Love On the Run Read online

  The laughter echoed again in the vault as Jared and Cassi desperately tried to cut more wires.

  * * *

  FRED FOUGHT DIZZINESS, STRUGGLING TO peer over the car and fire so they wouldn’t suspect he was wounded and come after him. He managed to let off a few bullets, but knew they served as a temporary fix. His training told him to back off and await reinforcements, but he couldn’t leave Sampson.

  The engine in the van abruptly roared to life, and he watched in amazement as the vehicle peeled out of its parking place. Bracing himself against the pain, he arose enough to shoot again at the two men. They fell instantly. Fred heard a window open in an apartment overhead and caught sight of a terrified face. “Call the police!” he screamed, not knowing if they would understand English. The window slammed shut.

  Fred staggered to his feet, somehow finding the strength. As he knelt by the guards to check their pulses and remove their weapons, the white van came barreling back up the street, followed closely by Alberto’s car.

  “Did you get help?” Fred asked Alberto.

  “No, I came back for you . . . and the boy. You are hurt. Let me put on a bandage. I have a kit somewhere.”

  Sampson jumped out of the van. In his arms, he carried a box of gas masks. Fred looked at them and understood the significance at once. What was going on inside the building? Was he already too late to save Jared and Cassi? What about Brooke?

  “That was a darn foolish thing you did,” Fred said to Sampson.

  “I saved you, didn’t I?” Sampson’s reply was cocky, though his face was haunted.

  “Look, I have to go in.” Fred grimaced as Alberto wrapped his right shoulder. He wasn’t sure what hurt worse, the barely healing wound in his upper arm or the new one on his shoulder. At least they were on the same side. He couldn’t shoot quite as well with his left hand, but fair enough. Better than Taggart, he thought.

  “You guys go get help.”

  Alberto and Sampson both shook their heads. In determination, Alberto picked up one of the guns. “I know how to shoot.”

  There wasn’t time to argue. “Okay, but stay back.” Fred glared at Sampson. “Especially you. Bring the masks.”

  To his surprise, the door to the building was unlocked. Fred peered cautiously inside. He saw nothing but the inert form of a small, dark man sprawled on a ceramic tile floor. With steady steps he entered the room, crossing it. He sensed Alberto following him. There was another door in the far wall, but it was shut. Fred was pleased when the knob moved under his hand. Slowly, he eased open the door.

  “One minute,” said a voice inside the room. A woman’s voice, low and full and promising. “Then poison gas will be released inside the vault, permanently incapacitating the occupants. Sixty seconds after it begins you may go inside wearing your masks. After entry, you will have five minutes to empty the vault, and then a different gas will begin leaking throughout the rest of this building. In ten minutes, the level will build up enough to penetrate this room and, shortly, every pore of your body. Even with a gas mask, you will not be safe. You must leave before then if you want to live to enjoy your treasure.”

  Through the crack in the door, Fred could see a body on the ground. Although he couldn’t be sure, he thought it was Giorgio Donelli. But where were the others? Where was Taggart?

  As he thought the name, a dark shape hurtled toward the door, and Fred was knocked to the tile. Taggart was on him immediately, bringing up his gun. Fred grunted with renewed pain and jabbed his own gun in the man’s face. “Hold it!” he growled.

  Alberto also put the nuzzle of his borrowed gun next to Taggart’s cheek. “Even I cannot miss at this range.”

  Taggart blinked in surprise. His gun lowered and he gave a rough chuckle. “Hey, it’s you. FBI. I didn’t know. I’m FBI too. I thought—”

  Fred shoved the man off with his sore arm, feeling a gush of blood under his new bandage. “Save it,” he ordered. There had been no mistaking the murder in Taggart’s eyes. The belated recognition wasn’t going to save him.

  “They only have a minute left,” Taggart rushed on. “I can’t find a way inside the vault.”

  “Are Cassi and Jared inside?” Sampson asked.

  Taggart nodded.

  Fred wasted precious seconds cuffing Taggart’s hand and feet, as the man continually professed his innocence. “Too little too late,” Fred said. “Alberto, if he makes a move, shoot him. Preferably in the heart, if he has one.”

