Lazar's Intrigue (The Jack Lazar Series) (18 page)

Jack
ran to Sarina and provided support under her arm as he helped lead her away from
the building. But the tyrannical craft seemed to instinctively pursue them,
whirling over their heads as they dropped to the ground and prepared themselves
for its crushing blow. But somehow it passed over, and they jumped back to
their feet with the intention of heading to the opposite end of the garage,
hoping the structure would shield them from the explosion that would surely
come.

Again,
the helicopter hurled back toward them, skating over their heads a final time
before crashing into the gas pumps, the instantaneous blast shooting fire and
shrapnel in every direction. The force of it threw them to the ground again,
the heat virtually unbearable, and they desperately crawled the final few feet
around the side of the building just before a deluge of fiery metal soared by.

They
sat next to each other on the filthy ground, their backs leaning against the
building, and they gasped for breath. Soot covered their faces, arms and legs,
their clothes tattered, and sweat from the exhaustive heat flowed down their
faces.

“Fuck!”
Jack said exasperatingly.

“No
kidding,” Sarina agreed as she leaned forward, grabbing her leg in pain. “Goddamn,
this hurts.”

“I’m
sure. We need to do something about it before you lose too much blood. But it
won’t matter at all if we don’t get the hell out of here. This entire gas
station could blow any second.”

Sarina
held up her hand, indicating that she was listening for something. In the
background, beyond the explosions and raging fire, were the sounds of
innumerable sirens, no doubt en route to their location.

“Now
we
really
need to get out of here,” she announced, struggling to her
feet in spite of the pain. “That tow truck over there. Let’s see if the keys
are in it.”

“What?”
Jack asked as they moved toward the truck. “We’re running from the police?”

“Good
God, Jack! That was a police helicopter we just shot down. Or hadn’t you
noticed?”

“A
police helicopter? What the hell is going on?”

They
reached the truck before Sarina could answer, and Jack helped her into the
passenger seat before running around to the driver’s side. He started the
ignition, fully expecting the keys to be there, and slammed the transmission
into gear. He headed straight for the downed gate and tore down the same road
they had used to get there.

Seconds
later the gas station exploded, and Jack looked through the rearview mirror to
see a fiery black cloud shooting into the air. The ground rumbled underneath
the truck as if an earthquake had occurred, and the shock wave from the blast
actually propelled them forward.

Jacked
wiped his hand over his face. “Okay, why in God’s name did we shoot down a
police helicopter?”

“Because
they were shooting at us!”

“Why?”

“I
don’t know why!” She remained silent for a moment. “It was either them or us,
you know. Would you rather be dead right now?”

“Of
course not.” Jack drove the tow truck intently down the narrow road,
maintaining the highest speed possible. “But there has to be an explanation for
all this.”

“It
obviously didn’t take them very long to figure out we’re traveling together,
and now they’re not wasting any time trying to get us out of the way. We’ve
apparently stumbled on to something big.”

“You
mean someone in the DEA wants us killed?” he asked, horrified.

“It
sure looks that way. It also means we can’t use your name, your credit cards or
your cell phone anymore. In fact, you should throw your phone out the window
right now.”

“Well,
fuck.”

Jack
pulled the shiny new smartphone out of his pocket and admired it for a moment
before rolling down the window and tossing it to the side of the road.

Sarina
winced in pain again as they bounced over a pothole. “Dammit, Jack. You need
you to get me to a doctor.”

“The
nearest hospital. I promise.”

“Not
the hospital! Are you crazy?”

“Then
where?”

She
thought for a moment as if debating whether to follow through with the idea floating
in her head. “Look. I know someone. His name is Doctor Charles Kerwin. He owns
a surgical center in West Palm. We need to call him. He’ll keep things quiet.”

They
came upon the stranded Crown Victoria, the rear half of which was still
sticking out into the road. And they both swallowed nervously, expecting the
two assailants to fire on them as they passed by.

“Hold
on,” Jack announced as he pushed the accelerator to the floor. The metal guard
on the front of the truck smashed into the Crown Victoria’s fender, casting it
to the side with a crushing blow.

“Are
they still there?” he asked her. “Did you see them?”

“No,”
she replied, her head turned around to look through the rear window. “I think
they took off. Thank God.”

“No
shit. It’s about time we caught a break.”

“Believe
me,” Sarina responded sharply. “The simple fact that we’re alive right now is a
major break. I don’t know how we managed to get away from that helicopter
without being blown to hell, especially with your driving, but we did. It’s a goddamn
miracle.”

“Will
you stop with the driving critique and concentrate on finding your doctor
friend?”

