A Cloak of Lies Ch. 14

Camille dared not look at the result as she gently eased the hammer back down on her gun. Her stomach was having a hard enough time reconciling the situation. She turned away, averting her eyes while Niko wiped blood and gore from the butt of his rifle. When he was finished, he gave her arm a reassuring squeeze and pulled her along behind him.

They approached the edge of the clearing with great caution, each surveying the area while keeping low behind the undergrowth.

"This is where it gets tricky," Niko whispered. He gave her a long, hard look before glancing at the cabin. "We have to move quick. I don't suppose there's any way you'll wait here?"

"Hah! Besides, I'm faster than you and you know it."

The face he turned back was grinning. There was fire in his eyes, enough to heat her to the core.

"Stay with me," he said. "Stay low and do exactly what I do."

She gave him a curt nod. "Ready."

Before they could make a dash from the cover of the forest to the cabin, there was a flurry of gunfire, followed by a bellow of rage. The voice could only belong to Brick, a sound loud enough to shake the entire forest.

"Nothos," Niko hissed at the unseen attackers. He turned to Camille, giving her a grim expression that chilled her to the bone. "This is going to get a whole lot bloodier. Stay close to me."

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she followed him, keeping near-silent pace across the rocky ground between the trees and the cabin. She found it difficult to run bent over with her head low, but still she managed to keep up.

It wasn't until they plastered their backs against the back wall of the building that they heard sounds from inside. Through the shuttered window they could hear the sound of fist on flesh and the grunts of the victim. The voices were angry but muffled. It was impossible to tell what was being said, but it was certain they wanted answers.

"Christ," Niko hissed.

"What are we going to do?" Camille asked. "They're going to kill him. And what about Lorette?"

"You can't kill someone like him." Niko spied through a chink in the wood shutter, sizing up the situation. "I don't see her," he said. "Oleander's in there. He's got three guys working Brick over."

"Why won't he leave us alone?" Camille's whisper was broken and shaking. "It's never going to end. I just want my life back. I want peace."

"Me too, agapi mou." He ran the knuckles of one hand down her cheek, bringing her eyes up to meet his. "We have to end this, Camille. Do you know what I'm saying?"

She nodded, her heart turning cold. "Take no prisoners."

"Oleander still wants that fucking box. I say we give it to him."

"You mean that thing you showed me on the ship? I thought you said you were going to throw it overboard."

His face split with a grin that was anything but warm. The light in his eyes was sinister, giving her cause to shudder and feel the need to celebrate that he was on her side.

"Stay here," he said. "I mean it, love. Stay here and don't move. I'll be right back."

She saw him dash across the clearing to the tent they had been sharing. He disappeared inside, making the walls shake as he rummaged for God-knew-what. When he emerged again, it was to run for the edge of the woods with a small pack in his hand. Camille could only speculate about what he was scratching from the dirt. When he was done, he put whatever it was onto a tree stump. It looked as if he was building something—or taking it apart.

Beads of sweat on her forehead turned to tiny rivulets, streaming down her face as anxiety mounted. She wished he would hurry. He was only partially hidden by brush, leaving him exposed to whoever might decide to take a shot at him. The whole business was making her a nervous wreck.

***

The sounds from the room above were terrible. As frightening as the old wolf was, Lorette stayed close to him. He seemed to take a protective stance in front of her with the fur on his back standing up in a most threatening manner. His low growls were enough to make her quake.

Even scarier was the gun she cradled against her chest. It was cold in her hands, matching the fear that ran so freely in her veins. Tears flowed down her face to splash on the blue steel. More than once she thought of putting the end of the barrel in her mouth. Only the pained grunts of Brick above caused her to hesitate. She had the feeling if he heard the report of a gunshot, he would give up.

He couldn't give up. She wouldn't let him. The man had done so much for her, had saved her when she thought she would never survive. He insisted on helping to find her father and rescue him, and with a bullet lodged so close to his heart. Even though she could understand why others feared him, he had only been kind and thoughtful to her. There was a kind of gentleness in him that he worked hard to hide, but she saw it clear as day. She could feel his pain, his loneliness. It was a reflection of her own emptiness.

This was a man who could fill that void in her soul, a man who she trusted, and he was suffering to protect her. She had to do something—anything—to stop what they were doing to him up there.

