re gonna break camp and be out of here tomorrow. We’re heading back to the big city. I can’t imagine they’ll try anything else.”

“I doubt it,” Elliott said and shook hands with both men. “Have a safe trip and thanks again. Greer and I owe you. See you later.”

Chapter Sixty-Three

Exasperation didn’t describe half of what Stephanie was feeling. First her flight was delayed six hours and then after they were in flight they were diverted around a sizable storm cell and landed in Akron, Ohio to wait it out. Ten hours later they were finally in the air again. She tried to read her book, but couldn’t focus. Her thoughts kept returning to Elliott. She knew something was terribly wrong. He was one of the most honest and honorable men she’d ever known and yet he had lied to her. He’d promised to call when he was in DC and hadn’t. And if he was giving a speech of that magnitude, one witnessed by millions across the nation and around the globe, he had to have known weeks in advance and could have called her if he wished to do so. She knew he still loved her. A woman sensed these things. His voice softened noticeably when he spoke to her and he would listen intently to the least important little thing she might have to say. Smiling she folded the page in her book, closed it and set it in her lap thinking back on their first night together. They’d eaten dinner and were working late at his office on the first draft of a bill when she reached across the table and squeezed his hand. He looked up and she said, “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll call it a night, but it’s snowing quite heavily out there. Would you mind giving me a ride home?”

“No problem,” Elliott said.

The drive was difficult with a number of cars spun out along the road. When they finally reached her condo he walked her to the door, shook her hand and was turning to go when she said, “Elliott?”

He turned back to face her and she boldly stepped closer to him, took his face in her hands and kissed him full on the mouth. It was a long kiss and she pressed her body against his. When the kiss ended both of them were breathing heavily. She said breathlessly, “I like that.”

Elliott replied, “Me too.”

She leaned forward and kissed him again, but this time she slipped a hand behind his head and he wrapped his arms around her waist. When they separated she’d said, “You must come in.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Stephanie merely laughed, took his hand and led him into the condo.

The plane hit some turbulence and woke her from her reveries. She read a bit more and dozed fitfully until the aircraft landed at 3:00 in the afternoon. After arranging for a car, Stephanie found herself at the sprawling ranch house shortly before six o’clock. She pulled to a stop and climbed out, put a hand over her eyes shielding her view against the setting sun and studied the house. Not a sound issued from the enormous river rock building. The barn and corrals off to her left looked deserted, and the eight car garage to her right looked just the same. A dust devil formed and swirled across the vast expanse of the graveled parking area and then petered out. Scanning her surroundings she made her way across the gravel drive, up the front porch steps and rang the doorbell. There was no response. She rang the bell several more times and finally circled around to the rear of the house. The French doors to the master bedroom were slightly ajar. Stephanie noted the damage to the doors and the missing glass panes and her pulse quickened. After hesitating a moment she pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

“Elliott, Greer?” she said softly. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkened room she saw a body sized lump on the bed. Stepping closer she made out Elliott’s pained features.

“Elliott?” she said softly.

There was no response.

“Elliott?” she said again a little louder and he stirred slightly.

She noted a glistening sheen of sweat on his forehead, reached over and pressed a hand against his cheek. He was burning up with fever.

“Elliott,” she said louder now and he opened his eyes. “You’ve got a very high fever.”

Even though he appeared to be disoriented he said, “Stephanie, what are you doing here? I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“I’ll see a lot more of you in a minute. You get out of those clothes while I fill the tub with cool water. We need to get your core body temperature down.”

She filled the tub and came back out to find him just as she had left him.

“Okay big fella, we’re going to wrestle you out of those clothes.”

She pulled off his shoes and pants and was working on his shirt when she noticed the plastic bag hanging at his waist. Retreating to the bath she gathered a wad of toilet paper together and removing the bag applied the paper over the wound.

‘Here’s the hard part’ she said to herself as she hauled off and slapped him across the face as hard as she could.

“Hey, what … ?” Elliott mumbled.

“Sorry honey, but we need to get you up,” Stephanie said pulling on his arms for all she was worth.

Elliott slid around in bed until his feet hit the floor.

“Okay, okay, I’m up.”

She managed to guide him to the bath where she maneuvered him into the tub. Elliott sighed as the lukewarm waters closed over him.

With loving hands Stephanie applied a washcloth to his fevered brow and gently washed the wound in his side.

While he rested in the cooling waters Stephanie went in search of aspirin, a proven fever reducer.

An hour later they were sitting on the back porch, Elliott in a white cotton robe and Stephanie in blue jean cut offs and a tee shirt. The sun was going down and a cool breeze wafted across the deck. Elliott was feeling much better sipping a scotch and water and Stephanie was enjoying a glass of white wine.

“It was a marvelous speech, Elliott.”

“Thanks, it seems to have created quite a stir.”

Stephanie laughed. “That’s the understatement of the year. This morning’s Wall Street Journal called it a long overdue tongue lashing.”

Elliott smiled. “I did get a little carried away at times and strayed from the material I had prepared.”

