You are Mine (11 page)

One of the two men he’d positioned in
Chicago had called him as soon as they’d heard Rose talking on the
phone to the CPD. She’d said she had some information to share,
though she didn’t think it would help them much. Well, of course he
couldn’t let that happen and had dispatched her killer
posthaste.

His only concern now was Ida. She’d been
contacting her sister all along. Oh, she’d sworn that it had only
been this one time because she wanted to share the news of her
pregnancy, but he knew better than to trust information given under
extreme torture, which of course he’d had to administer to Ida.
She’d also denied having any contact with her parents. She could
very well be telling the truth, he thought as he crossed his legs
and made himself more comfortable on the sofa, only time would
tell. He was having the calls she’d made from her cell phone
backtracked. In the meantime, he was now satisfied that she
wouldn’t be sharing information regarding him with anyone ever
again.

IDA lay motionless in the dark, afraid to
move for fear she’d set ripples of severe pain in motion across her
body. She thought about Brickman’s latest beating and the reason
he’d meted it out, and tears rolled down her cheeks. “Rose,” she
whispered miserably, knowing without having been told that her
sister was dead. “I’m so sorry.” When she’d mailed her the letter,
it really had been the one and only time she’d contacted anyone
since she’d been on the run with Brickman. She’d only wanted to
share the news of her pregnancy with someone, and in the letter
she’d begged Rose not to tell their parents. She’d tried to explain
to Brickman that Rose knew nothing except about the pregnancy,
though of course she now realized that the postmark would have
given away her location. That information was probably what Rose
would have given the police and Brian.

Brickman would not listen to her, but she
thought he hadn’t even heard her. He’d been so busy screaming his
fury as he’d beaten her. He’d completely lost his sanity and the
one name he’d repeated over and over again was Brian’s, making her
realize that not only was he obsessed with Caroline, but he had an
unhealthy jealousy of Brian.

Her thoughts tortured, Ida cried some more.
Her parents would be devastated. Thanks to her they’d lost both of
their daughters. She herself could never go home again, unless
Brickman were killed or caught and both of those things seemed
increasingly unlikely. He’d been like an unholy siege this time
when he’d punished her. Using a long, thin, sturdy stick made of
cane, he’d battered her everywhere except her stomach, torso and
back. He’d even harkened back to one of his favorites: striking the
bottoms of her feet with a small baton, so now she was hobbled for
at least the next…she did an internal assessment and based on past
experiences estimated two days. She’d have to stay off her feet for
at least two days.

She heard the door open and before she could
help herself, whimpered in fear. Her back was to the door, so she
had no idea who it was and prayed that it wasn’t Brickman.

“Hello, Ms. Ida,” she heard a familiar voice
say. “Mr. Brickman says that you must eat something to keep up your
strength for your baby.”

Ida heard him approach the bed. “I’ve
brought you a turkey sandwich, vegetable soup and low-fat milk. The
boss says I should also dress your wounds -- shit!”

Her caregiver had placed his load on the
bedside table and then turned on the light. She heard the shock in
his voice when he finally got a good look at her, and going by
experience, knew anger would soon follow. She forced herself to
move, each inch making her body scream in pain. She quickly shook
her head and mouthed the words,
Don’t, Ivan! You need to stay
calm
, she continued and looked at him with her one good eye.
The other one had been swollen shut with one punch of Brickman’s
fist. It had been the final blow and had completely felled her.
She’d fallen unconscious across the very bed she lay in now.

Ivan could sometimes be brutish, was ten
years younger than she, one of Brickman’s best soldiers and he
loved her. And she loved him. They hadn’t planned it, of course,
and they were both terrified of what would happen if Brickman found
out, but they couldn’t help themselves. He was always the one
Brickman sent to take care of her after he’d doled out one of his
punishments. They’d begun to talk and in the midst of all the pain
and fear, they’d found one another. She carried his child. She
didn’t dare tell Ivan because then he’d want to either kill
Brickman, or run away. He’d already brought up doing one or the
other on several occasions. She believed the success of either was
an impossibility, but Ivan was an idealist and still believed in
his dreams, and in hope. She was constantly having to keep him
grounded in reality -- their reality, an outrageously dangerous
actuality by anyone’s standards.

