Chris Larabee had never been so damn tired in his life, yet the kid in the passenger seat was wide awake and yammering excitedly. The last week had been spent at a law enforcement convention for computer personnel and although they weren't officially part of the Billings Police Department, they did have close ties to several government agencies. Normally it would have been Ezra Standish accompanying JD Dunne, but the southerner was in the midst of a case that had taken several long months to get to the point where the kingpin of the operation trusted him and Vin Tanner.
Josiah, Nathan, and Buck were embroiled in a bitter court case and would remain incommunicado until such time as they testified and the case was over. That left him as the unwilling partner for JD at the convention, but if truth was told he had enjoyed himself more than he cared to admit. Watching the young easterner working with several programmers who had at least twenty years on him had been fun. The programmers had been dealing with a no win situation that had been unsolvable until Dunne had taken a page right out of James T. Kirk's manual and reprogrammed the simulation so that he could rescue the townspeople and save the world. The programmers had been angered by what they called cheating on Dunne's part, but the woman in charge of the simulation had told them to 'put a sock in it' and gave Dunne an award for artistic merit in rewriting the program.
JD held the award in his hands and had taken great pride in the fact that he'd managed to outmaneuver several other candidates. Chris smiled in spite of the bone weary tiredness that seeped through his bones and made it impossible to think beyond closing his eyes and sleeping for a week. He knew JD had slept through most of today's drive and sighed heavily before pulling the truck to a stop on the shoulder of the road.
"What's wrong, Chris?" Dunne asked worriedly.
"Nothing, Kid," Larabee said and opened his door. "It's time you took the wheel and I grabbed some shut eye."
"You're letting me drive your truck?" the Bostonian asked incredulously.
"You do have a license don't you?"
"Course I do...it's just you've never let me drive before," Dunne told him.
"Well, I figure anyone who can think like Captain Kirk should be able to handle a truck," Larabee told him and walked around the truck as Dunne slid into the driver's seat. Chris could see the surprise on the kid's face and smiled as he opened the passenger door and climbed inside. He put on his seatbelt and closed the door before crossing his arms and leaning his head against the window. "Just go easy, JD...I heard Buck say you were something of a lead foot."
"Buck's full of shit," Dunne said, relieved when Larabee's eyes closed. The fact that the blond trusted him enough to allow him to take the wheel made his head spin.
"Wake me in a couple of hours, Kid."
"Sure, Chris," the Bostonian said with a grin before pulling out onto the highway again. It felt good to know Larabee trusted him with the truck and he wasn't going to let him down. He kept within five miles of the speed limit and listened to the station Larabee had tuned in to. He began to hum along, glancing sideways at Larabee as he drove along the narrow stretch of highway that led to Billings. It would take at least another eight hours to reach home, but they'd already decided to drive straight through.
Chris dozed off and on, but didn't speak as JD drove steadily along the highway. He glanced at his watch and noted the younger man had been driving for over an hour and was whistling softly to an Eagles song called Hotel California. It was an old favorite of his and he reached out to turn the volume up slightly before stretching and glancing out the window. The sky had darkened and rain began to fall as JD reached for the bottle of water in the cup holder.
"We'll need to stop for gas soon," Dunne said.
"Keep an eye out for service stations," Larabee told him.
"The last sign said there should be one coming up on our right."
"Good...maybe we could get coffee and something to eat."
"I was hoping you'd say that," the Bostonian said with a grin.
"I don't know who's worse, Kid...you or Vin," the blond said. The two youngest members of his team could out eat the other five put together and Ezra had offered to open a betting pool and set up a test. The problem with that was no one wanted to be responsible for the bill once the contest ended. "Turn right here, JD."
Dunne had seen the sign that proclaimed the town's name to be Providence as well, and was already turning off the main highway. There were no houses on either side of the dirt road and JD began to wonder if Providence was someone's sick joke as they rounded a bend and hit a deep rut in the road.
"Go easy, JD, I think maybe someone forgot to maintain the road," Larabee said, noting the rather large, garish sign proclaiming Providence as the home of Father John. The road narrowed and was barely wide enough for two cars and Chris felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
"Maybe we should turn around, Chris," Dunne suggested.
"Need to find a place first, Kid," Larabee said of the narrow road surrounded by thick strands of trees and brush. They passed several more signs, some showing pictures of young people gathered around a clean-shaven man with a bald head and holding a bible in his hands.
"I think there's a place up ahead," the Bostonian said. He drove over the low rise and was surprised by the picture perfect town nestled on the banks of a winding river. "Guess maybe it is Providence."
"Could be," Larabee said, shaking his head as he noted the signs became more abundant the closer they got to the town.
"Good thing Buck's not with us," Dunne said when he read the words proclaiming promiscuity and public displays of promiscuous behavior would not be tolerated.
"He'd never survive," Larabee said with a grin as he thought about the man he'd known most of his life. Buck was gregarious and had a nearly insatiable appetite when it came to sex. Wilmington could charm the 'sting off a bee' and that was no idle brag from the other man.
"There's a gas station," Dunne said, pointing to the lone building at the edge of town. He felt his body jerk as the front tires of the truck struck a deep hole and ground to a halt. "Sonofabitch!"
"Easy, JD, just try backing it up," Larabee ordered and listened as Dunne tried to get the truck to respond to his touch. "Hang on, let me see how bad it is."
"All right," Dunne said, silently berating himself for not paying closer attention to the treacherous road.
"Turn it off, JD," Larabee ordered with a heavy sigh. "I think we broke an axle."
"Damn, Chris, I'm sorry," the Bostonian told him.
"It's okay, Kid, it's not like you were trying to hit every pothole," the blond said with a grin.
"What are we going to do?"
"We check with the gas station and see if there's a mechanic around," Larabee said turning when he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, surprised when he realized it was a police car. He waited for the car to pull alongside and the door opened as a tall man with silvering hair stepped outside.
"Problems, Gentlemen?" the officer asked.
"Busted axle," Larabee answered and looked around. "Any chance there's a mechanic at that garage station?"
"Old Burt should be there, but he's kind of slow so it could take a day or two," the cop said and reached out his hand. "Name's Tom Willow and I'm what they call the law around here. Let me get Old Burt and see if his tow truck's up and running."
"Thanks..."
"Just call me Tom, Mr..."
"Chris Larabee and that's JD Dunne behind the wheel," Larabee told him.
"Welcome to Providence, Gentlemen, and you picked a mighty fine day to break down. Father John's giving a sermon in the Town Square. You've never heard anyone speak of the Lord the way he does."
"It's been a long trip, Tom, and I'd rather just find a hotel and get some sleep," the blond told him.
"Are you sure...I mean he is a wonderful speaker."
"I'm sure...could you just point us to a hotel?"
"There's no hotels in town. Father John believes they are an attraction of evil and prefers that we only have Bed and Breakfast Inns for weary travelers such as yourselves," Tom told them. "The closest one is run by Sister Mary and is about half a mile down the main street. If you want I can give you a ride there once we take care of your truck."
"Thanks, Tom, I'd appreciate that," Larabee said.
"I'll be right back," the officer told them as JD joined Larabee.
"Friendly fella," Dunne observed.
"A bit too friendly," the blond thought tiredly as he leaned against the truck. He reached into the cab of the truck and took out his cell phone, not that surprised when he found there was no signal. "Check your phone, JD."
"No signal," Dunne answered and reached into the back of the truck to retrieve their overnight bags.
"Figures, I'm beginning to think Providence really is someone's idea of a sick joke," Larabee said as an old tow truck came toward them.
"You gents need a tow?"
"Sure do," Dunne answered as a grizzled old man stepped from the cab.
"You fellas really did a job on it. I'm Burt Landry...most folks just call me Old Burt," the elderly man said and examined the Ford Crew Cab. "Sure looks like you messed up the front axle...could take a few days to get it fixed."
"Figures," Larabee said and watched as the cop returned. It didn't take long to get the Ford hooked up to the tow truck and Old Burt drove it to the gas station. "Tom, where can I find a phone?"
"You won't find one in Providence. Father John thinks they're evil," Tom explained.
"Is there anything Father John doesn't think is evil?" Larabee asked.
"Plenty," Tom answered as he motioned for the two men to get into his car. "If you'd come to the Town Square you'd hear all about it."
"No thanks," Larabee said as they drove through the town before stopping in front of a well-kept white house surrounded by a white picket fence and a colorful array of sweet smelling flowers.
"Jane is a wonderful lady and she'll take good care of you," Tom told them.
"Thanks, Tom," Larabee said upon exiting the car and grabbing his overnight bag as Dunne grabbed his own.
"You're welcome, she'll also show you the way if you change your mind about attending the sermon."
"Not likely, thanks anyway," Larabee said and walked toward the open gate. He entered the front yard and walked along the cobblestone pathway toward the house.
"I feel like I stepped back in time," Dunne offered.
"Me too, Kid," the blond said as the door opened and an older woman stepped outside to greet them.
"Hello, Gentlemen, can I help you?" she asked, wiping her hands on an apron that was white except for a perfect pink rose at the center.
"Yes, Ma'am, Tom said you'd have a room for a couple of days," Larabee told her.
"Well, each room has a single bed so I'm afraid you'd need two rooms."
"We'll take them, Mrs..."
"Jane Constantine," the woman said and shook both their hands as Larabee introduced himself and JD.
"Mrs..."
"Please, call me Jane," the woman said and led them inside. "I have two lovely rooms at the back of the house and I just changed the sheets and blankets so everything is ready for you."
Chris introduced himself and JD as he stepped inside the first room and again felt as if he'd stepped back in time. A dusty-rose colored wallpaper covered the lower half of the room while the upper half was painted a light gray color. Soft, frilly gray curtains covered in dusty roses fluttered on the wind. The bed was covered in a gray comforter while a tiffany style lamp sat on the night table. A basin and pitcher of water was set on a table in one corner and several towels were next to the basin.
"There is only one bathroom at the end of the hallway, but Father John saw fit to give us an abundance of hot water."
"I take it Father John is a bit of a preacher?" Dunne said.
"He's more than a preacher, Son, he's our savior. You and your friend should come hear him at the Town Square," the woman told him.
"That's okay, Jane, I'm just going to grab some shut eye and hope the mechanic is able to fix my truck by morning," Larabee told her.
"I don't think that'll happen. Old Burt will be at the sermon with the rest of town," Jane told them.
"Maybe if we offered him a bonus, Chris?"
"Money is not an object," Jane told them. "No one misses Father John's sermon."
"I am," Larabee said, smiling as he closed the door and made his way to the bed. He lay down and placed his hands under his head and closed his eyes as he listened to the woman and JD talking just outside the door. The bed was remarkably comfortable and he wanted nothing more than to sleep, but first he wanted a hot shower and maybe a bite to eat. Reluctantly he stood up, walked to the small table and picked up the towels and face cloth. He grabbed his overnight bag and knew there was enough soap and shampoo to last a couple of days. He opened the door to find Jane Constantine closing the door of the room next to his.
"If you change your mind, Mr. Larabee, the Town Square will be well lit..."
"What do you do if it rains?" Larabee asked.
"Then we move inside the main hall, but it never rains on one of Father John's sermons."
"I bet he even walks on water," Larabee mumbled and made his way toward the open door of the bathroom.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you," the woman said.
"I just said I'm glad there's lots of hot water."
"Oh, yes, because cleanliness is next to Godliness..."
"Indeed it is," Larabee said and stepped inside.