The ugly old wolf hobbled as he paced under the trap door, raising his muzzle to sniff the air. He wanted to get up there, that much was certain. If only she could figure out how to get him out. Striking a match, she lit the lantern and raised it to illuminate the damp crawlspace.

In one corner was a pile of old wooden crates. When she started to move toward them, the wolf let out another low growl.

"It's okay," she whispered, her voice soft. "I won't hurt you. I'm trying to help."

The animal seemed mollified, went back to pacing under the door. Each time Brick let out another grunt or a voice of one of his tormentors spoke, the wolf raised his head again.

Lorette could only hope the men above were too busy to hear the noise she was making as she pushed a crate across the dirt floor. It was hard work. The box was heavy and she had to position it while on her knees. She moved a second one in place before putting out the lamp again.

Rafe had already perched himself on one crate by the time she climbed on the other. Saying a quick prayer to whatever saint might be listening, she lifted the door a mere two inches to peek at the world above. What she saw had her biting her lower lip to maintain silence.

Bloodied and defiant, Brick was shackled and tied to the heavy wood chair in which he sat. Three men pounded on him while he glowered at them with pure hatred. Oleander was there, standing out of range of the splattering blood, asking questions in between punches.

The only sounds coming from Brick were grunts and the occasional seething growl. Lorette knew he'd die before saying anything. She had to do something. Lowering the trap door, she went in search of the gun he'd given her. She found it lying next to the lamp after igniting a match. She singed her finger before making it back to the trap door and dropping the match.

"Okay, boy," she whispered. "Time to help your master. You up to it?"

The wolf growled low in his throat, dropping his head in warning. Lorette lifted the door just in time to see the butt of a rifle collide with Brick's skull. A man stepped between her and Brick, his back to the cellar door. She lifted the door higher, rising to her feet on top of the crate. She hoped she was doing the right thing.

Raising the gun, she pointed it at the broad back in front of her. It took all her strength to pull the hammer back. With a deep breath and a silent prayer, she squeezed her eyes shut and yanked back on the trigger.

The report was deafening, still ringing in her ears when she landed on her backside in the dirt below. There was shouting above as the door flew back against the cabinet. Rafe, with a strength that contradicted his handicap, bounded through the opening, neatly ripping out the throat of the first man to reach the cellar opening. The man's twitching body rolled forward through the opening. It landed on the dirt in front of Lorette, wrenching a scream from her frozen lips.

***

It was hard to imagine a gunshot could startle her at this point, but Camille hit the dirt when a weapon was fired inside the cabin. A second later, she heard Lorette scream, followed by another gunshot, and then another. There was another sound, a pained yelp that could only be the cry of a wounded animal. Brick's voice followed, giving a ferocious howl that would rival the fury of an enraged grizzly.

All this took place in the matter of moments, allowing little time to interpret the actions inside the cabin. Niko had heard, too. He ran across the open yard to pull Camille back to her feet. She could see her panic reflected in his eyes.

A fourth shot split the air inside, echoing out through the chinks in the log walls. It was followed by the sound of splintering furniture and Brick's feral howl. Someone was dying hard in there.

"Let's go," Niko whispered. He took off around the far side of the cabin, heading toward the front with Camille in tow. He stopped just short of rounding the corner, motioning her back against the wall.

"Now what?" she asked.

He handed her a small object. "Stay back and wait." When she started to protest, he held up his hand. "Just do as I say, baby. I need you here. I'm going to see if I can lure Oleander out to the stump. Once he's within three feet of it, I want you to hit the button on the remote."

She stared at the object in her hand. "Is it a bomb?"

"Yeah, so you have to stay back. There's enough explosive to send us all to hell and back. Stay behind the cabin and wait for him to get close to it. Understand?"

"Y-yes, but what are you going to do?"

"I'll see if I can help Lorette and Brick."

"You'll get yourself killed."

He pressed his fingers to her cheek, staring into the depths of her eyes. "Not on you life, agapi. I just got you back. There's no way I'm leaving you again."

He placed a tender, quick kiss on her lips before he disappeared around the corner of the building. She took a deep, steadying breath before peeking around the corner.