They could neither talk nor make love
anywhere inside any of Brickman’s homes, but they’d managed both
and shared an intimacy that she’d never in her life shared with
anyone. She looked at him after he’d gently brushed the hair back
from her face and found herself arrested by the tears rolling down
his cheeks. He was brutish, but he’d never been anything but
careful with her. She was a small woman and could always sense when
big men were extra careful in their handling of her. Ivan had been
like that from the first.

“Can you sit up?” he asked softly.

Ida nodded weakly. “If you’ll adjust the
pillows so I can lean against them, I should be fine.”

He did and after a few minutes of her trying
to bite back her cries of pain, she was sitting up with her back
against a stack of five pillows. He began to feed her the soup.
“How bad is it?”

“Pretty bad,” she reluctantly admitted
between swallows. She could see the rage in his eyes, and while she
was gratified by it, she knew they couldn’t afford it.
I’m going
to be okay, Ivan
, she mouthed and tried a smile.
You’ll
see
.

That’s not the point
, he insisted,
mouthing each word angrily.
I hate the fact that you’re hurt at
all.

I know, sweetie, I know, but we’ll get
through it. You’ll see.

Ivan nodded, but she could tell that the
conversation was not over, that he had determined that they would
be discussing it later. He sighed, fed her another spoonful of soup
and mouthed,
He says we’re going to Keenan’s house in a few
days
.
Says he should be getting some crucial information in
soon that will help us prepare and have surprise on our
side.

Ida frowned, but said nothing. It was a bad
idea, she knew, but there was nothing she could do about it.
Brickman had already made up his mind.

***

ARLINGTON, Virginia

Coop sat at one end of the long mahogany
conference table and from beneath his lashes, studied the other
people in the room. Idiots, all of them, he thought impatiently.
They sat around arguing about the insignificant things while giving
the major events the short shrift. It was infuriating. He looked
over at his boss who looked just as disgusted as he. Ben nodded
slightly and Coop took that as his cue to take over the meeting.
Raising his voice, he spoke loud enough to drown out the petty
squabbling.

“I need to know what you have decided to do
about the new information regarding Alexander Brickman,” he
demanded of the other four people in the room, all of whom ran a
division in the agency.

When the squabbling began again, he
impatiently slapped his hand on the table. “It’s not a difficult
decision to make: either we share the information we have with our
counterparts who have been after the man for years, or we keep it
to ourselves. Pete,” he directed his comments to the DEA
representative, “your agency has wanted him for years. What do you
think? Do we tell your people in Mexico and Chicago where he’s
headed, or not?”

An older, white-haired almost irascible
character, Peter Tam nodded his head. Coop had always liked the
other man. Unlike most people in their world, he didn’t obfuscate
and he made up his mind quickly. “I hate to say this, but I think
we should keep them and the local FBI office in the dark. Yes,
we’ve wanted Brickman for years, but the Guerreras are much bigger
fish and they tortured and murdered a DEA agent. I don’t want to
risk tipping them off about Paragon by going after Brickman. Of
course, I’m sure the FBI wouldn’t agree with me.”

Coop knew that this was exactly why they
hadn’t invited the FBI representative to the meeting. He spoke up,
“No one’s asked me, but I think we should inform the agents in
Chicago and Mexico about Brickman’s impeding arrival to the
Guerrera compound. Keeping secrets from one another has gotten this
country in hot fixes in the past. And I’m going to say that I do
not like the fact that we’ve kept Cam out of this meeting.”

“Yes, it is unfortunate that we’ve so
quickly reverted back to our old ways when this agency was created
expressly to keep mistakes of the past from reoccurring,” Ben put
in. “However, I can see the need to keep the FBI out of this
meeting as I agree that we should keep mum on this new information
regarding Mr. Brickman.”