A white claw-foot bathtub was set against one wall while a small shower stall stood next to it. A powder blue mat hung on a towel bar and Chris placed it on the floor before turning on the hot water. He removed his dust-covered clothing, grabbed the musk-scented soap and shampoo and stepped under the water, relaxing as the sharp needle like spray massaged the weariness from his body. He slowly washed his body, removing all traces of sweat and dirt before reluctantly turning off the water and toweling dry.
Chris reached into his bag and took out the last pair of clean blue jeans and a white T-shirt that hugged his body. He knew Buck would say he was tempting the ladies, but that was not what he was going for when he chose this outfit. These were comfort clothing and he pulled on a clean pair of socks before slipping his black Nike runners on and exiting the bathroom.
"Hey, Chris, Jane left some ham sandwiches and juice in the kitchen," Dunne offered as Larabee passed by his open door.
"Thanks, Kid, but right now I just feel like sleeping," the blond told him.
"All right, Chris," Dunne said and stepped out of his room. "Think I'm just going to have a look around town before I get a shower."
"Just be careful, JD, watch out for 'fire and brimstone'," Larabee teased.
"Real funny, Chris," Dunne said.
Chris stepped into his room and closed the door. He knew JD could look after himself and wasn't worried about the younger man. What kind of trouble could he find in a town that proclaimed no promiscuity? Chris pulled off his shoes and lay back on the bed as church bells echoed through the town.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
The sun was just going down as JD made his way toward the sound of church bells ringing. The quicksilver sound had been going on for over an hour and he suddenly realized he'd been following it as he turned onto a street that was lit with candles. He could hear a strong male voice as he entered a large clearing and figured he'd found the Town Square. There were many people present, every one of them wearing a long white robe that covered them from their neck to their feet.
JD walked forward as a chant went up around him and frowned when he spotted the man standing at the front of the gathering. There were over a dozen robed figures seated before him, not one looked to be any older than he was. No one seemed to notice him, but the chanting seemed to get louder as a path opened before him.
"There is a newcomer amongst us...a sinner who has yet to repent for his transgressions..."
Dunne nearly choked as he realized the man was looking directly at him. He tried to speak, but words failed him as the imposing figure lifted his right hand and motioned him forward. He tried to fight the rhythmic chant, but his legs moved forward even as his mind ordered him to turn tail and run.
"Come forward, Young Man, there is still time to save your soul and deliver you to the true path..."
'I don't think so,' JD thought, but continued to move toward the raised platform as the chanting intensified.
"Father John will save you...Father John is the true savior...Let him heal your sins and show you the way to true enlightenment....Repent and embrace the true path...repent..."
"Repent...repent...repent...repent..."
The words followed him as he reached the stairs leading to the raised stage and he tried to fight the strange, hypnotic mantra that rose on the soft breeze.
"Embrace Father John's ways...embrace Father John's ways....Embrace Father John's ways..."
JD reached the top step and was surrounded by the young people who seemed wholly enamored of the man standing at center stage.
"Come forth and be saved, Young Sinner. I am Father John and I will heal thee."
"Father John...I don't..."
"Be quiet and listen to my voice, Young Sinner, for it is your only salvation. Remove the mantle of his sins and drape him in the robe of salvation...you are young and you will serve me well."
JD felt hands reaching for him and a soft breeze wafted across his skin as his clothing was removed and thrown into a fire that had gone unnoticed during his trek to the platform. He soon felt a soft garment slide down over his body before being forced to kneel in front of the man standing at center stage.
"You have sinned and must be cleansed before you can enter my home," Father John whispered and cupped the younger man's chin as a silver chalice was brought forward. He reached for the ceremonial dagger at his right side and made a small cut to the palm of his right hand. A tiny bead, almost a pearl shape formed as he placed his hand in front of the new recruit. He knew Jane Constantine had done her job and the young man had been given the first dose of a drug that would make him easy to 'recruit'.
"No..." Dunne whispered, but found his mouth opening as the pearl drop of blood was placed in front of his mouth.
"Taste of my divine fire, Young Sinner, and it will help cleanse you." Father John smiled as the tongue slipped from the open mouth and drank the small offering. A loud chant went up as he raised his hand and showed the others that his hand was healed by Dunne's acceptance of his blood.
"Father John cleanses our mind and body and takes away all mortal sins..."
JD could hear the voices chanting, but he could no longer make sense of what they were saying. The taste in his mouth was sickly sweet, but he craved more and looked up to find a silver chalice placed in front of his mouth.
"Drink the sanctified blood and feel it cleanse your soul," Father John said and held the dark head until it tilted enough to drink the offering. He smiled as his followers continued to chant and their bodies swayed to the sound of his voice and the promise of redemption. "You have been chosen to become a true follower of my teachings and will answer only to me. You will do as I say and accept the blood of my body."
JD tried to fight the hypnotic voice, but whatever he'd been given pulsed through his veins and made him feel like his head would explode. A hand so soft it reminded him of a cloud and he sighed contentedly as he lifted his eyes to meet the sky blue ones of the man who seemed to be seven feet tall cupped his chin.
"Hear my words, John Daniel, and know that you are under my Divine protection and shall remain there as long as you do as I say. You will be taken to my compound for reprogramming and meditation..."
"I can't...Chris...he's waiting for me," Dunne managed, but felt as if his body was dead weight.
"He will not be allowed to interfere...I am your savior and you will abide by my wishes, John Daniel..."
"Name's JD..."
"Your name is John Daniel and you will not speak unless I allow it," Father John said and turned to the gathered worshippers. "John Daniel will be taken to the compound and it will be left to you to keep his friend from interfering while he is reprogrammed to believe in all that is true and holy."
"Yes, Father, John," the crowd chanted as JD Dunne was lifted and carried from the holy gathering.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Jane Constantine opened the door of her house and listened for any movement from inside, relieved when all she heard was the ticking of the Grandfather clock in the family room. 'Family,' she thought and sighed heavily. Since Father John had come to town her family had become believers in everything he said and did.
Jane reached inside and held the silver cross nestled at the top of her breasts. It had been a gift from Father John, one she proudly wore as a symbol of her faith in his words. She knew that every person living in Providence wore the exact same cross and they wore it with the same honor and pride she did, but she knew pride was not the right word because Father John did not believe in pride. He believed in all that was Holy and his followers had grown to include everyone.
"Repent your sins," she whispered as she passed the closed door where John Daniel's friend slept. It would be up to her and the other believers to keep him from finding out what had happened to John Daniel. She would remove the youth's belongings and make sure there was no evidence that he even existed. Burt Landry would do the same with the black truck at his garage. Jane shuddered at the thought of the imposing 'black' vehicle and wondered why anyone would choose such an evil color.
The woman stepped into the room she'd assigned to John Daniel and was relieved to see his bag where he'd placed it. There was no sign that he'd unpacked any of his belongings, but she quickly checked the small dresser and closet before carrying the lightweight bag out of the house. She quickly hid it in the shed and knew it would be disposed of before morning. Jane walked back into her house and made her way to her bedroom and prayed Father John would see that she woke before her guest.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
JD had no way of knowing how long he was carried before he was placed on his feet and facing a garishly decorated gate that stood well over ten feet tall and was made of iron. He swallowed convulsively as bitter bile rose in his throat and blinked several times in an effort to clear the fog that seemed to have taken up residence inside his skull. He heard voices, but their words didn't make sense until Father John stood before him.
"Kneel, John Daniel."
JD stared at the tall man as his knees bent and his head bowed. There was no way he could resist that soft, lilting voice and he felt tears in his eyes as the man placed a finger beneath his chin and lifted his head.
"Look into my eyes and see the truth, John Daniel."
"I am...I am unworthy..."
"Yes, you are, but through the ritualistic cleansing you will join your brethren in the service of your one true savior."
"True Savior?" JD repeated and tried to fight the captivating presence.
"Father John is the true savior. We live to serve Father John. All that was ours belongs to him for through him we will find salvation and peace."
JD shook his head and fought the hypnotic words spoken from the people surrounding him. His head was spinning and his gut churned as he fought to remember what was happening. Where was he? Where was Chris? Chris would know what was going on...he'd know what to do.
"Chris...where's...where's Chris?"
"Chris is a sinner, John Daniel, and you must relinquish all ties with sinners. He will try to stop you from believing and chain your soul to hell. I will not allow him to do that to one of my children, John Daniel."
"Who are...are you?"
"I am Father John. I am your savior...you will follow my teachings and denounce all that is unworthy of my beliefs."
"No...I don't..."
"Bring him."
"Yes, Father John."
JD felt himself lifted and carried through the gates. He tried to fight, but his arms and legs felt leaden and he could do nothing as the gate closed behind them. There were no lights, but there seemed to be several buildings inside the fenced area and Dunne tried to keep track of where they were taking him. They carried him past several structures until they came to a single building made of stone. The door was opened and he was carried inside and placed on a cold metal table.
"What the hell...let me go!" Dunne cried as his mind cleared. He fought, but his arms and legs were quickly encircled with metal clamps and several straps were fastened across his chest and legs. His head was captured between two large hands as a final strap was fastened across his forehead.
"John Daniel, here you will learn the true path to enlightenment. You will soon denounce the outside world for the peace and serenity of my teachings."
"No, damn it!" Dunne spat, but his words were cut off as a thick leather strap was fastened across his mouth. He tried to speak, but the gag was tightened until he was forced to breathe through his nose.
"I will return in the morning and perhaps you will be ready to listen and learn what is expected of true followers...of true believers."
JD struggled with his bindings, but there was no give to them as the lights were extinguished and he was left in darkness. 'Fire and Brimstone' he thought of Chris' words as he struggled to breathe past the fears that surrounded his heart.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Chris sat up on the edge of the bed and yawned tiredly before standing and stretching the kinks from his back. The bed had been amazingly comfortable and once he'd fallen asleep he hadn't heard a sound. The smell of coffee and bacon made his stomach rumble appreciatively and he realized he'd slept in his clothes.
"Must've been tired," he whispered as a knock sounded on the door.
"Breakfast is ready, Mr. Larabee."
"I'll be right there," the blond said and ran his fingers through his disheveled hair before reminding himself it was past time for a haircut. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and opened the door to find an empty hallway. He walked past JD's door and noted that it was still closed. 'Kid must have been out late,' he thought as he made his way to the bathroom. He washed up and made his way to the kitchen and smiled at the woman standing at the old fashioned wood stove.
"Good morning, Mr. Larabee, I hope you slept well," Jane said as she placed a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice in front of him.
"Thanks," Larabee said and drank half the juice as she brought over a tray of bacon and a bowl of scrambled eggs. He helped himself to the food and finished the coffee and juice.
"So what are your plans for today?" Jane asked.
"I figured I'd check with Burt to see how the truck repairs are coming along," the blond answered and looked over his shoulder. "Guess JD must've been tired. Look when he wakes up tell him I'll be back once I check with the garage."
"Certainly, Mr. Larabee," Jane Constantine said and watched the man leave. She knew the drug in the juice would kick in soon and hoped Tom Willow was in position to take care of things.
Chris stepped out into the early morning sunshine and reached for the sunglasses in his pocket. He placed them on and curiously glanced around the residential street. He knew it would take some time to walk to the gas station, but if Old Burt was correct there was no hurry anyway.
Larabee stayed on the sidewalk and noted how every house and yard looked almost exactly the same and shook his head as he noticed an elderly couple seated on a porch swing with a bible between them. He didn't consider himself a highly religious man, but these people seemed to be taking things way beyond belief. He nodded to the people he passed and received exactly the same greeting from each one.
"Father John blesses you."