“It worked. You do know that the bill was signed by the President this morning?”

“Yes, he called me shortly after he signed it and seemed, in a word, ecstatic.”

“I should think he would be overjoyed. It virtually guarantees him a second term. His approval rating is in the high 80’s.”

“He’s a good man in a tough job. I hope he wins.”

Stephanie studied Elliott’s face. He had aged greatly in the five years since she’d last seen him. It saddened her and she turned away to take in the panoramic view. Swallows dipped over the pond catching insects and cattle grazed in the meadow beyond. The sun was slowly setting behind the snow clad crags of Mount Lincoln which dominated the horizon. It is so peaceful, she thought.

“I love it here,” she said suddenly.

“Me too,” Elliott agreed.

“Why did you not tell me you were coming to DC to give the speech? You had to know weeks in advance. Do you not want to see me?” Stephanie asked, unable to keep the hurt from her voice.

“No, it’s not that. It’s not that at all.”

“Then what is it?”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Like what? You look fine. I’m sure we have both aged a bit.”

Elliott glanced over at her and their eyes met and then his gaze hardened and he pulled the toupee from his head.

Stephanie attempted to stifle a sudden intake of breathe.

“What’s wrong?”

“Cancer.”

“What kind? What are they doing for it?”

“It’s lymphoma and bone cancer. Dr. Yates has done all he can.”

For a moment Stephanie was speechless and then she felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she whispered, “How long do you have?”

“Dr. Yates gave me maybe two weeks. He’s says I’ll go downhill very fast towards the end,” Elliott answered in a leaden tone.

With a sob Stephanie stood and crossed the space between them in two strides and began kissing his face, cheeks, neck and lips.

“Whoa, whoa there woman, I’m not dead yet,” Elliott said chuckling, grasping her shoulders and holding her at arms length.

At that moment Greer stepped out on the deck and caught the last of the exchange between the two. He could readily see that Stephanie had been crying.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Wells. I saw the car in the yard and thought I should check on Mr. E.”

“I understand Greer. Now get over here and give me a hug.”

Greer embraced her briefly and then continued, “I was going to run into town and get some supplies and I thought I might stop in at the Rawhide Saloon and tip a few with the other wranglers. I might not be back tonight if that’s okay with you boss.”

“As you wish, Greer.”

The ranch hand tipped his hat to the two of them and said, “I’ll be seeing you.”

Once Greer departed Stephanie chose willfully to ignore the topic of the previous conversation and simply live in the here and now as she said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.”

“Now that you mention it, I am pretty hungry.”

“I’ll rustle up some steaks, mashed potatoes and salad. Sound good?”

“Perfect.”

“Do you need a refresh of your drink?”

“I’ll get it, you tend to the food.”

“You stay right where you are mister, or I’ll fill you full of lead,” Stephanie said forming her hand into the shape of a gun with her forefinger pointing at him and trying to muster a scowl on her face.

Elliott smiled, “Whatever you say, Marshall Wells.”

After dinner Stephanie lit a fire in the fireplace and they talked softly into the wee hours of the night. Finally she said, “I’m going to make the remaining time we have together as wonderful as it can be.”

She stood and pulled her tee shirt off and began to slip out of her bra.

“I should tell you right now that I have a colostomy bag.”

“I know that. Take it off and give it to me. I’ll take it to the bathroom and clean it out.”

Her frankness startled Elliott a bit, but he began unfastening the straps and tubing.

“You know Steph. I’m taking a lot of different medications. I might not be able to, you know …”

“Do you still have the Viagra in your nightstand?”

“There should be some. I haven’t used it since you were last here.”

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

A short while later, completely satiated, they fell asleep in each others arms on the bearskin rug in front of the fire.

Greer arrived the following morning with a bundle of newspapers and a special edition of Time Magazine. Elliott’s face graced the cover and the caption read: “Hands Down Man-of-the-Year.”

Elliott blushed.

“That’s a little bit much.”

“I object, Mr. Senator. It’s perfectly reasonable after all you’ve done.”

The articles inside included a bio on Elliott and a blow-by-blow of how the bill was maneuvered through Congress which it described as part arm twisting, part artful dodging and part alchemy. However, the article Elliott enjoyed the most was a projection of what the world might look like ten years hence. It was titled, “A far better place.”

Greer held up the front page of the Financial Times which had one word splashed across the top: “FINALLY!”

It went on to talk about the financial fee structure as one being fair and reasonable and sparing the little fellow.

“I’m going to feed the horses, slop the hogs and then take the ATV on a run around the eastern perimeter fencing. Is there anything you need done before I go?” Greer announced.

“You could saddle Dusty and Lady. Would you like to go for a ride, Elliott?” Stephanie asked.

“I can try.”

Elliott made it a mile before the pain was too great. The jostling bounced his insides around too much. His bone mass had diminished so much so that at one point he felt as though his spine might snap.

“We have to go back,” he managed to utter while gritting his teeth against the pain.