Against the Rules (26 page)

As they neared the double gates, a massive explosion rocked the ground beneath them.

“What the fuck?” Do-Rag asked, instinctively taking his foot off the gas pedal.

“The helicopter hiccupped. Step on it, asshole, or we aren’t making it through those gates,” Teague instructed.

“We can’t crash those unless you got an urge to come face-to-face with your maker. They’re rigged to blow.”

“Give me a break. Why are these guys so blow happy?”

“The idea was to slow down the feds long enough for them to get away through the tunnels.”

“Don’t worry, college boy. I got the code, but you knew that, didn’t ya?”

“Well, Bob, I knew you were good for something.”

Do-Rag nailed the gas and tossed the Hummer into a slide bringing the vehicle along the block wall. Teague used his door for cover as he blanketed the area with bullets, giving the mechanic enough time to punch his code into the security keypad. Once the motors began to whine and doors began to peel back, Teague hopped back inside.

“Floor it, College Boy, it doesn’t take long to type in the override.”

“I’m on it, Bob. No worries.”

The mechanic slapped Teague on the shoulder. “No worries, he says. I ain’t got no money, College Boy. I live here, eat here. What the hell am I supposed to do now? They ain’t gonna welcome me back with open arms, dumb shit, I told you to take the copter.”

“The bird had the hiccups,” Teague informed him. “We got company.”

Two Jeeps were right on their tail, firing as they went. The back glass fractured sending Bob into another tirade.

Sirens could be heard in the distance. Do-Rag drove using the gas pedal as an on-off switch, trying to put some distance between them and the Jeeps. It would be impossible to blend in with traffic considering that the Hummer was shot to hell.

“Should I take this sucker off road and try and lose them that way?”

“Hell no. Those Jeeps have shorter wheel bases making them far more maneuverable and they’re considerably lighter. Stay on the main roads and head for a police station.”

“Police station? Are you whacked? No police station!” Bob was emphatic. “They’re all on the payroll anyway.” He continued to mutter how stupid the idea was.

“He’s got a point,” Do-Rag acknowledged. “We really don’t know who we can trust.”

“Go to the satellite NBIA office in Tucson.”

“I’m already headin’ that way. You know the orders are to lock your ass up and ask questions later.”

“I figured as much.”

“What am I hearin’, College Boy? You’re a fuckin’ fed? I ain’t goin’ to lock-up, College Boy. I saved your ass. Don’t be forgetting that. You just let me off here.” Crazy Bob opened the door as Do-Rag got off the gas to whip around a corner. Only Teague’s arm stopped him from making good on his escape.

“We have a problem. This thing’s temperature gauge is pegged and she’s starting to knock.”

“They must have got the radiator. We’ve got a helicopter buzzing over our heads too. Can you read the markings? I know it isn’t G.’s.”

“It’s the county’s.”

“The Jeeps are backin’ off. What do you think? Do we take a chance?”

“Hell no. Floor this fucker. She ain’t gonna crap out on us,” Bob voiced his opinion.

“Shoot for the satellite office.”

“We’re losing power.” Steam was spewing through the cowl and between the fenders and hood, making it hard to see.

“Civilians!” Teague yelled as two ladies stepped off the sidewalk right into their path.

Do-Rag cranked the wheel, slamming Bob’s head into the door pillar. His curses were now a familiar rant causing both Teague and Do-Rag to chuckle.

A police car sped closely behind them. A loud metal on metal sound rang out.

“What the hell was that? Cops ain’t allowed to shoot at us,” Bob indignantly informed them.

“They’re backing off. What the fuck? Climb back there, Bob. See what that was.”

“Why do I have to do it? I didn’t want any part of this wagon train. You do it.”

“As you wish.” Do-Rag let go of the wheel and turned to climb through the cab.

Both Bob and Teague grabbed for the steering wheel. With his other hand, Teague stuck his pistol in Do-Rag’s face. “Knock that shit off. Get your ass back in that seat.”

Do-Rag was laughing his head off as he hit the gas once more and took control of the wheel.

Bob grumbled the entire time he crawled over the back of the seat complaining about everything. “They stuck a flag on the back of my baby.”