"Oleander!" Niko yelled. He stood behind one of the posts of the front porch. "Get your sorry ass out here. There's something you want and I have it."

Camille heard the shuffle of feet and muffled voices. "Bring it in," a voice called out. "We'll let your friends go."

"Come out and get it. All we want is to be left alone."

"Throw down your weapon then," the voice said. "Step out where we can see you."

He tossed his rifle away, stepped out from behind the pillar. It seemed to Camille she could scarcely breathe. In her left hand she held the detonating device. In her right, she clutched the revolver so hard her fingers began to ache. What was he doing?

Raising his hands slowly, Niko walked out to the center of the clearing. "It's over there," he said, indicating the tree stump at the edge of the woods.

Someone stepped through the door onto the planks of the porch. A cold chill ran the length of Camille's spine when she recognized Oleander. His was the face of pure evil without so much as an inkling of empathy.

"Retrieve my hard drive," Oleander said over his shoulder. A man walked out and past Niko, smirking as he went.

"Take it and go," Niko said to Oleander. "Leave us in peace."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Pavli. You've caused me far too much trouble. Your transgressions cannot go unanswered. You must pay."

"You're not God, Oleander."

"Perhaps not, but I do hold the power of life and death over you and your lovely wife. It's such a shame that she and your two friends will have to pay the price for your arrogance. Where is that sweet lady of yours, anyway?"

Nothing was going as Camille had envisioned. Of course Oleander wasn't going to get his hands dirty and retrieve the thing himself. Niko stood before him like a sacrificial lamb. They were all doomed—and if that was true, she'd be damned if Oleander and his minions got to walk away unscathed.

"I'm right here," she said as she stepped around the corner. With the revolver leveled directly at his chest, she stopped a mere ten feet away.

"My dear, you're looking a bit worse for wear. What have you been up to?"

"Dodging your bullets, Oleander. Not very nice of you."

"Yes, well, we all do as we must. Why don't you put down that nasty gun before someone gets hurt."

From the corner of her eye, she could see the expression on Niko's face. He was mad as a hornet. If they survived this, she would here about it for weeks. "I can't do that just now. Kindly tell your bad guys to put down their weapons and leave."

The crazed man who would be dictator of the world began to laugh. It was apparent he was thoroughly amused. "You truly are precious," he said. "Mr. Pavli, I believe you have no idea what a find you have in this woman."

"I know exactly what I have and how lucky I am to have her," Niko said.

Camille smiled lovingly at her husband. "I love you too, honey. Now, Oleander, I don't wish to be rude, but I'm going to have to insist."

"Ah, my dear, I've no intention of leaving just yet. Gerard, bring her out."

A shivering, nearly mindless Lorette was brought through the cabin door. The man named Gerard had his arm around her throat and a gun to her head. Camille looked back toward the inside of the cabin.

"Don't worry. Your brutish friend still breathes, though I cannot imagine why. There's so very little left of him. You can have a look for yourself, if you like. Thomas is standing guard over him."

"I'm fine right where I am."

"Be reasonable. You'll not win this. Lay down your weapon or your friends will start dying, starting with this simple creature."

Glancing past Niko, she saw Oleander's man stop in front of the stump. He carefully inspected the item lying on top as if it would jump up and bite him.

"Better to die like this than to drag it out," Camille said. "And if we die, we take all of you with us. That means a whole lot less trouble for everyone else."

She held the remote up, placing her thumb on the ominous red button. Oleander's controlled exterior finally cracked. He was at least sane enough to show a smidgen of fear.

"Niko?"

"Yes, Camille?"

"Is there really enough explosives over there to blow us all to hell and back?"

"Yes, agapi."

Taking a shaky breath, she faced Oleander with what she hoped was her most pleasing smile. "See you there, Oleander."

The next second and a half caught in her mind as if captured by a slow-motion camera. Niko dove forward toward the building as Oleander turned to run. Gerard and Lorette hit the floor of the porch under Niko's weight as Camille mashed down on the remote button. Oleander went down on top of them, tripping over the falling bodies as the entire mountain shook from the force of the explosion. Camille flew backward, landing several feet away from the cabin to have the wind knocked from her lungs. Something landed on her chest.

