Lover's Bridge Pt. 05

"Not your fault," Roland told her.

"What happened to Susan?"

"Stolen away by a rival who wanted to hurt me more than have her. She didn't understand that. Oh, you mean how it ended? Officially? I divorced her for abandonment a year after she left with her lover. Unofficially? What was left of her body was found on an island in the Bahamas. Along with her lover. She had been shot with a 9mm."

"Did you have anything to do with that?" Azalea asked.

"Only incidentally. We got word that her lover - an old nemesis - was about to sell her into slavery. We tried to rescue her. Almost succeeded." He looked back at hurtful memories and added. "I wouldn't have taken her back, but even after what she did, she didn't deserve what he had in store for her."

"Have you met anyone since then?" she pressed him.

"Yeah, I've met quite a few women. Even had sex with some of them. And no, none of them worked for the Russians," he chuckled.

"Russians? I don't understand," Azalea replied, a confused look on her face.

"Old joke," Roland said. "And a damn tiresome one at that."

"Ah," Azalea answered, looking at the table as Roland reassembled his weapon. "What I meant was... Have you met anyone... special? Someone you might like to marry one day?" Roland stopped what he was doing and considered her carefully as he formulated his answer. Was she fishing for something? Now he was the one confused.

"I've met one or two. Unfortunately, they were both married at the time. And they weren't among the ones I had sex with. I may be many things, but I'm not a homewrecker."

"What if they weren't married?" Azalea asked.

"Then that might change things. Why the questions?"

"I'm just... curious," she replied.

"Uh-huh. Well, I can tell you this. I could never live with an arrangement like you and Phillipe had. To me, if you wanna mess around like a single person, then you have no business getting married. But that's just my opinion, for whatever it may be worth," Roland said. Azalea's brows furrowed as she considered his words. She looked like she was grappling with a deeply philosophical problem.

Roland sighed heavily. "Let me put it this way. If you're a patriot, if you can be trusted, you play 100 percent for one team or one country. You're not an 80 percent patriot and only work part-time for China, North Korea, or Iran." He checked the barrel alignment and worked the action, pleased at how smooth it was, even after all these years.

"For people, any... intimate... time you spend with someone you say you don't love, you are stealing it from the one you claim to love. Even if you aren't in bed with them at that moment, even if they are halfway around the world.

"You can be writing them a letter, making a video call, planning a party, or doing something they don't expect, just to show them how much, well, how much you care about them. From buying the pool table they always wanted to putting in the garden they always said they dreamed about." He stopped himself as he realized he was picking at scars he long ago had thought were healed but might now only be numb.

"I think I understand," Azalea said slowly.

"Well, I got her back together," Roland said, holding his weapon up. "Wanna go out back and pop off a few rounds, see what she feels like?"

"Sure," Azalea said with a slight smile. "I've never fired an... old girl... before."

...

Everyone gathered around Ryan and Beverly's dinner table a little earlier than the previous day for dinner. Except for the menu, almost everything was the same as the day before.

"You put Tabasco on this, and you'll be wearing it," Beverly joked as she placed the lasagna on the table.

"I never put Tabasco on lasagna," Azalea replied in her monotone.

"What's going on?" Roland asked. "We're eating a little early tonight, aren't we?"

"Yes," Ryan said as he placed helpings of lasagna on everyone's plate. "If Gagnon is going to move, he'll do it tonight, after dark. I wanna be ready for him when he moves."

"We've got deputies and National Guard assets deployed in the area," Smith explained. "We've also got an ambulance stationed just up the road under cover waiting for our signal in case we need it. We're going to let Gagnon slip through and get as close as possible before anything happens. Don't worry, he's not getting out of this." He looked at Azalea before continuing.

"I spoke to our people in Montreal. The Surete and the RCMP will move in on Worldwide's North America headquarters tomorrow morning. French authorities will move in Marseilles at the same time. If everything works out, it'll all be over by this time tomorrow. We'll also move in on their other offices in the States."

"So it will all be over soon," Azalea said.

"That's the plan. We've been working toward this for years. I would think you'd be happy," Smith added.

"Yes, of course, I'm happy," Azalea said, but her face belied her words. "If this is over, I will probably be offered another position. Maybe in Montreal or Ottawa." She looked at Roland, and there was a hint of sadness on her face which no one missed and surprised nearly everyone. "Hopefully, it will not be a dull job pushing paper."