God, he was tired of hearing that by the time he reached the gas station and hoped the people had retired inside before he started back to the B and B. He saw his truck parked at the back of the parking lot and hurried toward it just as Burt Landry came around the corner.
"Father John blesses you, Mr. Larabee," Landry said by way of a greeting.
"I don't need his blessings unless he knows how to fix my truck," Larabee stated.
"Well, now that could be a problem, but if Father John wills it I'll be able to get the parts and get you on your way," Landry told him, watching as Larabee's face paled and he grabbed the truck. "Hey, have you been drinking? Father John doesn't allow drinking in Providence."
"It's none of Father John's business if I've been drinking, but it doesn't matter since the answer is no," Larabee said, fighting the nauseating feeling that washed over him.
"Sure looks like you're drunk...I'm going to call Tom and have him come pick you up. Maybe a night or two in the jail will make you abide by Father John's teachings."
"I don't give a damn about Father John!" Larabee snapped, as the world around him seemed to be spinning wildly. "Damn it!"
"That kind of language is frowned upon..."
"What the hell is this!" the blond shouted and staggered away from the truck.
"You just stay where you are until Tom gets here!" Landry warned and grabbed Larabee's arm. He landed hard on the ground and looked up into fierce green eyes set in a face that shone with anger.
"Don't touch me again!" Larabee warned and started back down the street. He shaded his eyes and cursed whatever was affecting his mind and body and hoped JD was okay. He heard the sound of bells in the distance and held his head, as the sound seemed to intensify with each step he took.
Chris had no idea how long it went on, but the sun beating down on him caused sweat to run down his cheeks and soaked the shirt until it clung to his back. He glanced up at the bright orb, blinking the sweat from his eyes even as he stumbled and fell to his knees.
"Father John blesses you...Father John blesses you...Father John blesses you..."
"Fuck Father John!" Larabee snarled as the words continued around him. He managed to climb to his feet and was surprised to find he was standing outside the gate of the B and B he was staying at.
"Mr. Larabee, are you all right?" Jane Constantine asked.
"Where's JD?" Larabee snarled and pushed past her.
"Who?"
"Look, Lady, I don't know what you people are doing, but I've seen the movie Stepford Wives and I'm not playing this game with you," Larabee spat and grabbed the handle of Dunne's door. He pushed it open and looked inside, recoiling when he found it empty. "JD, where are you?"
"Mr. Larabee..."
"Get the hell out of my way!"
"Father John..."
"I don't give a damn about Father John! Where's JD?"
"I'm afraid I have no idea who you're talking about!"
"JD...the kid I came in with. Where the hell is he?"
"You came in alone...have you been drinking?"
"Jane, Old Burt says you got troubles."
"Tom, praise be to Father John for sending you. I believe Mr. Larabee is drunk..."
"Lady I'm not drunk," Larabee said, cursing as his legs threatened to give out.
"Mr. Larabee, you need to come with me and sleep this off!" the cop ordered.
"Look, I'm looking for JD Dunne..."
"Who?" Willow asked seriously.
"The kid I came in with last night. You dropped us both off here."
"I dropped you off...only you!"
"I really don't give a damn for games and right now I just want to get JD and leave this fucking place!"
"Watch your mouth!"
"Look, if you're not going to help me then stay the fuck out of my way!"
"All right, that's enough!" Tom Willow said and drew his gun. "Put your hands behind your back..."
"Not a chance!" Larabee snarled and glared at the other man.
"Mr. Larabee, calm down. All I'm asking is for you to allow me to cuff you and bring you down to the station so you can sleep it off. Old Burt says he'll have your truck fixed by tonight and you'll be able to leave as long as you don't drink anything else that against Father John's..."
"I don't give a damn about anything Father John has to say. I mean to find JD and walk out of here if I have to!" the blond spat, crying out as something connected with the back of his head and he dropped to his knees.
"Forgive me," Jane Constantine said and touched the cross at her neck. "Father John frowns upon the use of violence, but I will do my penance as he orders."
Chris' arms were pulled behind him and he felt the cuffs locked into place. He struggled, but there didn't seem to be any strength left in his body as the cop dragged him from the house. There were over a dozen people standing outside the house and Chris tried to block out the words they were chanting.
"Father John blesses you...Father John forgives you...Father John will heal you and show you the path to true salvation..."
"Father John can go to hell!" Larabee spat as the door was slammed and Tom Willow sat behind the wheel of his car. Chris relaxed as the voices were silenced with the closing of the door, but his relief was short lived as Tom Willow loaded a CD into the car stereo and a strong voice played over the speakers.
"Repent and listen to my words, Children, for I will not allow the evil of the outside world to touch us in Providence..."
"Oh give me a break..."
"Be quiet, Mr. Larabee, and listen to the words of our savior," Willow warned.
Chris laid his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, wondering why he felt as if he'd been on a week long drinking binge and hoping that this was just someone's sick idea of a bad dream. "Where the hell are you, Kid?"
"Did you say something, Mr. Larabee?"
"Not a fucking thing," Larabee said and stared out at the homes as they passed. It suddenly dawned on him that there didn't seem to be anyone below the age of thirty, a fact that chilled him to the bone. "Where are the children?"
"They are studying the word of Father John as it has been ordained," Willow answered and glanced at the man in the rearview mirror. Larabee's face was dark with anger and his eyes flashed before looking out the window once more.
"JD," Larabee whispered and knew wherever this Father John was, JD Dunne was with him. The kid seemed to be just the right age to attract the self-proclaimed savior's attention, but the man would soon find out that he'd chosen the wrong people to screw with. He closed his eyes as they turned down another tree lined street and he saw nothing, but more of the same.
"Here we are, Mr. Larabee, now don't do anything stupid and you'll be on your way in no time," Willow warned and climbed out of the car. He pulled the back door open and stood away from the car as his prisoner exited and leaned drunkenly against the car. He knew the drug Father John had supplied Jane Constantine with would make the man feel as if he was punch drunk, but he was smart enough not to take any chances.
"You won't get away with this," Larabee vowed, his voice cold with anger.
"There is nothing to get away with, Mr. Larabee. You've simply had too much to drink and Father John has deemed it necessary to let you sleep it off before letting you be on your way," Willow explained. "Only true believers are allowed to stay in Providence."
"Then help me find JD and we'll leave you and Father John to each other," the blond yelled.
"I have no idea who this JD person is," the cop told him and motioned him toward the open door of the police station.
Chris knew he had no choice, but to obey because right now his body was not reacting the way it should. He felt cold and weak as he stumbled toward the door. He entered a well-kept office with a single desk against the back wall. A door stood to the right of the desk and Chris watched through blurred vision as Willow opened the door.
"Inside, Larabee, Father John has provided a soft bed for you to sober up on," Willow explained.
Chris had little choice, but to obey as his eyes refused to focus and the room seemed to twist in ways that made his head spin. There was no doubt in his mind that someone had slipped him something and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was Jane Constantine.
Chris lay back on the bed and closed his eyes as he thought about the trouble they were in. JD was missing, he had no idea how long, but the fact that this man refused to acknowledge the Bostonian's existence told him he'd get no help from the people of Providence. He heard the cop leave and rubbed at his temples in an effort to clear his mind, but sleep reached out for him and he lost consciousness.
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JD had no sense of time as he opened his eyes and stared up into a bright white light that threatened to blind him. He swallowed painfully and tried to loosen the strap across his mouth, but nothing seemed to work. His arms and legs were numb, and his head ached, but he could do nothing to stop the discomfort as the sound of footsteps reached him.
"Father John sends his blessings..."
"Let me go!" Dunne snarled once the tiny hands removed the strap from his mouth.
"Father John wishes to speak with you...it is an honor and a blessing to be chosen as a devout follower."
"Where's Chris?" JD spat.
"Blessings, John Daniel, it is time to learn what is true and holy in this world."
"Who are you people?"
"I am Father John and these are my followers. They know that true salvation rests in my hands and that God speaks to me and sends me those he believes are worthy of salvation."
"Yeah right...and I'm Santa Claus so where's the Easter Bunny?" Dunne snapped.
"Do not mock me, John Daniel," Father John said and nodded to someone JD couldn't see. "It is time to rid your mind and body of the sins of this world."
"What the hell is that?" Dunne asked when someone handed Father John a syringe filled with a clear liquid.
"It is something that will help you relax and allow you to truly listen to my words and know that I speak the gospel truth. I will show you that everything you have been told up to this point is a lie. You will repent and be forgiven your sins..."
"I don't need your forgiveness..."
"Father John is your savior...Father John will show you the way...repent and embrace his teachings for they are the one true calling..."
"Don't...no..." Dunne said as someone tapped at his exposed arm. He felt the tip of the needle enter his arm and swallowed several times as the helplessness of the situation made him angry. "Let me go, damn you!"
"Father John is the savior...Father John will show you the way...repent and embrace his teachings for they are the one true calling..."
JD felt as if his head was swimming as the man known as Father John injected the unknown drug into his arm. He knew he was in trouble when his heart began to beat faster and it felt like blood was rushing to his head.
"Father John is the savior...Father John will show you the way...repent and embrace his teachings for they are the one true calling..."
The words got louder as new bodies joined Father John around his bed. They leaned in over him constantly chanting the same words, their lips moving in perfect synchronicity and JD screamed as something touched against his groin.
"Father John is the savior...Father John will show you the way...repent and embrace his teachings for they are the one true calling..."
JD didn't know how long it went on or when things had changed for him, but the words were in his mind and his mouth began to move forming the words that continued to grow louder. "Father John is the savior...Father John will show you the way...repent and embrace his teachings..."
"Yes, my son, repent...deny the devil and his sins and embrace my teachings," Father John said and watched as Dunne's glazed eyes began to close. He knew this was only the beginning and that it would take several days to reprogram the young man, but he had the time and the patience to do what was needed. He looked at the others, dressed in white robes tied with a sash at the waist and thought about the wealth they'd brought him. The money was divided into several overseas accounts and would be there when he was ready to leave this behind him.
"Father John is the savior...Father John will show you the way...repent and embrace his teachings for they are the one true calling..."
"Yes, My Children, embrace the new order and live in the glory of my teachings and you will bask in the warmth of Divine Love," Father John said and reached for a dagger on the red velvet cushion held out to him by a young female follower. "We must spill the blood so that John Daniel's sins will be cleansed from his body."
"Cleanse our sins, Father John; cleanse our souls so that we will bask in your light..."
JD Dunne screamed as something sharp was pressed against his right side. His eyes shot open as blood flowed freely from the wound. He tried to turn his head, but it was held in place, and he gasped as the sharp-toothed blade sawed into his flesh.
"This is the cleansing rite, John Daniel, it must be carried out if you are to truly be cleansed of your sins," Father John said as the others continued with the new chant.
"Cleanse our sins, Father John; cleanse our souls so that we will bask in your light..."
"No...God..."
"Do not speak of God now, John Daniel, for you are full of the darkness and possessed of the devil's cravings," Father John told him and continued to press the blade deeper as blood pooled on the table. He knew exactly what he was doing and thought of the medical degree hanging on the wall of his office in LA. It must be covered in layers of dust by now and his wife had to be cursing him for taking everything and leaving her with nothing but the bills. Oh, he'd loved her at one time, but he enjoyed his freedom even more and had emptied what little savings they had before faking his own death and taking off. How he'd wound up in Providence he didn't know, but it hadn't taken him long to learn how to use his charismatic charm to make the young people look up to him and give him anything he wanted.
"Pl...please...stop..."
"You are a sinner, John Daniel...say it..."
"No...please...I'm not..."