“Get it off,” both Teague and Do-Rag ordered simultaneously.

Bob kicked out the back glass. To get a strong grip on the flag, poor Bob had half his body hanging out of the smashed out window. When he pulled, the flag flew off in his hand. “I got a perty little flag, but the base didn’t come off,” he announced as he swung his head back through the window.

“Use a tire iron,” Teague instructed.

“On my baby? No way!”

“I’m with Bob. I’d much rather be blown into the stratosphere than scratch up the pretty black paint,” Do-Rag replied.

“Do-Rag, you need a woman. All you can think about is being blown.” Teague knew that it was a GPS tracking system the cops were toying with to reduce high speed chases in urban areas.

Bob cackled as he rummaged through the back until he found a crowbar.

“Fuck you!”

“See what I mean, man? Damn, when was the last time you had a woman?”

“At least I know better than to fornicate with the chief’s daughter.”

Do-Rag’s snickering stopped abruptly when Teague’s fist collided with his jaw.

He spat blood out onto the floor and cast Teague a low assessing glance as he maneuvered the Hummer into a parking garage. Even Bob fell silent, a remarkable accomplishment all of its own.

A clunking sound acknowledged that Bob had successfully removed the GPS flag base. “Sorry, College Boy, looks like you won’t get blown today.” Bob took up Teague’s line of ribbing.

“The day ain’t over yet.”

“That one over there. The panel van.” Teague pointed to a mid-eighties, white, nondescript delivery van parked in front of the elevator. “Drive up to the next level and park.”

As Do-Rag drove near it, Teague jumped out. In no time, he had entered the vehicle and hot-wired it. He left it running then headed for the motorcycle he’d spotted on their way in. Once Do-Rag and Bob made it to the satellite office, they’d be safe. Teague just couldn’t take the chance of being locked up. Not even for a short time. Channy needed him and every second might count.

His normal luck had returned. The bike had several theft deterrents that had to be disabled. The giant clock in his brain was about to lose a cog by the time the four cylinder, liquid cooled, overhead cam fired up. He’d watched from a distance as Do-Rag circled the garage in the panel van he’d left for them. He could only assume that Bob was in the back. He did notice that Do-Rag’s eyes were ever diligent—looking for him, the cops or drug dealers he couldn’t be sure. Ditching him was a shitty thing to do, but necessary all the same.

Sirens were loud and stationary telling him that they had the exit blocked. He considered his options as he heard a motor gun it then crashing metal and screeching tires. Do-Rag’s van had hit the ass-end of a patrol car, spinning it into two others. Teague went over the curb and took off in the opposite direction of the highway. Do-Rag was saving his ass again. Teague wondered why…

* * * *

The chief had been listening to reports from Tucson law enforcement for hours. As soon as the explosions and shots fired were reported at the compound, he was immediately notified. Samuel, their agent undercover, had yet to check in. He’d ordered several agents from the local office to ‘assist’ with the investigation. He knew better than to constantly bust the chops of his men. Intellectually, he knew that if there was any word on Chantel they would let him know immediately. It didn’t help. His brain told him to just fly down there and direct the investigation himself, not wait for intel to drift through channels. Yet something stronger kept him here. It was foolish really. Wishful thinking that Chantel would suddenly drive through the gates. Heaven help four-six-two if he let anything happen to her. Death would be the least of his worries.

* * * *

Chantel noticed little crystals amongst the food he had set out for her. She knew, if she didn’t eat, Ed would beat her so she tried to eat around them without him noticing. If she could only lull him into complacency, she would have a chance at survival.

“The monkeys have given up their search for you. They think you ran off. You didn’t fool anyone. We know all about your whoring ways. If your father ever finds Teague, he will make sure he never sees the light of day again. Of course neither will you, so it is a fitting end.”

“My father loves and respects you, Ed. Why are you doing this to him?” She knew he wouldn’t change his course, but every time he spoke of Teague, she went berserk and her heart broke all over again. Sometimes the pain and worry over Teague was too much to bear.

A sharp kick to her ribs stole the breath from her body. Her head was slammed into the concrete floor again and again, sparing her from feeling the rest of the beating.