"I'm sure everything will work out just fine," Smith said.

"I hope so," Azalea replied. They finished their meal and topped it with a slice of apple pie. When they finished, Ryan helped Beverly clear the table as everyone else migrated to the front room to prepare for what Ryan and Smith believed would happen.

"Make sure you use these," Ryan said as he passed out sets of level III body armor for Smith, Azalea, Roland, and Bill. "I know they're not top of the line, but they're better than nothing. I've been pushing for more updated stuff, but Commissioner Barnes says it's not a priority since we don't have much gun crime here."

"Thanks," Smith said as he took his vest. "If I had known we were going into a firefight, I would've brought something better than... this."

"Are you okay?" Roland asked Azalea as she checked her sidearm.

"Yes," she said simply. She looked at Roland and came face to face with him, startling him. "Be careful, Roland. Please."

"I got this," he told her. "It's not my first rodeo, you know."

"I know. It's just..."

"It'll be okay, Azalea," he emphasized. He started to say something else but couldn't. Azalea suddenly came forward, mashing her lips hard against his. He was shocked when her tongue worked its way into his mouth, her hands holding his head close to hers. She broke the kiss almost as fast and stepped back.

"Be careful," she whispered, intensely enough for everyone to hear. No one else moved, and no one else spoke.

"Uh... yeah. I... will," Roland replied, unsure what to make of her action. This was the first time she had ever kissed him, something she hadn't done when they had had sex. Strangely, he felt closer to her in that brief contact than ever. Something moved inside that he had thought long dead and deeply buried.

"Earth to Roland," Bill said after Azalea left. Roland turned to look at his long-time friend and comrade. "What the hell just happened?"

"Beats the heck out of me," Roland said. Everyone but Beverly ignored the byplay; she shook her head in understanding and grumbled, "Men!" under her breath.

"Your mouth is saying that, but your eyes say something else," Bill said. "You falling for her or something?"

"It was just a kiss," Roland protested half-heartedly. Perhaps it was just a kiss, but it was the most... emotional... kiss he had ever gotten from a woman, leaving his mind reeling. Was he really falling for Azalea? When did that happen?

"Yeah, right. Get your head in the game. I think the shit's about to get real again," Bill told him. It was getting dark outside, so Roland finished checking his gear and prepared himself for whatever might come.

Smith listened to his earbud, then nodded. "Charlie six says he's on the move. Coming in from the southeast, headed toward the back of the house."

"We wait on him. Don't spook him. We want him in close," Ryan ordered.

They didn't have long to wait. About an hour later, one of the flash-bang signals Roland had set up in Ryan's backyard exploded. Everyone except Beverly ran out the back door and took their positions, each surveying the area. Then they heard a man's voice.

"Well, well. Sheriff Caldwell. Or should I call you Whiskey Delta One? We meet in person at last." They turned toward the voice, weapons drawn.

"Whatever flips your trigger, Gagnon," Ryan called out. "Step forward so we can see you."

"Not until you put your weapons down, Sheriff. Do it slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them." Looking around, Ryan nodded and slowly put his sidearm on the ground. Then he slowly stood, putting his hands in front of him, and the others did the same.

"You're not getting out of here, Gagnon. We're taking you in. Dead or alive. Either way, it doesn't matter much to me," Ryan called out.

"I walked right by your deputies and National Guard troops, Sheriff. I could've taken them out all by myself. I'll get out of here just fine," Gagnon called back.

"Oh, right. Night vision, low light scanners, and the Guard just itching to play with their brand new silent little drone with the moving target radar? Did it ever occur to you they were supposed to let you through?" Ryan asked sarcastically. "Or has your arrogance clouded your judgment?"

"Hahaha. Don't insult my intelligence, Sheriff," Gagnon said as he stepped forward, an Uzi in each hand tethered to a harness around his shoulders. Ryan was reminded of the movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger and stifled a laugh. Even with the weapons' low recoil rate, Ryan knew there was no way Gagnon could control his fire adequately. This was meant for intimidation and nothing more.

"What do you want?" Azalea demanded, venom in her voice.

"If it isn't the bitch," Gagnon sneered. "You know what I want. I've waited years for this moment."

"Why did you kill my husband?" she asked. "And why did you kill those other people? They did nothing to you."

"Simple. Your husband was no longer of use to me. Same with Monsieur Holder. Although I did not kill him myself, I ordered it done. The woman? She was a loose end that had to be dealt with, nothing more," Gagnon said.