"Sinners go to hell and feed the spawn of Satan...repent and allow Father John's teaching to warm you..."
"Let me go!" Dunne screamed, his body arching in spite of the restraints as Father John put more pressure on the dagger.
"Be still, My Son, for you will soon feel the warm rush of love flowing through your body along with your blood," Father John whispered.
JD found the tone hauntingly comforting and frowned when something was placed at his lips and he drank the sickly sweet liquid as if he'd been without water for days on end.
"This is my blood, John Daniel, and the fire burning through your veins is a sign that it is cleansing your sins..."
"Father John blesses you..."
"Father John blesses...you..." Dunne repeated weakly as darkness surrounded him and the voices continued to chant.
Father John moved away from the 'bed' and looked at one of his helpers, a man he'd known for years and who had gladly followed him on his new calling. "Don't let him sleep long...keep him confused and make sure you don't overdose him with the drug."
"I know what I'm doing, Jean Claud..."
"I told you not to call me that...it confuses my children," Father John warned.
"Sorry, Father John," Tyler Grodin said. He was well paid for this job, but there were times when he hated what he was doing.
"Keep him confused..."
"What if he asks about his friend?"
"Tell him he came here alone...but don't let him focus on that," Father John said as he watched his followers chanting over the semi-conscious JD Dunn.
"What made you decide to take him?" Grodin asked.
"He is young and unknown to anyone in Providence. I believe he will be a true test of my skills...if I can reprogram him then I can use this to program anyone I want to..."
"Including those in high places?" Grodin asked.
"Of course," Father John explained. "His friend is in jail?"
"As per your instructions."
"Good, see that he's kept there until I am ready for the final stage," Father John said before hurrying away. He knew Grodin would see that his orders were carried out, but for now his presence was not needed and there was a young woman waiting for him in his quarters.
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Chris licked at dry lips, coughed and turned on his side before sitting up. He didn't remember drinking, but he sure as hell felt like he had a hell of a hangover. Sunlight streamed in through the window, making his head hurt, but he fought the urge to lay back down and sleep. There was something he needed to do, someone he needed to find and Chris frowned when he realized he was in a jail cell.
"What the hell!" Larabee spat as he stood up and walked to the door. "Hey, what the hell is this?"
"Mr. Larabee, you were warned that Father John..."
"Sonofabitch...where the hell is JD?"
"There is no JD, Mr. Larabee..."
"Like hell there isn't! Open this damn door!"
"Father John wants you detained until he is ready for you."
"I don't give a fuck what Father John wants. Give me the fucking phone and..."
"You were warned about that kind of language..."
"Tom, is there a problem?"
"Yes, Father John," Tom Willow explained as the 'holy man' entered the room. "Mr. Larabee seems to enjoy using words that you have forbidden..."
"I don't know who the hell you are or what you're up to, but you won't get away with it!" Larabee snarled.
"Mr. Larabee, I am Father John and the town of Providence has seen the light. The people here understand what sins are and have chosen to stay in the light..."
"I don't give a damn what the people here do, but I will tell you this...JD Dunne came here with me..."
"Who is JD Dunne? I thought you said Mr. Larabee was alone, Tom."
"He was, Father John, but he was also drinking..."
"I see...drinking is prohibited in Providence, Mr. Larabee..."
"I wasn't drinking..."
"You were staggering and it sure smelled like the devil's juice on your breath," Willow spat..
"How did you get here, Mr. Larabee?"
"I drove here...with JD Dunne," the irate blond answered.
"I think he's still drunk," the cop said.
"How long has he been in here, Tom?" Father John asked.
"Since this morning...he was at the garage and Old Burt called me to say he thought he was drunk. I caught up with him at Jane Constantine's house and he was acting like he'd been on a real bender," Tom explained.
"Jane Constantine has a lot to answer for," Larabee snarled.
"Jane answers to me, Mr. Larabee, not to outsiders who bring only the devil's temptations," Father John warned softly. "Why was he at the garage?"
"His truck broke down and Old Burt was going to take a look at it."
"Can he fix it?"
"He's working on it, but it could be a few days before he gets it running," Willow answered.
"See that Mr. Larabee is treated well during his stay, but I do not want him influencing my people, so keep him locked..."
"You have no right..."
"I have every right, Mr. Larabee, this town believes in the power of good and does not need your kind ruining what we have strived to achieve," Father John said and turned to leave.
"I don't give a damn about your town, John..."
"Father John!" Willow declared.
"I do care about JD Dunne and I know he's here. I don't have a clue why you're keeping him from me, but I will find him and when I do I'll come after you and show you what hell is!" Larabee warned.
"Keep him locked up and away from my followers," Father John ordered.
"Open the fucking door!" the blond snarled, but the man had already escaped through the door.
"Father John is a forgiving man, Mr. Larabee, but you might want to pray for his help in absolving you of your sins..."
"That's what God is for, not some pompous ass..." Chris cursed when Tom brought his nightstick down across his knuckles. "Sonofabitch!"
"I'll bring you your meals, but other than that you'll be on your own. I don't need, nor will I listen to that language."
"You people can't..." Larabee grew quiet as the cop left and closed the door behind him. Chris grabbed at the bars and cursed in frustration when he was met by nothing but silence. He looked at his injured hand, working his fingers until he was sure nothing was broken.
Chris Larabee had never been a patient man, and his anger intensified at the hopelessness of the situation he found himself in. JD was missing, he was locked in jail, and there was a self-proclaimed savior who seemed to have the town wrapped around his finger. Then there was the mystery of the missing young people and the town people's indifference to it.
Chris moved to the cot and sat down wondering how long it would be before the rest of the team decided to search for him and JD. They'd left the conference early and weren't due back for another two days, but if he knew his team they would be calling him for something, anything, just to make sure things were running smoothly.
"All right, Vin, let's hope that weird science thing you and I have going doesn't fail me now," Larabee whispered, rubbing at his temples as the headache returned with a vengeance.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Buck paced the confines of the small living room and silently cursed the case they were supposed to testify in. The judge was a stickler for details and wanted them kept away from the media and anything that could influence their testimonies. Nathan and Josiah were also being kept apart, leaving them with only a few books and several used DVD movies to watch.
Buck had quickly gotten bored with the same old movies and sleep was something he never did in a strange bed...unless he was well sated and had a warm body curled up against him. There was no indication that anything was moving with the case and Buck had a feeling he could be stuck here until he was old and gray.
The only good thing about this stay was the food. He could order anything he wanted and so far he hadn't been disappointed in his choice. The steak he'd had for dinner was seared to perfection and served with baked potato and corn on the cob slathered in butter. He could hear Nathan complaining about clogging his arteries, but Buck had never been a man to worry about stuff like that when there was the real threat of a bullet out there with his name on it.
Wilmington thought about Chris Larabee and JD Dunne and wondered if the blond had used duct tape to keep the enthusiastic Bostonian quiet for a while. He knew the youngest member of the team had a tendency to tell jokes that made them all cringe, but that didn't mean he hadn't earned their respect. Dunne was one hell of a genius where computers were concerned and with Ezra Standish as his partner there wasn't a computer around that they couldn't get into.
Buck moved to the sofa and lay down as he flicked on the TV and began watching the remake of King Kong. He closed his eyes and tried to forget where he was and that he was a virtual prisoner and silently wished he could change places with Chris Larabee or JD Dunne.
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"Do you remember what you have to do, Vin?" Ezra Standish asked of the man who looked out of place in the Armani suit, yet it looked perfectly tailored for his lean body.
"Hate these damn monkey suits!" Tanner said and tried to adjust the tie.
"These monkey suits are worth more money than you make in a month," Standish said.
"What gives ya that idea?" Tanner asked with a grin.
"Come now, Vin, we both know Travis is generous, but he's not that generous."
"Maybe not ta you, but he likes me," the Texan teased before growing serious once more. "What time do we meet with Nicholson?"
"He's expecting us at eight tonight at his home. Once he confirms that you and I are indeed who we claim to be then the next step is arranging for the transfer of funds into his account and absconding with the weapons before Nicholson realizes he's been duped."
"He ain't gonna be happy..."
"Since when has that stopped us?" Standish asked and adjusted his partner's tie. "As Mothah would say, 'appearances are everything'."
"Yer mother says a lot of things that don't make a lick of sense," Tanner said as they exited the house and made their way to the rented silver BMW. "My turn ta drive, Ez."
"Bite your tongue, Vin..."
"Hey, you're supposed ta be the big buyer...makes me the chauffeur...fancy dress code we got," Tanner said and climbed into the driver's seat.
"You get one scratch on this car and it comes out of your salary."
"Long's it ain't comin' out of my hide," the Texan said and happily slid the keys into the ignition.
"I doubt that would come close to compensation," Standish blustered and made sure his seat belt was fastened as the Texan literally put the pedal to the medal.
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JD had lost track of how many times a needle was pushed into his arm, but each time he opened his eyes a man dressed in a white robe with soft blue eyes spoke to him. The words were spoken in the same tone while around him there were others who chanted softly, promising peace and joy should he simply embrace Father John's promise of a holy life filled with warmth and love.
"Father John is the one true savior...Father John will show us the way..."
"Father John will show us the way," Dunne whispered softly, frowning when he realized the words had come from him.
"Hello, John Daniel, how do you feel?"
"Father John is my savior..."
"That is correct, John Daniel, I am your savior and I will keep you safe from the evil that surrounds us and tries to draw us into its evil."
"Father John is the one true savior...Father John will show us the way..."
"Show me the way...Please, Father John...show me the way..."
"I will, John Daniel, but first you must denounce everything you were taught by Satan's followers for they will try to take you back. Will you go with them, John Daniel?"
"I don't know...please...please no more," Dunne whimpered as a needle was jabbed into his arm and his body shook convulsively.
"Father John is the one true Savior...Father John will show us the way..."
"You must stop fighting me, John Daniel..."
"Please it hurts..."
"Father John is the one true Savior...Father John will show us the way..."
"I can make the pain stop, John Daniel, but not until you surrender yourself to me and join us..."
"Where...where's Chris...he'll help me..."
"Father John is the one true Savior...Father John will show us the way..."
"Chris is one of Satan's demons, John Daniel. He will try to make you follow him into hell! You do not want that do you, John Daniel?"
"No...Chris wouldn't...Chris is..."
"Chris is not who you believe he is, John Daniel...until you admit that the pain will continue. Embrace my teachings and come into the light of salvation..."
"Father John is the one true Savior...Father John will show us the way..."
"No!" Dunne shook his head as the chanting grew louder and faces floated above him. He was cold, so damn cold and every breath he took felt like ice water in his lungs.
Father John moved away from the bed and looked at his watch. Things were going according to plan, but JD Dunne was proving stronger than he thought possible. The drugs in his system would continue to cause him pain and bring some frightening hallucinations, but they would also keep him from thinking clearly until the time was right. He thought about the man in the jail and realized he would be JD Dunne's test. It would all come to a chilling conclusion if he could program the young man into killing Chris Larabee.
"Tyler, see that he is kept disoriented."
"Yes, Jean...Father John," Grodin corrected quickly.
"We may need to get rid of the truck and eventually I want Chris Larabee brought here and all traces of his and John Daniel's presence erased," the older man explained, smiling as two young men walked past him. "Bright blessings, My Children."
"Bright Blessings, Father John," they said as one, eyes glassy as if under the influence of heavy drugs.
"We don't even know who they are," Grodin said.
"It does not matter...John Daniel will be my final test. If this works then there are people who will pay for my services," Father John told him.
"What about these people?"