* * * *

Teague had the route mapped out in his brain. Long ago, he’d hacked into the personnel files and retrieved Donley’s home address. He’d driven past it a dozen times while Channy was staying there. He knew the security and had a plan to bypass it. He was going to have a private chat with the chief and it was not going to involve him and a jail cell. At least not until Channy was safe. Then he couldn’t have cared less.

The ride from Rio Rico to Phoenix even at the rate of speed he was driving was monotonous, broken up by moments of sheer terror when an idiot swerved across multiple lanes on a direct collision course with him. The bike handled well and maintained the high speed with ease.

He couldn’t think about Channy without breaking into a cold sweat, so his mind went over the details he’d discovered while investigating the Weasel. The coincidence was just too crazy. The deaths were all within an hour’s driving distance from Donley’s home address. How could that be? He moved often, as the responsibilities of the job demanded. Each time Donley moved, so did the Weasel. Was Donley the Weasel? He wouldn’t target his own child. Would he? Had Teague sent Channy directly into his clutches?

As if on autopilot, he maneuvered the bike around a photo radar sensor. He obviously wasn’t worried about getting a ticket, but he didn’t need the cops on his ass either. Maybe he should have risked the helicopter. While he was traveling at top speed, it was over roads not as the crow flew. With his stomach in knots, each minute he drove seemed like ten. At this hour the traffic was minimal, allowing his mind to drift into worst case scenario mode. As each possibility played out in his mind, his resolve to get the truth out of Donley strengthened.

* * * *

Chantel was hovering in and out of consciousness as Ed attached the manacles to the pulley and hoisted her into a standing position. The familiar ache in her arms and shoulder blades was barely noticeable after the beating she’d endured.

Ed’s incessant humming stopped, yet she knew he was near. Fear curled in the pit of her stomach. She felt his hand brush against her inner thighs. Every nerve ending went on alert. Terror pushed the pain aside, clearing her brain for a few precious moments.

“It’s come.”

His fanatical tone stood her hair on end.

“The cleansing blood is washing away your sins. Soon you will be ready for training. A few days then…”

Her eyes were nearly swollen shut. Shadows were all she could see. Yet she knew he was stroking himself.

The cage clanked shut and his humming began again. The hatch he used as a doorway scraped against the concrete as he opened then closed it again. Slowly, his humming faded into the distance.

For a few moments, she shook uncontrollably. Tears traveled down her face, onto her breasts and dripped onto her toes. Time was running out. She had already made up her mind. She would force him to kill her before she would submit to him. She prayed for strength to carry out her plan. Death was indeed the least of her worries.

* * * *

Night had fallen again. Teague blended smoothly with the shadows. He’d lived amongst them for so long he felt at home. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept for more than a few minutes’ time. His body was beginning to feel the effects. His hand–eye coordination was definitely suffering. His reflexes were off, too. It didn’t matter. Donley was just a little too sure of himself. His home security was a joke.

Around the side of the house a window was cracked open. Donley apparently didn’t feel the need to arm the system if he was at home. Silly man.

His eyes had long ago adjusted to the dark. Silently, he slid the window wide enough to enter. Channy’s smell hit him first. A lingering hint of her perfume assailed his senses. His knees weakened, but his determination strengthened. The door to the hallway was open, hampering his freedom of movement.

Sounds confirmed that Donley was playing chess with his underling. While waiting, he quietly looked through the few items Channy had acquired since moving into her father’s home. He was reasonably sure that she hadn’t returned since he’d sent her away from the cabin.

Teague heard Donley exchanging pleasantries. A few moments later, the door clicked shut. A soft beep told him that the security system was armed.
A bit too late to keep out this unwanted guest, old man.
Hearing the shuffle of feet draw near, Teague slid under the bed to wait.

The old man paused in the doorway, flicked the light switch on and sat heavily on the bed. “Where is she? What have you done with her?” His voice was tight with emotion.

Chapter Sixteen

Teague stayed silent, hidden somewhat by the shadows. Donley seemed too preoccupied to realize he was there. He quickly scanned the room, assuring himself that everything was in its place.