"What do you mean Phillipe was no longer useful to you?" Azalea asked, puzzled.

"It was his job to watch you," Gagnon replied. "Who do you think arranged for him to meet you at that company function in Montreal? Who do you think saw to it that he was always available to take you out? Arranged for your so-called wedding?"

"What? That makes no sense," Azalea cried angrily. Gagnon laughed maniacally.

"Seriously? You've seen the women he's bedded. Do you honestly think he would ever look twice at someone like you? You are a schoolgirl compared to those women. When was the last time you wore makeup or had your hair done? Do you even know HOW to use fingernail polish? You are nothing compared to the beauties Phillipe used to attract."

"I do not need those things," Azalea said in her usual monotone. "And what do you mean, so-called wedding? We were married. I have the paperwork."

"All of which was faked," Gagnon stated coldly. "And all of which was arranged by me. Just so I could destroy your little... fantasy world."

"I do not believe you," Azalea cried out suddenly. "It was real. He loved me. I loved him."

"How could any man possibly love you? And what do you know of love? You do not even know how to smile. Phillipe used to tell me how you could not even stand to sleep in the same bed as him. And how you do not even wear earrings or own a dress.

"He did say you were a memorable fuck, though. Why do you think he would only fuck you at night, with the lights out? Or by the light of a single candle? He said that way, he could imagine any face upon you. I used to fantasize about fucking you myself. But seeing you here now, I could not force myself to do it. It would be like... fucking an inmate at a mental ward or the cat lady at the homeless shelter. Perhaps even my little sister. If I had one, that is."

"Were you involved in that meth lab we raided five years ago?" Azalea demanded coldly, ignoring his words with great effort. Ryan was as still as a statue, watching the drama play out. His eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, trying to judge the best time to intervene.

"Of course. Who do you think blew that explosive that took off your left foot? I searched high and low for that foot. I've kept it on ice ever since, but I have found it to be a useful masturbatory aid. It gave me much joy to see you taken down. Maimed. Much joy. The 'great' Sgt. Dupont. So much more satisfying than a quick death. And now, I intend to finish the job."

"You are an insane despicable little man. And I mean that in every demeaning way you can imagine. Do you honestly think killing me will bring Emile back to life?" Her tone was barely controlled.

"Of course not," Gagnon stated. "And it may very well be the last thing I do. But I will die a happy man knowing you are also dead. Now, hold still so I can get a good clean shot." With the speed of a striking snake, Jean-Pierre let loose of one Uzi and used both hands to control the other, which he pointed at Azalea.

"NO!" Roland shouted when he saw Jean-Pierre's finger on the trigger. With three explosive strides, Roland got between Azalea and Jean-Pierre just as a burst of fire erupted from the Uzi. His eyes widened in surprise when the bullets slammed into his body, hurling him to the ground in a pool of blood.

Ryan, Azalea, Smith, and Bill used that moment to drop and grab their weapons. They each aimed and emptied their magazines into Jean-Pierre's head and body. Ryan saw a bullet tear into the man's left eye, and another entered his right. The back of his head burst open as more bullets struck his torso.

"Cease fire!" Ryan called out when his weapon was empty. Jean-Pierre's bullet-ridden corpse lay on the ground, and Smith rushed to check on him as Ryan, Bill, and Azalea knelt by Roland. They were surprised that he was still alive but had been seriously injured. Unfortunately, the military-grade 9mm rounds from Jean-Pierre's Uzi had penetrated Roland's body armor.

Without thinking, Azalea tore off her t-shirt and used it to help stop blood flow from Roland's wounds. Ryan saw the hint of a tear in her eye as she feverishly worked to save him.

"The bastard used Teflon-coated, armor-piercing rounds. If he were not already in Hell, I would show him Hell on Earth," she spit as Ryan mentally cursed Frank Barnes for being such a tightwad. She spared a moment to spit in Jean-Pierre's general direction but kept the pressure on Roland's wounds.

"Get me some towels," Ryan called out. Beverly ran out of the house a few moments later with a pile of white towels, which Ryan and Azalea used to stop the blood flow. Roland tried to speak, but Azalea stopped him.

"Do not speak, mon cheri. Save your strength," Azalea told Roland, surprisingly gently. "Please, do not leave me. I just found you. I cannot lose you, too. Je t'aime, my dear Roland." Roland gurgled something, then passed out from the pain.