“Just
get us over to I-95 and head north,” she said as she reached for her burner
phone and dialed 4-1-1. The cell carrier’s voice-recognition software apparently
understood her inquiry on the first try, and she allowed the system to dial the
number for her.

“Charlie?
Hi!” Sarina’s voice was suddenly so pleasant. “It’s me, Sarina... I’m doing
fine, kind of. How about you?” She nodded as she listened to him. “They’re
saying
what
about us? Son of a bitch!”

Jack
wrinkled his brow and looked at her. “What’s going on?”

Sarina
held up her hand as she continued listening. “None of that is true, Charlie,
and I’ll tell you what’s really going on when I have a chance, but I really need
your help right now, not to mention your discretion. I’ve been shot in the leg
and… Yeah, it looks pretty bad.” She turned her head toward Jack. “Yes, I
remember where it is, and we’re headed that way. We should get there in a
little over an hour. And Charlie? Thanks. I know after what happened between us
that I’m the last person in the world you want to see.” A look of appreciation
swept over her face. “You’re a prince. Bye.”

“Sounds
like Charlie’s a good guy,” Jack offered.

“Yes
he is.”

“So
who’s saying what about us?”

Sarina
sighed and closed her eyes, apparently trying to suppress the pain. “Someone
with the police or DEA released a story to the press with pictures and
everything saying we’re armed and dangerous drug dealers shooting up South
Florida.”

“What
the hell?”

“Yeah,
it’s totally fucked up. I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to keep a low
profile until we piece everything together and find out who’s behind it. Until
then we can’t trust anyone on the law enforcement side.”

“Oh,
lovely.”

EIGHTEEN

Jack
and Sarina drove in silence until she pointed at an upcoming exit. “Get off
here and go right.” They went another two blocks before she directed him into
the garage of a medical building across from a large hospital, and they parked
next to a black Lincoln MKZ.

A
tall, slender man with a healthy head of salt-and-pepper hair emerged from the
car, and he had a deep look of concern on his face. The doctor was elegant and
flowing in his movements, and his sharp, seasoned features suggested to Jack
what he might personally look like in twenty years.

Dr.
Charles Kerwin immediately opened the passenger side of the truck and began
examining his patient, ignoring Jack’s presence at first.

“Sarina?
Sarina?” He looked up. “I thought she was conscious.”

“She
was. I was talking to her like two seconds ago.”

Charlie
pressed his fingers against her neck. “Her pulse is weak, but it’s there. We
need to get her upstairs.”

“I’ll
carry her,” Jack insisted. Somehow he just didn’t like the idea of the good doctor
touching her any more than absolutely necessary. “You need to get us into the
building.”

“Fine.”
Charlie backed away while Jack jogged around the truck and gathered Sarina into
his arms. “But let’s get moving.”

The
two men accessed the elevator to the second floor and took Sarina’s limp body
to a surgical room. Jack set her on the table while Charlie pulled the medical
supplies he needed from the cabinets. He returned to wash his hands and slip on
a pair of surgical gloves before turning his attention toward the patient.

“What’s
wrong with your shoulder?” he asked.

“It’s
nothing. A bullet grazed me. It may need stitches, but just concentrate on her
right now.”

“Oh,
don’t worry. I will.” He finished setting up an IV and began sterilizing the
wounded area of her leg. “C’mon, Sarina, you cantankerous little bitch. We all
know you have the strength to pull through this.”

Jack
smiled even though the doctor’s mysterious involvement with Sarina and his
haughty attitude were disconcerting.

“Here,”
Charlie said without looking at him. “Take this bottle of Betadine and clean up
your wound. There are some bandages in the cabinet over there. That’ll move
things along until I can get to it.”

“Thanks,”
Jack replied as he removed his shirt and began complying with the doctor’s
instructions.

“As
soon as you’re done, I suggest you get that tow truck out of the garage.”

“Jesus,
you’re right. I didn’t even think about that.”

“Obviously
not,” the doctor muttered arrogantly. “Anyway, there’s a bathroom at the end of
the hall where you can clean up, and you’ll find a sweatshirt and sweatpants in
my office.” He looked Jack over quickly. “It should fit you. Looks like we’re
about the same size.”

“Thanks
again. We really appreciate your help.”

Charlie
hesitated with the pair of tweezers in his hand and looked at Jack for a moment
with a single eyebrow raised. “No offense, buddy. But if it were not for
Sarina, I wouldn’t be helping you at all, Hippocratic Oath or not. You can
always go to the emergency room and deal with the authorities after they report
the gunshot wound. I couldn’t care less. But this is a very special woman, and
as much as I hate to admit it, I’m still in love with her.”