"What about them?" Father John asked. "They are but a means to an end...nothing else. Oh, believe me I am very pleased with the gifts they have given me, but the money is the only thing that means anything to me. We should have everything we need to prove the success of our project within a couple of weeks and then we will leave."
"Do we just leave these people here?"
"No, I'm afraid a lot of people will die by ritualistic suicide," Father John told him before leaving the room.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Nathan knew he was getting nowhere as he read the page for the fifth time and still had no idea what was written there. He closed his eyes and thought about Rain Goines and wished he was wrapped in her loving arms. That would not happen until he testified at the trial, and from the way things were going that could be days or worse, weeks.
Nathan stood up and walked toward the door leading out onto the balcony overlooking the city and breathed deeply of the cool night air. The lights were slowly going off as people retired for the night, but for him, sleep was a fleeting thing whenever he stayed in a strange room.
Jackson thought about the case and the grueling days leading up to the arrest of a monster in the form of a man. The man had murdered several girls from the local college and although their testimony would put the man away, he had friends who wanted him to be cleared of the charges.
Jackson knew the case was clear cut, but the judge had wanted them secure and unable to speak with anyone about what they knew and how they'd gathered the evidence. There'd also been several threats against, his, Buck, and Josiah's lives and that meant being incommunicado until further notice.
Nathan wondered how things were going in the case that Vin and Ezra were working on. The last time he'd spoken with them they were getting ready to meet with Nicholson for the first time. That was nearly two weeks ago and since then he'd been in solitary confinement, although this place was a lot more comfortable than the prison's solitary confinement. That was where the murderer was sitting while waiting his time in court.
With a reluctant sigh, Nathan made his way back inside and lay down on the bed. He let his mind drift and hoped sleep would come because otherwise it was going to be a long frustrating night.
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Josiah reached for the dog-eared Bible he'd brought with him and opened it to his favorite scripture. He'd made several notations on small pieces of papers and each one marked a special place in the Book once owned by his father. The patriarch of his family had been a bible-toting missionary in South Africa and Josiah remembered accompanying him on several missions of mercy as a young man of 16.
His father had a strong voice that carried the threat of 'Fire and Brimstone' to new heights and Josiah remembered seeing many a frightened face at the meetings held in an open field. There'd been many people there, most of them not understanding a word his father said, yet there was very real fear in their eyes when the talk turned to 'Satan' and 'Hell'.
Josiah thought about the ways his life had changed since his father's death. It had hurt, but not as badly as he thought it would because by then their relationship had deteriorated so badly they weren't on speaking terms. He loved his father, but what the man had done to Hannah had been the last straw and had opened a chasm so deep it was impossible to cross. Hannah would never be the same and it was getting harder and harder to see her at the convent.
Josiah thought about the choice he'd made and whether it would have been better to lock her in a sanitarium, but the convent had offered a chance for her to have some freedom and be allowed to walk in gardens filled with flowers and even help plant and seed the gardens surrounding the ornate stone building. The last time he'd visited with her she'd actually smiled at him, but he knew she didn't really know who he was or why he'd come to see her.
Josiah sighed and thought about the men he worked with and how they'd become a surrogate family to him. A band of seven brothers, so different, yet so alike that they fought for justice side by side and showed a united front that could be bent, but never broken. Chris Larabee had chosen his team well, and together they'd solved cases that had perplexed the law for many years.
Josiah thought about the man they were testifying against. There was no way Adam Rider would go free, not if his, Buck, and Nathan's testimonies were allowed. The man deserved the death penalty, and although Josiah knew only God could forgive the man's actions, he silently said a prayer for those who'd suffered from Rider's murder spree.
Josiah closed the Bible and wondered how Chris Larabee was handling himself with JD Dunne as his only companion. The Firm's leader had been pressed into attending a computer 'geek' conference with the youngest member of the team. Although Chris was not well known for tact and diplomacy or patience, he'd always managed to make an exception where his team was concerned.
Sanchez reached for the empty cup of coffee and glanced at the clock over the television. It was too early to go to bed, but there was very little else to do so he grabbed the deck of cards Ezra had given him and shuffled them.
"The name of the game is...solitaire," he whispered.
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Vin pulled the BMW to a stop in a parking spot next to a dark blue Jaguar and exited the car with a heavy sigh as he glanced at the other vehicles. Each one was an expensive piece of hardware that was way out of his price range and he leaned against Ezra's BMW as he straightened his tie.
"Are you ready, Vin?"
"No, but let's get this over with," Tanner said and walked alongside the Southerner until they reached the door of the upscale mansion located on the west side of Billings. He reached out and pressed the doorbell, not surprised when an older man dressed in a monkey suit similar to the one he wore answered it.
"Can I help you?" the man asked.
"Mr. Nicholson is expecting us," Standish said.
"Your names?"
"My name is Peter Germaine and this is my associate Alex Purcell," Standish answered.
"Please come in...Mr. Nicholson and his associates are waiting for you...this way," Giles Brodie explained.
Vin looked around as they made their way through the open foyer and quickly made their way along a hallway, bypassing several rooms furnished with expensive antiques. There were pictures on the wall and Vin smiled at the way Ezra seemed to be awestruck by the paintings that were unfamiliar to him.
Giles Brodie knocked on the door and pushed it open when his employer bade him to enter. "Mr. Germaine and Mr. Purcell have arrived."
"Show them in, Giles," Donald Nicholson ordered as he handed a second man a glass of Scotch.
"I must say I admire your taste in artwork, Mr. Nicholson," Standish said upon shaking hands with the man.
"Thank you, Mr. Germaine...that seems so formal...would it be all right if we were on a first name basis? After all we have a lot of business to discuss," Nicholson said.
"Of course, Donald," Standish said.
"Very well, I'd like you to meet a couple of my associates. This is Carl and Joan Oberon and they are here to help facilitate our arrangements," Nicholson explained and waited until they shook hands before motioning the newcomers to vacant chairs. "Would you like something to drink?"
"Whatever you're having is fine, but my associate would prefer a Heineken," Standish told him and knew Vin was fighting to keep from blurting out what he really wanted.
"Is your friend always so talkative," Joan Oberon asked.
"He can be when he's got something to say, but mostly he allows me to handle our business dealings," Standish answered.
"Yes, well Donald tells us you're interested in making a substantial purchase," Carl Oberon said.
"I am hoping you can supply what I desire," the Southerner said.
"Weapons and explosive are our specialty," Joan told him.
"Donald assured me you only deal in the best," Standish said.
"He speaks the truth...exactly how much money are you willing to spend?" Carl asked.
"It depends on what you have to offer," Ezra answered.
"Barrett REC7- M468 -Assault Rifle for starters," Joan said and motioned toward the crate on a table in the corner.
"Could my associate take a look?" Standish asked.
"Certainly," Joan answered and moved to open the sealed crate.
"Alex has forgotten more about weapons than I'll ever know," Ezra explained as the crate was opened and the Texan reached in to take one. He watched Vin's face for any sign that would tell him what he wanted to know, but Tanner's face was unreadable as he checked out the rifle.
"I'm sure he will be pleased with these weapons," Nicholson said as he refilled the empty glasses before returning to his seat. He watched as Oberon and Purcell examined the weapons before Joan closed and locked the crate once more.
"Alex, how do they look?" Standish asked.
"Top of the line," Tanner answered simply and drank from the bottle of Heineken.
"Excellent, how many can you deliver?" Standish asked.
"How many do you want?" Nicholson asked.
"As many as you can get me. I have several clients who are willing to pay top dollar for merchandise of this caliber," the Southerner explained.
"No pun intended I'm sure," Joan offered with a grin.
"We can deliver fifty by tomorrow night...probably a hundred more by the end of the week," Carl offered.
"I guess that leaves us with only one pressing matter," Standish said.
"What would that be?" Nicholson asked with a grin.
"The price..."
"The usual...your soul," Joan Oberon offered.
"I'm afraid my soul was lost a long time ago, but if that's what you want then it is yours for the rifles and any future products you can get your hands on," Standish assured her.
"I'll take it, but I'm afraid my clients would not be satisfied with just your soul...they have affixed a certain monetary value to the rifles," Joan explained.
Vin sat back and listened as Ezra haggled with Nicholson and his associates about the price of the stolen weaponry. It was something he had little interest in and he wondered whether Chris and JD would make it back to town before the final phase of this deal went down. He trusted Ezra, but right now there was just the two of them because Buck, Nathan, and Josiah were all out of commission until the trial was over.
Ezra knew Vin was listening to everything that was being said, but he also understood the Texan was worried that they were on their own this time. With the others out of commission, it was a dangerous undertaking to go after this organization, but they couldn't wait for backup if they wanted to bring Nicholson and the Oberons down. With a silent prayer that nothing would go wrong, Ezra smiled and joined in the conversation while Vin simply watched them and kept silent unless specifically asked a question.
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Chris looked at the food disinterestedly and stood up. He had no way of knowing how much time had passed since he and JD had arrived in Providence, but he figured it had to be at least two, possibly three days. During that time someone had managed to take his watch, wallet, and anything else that could identify him as Chris Larabee. The only ones he'd spoken to since being thrown in this cell were Father John and Tom Willow.
Father John had only been in once and Chris remembered the man denying the existence of JD Dunne. That angered him, because with the passing of time something was happening to the youngest member of his team and he had no way of knowing what that was. They'd denied ever having seen JD and refused to allow him access to a phone and no amount of cursing or anger could get them to change their minds.
Time had no meaning for him, except that he woke periodically to stabbing pain in his head and a bitter dryness in his throat. It hadn't taken long for him to realize either the food or water or possibly both were being drugged and the last few meals had gone untouched. Chris longed for a shot of whiskey or an ice cold beer, but that too would be drugged and he had to keep his wits about him.
"Is there a problem with the food, Mr. Larabee?" Willow asked, keeping a safe distance from the cell as the blond turned toward him.
"Not with the food..."
"Then why don't you eat? You must be hungry by now?"
"The problem is whatever you're using to flavor it...seems to have quite the kick to it," the blond snapped.
"It's just a local spice..."
"I bet...and I'm betting it's only for special guests."
"Would you like some water?"
"Only if it's bottled and unopened," Larabee answered.
"I'm sorry, but Father John does not allow anything that's been manufactured..."
"Father John's an idiot and you people are stupid to let him tell you what you can and can't do!"
"I am sorry you feel that way...slide the tray through the slot, Mr. Larabee."
"Come and get it..."
"Move away from the door," Willow ordered and turned as a second man entered.
"Problems, Tom?"
"Not at all, Joseph," Willow said and motioned with his gun. "Mr. Larabee isn't hungry, but he's being stubborn about sliding his tray out."
"Move back from the door, Mr. Larabee," Joseph Boudreau ordered.
"Go to hell!" the blond snapped.
"Father John has assured us of our place in Heaven while sinners like you burn in hell!" Boudreau vowed.
"Father John is Satan..."
"Watch what you say, Mr. Larabee, or you'll find yourself exposed to hell!"
"Easy, Joseph, just leave him alone and he can keep the tray until he decides to eat it. In this heat it won't take long for it to go bad," Willow said and turned away form the cell.
Chris could only watch the two men, but he grabbed the tray and threw it against the bars, spilling food and coffee across the floor. He saw Willow turn toward him and couldn't help, but smile at the anger in the man's face.
"You'll clean that up, Larabee," Willow warned, angered when the prisoner went back to the cot and lay back with a smug look on his face. "I said clean it up!"
"Leave him alone, Tom, Father John doesn't want anything happening to him until the time is right," Joseph warned and led the other man away from the cell.