The percussion of detonation seemed to roll on forever, ringing in her ears as debris rained down on her. She covered her head instinctively, but couldn't seem to get her bearings. As the smoke cleared, she realized the explosion had ended. It was her own ears that still rang.

The thing on her chest was a shoe. Only after lifting it did she realize it still housed the ill-fated owner's foot. With a scream, she tossed it away. Her hand fell on something cold and hard. Her gun?

She fell twice while trying to climb to her feet. The ringing in her ears was ebbing, her rattled brain clearing in bits. She heard a gunshot, saw a man fall a mere two yards in front of her. Looking past him she saw Niko. He was still alive—covered in dirt and blood, but alive.

She stumbled toward him and the splintered remains of the front porch. He was alive! And he was smiling at her. As she took the third step, there was a flurry of movement behind him.

Like a phoenix from the flame, Oleander rose from the wreckage. His left eye was gone. Blood poured from his face unheeded as he raised a gun and pointed it at Niko's back.

She screamed his name, her feet taking on new life as she broke into a run and raised her revolver. Then there was a blast that made her scream again and Oleander went down, nearly cut in two. Behind him stood Brick, his face and body battered and bloodied. He spat on the prone gore, threw down the large gun he carried and fixed Niko with a vicious glower.

"Pavli, what the hell did you do to my house? I hope you know you're going to rebuild every stick of it."

Then he turned and snatched Lorette from the rubble, carrying her away from the scene of death and destruction. Camille watched in amazement when the big man set her friend down and kissed her with fiery passion. It was a strange thought to have at such a moment, but she didn't think the man had it in him.

"Answer me!" Niko had a hold of her arms, shaking her roughly.

"What?" she yelled back.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. Maybe, if you'll stop shaking me." she yelled again.

"Why are you hollering?"

"What? I can't hear you over the ringing in my ears."

Niko grinned at her, pulling her close and crushing the air from her lungs.

***

On the other side of camp, a similar scene played out between Brick and Lorette. Niko's body had shielded her from most of the blast but something had left a gash on her right temple. Niko had clubbed the man under her with a chunk of wood to immobilize him. That was before the other man had come running from the cabin and Niko had gone after him. Inside the cabin was the sound of a terrible struggle.

She fought to clear her mind as she was carried across the yard. It registered somewhere the person packing her around was Brick. He had a bad limp, but showed no sign of slowing. Everywhere she looked was total devastation.

"You're safe, Angel."

Looking up into his battered visage, she noticed how bad the damage was. "Put me down, Marion. You're hurt."

"I'm fine. Let's worry about you." His pace didn't slow as he headed for the trees.

"I mean it. Let me go."

At first it seemed as if his feelings were hurt. He set her on her feet, his big hands wrapped around her arms. "No. Never. Pavli said I could keep any treasure I wanted to carry from the island. You're it."

"I'm not a trinket to be set on a shelf, Marion. I'm a living, breathing woman with a woman's needs."

"You don't think I know that? Since the moment I laid eyes on you, all I wanted to do was hold you and keep you safe."

"Is that what you think of me, some pitiful creature who needs your protection? I don't want to be protected. I want to be loved."

"I love you, damn it."

With those impassioned words, he pulled her close. He gave no warning before his head bent low. His powerful arms lifted her until her feet no longer touched the ground. Then his mouth landed on hers, stealing her breath and her ability to think. She tasted his blood, felt the heat of his flesh and wanted more. No one had ever kissed her in such a manner.

When he set her down again, she would have stumbled back if not for the grip he still had on her arms. He was looking at her hard, searching for something.

"Marion..." The word fell from her swollen lips like gentle sigh.

"You don't have to say it." He released her, took a step back. "I know what I am, and what I am ain't near good enough for you. You should have parties and fancy friends and a husband who can carry you off to Europe at the drop of a hat."

"You really are a jerk, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know."

"No, you don't know. For a man who can fight his way out of just about any crisis, you sure give up easily. Why do you think I'm here right now? I could be with my father, safe in some military installation, but I wanted to be here. With you. If I wanted parties and trips to Europe, I would have done it years ago. I don't know where you get your ideas from, but I'm not exactly a social butterfly. I'm here—with you—because I choose to be, so let's get one thing straight. You either grow a set of balls and fight for me, or you take me back to my dad."