The
doctor’s little speech produced a pit in Jack’s stomach, and he had to keep
reminding himself that he had no business lamenting over Sarina’s past. After
all, everybody had one.

“I
don't know how to say this diplomatically, Charlie, so I’ll just say it. You
seem like a great guy, and I’m sure Sarina really cared for you when you were
together. But I feel pretty confident that things are different between me and
her.”

“That’s
what I thought, too,” he replied. “That’s probably what every man in her past
has thought. But I tell you, it’s just not in her nature to settle down with
one person, much less to trust someone. She’s a free spirit, Jack. And all I
can suggest is you enjoy the time you have with her as much as possible. Then,
when it’s over, let it be over. Don’t make it hard on yourself. You just have
to appreciate her for who she is. And if you don’t, it’ll just make you
miserable.”

“And
you’ve done this?” Jack asked him.

“No,”
he said, laughing at himself this time. “And I’ve been pretty miserable!”

Jack
laughed with him, but it was still disheartening to realize that the good
doctor was probably right. “I'll take care of the truck and be back in a few
minutes,” he said somberly.

“Take
the security card over there. You’ll need it to get back into the building.”

“Right.”

Jack
cleansed himself quickly before dressing in Charlie’s Nike sweats and running
shoes. Everything fit perfectly, which gave him even more reason to feel
obscure as far as Sarina was concerned. Was he simply part of some twisted
pattern in her life?

Darkness
had arrived by the time he emerged from the garage in the stolen tow truck, and
he celebrated the added camouflage it gave him. He drove around for about
fifteen minutes while he looked for an inconspicuous place to leave the thing,
knowing it was likely to attract attention no matter where he left it. He
finally decided to stash it in the parking garage of another hospital about two
miles away, hoping it would cause the authorities to investigate the patients
who had been admitted there.

Despite
the blood he had lost from the wound on his arm, the run back to Charlie’s
office felt good and allowed him to work off much of the tension and emotional
turbulence he had experienced. Within twenty minutes he arrived back at the
surgery center, and he used the security card to gain access inside.

Charlie
was just finishing the last of Sarina’s stitches.

“How’s
the patient?”

“She’ll
be fine,” Charlie replied, cutting off the last strand. “She just needs to rest
for a few days.”

“Where
did you get the blood?” Jack asked, noticing the bag hanging above her.

“I
have a good friend who works at the blood bank. She stopped by while you were
gone. I called her on my way over here.”

“Can
you trust her?”

“Not
that I have a choice, but yes, I think so. She’s getting a free trip to Turks
& Caicos out of this, so she better keep her mouth shut.”

“These
women,” Jack mused, shaking his head.

“Makes
you wonder, doesn’t it? Now, let’s take a look at your arm.”

Jack
pulled the sweat top over his head and hung it on a wall hook. He sat on the
doctor’s stool while Charlie pulled off the bandage and tended to the injury.

“Wow.
You keep in shape, don’t you?” Charlie asked.

“I
try.”

“Do
you lift weights?”

“Three
or four times a week. At least when Sarina’s not leading me on a wild goose
chase.”

They
both chuckled.

“Look,
I’m sorry about what I said to you before,” Charlie offered sincerely. “I
always get a little brusque when I’m operating. I guess it’s just the stress of
knowing I have somebody’s life in my hands. And when it’s someone like her,
well…”

“I
understand. But you’re probably right about her.”

“I
don’t know. Maybe I’m just trying to find a way to rationalize why she didn’t
stay with me. I shouldn’t be projecting my situation on you.”

“I
appreciate your saying that, Charlie, but the more I’ve thought about it, the
more it seems like you’ve got her psychological profile pretty well figured
out. I guess I intuitively knew about it myself, but I just didn’t want to
believe it.”

Charlie
smiled as he slapped Jack on the opposite shoulder. “You’ll be okay. I don’t
even think it needs stitches. It’ll be yucky for a few days, and you’ll need to
diligently keep it clean, but it should heal just fine. May leave a scar, but
that’s life.”

“Yeah,”
Jack agreed, nodding.

“Say,
I’ve got a couple of Stellas in the fridge. You want one?”

“Actually,
that sounds great. Please.”

“After
all, the best we can do right now is to keep an eye on her and wait for her to
wake up.” Charlie walked down the hall and procured the bottles from the
refrigerator. Jack could hear him using an opener to pop off the caps.

“Shouldn’t
take too long,” Charlie said as he returned and handed Jack one of the bottles,
“but you never know.”

“I
guess not. Thanks.” Jack downed a healthy swig. “Jesus, that’s good.” He smiled
appreciatively. “It’s amazing how great a really cold beer can taste
sometimes.”

“It
sure is. Amazing indeed.”