  “You won’t make it without me,” Taggart said. “They’re all going to die.”

  Fred debated. “Bring him just in case, Alberto. But keep a close eye on him.” He turned into the large room with its dimly lit interior and ran to the shiny doors of the vault. He punched a few buttons on the pad beneath a square black plate.

  “Jared, do you hear me?” he yelled. No answer, but he thought he heard scraping noises.

  “Ten seconds,” said a sultry voice. “Nine, eight . . .”

  In desperation, Fred raised his gun and shot at the plate. It shattered. He shot again, and the door mechanism gave a groan and released. Fred pulled at the steering wheel handle. A sword poked out first, followed by Jared and Cassi.

  “. . . six, five . . .”

  “Fred!” Jared said. “Good timing.”

  “Where’s Brooke?” Fred asked.

  “Who?”

  “The woman who looks like Laranda.”

  Cassi gasped and glanced back into the vault. That told Fred all he needed to know. “The masks,” he grunted, and plunged inside. He found Brooke easily enough. She was lying on the marble floor in the vault, moving slightly as though trying to wake from a deep sleep. He swept her into his arms.

  “. . . two, one . . .”

  He dived for the entrance, his right shoulder slamming into the edge of the solid door. Pain exploded through his body, but he kept his footing. Then Brooke was lifted from his arms and a gas mask shoved on his face. Behind him, Jared was slamming the vault shut, but it wouldn’t latch. Clouds of fumes escaped from the edges.

  “Get back,” Fred heard himself say. He had no idea how deadly the gas was, but knowing Laranda and seeing her work with Holbrooke, he wasn’t taking any chances.

  The others needed no warning. They already wore masks, and Cassi and Sampson were dragging Brooke back from the vault, holding another mask over her face. Fred stepped away from the door, felt his legs buckle. Jared caught him and helped him join the others.

  “Is this a safe distance?” asked Cassi, her voice muffled by her mask.

  “It should be . . . with the masks.”

  They waited for a minute that seemed an eternity. Then a terrible voice broke the silence. “Well, now that wasn’t too long. I am vindicated. Jared Landine and his precious wife are dead.” Laughter permeated the room as the gas had done moments before. “Now remember, you have five minutes until I release the other gas, ten before you have to be out. When you go into the vault, use your mask just in case the gas hasn’t cleared enough. Oh, and thank you. It was so nice doing business with you.”

  “She’s still going through with it,” Jared said, his voice muffled by the mask. “Of course she would.”

  “What’s going on?” Fred asked.

  “She’s going to kill everyone in the building with another gas,” Jared said. “We can stop people from entering the building, but there are bound to be some people inside right now who will be affected. And from the way the recording sounded, I think it lingers around for a good while. We have to stop it.”

  Fred looked at Alberto. “Go try to get everyone out of the building. Quickly!”

  “What about him?” Alberto pointed to Taggart, who sat on the floor with his tied hands holding a gas mask to his face.

  “I’ll take care of him.” Cassi took Alberto’s gun and pointed it at Taggart. “Move,” she said to him. “You don’t know how much I want to shoot you.” Knowing Cassi as he did, Fred doubted she wanted to kill the man, but her act was certainly
convincing. Taggart was secure in her hands.

  “Any ideas?” Fred asked Jared.

  He nodded. “The electricity. If we shut it off, it’ll have to stop. It’s all computerized. We have to find the wires. I know—the breaker! We have to find the breaker.”

  They separated, searching for the box. Fred glanced at Brooke’s still figure, praying they would find it in time.

  * * *

  BROOKE HAD JUST STARTED TO wake when a man took her in his arms. He seemed comfortable and familiar, so she didn’t struggle. At least it wasn’t Giorgio. But he was dead. Or was he? Had she killed him? Her memory was fuzzy, but she distinctly remembered shooting at him.

  Two others took her from the man and placed a mask on her face. They half-carried, half-dragged her across the floor. She vaguely recalled the gas masks. My plan is working, she thought, lapsing into a moment of triumph.