Chris tried to make sense out of what he had heard, but there was nothing that made any sense in this town. He closed his eyes and hoped the other members of The Firm would be searching for him and JD.
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"John Daniel..."
"Please, no m...more," JD cried as horrific images plagued him. He had no idea where he was or who these people were, but he knew he was in pain and only one man could ease that. Only one man could save him from his sins. "Please...I need t...to see h...him..."
"See who, John Daniel?"
JD cried out as the face swam before him, swimming in a sea of crimson red that smelled of blood and caused his stomach to churn. He knew this man...this creature had a name, and when it appeared to him, JD felt pain. "Please...Father John...where...where is he?"
"Father John does not speak with sinners, John Daniel..." Grodin said, pleased with the effects of the mask and lighting on the drugged young man. He knew the last few days were a continual nightmare for JD Dunne and that it would continue until he denounced everything he'd seen and felt before being 'saved' by Father John.
"Please...not...not a sinner...Father John...please hear me...please..." There was a sharp pain in his arm and he cried out as the images swirled in an eerie array of kaleidoscopic displays that jolted his already tumultuous stomach and left him gasping for air.
"Sinners are everywhere, John Daniel, and you must denounce them and everything they represent. You must follow what is in your heart and embrace my teachings as your own. You must never do anything to disgrace my followers or me. You must rid yourself of all worldly goods and live the life you were meant to have. Do you understand, John Daniel?"
"Yes, Father John...I under...understand...please stop the p...pain...please st...stop them..."
"I will, My Son, when you have proved yourself as a true believer, but for now I'm afraid there are still sins to repent...I will leave you with a prayer that your soul is well and truly purified in the sanctity of the true follower..."
"No, please....don't go...don't let them...don't let them hurt me any...anymore!" JD screamed as a needle entered his arm and his body arched upward as the hallucinogenic drug raced through his system.
"Father John is the one true savior...Father John will set you free...Chris Larabee is..."
"Where? God...where is Chris...he'll help m...me..."
"Only Father John can help you, John Daniel, but you have to want it and you have to prove your loyalty to him when the time comes," Grodin said and continued to keep the young man from the rest his body and mind craved. He saw tears escape from Dunne's eyes and knew it wouldn't be long before John Daniel was a true believer and follower of Father John.
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Orin Travis looked up as Vin Tanner and Ezra Standish joined him in his office. The two men had called to arrange a meeting to update him on the case they were working on. The former judge was not happy with having these two agents working a case without backup, but there was no choice if they wanted to bring Nicholson and the Oberons down.
"Have a seat," Travis offered and wondered how much sleep the two men had gotten during the last few weeks. He knew how hard it was to work cases like this where they had to pretend they were as bad as the lowlifes they were in business with. Without a word he opened the top drawer and pulled out a bottle of the finest Scotch and poured a shot in three glasses before handing one to each man.
"Orin has there been any word from Chris or JD?" Tanner asked.
"They were taking the scenic route home," Travis explained. Larabee knew they were working the Nicholson case, but he had no idea the Oberons were involved or he would have pulled the plug on it until the others were available for backup. "I didn't tell them about the Oberons, Vin."
"Good, Larabee needs some down time."
"He'll probably need a vacation after this trip with JD," Standish said.
"The kid's probably talked his ears off," the Texan said. "Any idea when they'll be back?"
"I guess it depends..."
"I tried callin' 'em, but it says their cell phones..."
"Vin, if they're driving through the mountains they wouldn't have cell phone reception," Standish reminded him.
"I know," Tanner said and sighed heavily.
"Vin, we need you to concentrate on this case," Travis explained.
"I'm in, Orin," the Texan said seriously.
"Glad to hear it, so tell me what's happening," Travis ordered.
"There's a meet set up for tomorrow evening at a warehouse owned by Nicholson," Standish told him. "If all goes according to plan the Oberons will deliver fifty Barrett REC7- M468 -Assault Rifles..."
"Fifty...that's a hell of a lot of hardware," Travis said.
"With a promise for a hundred more by the end of the week," the gambler explained.
"Sonofabitch!" Travis spat. "We need to find out who their supplier is and stop them!"
"It's possible that the Oberons have inside help or they could be finding other ways of appropriating the weapons before they've been inventoried by the military," Standish observed.
"Military security measures are supposed to be..."
"What they are supposed to be and what they are is a completely different story," Standish offered. "I know of several militia groups who have infiltrated the military and absconded with several highly developed military secrets. Most have been discovered, but I am sure there are several organizations that managed to stay in operation."
"We need to see that they are shut down," Travis told them.
"If Nicholson and the Oberons are shut down it could send a warning to the other groups that we will not back down," the gambler explained.
"Just make damn sure it's not at the cost of your lives," the former judge warned.
"We shall do our best," Standish assured him.
"I don't like having to send you two in without back up..."
"Ain't got much choice," Tanner told him.
"I've spoken with Captain Miller and he assures me he will have his men ready to move in as soon as you give the signal," Travis told them.
"Ain't gonna wear wires...Nicholson will check for 'em," Tanner said.
"I know and I agreed to that, but I'm sure you two will find a way to get word out if you run into problems," the former judge said. "Make sure I have updated information before the final buy tomorrow night."
"We will, Orin," Standish said and silently wished the rest of the team was there to back them up.
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Chris stood by the door of his cell and checked his pockets for anything he could use to pick the lock, but gave up when he found them empty. He knew Willow must have removed everything during the time he'd been drugged and vowed he'd find a way out of this mess. His thoughts turned to JD Dunne and he wondered what they were doing to him. He knew whatever it was it was not good and hoped he could get to the younger man before Father John had a chance to hurt him. Something told him it was already too late and that JD was suffering at the hands of the self-proclaimed cultist.
Chris' frustration and anger grew with each tick of the clock and he hoped the guys were already searching for them. He knew that was probably not the case because Buck, Josiah, and Nathan were involved in a rough court case, while Ezra and Vin were working on bringing down Donald Nicholson.
Larabee returned to the bed and lay down with his fingers laced behind his head. He tried to think of a way out of this mess, but so far there was no way. He hoped wherever JD was he would be able to escape and go for help. Deep down he knew this was not the case because Father John did not strike him as the type to allow his 'followers' to escape. Chris wondered why this town had fallen into Father John's trap and knew whatever it was they'd all need help once they were out from under his influence.
Chris heard movement outside his cell, but refused to acknowledge whoever it was. He knew they were bringing him food, but it would remain untouched because experience told him it was laced with some kind of drug. Whatever was happening, Chris knew he needed to keep his mind clear and watch for an opportunity to escape.
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Father John knew it would soon be time to push JD Dunne across the final plateau and make him see the 'light'. The hours of chanting by his 'sacred followers' and the use of drugs and sleep deprivation would go a long way to reaching his goal for the young man. There were several open wounds that would need tending, but none of them were detrimental to his health. John Daniel would live and worship the ground his 'savior' walked on.
Chris Larabee would be the final catalyst that would prove his teachings were just and true. It would prove to his clients, both old and new that his theories would work beyond anything they'd ever imagined. It was time to see just how close they were to that final act of violence that would push JD Dunne across the threshold.
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JD had never felt so lost and alone in his life and craved the touch of anything familiar as his body convulsed on the bed. The restraints held him in place, insuring that he could not escape as Father John reached out and placed a hand on his forehead and began to speak softly.
"John Daniel, it will soon be time to complete your cleansing and show you how to embrace everything that is good. Do you wish to be cleansed?"
"Yes...please, Father John...please..."
Father John smiled as he watched bloodied spittle escape the corners of his new convert's mouth and reached for a soft tissue before wiping it away. He gently massaged the young man's temples while signaling for Grodin to inject the drugs into his arm.
"Please...you said you'd help m...me..."
"I am going to help you, John Daniel, but first you must help me."
"How...anything...please just make it...make it stop."
"Only you can make it stop, John Daniel..."
"How?"
"You need to prove that you are a true believer, that you are as devout as my other followers. That you are ready and willing to do anything for me and what I represent," Father John said as he pressed a scalpel against his victim's abdomen with enough force to bring blood to the surface. He knew the drugs and lack of sleep would go a long way toward enhancing the pain until JD Dunne would promise to say and do anything to make it stop.
"Please...no more...no more."
Father John smiled as Dunne fought against the restraints and his body shook convulsively. They were so close now and he knew it would not be long before John Daniel would stand with the other followers and obey his every command. "Soon, John Daniel, very soon I will make it all stop and you will be given the opportunity to show your loyalty."
"Please...I can't...I'm tired...so tired..."
"You will be allowed to sleep soon, John Daniel, but not yet...not until the time is right," Father John said and moved away as Grodin took over and continued to torture the young man's mind and body. He smiled as Dunne's screams echoed through the hollow chamber as the chanting continued outside the room. It was time to bring Chris Larabee to the commune and force his newest student over the edge.
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Buck sighed tiredly and hoped his testimony today was the final nail in Adam Rider's coffin. He wondered how much longer he'd be kept separated from the other witnesses and wished he could talk to someone beside himself. He was growing tired of looking at the four walls and watching the same old movies over and over.
The way things were going he'd be stuck in here until hell froze over with nothing but his own voice to keep him company. The hour spent in the courtroom giving his testimony had simply brought home the fact that he was just as much a prisoner as Rider. It pissed him off because at least Rider had other criminals to talk to which was more than he had.
Buck reached for one of the well-read books on the shelf, but had no real interest in reading. He leafed through the pages of a week old magazine and threw it disinterestedly across the room before standing and striding to the window. He knew if this kept up much longer he would go stir crazy and prayed the trial would be over soon.
Buck thought about Chris Larabee and JD Dunne and hoped the younger man had not driven Larabee crazy with his stupid one liners. The kid had a habit of talking his ear off and Chris had a reputation of speaking maybe three words on a good day. Buck smiled at that description, because the truth was Larabee could fire both barrels when he thought it was needed. How many times had the Firm's leader lambasted someone who thought the team had done something wrong?
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Chris knew he must have dozed off and opened his eyes when he heard a sound outside his cell. He spotted the man who had the town under his control and stood up. Anger flared in his green eyes as a smile formed on Father John's face. "Where's JD?"
"It is time, Mr. Larabee," Father John told him.
"Time for what?" the blond snarled.
"Time to prove that sinners receive their punishment before God and his children."
"You know nothing about God," Larabee said as Willow stepped toward the cell door and a second man pointed a gun at him.
"Now, Mr. Larabee, I dislike violence and the sight of blood makes me queasy so please don't do anything that will get you shot..."
"That wouldn't look good with the people of this town would it, John..."
"That's Father John, Mr. Larabee!" Willow warned.
"What's he done to you people..."
"He has shown us the way to salvation," the unknown man answered.
"How much money is he charging you for 'salvation'?" Larabee spat the final word in disgust.
"Father John has not asked for our money. He only wishes to teach our children..."
"Teach? I don't think that's the right word."
"What would you call it?" Father John asked.
"Brainwashing comes to mind," Larabee answered. "You've done something to these people to keep them in line..."
"I have simply shown them that God's light shines through me..."
"A self-proclaimed maniac with delusions of Godhood," the blond said.
"Turn around, Mr. Larabee," Willow ordered.
"Go to hell!"
"Hell is for sinners like you," Father John said and motioned for Willow to open the door as he took the gun and pointed it at the prisoner. "Now, you will do exactly as I say or in spite of how distasteful I find it I will put a bullet in your leg. If you cooperate then perhaps you will get to see John Daniel..."
"Where the hell is JD? What did you do to him?"