As Ryan and Bill watched, tears flooded down Azalea's face. It was the first real, spontaneous emotion they had ever seen from her. Ryan wondered where this was when she learned of Phillipe's murder.

Suddenly, Azalea began trembling all over, then threw her head back and let loose with a blood-curdling scream that sent chills up Ryan's spine. Ryan remembered when she asked if her tears would bring Phillipe back to life. Seeing her reaction to Roland's injuries, he began to think they could. Roland roused from Azalea's cry for a moment, then slipped back into unconsciousness.

Just then, the ambulance pulled into the backyard area, and paramedics rushed to Roland's side. They immediately began first aid as they prepared to transport him to the hospital. Azalea grabbed one of the paramedics.

"I'm going with him," she told the male paramedic.

"I'm sorry, miss, you can follow us, but you can't be in the ambulance with him," he told her.

"Dammit, I am NOT your MISS! I am Sgt. Azalea Dupont of the Surete du Quebec, and I AM going with you! Do you understand me?" she growled as she gripped the man's collar, her face red with rage.

"Uh, yes, ma'am, if you insist," he conceded quickly, obviously fearing for his own life. "But I think you really should put something on first," he added, trying to sound reasonable. Azalea looked down, perhaps realizing for the first time that her B-cup breasts were entirely on display since she seldom bothered with a bra.

"Perhaps you are right," she replied in her normal quiet tone. Beverly met her at the door with another t-shirt, which she quickly donned. When she returned, the paramedics had Roland on a gurney and placed him in the back of the ambulance. She promptly jumped inside, ignoring everything else.

"I'll meet you there," Ryan said before the doors closed. Azalea nodded without taking her eyes off Roland, and the ambulance pulled out, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Ryan, Smith, and Bill walked to Jean-Pierre's corpse and looked down at him.

"I think we got him," Smith said sarcastically.

"And I didn't even get a chance to read him his rights," Ryan quipped. "Oh well. I warned him. Reckon I'd better call for the meat wagon." He grabbed his phone and called the duty medical examiner. By the time he finished, Ranger Wilson, some deputies, and National Guard soldiers made their way to his yard.

"Like I said, Sheriff, you certainly have a unique way of handling things," Wilson said, taking in the bullet-shredded corpse and the two submachine guns.

"Reckon so," Ryan said.

...

5:30 am, Monday, September 26, 2022

"The patient is recovering from surgery now, Sheriff Caldwell," Dr. Hanson said after coming out of the surgical suite.

"How is he, Dr. Hanson?" Ryan asked.

"It was touch and go for a little while, but fortunately the bullets didn't tumble, or fragment or mushroom, clean penetration, and nothing major was damaged. Lost a lot of blood though. The next 24 hours are crucial, but I'm optimistic. I think you should look after Mrs. Dupont, though. She's a wreck right now. I doubt if she's moved an inch since the orderlies put her in that chair."

"Thanks, Doc. I'll take care of it. When do you think we can see Mr. Waters?"

"I'd let him rest for the day. We're gonna keep him sedated for a while. Maybe in the morning."

"Sounds good, Doc. Thanks." Smith appeared next to Ryan and caught the last part of Dr. Hanson's statement.

"So he's out of surgery?"

"Yeah," Ryan said. "What's the word?"

"Worldwide is officially shut down. RCMP and the Surete moved in early this morning just as everyone was getting their morning coffee. French authorities shut down the main headquarters. Now it's up to the prosecutors."

"Think it's safe to stand down?" Ryan asked.

"I believe so," Smith said.

"You heading back to DC?"

"Yeah, nothing left for me to do here. I would appreciate some breakfast, though."

"I think we can manage that. Biscuits and gravy? Sally makes it fresh every morning," Ryan said. "My treat."

"In that case, absolutely," Smith said with a smile. "My wife's not here, so she can't stop me from indulging."

"Good. Let me collect Azalea and Bill, and we'll get going," Ryan said. After convincing them there was nothing more they could do at the hospital, they went to Sally's Boardwalk Cafe, where they enjoyed breakfast and coffee - on Ryan's dime - then returned to his home.

"What's the plan?" Beverly asked as Ryan prepared to shower.

"I'm taking Smith back to the office. He's catching a plane back east, and I'll be up to my ass in paperwork and interviews with the press most of the day. I'll check on Roland's status on my way home, but I don't look for him to be awake till tomorrow morning," Ryan said.