  But was it? Looking around, she saw Jared alive and well, and Cassi too. The man who had carried her, and another man she didn’t recognize, were also present and free. And a boy— Sampson, she remembered. They had wanted him dead. Why? Oh yes, he was Big Tommy’s son. I must get rid of him. The thought repelled her; he was only a child.

  The one man in the room not free was Taggart, whose hands and ankles were tied. She watched from the corner of her eye as Cassi took a gun from the man Brooke didn’t recognize and pointed it at Taggart. That wasn’t right. It should be Cassi under the gun, not Taggart. And Jared should belong to Laranda. Shouldn’t he? Trying to think was like trying to walk through a thick fog. For once, she wished the doctor was here to give her an injection. The presence she had buried deep in her mind was struggling to get out.

  I am in control. She took a deep breath.

  The boy holding Brooke’s mask fastened the straps around her head. “I’m going to help them find the box,” he said. “Don’t take this off yet.”

  What box? Brooke thought. Then she remembered the safe inside the vault, and the numbers the woman on the video had taught her. I’m the woman on the video.

  Are you?

  That last came from the presence she thought she had vanquished. Shut up! I won’t listen. I have to get to my safe.

  Brooke sat up, the mask still in place on her face. She inched away from Cassi, whose side was toward her. Taggart’s eyes met Brooke’s, but he didn’t give her away. Instead, he threw his gas mask at Cassi with his cuffed hands and began to move across the floor in the opposition direction, toward the outer apartment and the street.

  “Stop!” Cassi said, kicking at the mask as it flew toward her.

  “Shoot me, beautiful,” he challenged.

  Cassi put her foot on his chest and pushed him roughly to the carpet. “Unless you know where the box is, sit still and keep quiet.”

  Under this distraction, Brooke had moved farther away, closer to the vault. She rose shakily to her feet. The man who had carried her from the vault was checking a wooden panel built into the white wall. Jared and Sampson were nowhere to be seen. Were they in the vault? Brooke forced her unsteady legs to go faster.

  She caught sight of Giorgio sprawled on the ground. I killed him, she thought.

  No, said the other voice. Taggart killed him.

  That much was true, Brooke remembered. She had tried to shoot Giorgio, but for some reason her hand kept jerking at the last moment.

  I did that, said the voice.

  Go away! thought Brooke. I’m in charge.

  The voice silenced. Brooke entered the vault, relieved to see no one inside. Jared and the boy must be checking the outer apartment for the box. Strange, when he knew the safe was in here.

  Opening the safe took more time than expected. Her hands rebelled at the precise movements. Like they had when she’d tried to kill Giorgio? At last she got it open. There was a small semiautomatic pistol inside. Brooke was sure she should have known the make and size since she had put it there, but those details escaped her now.

  It didn’t matter. What mattered was to stop Jared. To teach him a lesson. He should never have refused me.

  Brooke walked slowly out of the vault. Jared was in the big room now with Sampson, helping the other man check out more wooden panels spaced at intervals along the walls. Inside them, she glimpsed video and sound equipment.

  “One minute,” said a voice. Her voice. It was soft and seductive, but filled every part of the room.

  Brooke smiled. She took aim at Jared and fired. At the last minute her hand wobbled, sending the shot wide.

  “Brooke, stop!” shouted the man who had carried her from the vault earlier.

  Brooke turned the gun in his direction. He had a gun in a holster under his arm, but she saw with satisfaction that he didn’t draw it. He was a man and therefore weak. He seemed familiar, though. Perhaps she had known him before the accident.

  “Brooke, put the gun down.” He removed his face mask. Nothing happened, and she assumed the gas from the vault must have dissipated to nontoxic levels.

  She pulled off her own mask. “Don’t call me that.”

  “That’s your name.”

  “I’m Laranda.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re Brooke Erickson. I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but I know who you really are. You used to work for a paper in Salt Lake City. Lately, you’ve been writing freelance articles for the San Diego Union-Tribune. And when you disappeared, I did some checking. I found your family in Indiana. They’re worried about you.”

