So much for fairness. They started on the beers without the slightest guilt.
"They've got balls," Savich said, looking up from cleaning his gun by the window. "They can't shoot worth a shit, but they're serious about this."
"Please tell me our rental car has a cell phone, Dillon," Sherlock said.
"I'd tell you so if it were true," Savich said.
"This is very depressing," Sherlock said. "I wish I hadn't finished my beer off so fast."
I checked the dead bolt again and shifted the chair more firmly beneath the knob. "When it's dark we've got to try to get out of here."
"It's dark enough," Laura said. "We'll all go right now. Let's try to make it to your car, Mac. We can get the hell out of Dodge." I saw she was chewing on her bottom lip, looking toward Savich, who'd been silent. He said finally, "I agree. It's been nearly a half hour that we haven't heard a thing. If they wanted to kill us, they'd still be shooting. Yeah, why not try to get out of here?"
I opened the front door very quietly. I waited, then eased outside, looking toward the cliffs, sweeping my SIG Sauer slowly around in a wide arc. There was a big moon floating over the water, but roiling dark tattered clouds kept sliding in front of it. The night was blessedly dark. I waited until the moon was covered, then ran low to the Taurus, Savich, Sherlock, and Laura on my heels.
Both women were in, down on the floor of the backseat, Savich in the passenger seat as I turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. I tried again, then stopped. "Somebody disabled the car," I said.
"They must have been very quiet about it," Savich said. "Let's get back inside. I'll cover you."
No one tried to shoot us on our mad run back.
Once the four of us were back inside the cottage, the front door closed and locked, Savich said, "This is interesting. We're in America and we're as effectively cut off from help as you were, Mac, in North Africa." I remembered that day when I thought my ticket was punched. There'd been help there though.
Laura shook her head, her face drawn. 'This should have been just me. It doesn't matter that you're cops too, this wasn't your assignment. You're innocent bystanders. I'm sorry you got tossed into the middle."
"I made the decision with you," I said. "It's Sherlock and Savich who are the innocent bystanders."
"Shove it, Mac," Savich said.
"Coffee," Sherlock said. "We might as well start making some. We're just going to have to wait for the sheriff. You do think she's coming to check on us, don't you?"
"I don't think they're going to let us just sit here and snooze all night, Sherlock," Savich said. "They're going to come for us."
"Interesting how they got off at least a dozen shots at us, Laura, and missed. Don't you think that's strange?"
"They don't want us dead for some reason?" Savich said, a dark eyebrow hoisted up an inch. "Maybe not," I said.
In the next instant, all three windows across the front of the cottage imploded, spewing in shattered glass, tattered bits of curtains, and heavy metal canisters that struck the floor and rolled. They made loud popping noises and gushed out smoke. The smoke was something caustic, bitter, something that burned the very air, something that burned the breath in your mouth.
There was no time. I looked at Laura, who was staring down at one of those small egg-shaped gray cylinders that was releasing a steady stream of the pale blue smoke not six feet away from her.
"It's ice acid," she said. "I'm sorry, guys. I'm very, very sorry."
I wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault. I opened my mouth, inhaled some of the ice acid, and thought my tongue would burn off. I wanted to yell with the pain, but my throat was burned closed. I was shutting down and it was the strangest feeling. I was beginning to feel cold, my mouth was numb, my teeth chattering. That's why they called it ice acid. It did that to you before it laid you flat.
Before I closed my eyes, I saw Savich holding Sherlock tightly against him, his head against the top of hers. Laura was on her side on the floor, her legs drawn up. She wasn't moving. I tried to get to her.
Then I couldn't see her. My eyes were freezing shut, tears seeping out, ice cold on my cheeks. I wanted to tell Savich that we had to get out of here.
Then I didn't feel a thing.
Chapter Twenty
I knew I was awake because I heard myself moaning. But there wasn't any pain. Laura was calling my name, over and over. "Mac, don't do this. Please, please, Mac, stop. Wake up!"
I opened my eyes and stared down into Laura's face. "Oh God, you're awake. Mac, you've got to stop."
For a moment I didn't know what she was talking about. Stop what? "Mac, please, get away. Stop it, Mac."
No, I wasn't feeling any pain, but what I was feeling was harsh and real. It was shattering me. I didn't understand it.
"Mac, wake up!"
I was on top of her. She was naked and I was naked as well and between her legs. I was poised to come into her. I felt such overwhelming lust, I didn't think I could stop.
"Laura, my God, Laura."
"Mac, stop!"
"Oh, God, I don't think I can." I was panting, trying to slow the movement of my body. The urge to come into her was killing me. I locked my muscles and yelled. I wasn't going to rape her. I wasn't. The need to do just that was beyond what I could understand. It was pushing me, driving me, and I yelled again, trying to get hold, to get my mind, my will, back. I could feel her flesh against me and I didn't think I could hold back.
I looked down at her, saw she was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"NO!" I yelled, my head thrown back.
I jerked myself off her, falling beside her on the wooden floor. I lay there panting, cursing, feeling the urge to come inside her pounding through my body.
"Mac."
Her voice seemed a long way away, but I knew she was lying beside me.
"Are you all right?"
There wasn't any more fear in her voice, just relief. I turned onto my side to face her. She was looking at me, and she was smiling. It was then I saw that her hands were tied over her head, her legs open and tied at the ankles. She was helpless. I wasn't. I wasn't quite naked. I still had on my running shoes and shirt.
I took deep breaths, over and over, just kept sucking in air and blowing out, trying desperately to clear my mind.
I reached out my hand to touch her, then pulled it back. I wasn't strong enough yet.
Tears were still on her cheeks. I couldn't bear it. I touched her then, wiping the tears away with my fingers. "I'm so sorry, Laura. What happened?"
"They drugged us."
I made the mistake of looking down her body. I gritted my teeth and rolled away. I was still hard. I jumped to my feet, grabbed my clothes off the floor, and quickly pulled my shorts and pants on.
I felt more normal now that I was dressed. Fight it, I said to myself over and over. Just fight it.
I came down on my knees beside her. Her legs were wide apart, her ankles tied to small rings fastened in the floor.
"I'm sorry," I said. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't realize, didn't know-"
"You weren't the one who tied me down, Mac. I'm all right. You managed to stop."
My hands were shaking. It took awhile for me to untie the knots around her wrists and ankles. Slowly, she pulled her legs together and sat up. She was rubbing her wrists. "Thank you, Mac."
"Where are your clothes?"
"I don't know."
I stripped off my shirt and handed it to her. As I watched her pull it on and fasten the buttons, my mind started to feel heavy and dull. The urge to have her was receding now. I could control it.