"He is learning to accept me and through me he will be wrapped in God's embrace."
"You know nothing about God," Larabee said as Willow stepped into the cell and pulled his arms behind his back before securing a set of handcuffs around his wrists. He fought the urge to lash out because he needed to keep his wits about him and find JD before it was too late. He thought about the youngest member of his team and silently prayed Dunne was all right, but something about Father John chilled him to the bone.
"All right, Mr. Larabee, it's time to go," Willow said and motioned for the captive to follow him out. Father John had returned the gun to Joseph Boudreau and Willow knew what was expected of him.
Chris followed the 'cop' out, his eyes raking over the gun in the other man's hand, before turning his attention to Father John. Something about the man set his nerves on edge, but he had no time to act as Boudreau kicked the back of his leg and he stumbled forward. Willow grabbed him and shoved him down as the cult leader knelt at his side. Chris caught sight of a needle and renewed his efforts to escape, but it was too little...too late as Father John shoved the needle into his arm.
Larabee fought, but soon felt whatever drug he'd been given take effect. His vision blurred and he tried to fight the lethargy creeping along his nerves, but darkness reached for him as Willow and the other man released him.
"Put him in my car."
"Yes, Father John," Willow said. He grabbed Larabee's right arm while Boudreau grabbed his left and they dragged the semi-conscious captive from the station.
"Good afternoon, Sister Veronica," Father John greeted the elderly woman who stood watching them. The woman had been against everything he was doing, but her daughter and son-in-law had been keeping her in hand.
"What are you doing with that man?" Veronica Parkinson asked.
"He is not feeling well and we are bringing him to visit my personal physician," Father John explained.
"Sure you are....where are my grandchildren, John?"
"Mrs. Parkinson, Father John has already explained where the children are and he is teaching them the word of God," Willow said while helping Boudreau put Larabee in the back seat.
"Father John, what have you done with the children?" the elderly woman asked, disgust evident in her tone.
"The children are safe and learning the secrets of the Bible..."
"The Bible has no secrets...it does not need to hide anything unlike you..."
"Mrs. Parkinson..."
"You will not get away with it...someone is bound to realize what you're really doing here," Veronica said and turned her back on the men. There had to be some way for her to get word out, but the phones no longer worked and no one seemed willing to drive her beyond the town.
"Make sure she does not leave," Father John warned and got behind the wheel.
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Veronica Parkinson heard the car drive away and glanced over her shoulder at the two men who stood outside the police station. She laughed at what a joke that was now because the only law in Providence came from 'Father John'. The town had once been a place she was proud to call home, but in the last two years 'Father John' had reshaped everything that she'd once loved. She knew she was not alone, but what could she and the others her age do to change things? They could not fight, not when the young people were prisoners in the commune outside Providence.
Veronica leaned heavily on her cane and walked away from the two men who'd fallen into 'Father John's' trap. Perhaps if she and the others her age could convince even one member of the town that this was wrong they could get outside help. There had to be something they could do to help the children 'Father John' held captive in his commune.
Veronica remembered going to the meetings and seeing the children who ranged in age from 5 to 25, but there was no sign of children under the age of five and that worried her. What had the cultists, for that's what they were, done to them? Were they being held somewhere in the commune as a way of keeping their parents and siblings in line? Or did the lack of younger children mean something more insidious? God, she hoped not because it would mean the loss of her own precious granddaughter. Tears filled her eyes, but she fought them back and knew she would fight for what was right...fight for her granddaughter.
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Nathan looked up when a knock sounded on his door. Normally it only happened when it was time for meals or he was needed in the courtroom. He glanced at his watch and noted the time as a little after four in the afternoon and that was too early for dinner and too late for court. He took a deep breath, walked over and opened the door to find the assistant district attorney standing there with the bailiff from the court.
"Nathan, how would you like to go home tomorrow morning?" Janet Lakefield said with a smile.
"What's happened?" Jackson asked.
"After hearing your testimony and those of several other witnesses the jury brought down a guilty verdict on all counts. The official word will come down tomorrow morning, so until then you, Buck, and Josiah are still guests of the city. I arranged for a bottle of Champagne to accompany dinner. I believe Buck and Josiah will be joining you unless you'd rather eat alone?"
"No, I'd rather have some company that actually talks back. I was getting tired of winning all the arguments against myself," Jackson teased.
"I'm sure the others feel the same way," Janet said with a grin. "I'll see you tomorrow when the judge passes sentence."
"I'm glad the sonofabitch will be off the streets for good," the medic told her.
"I'm sure a lot of people will breathe easier knowing he's locked up," Lakefield agreed, shaking the man's hand before following the bailiff from the room.
Nathan walked to the window and looked out over the city and knew there were still dangerous predators on the streets, but at least one animal would not be walking in darkness in search of prey. He thought of Rain Goines and the attack that had nearly taken her from him, but she'd proven herself stronger than any of them realized when she'd faced down her would be rapist and helped send him to prison.
Nathan could almost feel her arms around him and knew it wouldn't be long before he held her and made love slowly, provocatively as they had so many times in the past. God, he loved Rain beyond anything he'd ever known before and knew it was time to take things a step further. It was time to set a date and marry the woman who owned his heart, now and forever.
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"How is he?" Father John asked upon entering the room and hearing the weak cries from his newest subject. At least a dozen of his followers were in the room, circling the bed and chanting in a hypnotic tone with no change in the words or the inflection. JD Dunne's mouth moved, but the words were garbled as he forced them past an arid throat and dry, cracked lips.
"He's weak, but I believe he's ready for the next stage," Grodin answered.
"I brought Chris Larabee from town. He is in the chamber and will be John Daniel's first test," Father John said.
"Do you think that is wise this early in the game?"
"We have kept John Daniel awake for more than 72 hours while feeding him the drugs to reshape his mind and with pain as his constant companion. He is ready, Tyler, and he will be my greatest success. Listen to his voice..."
"He's not making any sense," Grodin told him.
"Listen closely...the words may be garbled, but they are exactly what my devout followers are chanting," Father John said.
"Father John is my savior...Father John will show me the way...Father John is my savior...Father John will show me the way..."
"He is ready. Clean him up and bring him to the Temple," Father John ordered.
"As you wish, Father John," Grodin agreed.
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Vin glanced sideways at Ezra as he pulled the BMW to a stop in front of the warehouse they knew belonged to Donald Nicholson. There were several cars parked in the lot, and he'd already spotted several snipers hidden in areas he would have chosen if asked to watch over the premises.
"Wish the guys were here," Tanner said.
"You and me both, but since they are otherwise engaged it falls to you and I to bring these hoodlums to their knees. I just hope Captain Miller's men understand what is expected of them," Standish observed. The fact that neither one of them was wearing a wire went against everything they'd been trained to do, but they'd rigged a wire in the trunk that could be activated when he retrieved the briefcase with the money. That was the signal for Robert Miller and his men to move in.
"Guess there's no point in puttin' it off any longer," the Texan growled and shoved open the door. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for the job at hand. His hand felt the weapon nestled at his side and he knew Nicholson would check them for wires.
"Are you ready for this?"
"No, but let's do it anyway," Tanner told him and walked toward the door where light spilled out from the tempered glass window. He reached out and knocked loudly, standing back when the door was opened by one of Nicholson's men.
"Mr. Nicholson is expecting us," Standish told the man.
"Search them," Carl Oberon said from inside the warehouse.
Vin showed the man his gun and replaced it as a second man ran an electronic detector over his body and repeated the procedure with Standish. These people were cautious, and he knew that could also make them nervous with itchy trigger fingers.
"No wires, Mr. Oberon," the man called over his shoulder.
"Show them in," Nicholson ordered.
Vin entered first and kept his hand near his weapon as Ezra entered the warehouse and strode purposefully toward the table where several weapons were laid out.
"I'm sure you'll find these are up to standard, Peter," Nicholson said.
"Again, I am not an expert and will leave it to my associate to examine the weapons," Standish told them, moving to join the Oberons as Tanner checked several of the guns laid out before him.
"Would you like something to drink while Alex checks the hardware?" Jane Oberon asked.
"Scotch, neat," Standish answered simply and accepted the glass, swirling the liquid before taking a drink. He could see Vin was taking his time and examining each weapon as if born to the task.
"They're top of the line," Tanner said and moved to join Standish.
"Would you like a drink, Alex?" Jane asked.
"No, thank ya," the Texan answered.
"Did you bring the money?" Carl Oberon asked.
"It's in the car," Standish told him.
"Surely you trust us, Peter?" Nicholson said.
"This is business, Donald, and as such I leave nothing to chance," Standish answered with a tip of his glass.
"Touché," Jane Oberon said and clinked her glass against Standish's.
"Alex, would you bring in the briefcase," the gambler said and allowed Jane Oberon to refill his glass.
"A toast...too many more business dealings," Donald Nicholson said with a smile.
Vin exited the door and knew Nicholson's men were watching him as he made his way toward the BMW. He reached into his pocket, found the keys, and quickly opened the trunk. He reached inside, pulling the briefcase from the corner and hitting the button to signal Miller that the deal had gone down and it was time to move in. Miller and his men understood that Ezra and Vin would be in the line of fire and that they should move as quickly and silently as possible.
Vin let his fingers lightly touch against the weapon in his pocket before walking back into the warehouse. He made his way to the table where the weapons had been put back in their crates and placed the briefcase at the center.
"Open it," Jane Oberon ordered softly. She stood to the Texan's right and tapped her fingers on the table.
Vin took it as a sign that she was nervous and wanted to finish the deal and leave before nerves turned into a shooting match that could get them all killed. Using the keys he entered the password and moved back when it popped open revealing the money Orin Travis had supplied.
Jane Oberon lifted a stack of bills and shuffled them beside her ear, smiling as she took a deep breath and put it back in the case. "I must say it's been a pleasure doing business with you, Peter."
"I assure you the pleasure is all mine," Standish told her. "Now, all that re mains is where you are to deliver the weapons."
"Delivery was not part of the deal, Peter," Nicholson told him.
"Then perhaps you could hold them until my associate returns with his vehicle," Standish asked.
"My men will stay here for one hour...otherwise the weapons go back and we do have a no refund policy as I'm sure you know," Nicholson said as Jane Oberon locked the case and walked toward the exit.
"I'm sure Alex and I will be back in plenty of time," Standish said with a smile as they strode to the door. He could feel the tension in Tanner's body as they stepped outside and spotted Jane and Carl Oberon leaning against the BMW.
"Nice car, Peter," Jane said seductively.
"Thank you," Standish said and moved to the passenger side as Vin moved to the driver's side. He reached for the handle, but something caught his attention and he saw a gun appear in Nicholson's hand as he pointed it toward Standish. "Ezra, get down!"
The gambler barely had time to register the warning when several shots were fired at once. He shoved Jane Oberon away even as he felt something tear through his right side. He gasped, but managed to get the car door open and used it as a shield as more gunshots rang out. He reached into the glove box and grabbed the gun he kept there as he heard a gasp from the other side of the car.
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Robert Miller cursed as sporadic gunfire sounded at the warehouse. He knew there was no point in staying where they were and ordered his men to move in. He raced to the corner of the building and spotted the BMW parked beneath a light. There were two people on either side of the car, but he couldn't tell if it was Standish and Tanner.
Miller signaled for two officers to move in and covered them until they found shelter behind one of the cars. He spotted a woman carrying a briefcase running toward a second car while a man fired several gunshots over his shoulder. He shouted a warning to the duo, but neither one slowed in their attempt to escape.