Coop was not surprised at Ben’s decision as
his primary goal was to keep his agent safe. He wanted Paragon safe
as well, but the difference was he knew she would handle herself if
something flared up and he planned to travel to Mexico himself,
regardless of Ben’s objections. He did not like that they were
keeping this information to themselves; they were all on the same
team after all, and as a former field agent he knew how much this
kind of information would have meant to him on a case he’d been
working on for months, let alone, years.

“I suppose you’re looking at this from the
agent’s perspective, aren’t you, Cooper?”

The question was put snidely and came from
Osborne Howard, a man who Coop had little respect for and whom he’d
always thought of as an officious, whiny, little pissant. He didn’t
bother to answer him, instead addressing his comments to the room
at large. “Are you all agreed that we should not share the
information?”

A chorus of yeses was the response, and Coop
stood. “All right, then I guess we’re done here. He gathered his
folder and pad of paper, and left the room. “Idiots,” he muttered,
“blind, short-sighted idiots.”

“Cooper!”

Coop turned to see Ben hurrying behind him.
He stopped to allow the older man to catch up. “Yes?”

“I know you’re upset because things didn’t
go your way back in there, but do try to see our side of
things.”

“I do, Ben, and it might surprise you to
know that I actually understand your reasons, as they’re logical,
but the bigger issue for me is that we’re not living up to our
creed. As you said yourself, we’ve reverted back to form, and so
quickly and so easily. It bothers me. Never mind the fact that
there’s a woman in Chicago who’s been stalked by him for almost two
years. I know Jack Winthrop, and not only has he been chasing
Brickman for much of his career in law enforcement, but he’s best
friends with this woman’s husband. Do you know how priceless this
information would be to them?”

Ben nodded. “Yes, I know Winthrop as well.
He was a good agent once upon a time. But come now, you must know
it wasn’t an easy decision. We feel it was the best one we could
make under the circumstances.”

“All right,” Coop said. “What’s done is
done. By the way, I’ve put in for my vacation.”

Chapter Eight

The hotel ballroom was packed almost to
capacity Friday night and from her position on the stage, Caroline
smiled as she executed a turn in their dance routine. Her eye
caught sight of a photographer snapping pictures again and she did
her best to maintain the friendliness of the smile. She didn’t have
to like it, but she did have to put up with being photographed for
the special night. There was also a videographer around somewhere.
She would allow neither to temper her joy. They were on the last
song, and she could not wait to get off the stage and into fresh
clothes. For their actual performance, her friends and she wore a
silver flapper mini-dress and every time they performed a dance
move, the dresses came alive and shimmered like waterfalls. The
dress was gorgeous, and went perfect with the silver boots, but
Caroline was dripping with sweat and couldn’t wait to get out of
the thing.

Brian and she had taken a hotel room for the
night for this express purpose, and because she knew she’d be
exhausted at the end of the night and it would just be easier to
stay there. Her parents were sitting front and center and she
looked at them now. They’d been smiling from ear to ear since her
brother, her friends and she had taken the stage. Her mother had
been crying periodically throughout the half hour act, and was
doing so again at that moment.

Caroline blew her a kiss and winked at her.
Taking the microphone in her hand, she belted out the last line of
Jackie Wilson’s “Your Love Keeps Lifting Me Higher”, and then took
hold of her friends’ hands, stepped back in unison from the mike
and took her bows with them. Relieved that the whole thing was
finally over, she exited the stage. Brian had posted himself
offstage during the show, while Jae stayed in front near one of the
entrances to the ballroom. A couple of Brian’s off-duty police
friends were also there, and they covered the other two doors.

“Hey,” she said when she saw him.

“Hey, yourself, pop star,” he said, his eyes
lit with a spark she recognized immediately and quite well.

Keeping a weather eye on him, she took a
quick step back and then slid by him. “Don’t even think about it,”
she warned over her shoulder as she hurried away.