  “No. I don’t know who Brooke is.”

  He took a step toward her. She kept the gun pointed at his chest.

  “Fred,” Jared said. “Be careful. I think they’ve hypnotized her and given her drugs. Look at her eyes.”

  Fred. That was the man’s name. Thinking it made Brooke’s heart feel warm. He was a good man. He had been nice to her. She wanted him to ask her out.

  With a gasp, Brooke backed away, swinging her gun toward Jared. “Don’t move, Fred, or I’ll shoot him. I shot Giorgio, you know. I’m not afraid to shoot Jared. This is all his fault. He wouldn’t love me.”

  “Love you?” Jared said. “Laranda never wanted love, she wanted my soul. She wanted to destroy me. But you aren’t Laranda.”

  “I am!” Brooke’s finger tightened on the trigger.

  “Thirty seconds,” announced the seductive voice.

  Brooke’s heart began beating wildly. She didn’t know what would happen in thirty seconds, but she knew it wasn’t safe to be there without her mask. She had to leave.

  “He’s telling the truth.” Fred’s voice came clearly through the fog in Brooke’s brain. “Come on, Brooke. Put down the gun.”

  “No.” She tried to pull the trigger, but staring into Jared’s eyes above his mask, she found she couldn’t. He had been nothing but kind and honest with her. She knew what Laranda had seen in him.

  I’m Laranda, she reminded herself.

  “Brooke,” Fred pleaded.

  “The real Laranda would love to see you torn this way, Brooke,” Jared said. “She would love to see you destroy all of us because that means she would win. Please, don’t let that happen. Please let us stop her before she poisons more innocent people.”

  Brooke fought an inner battle. The scene of Giorgio hitting the small man who had opened the door to them flashed into her mind. And another of the way Giorgio had treated her.

  “I found it!” Cassi’s voice cut into Brooke’s thoughts. “It’s right here behind the door. In just a minute, I’ll have the electricity off.”

  At that moment, Brooke’s desperation had a focus. She swivelled toward Cassi, who held the gun over Taggart with one hand while furiously flipping switches in a metal box with the other. The lights began to blink out.

  She’s ruining everything! Yes, it was Cassi all along, not Jared who was the problem. Without her, he will turn to me. This time there will be no last-minute wavering. She carefully locked the annoying inner voice deep in her mind.

  Both Jared and Fred dived
toward her. Jared reached her first. Before she could pull the trigger, she felt the prick of a needle in her arm, and her body relaxed. Someone caught her as she fell.

  “I used the ring you gave me,” she heard Jared say.

  It was Fred who cradled her body in his strong arms. She felt safe and protected. “Sleep, Brooke,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

  Brooke closed her eyes.

  * * *

  CASSI HAD FELT HELPLESS WHEN she heard the shot and seen Brooke with the gun, but she dared not leave Taggart. She had caught him several times inching toward the door, and she couldn’t let him free to call Donelli for backup.

  “You’ve got to let me out of here,” he insisted.

  “No,” Cassi told him. She noticed that he had stopped calling her beautiful. “We have to stop the gas. Those are innocent people.”

  “Who cares about them?”

  “I do.” She looked away in disgust.

  Brooke had paused now and appeared to be listening to Fred. They knew each other. Maybe he could reach her. But then the gun had turned toward Jared, and Cassi’s heart felt cold. Would she lose Jared now?

  No!

  She stepped away from Taggart, heading toward Brooke from behind.

  “Wait!” Taggart said. “Look, there it is.”

  Cassi spied the breaker box behind the open door leading into the small outer apartment. She called to Jared and Fred, grateful to see Brooke’s attention diverted.

  Dragging Taggart with her, she quickly began to shut off the switches by the handful. The lights went out, plunging them into darkness. She heard Taggart moving and shoved her foot at him, forcing him to be still. “Don’t tempt me.”

  “I’m on your side,” Taggart said. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  Cassi ignored him.

  “Are you all right?” Jared appeared next to her. He had taken off his mask.

  “Yes, and you?”

  “Fine.”

  “Brooke?”