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Vin had seen Ezra go down, but he didn't have time to check on him as a sound above him caught his attention just before his body was thrown back with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. He closed his eyes, opening them again when he realized he was in the open and needed to find cover.
Tanner knew he was running on adrenaline and that as soon as the police had control of the situation he'd find out exactly where the bullet hit him. He turned on his right side and fired at Donald Nicholson, relieved when the man was thrown backward against a dumpster and lay still.
Vin crawled to the front of the car in time to see Jane Oberon drop the case and raise her hands. It dawned on him that he no longer heard gunshots and cursed when he tried to sit up. The pain hit him hard and fast and he fought to stay conscious as he dropped his gun to the ground.
"Vin..."
"Ez...you hit?"
"I believe I am sporting a new hole in my su...suit," Standish stammered as he sat beside his friend.
"We git 'em?"
"Think so...Miller's coming this way and he looks..."
"Pissed," the Texan ground out.
"Paramedics are on the way," Miller said and knelt in front of the two men. "I thought you two were supposed to lie low when this went down?"
"It seems something alerted Nicholson to your presence," Standish answered, closing his eyes as he pressed his hand against his right side.
Miller moved out of the way as two officers arrived with the first aid kit. There wasn't much they could do for the two men except basic first aid until the ambulances arrived. He turned and surveyed the area, making sure the Oberons, and Donald Nicholson were not going to make an escape attempt. One look at Nicholson told him the bastard wouldn't be going anywhere except to the morgue. Miller turned as Barry White pressed a bandage against the left side of Tanner's chest and listened for the sound of sirens that would signal help would soon be there.
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"God, it's good to have something new to watch," Wilmington observed as he flipped through the channels. Josiah and Nathan were finishing their meal and he knew they were as anxious as he was to get home. Buck stopped when he found a channel with the national and the local news and settled back to listen to the broadcast.
"Tell me about it," Jackson readily agreed. They listened as the newscaster ran through the national news before cutting to the local anchorwoman. He took three beers from the refrigerator and handed one to Wilmington and Sanchez before settling on the sofa beside Buck while Josiah took the recliner.
"So, do you think the kid's still alive?" Wilmington asked as he twisted off the cap and took a drink.
"A better question would be whether Chris is still sane," Jackson answered.
"JD knows when to quit...although if he gets started on those stupid one liners Chris is liable to hogtie him and throw him in the back of the truck for the duration," Sanchez observed with a grin.
"Isn't that...sonofabitch! That's Ezra!" Wilmington cursed of the man being loaded into the back of an ambulance. He quickly turned up the volume as the reporter began describing the events that led up to the shooting.
Sanchez reached for his phone and quickly hit Travis' number, not all that surprised when the older man picked it up on the second ring. "Orin, are you watching the news?"
"I am....I have no idea what's happened yet, Josiah...I've got Miller on the other line and I'll get back to you as soon as I've got the story from him."
"All right, Orin," Sanchez said and hung up. "Orin's getting the story from Miller and will call back."
"We need to get over there," Wilmington said.
"We can't leave, Buck...if we do it could screw up the entire case against Rider," Jackson said and heard the muffled curse from the rogue. They listened to the reporter, but didn't get very much as an ambulance pulled away from the warehouse.
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Vin held his breath as one paramedic peeled back the bandage covering the left side of his chest while a second one started an IV in his right hand. He'd seen Ezra being treated and loaded into the back of an ambulance and knew he wouldn't be far behind him. The pain had slammed home with a vengeance now and he swallowed convulsively as nausea rolled through his gut.
"Vin, I'm going to give you a shot of morphine," the paramedic said.
Tanner could only nod as the man injected the medication and tried to make sense of how things had gone bad so fast. Had he or Ezra made a mistake to tip their hand or was it just a case of bad luck that Nicholson had reached for his gun. It didn't matter now, the arms dealer was dead and that meant one less asshole on the streets. He frowned when he realized it was becoming increasingly more difficult to breathe and opened his eyes as the two paramedics strapped him onto the stretcher and loaded him into the ambulance.
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Hank Davis looked toward the ER doors as they opened and hurried to join the nurse and paramedic. He had heard stories about the men who were being brought in, but had yet to meet any of the operatives who worked for Orin Travis. So far all he knew was that they were dealing with two victims with gunshot wounds and that this was the first patient. He listened as the medic rattled off vital signs and treatment given so far.
"Trauma One is set up for him," Pamela Wallace said and held the doors for the stretcher to be wheeled inside the room. She helped transfer the patient from the stretcher to the hospital bed and hooked the patient up to the hospital monitors.
"Let's get him typed and cross matched," Davis ordered and knew they'd need a second IV as he peeled back the eyelids to reveal green eyes. "What's your name?"
"Ezra P. Standish," the injured man answered, desperately fighting the nausea and pain as the nurse inserted an IV in his left arm.
"Any allergies, Ezra," Davis asked. He knew the paramedics had already asked the questions on the scene, but he liked to gauge the patient's reactions for himself.
"No...unless you c...count a bad reaction to los...losing," Standish grumbled.
"I don't like to lose either, so I guess we're both going to fight to have a winning hand here," Davis said and checked the wound. "Well, we're going to give you something to help manage the pain and then send you up to the OR to get that bullet out..."
"Did they bring Vin in yet?" Standish asked tiredly as the medication was injected into his IV line.
"Vin?" Davis asked.
"He was shot..."
"I think they were a couple of minutes behind you," Pamela answered. "I'll check on him in a minute."
"Thank you, Pam...Pamela," Standish said tiredly. He closed his eyes and felt himself drifting as the medication began to take effect.
"Is he always this stubborn?" Davis asked.
"This is mild, Doctor, wait until the others arrive and take over the ER," the nurse explained and continued working with the physician.
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Roy Simmons looked up as the ER doors opened and a stretcher was pushed inside. He knew who it was and pointed to Trauma Two as one nurse moved to hold the door and a second helped push the gurney inside. They quickly transferred Tanner onto the hospital bed and began exchanging the mobile equipment for the hospitals'.
Simmons listened while the paramedic rattled off the vital signs and the treatment given at the scene and during transit. He knew the Texan had lost a lot of blood and would need a transfusion, but his type was very rare. "Find out if Larabee is out there and tell him..."
"Chris ain't h...here," Tanner said weakly.
"Well, Hell, don't tell me he's on his way in another ambulance?"
"No...out of t...town with JD..."
"Damn, I don't know who to feel sorry for," Simmons teased. "Are you and Larabee in some kind of competition to see whose book has more pages?"
"Guess I'm one up on 'im," Tanner said, gritting his teeth as the nurse pulled back the bandage and revealed the ragged hole in his chest.
"You're getting there, but I'm afraid Larabee has a couple of chapters on you yet," Simmons said and turned to the nurse. "Set up another IV and give him a shot of morphine."
"Yes, Doctor," the nurse said and quickly worked to take blood samples before hooking up another IV and injecting the prescribed dosage of morphine that would help augment the amount given at the scene.
"Ez...ra...he o...okay?"
"Ezra's not the one..."
"Shot too," Tanner managed as his eyelids grew heavy and his breathing grew labored.
"Mr. Standish came in around twenty minutes ago," a nurse told him.
"Damn, Larabee's team doesn't like to go solo on anything do they?" Simmons observed.
"They never have," the nurse agreed.
"Doc," the Texan began, but found he could no longer think straight. He heard Simmons as if through a thick layer of fog and silently cursed when he heard something about a chest tube and intubation.
"Are any of Larabee's team out there?" Simmons asked.
"Just Ezra Standish and he's on his way to the OR," the nurse answered and knew Simmons would do everything for his patient as she left to deliver the blood samples. She wasn't surprised to see Orin Travis standing at the main desk and stopped long enough to tell him Simmons was in with Tanner.
Orin didn't want to keep the nurse from doing her job, but he wanted to know what was happening with Standish and Tanner. What little information he had was not enough to appease the minds of the three men waiting for his call. He spotted a stretcher being wheeled from a room and recognized the occupant as Ezra Standish. He hurried over and walked beside it while speaking to the surgeon.
"How is he?" Travis asked.
"He'd be a lot better without the bullet in his side," Davis answered. "Dr. Silverman is meeting us upstairs. You can wait in the SICU waiting rooms and he'll come find you there."
"Thank you...I will," Travis said and took a deep breath before returning to the desk and waiting for word on the second injured man.
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Chris struggled toward full consciousness and licked at dry lips as he struggled to free his hands, but they were tied tightly behind his back. His ankles were similarly bound and he was lying on a cold floor with only the sound of his breathing as a reminder that he was still alive.
The darkness was absolute, which meant there were no windows to admit even a little light. Chris shifted and finally managed to sit up and knew he needed to do something about his predicament if he was going to help JD. The kid had him worried, because Dunne's absence meant something bad had happened to him.
Larabee maneuvered his body back to the floor and bent his legs before pulling them tight to his chest. The last time he'd done this he'd been a young man and Chris hoped he was still flexible enough to succeed. It was several long minutes and countless muffled curses before he managed to thread his legs through his cuffed arms and lay back to catch his breath.
The cuffs encircling his wrists were tight and Chris knew there was no way he could slip out of them, but his legs were a different matter. He reached down and with numbed fingers searched for the knot, silently praying that it wasn't too tight as he fought to free his legs.
"Sonofabitch," Larabee whispered when his fingers slipped off the rope, but he didn't let that stop him. JD Dunne was out there at the mercy of a madman and God only knew what 'Father John' had done to him. Chris renewed his efforts to get free and finally felt the knot loosening and finally pulled the rope from his legs.
'All right...now where the hell is the door?' he thought.
Chris put his arms out in front of him and using both his feet and hands as a guide found the wall without mishap. He felt around and began moving to the right until he reached a corner and began moving along that wall. He soon found a frame and ran his fingers along the edge, feeling for the handle.
Larabee knew it was a long shot, but he tried to open the door. When it didn't open he searched for the lock and found there was no way of opening it from this side. He tried hitting it several times, but all that got him was a sore shoulder and the realization that he was still a prisoner.
Chris knew he could not quit, not when JD's life could depend on his escaping and getting help. He thought about the town and what little he knew about it and its residents. 'Father John' seemed to have a stranglehold on the people and Chris wondered if the maniac was holding the missing children. If that was the case, then Chris understood why the people would do whatever the cult leader ordered. That did not bode well for JD or for him, and it meant he had to find a way to get help before it was too late.
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"John Daniel, do you want me to take the pain away?"
"Please...make it stop, Father John."
"I will, but you have to disown your worldly goods and denounce everyone who belongs to Satan and bends to his will."
"Father John is my savior...Father John will show me the way...Father John is my savior...Father John will show me the way..."
JD could hear the chanting above the painful ringing in his ears. His body was a mass of agony and he trembled as the clamps around his arms were tightened even further. God, he wanted it to stop. He needed the pain to go away as he listened to the chanting voices echoing through his mind. He cried out as his body shook with enough force that he bit his tongue and tasted blood. He felt a needle enter his arm and screamed as the agony intensified.
"John Daniel, all you have to do is denounce..."
"God, yes, I'll do any...anything you say," JD cried as his body arched upward in spite of the restraints. It felt like his body was an inferno of strangled nerves that burned from the inside out.
"Who is your savior, John Daniel? Who will you follow? Who will you denounce?"
"Father John is my Savior. I will follow him...only him...Please make it stop!"
Father John smiled as blood seeped from the corners of the young man's mouth, and reached for a tissue to wipe it clean before continuing. "Who will you denounce, John Daniel?"
"I denounce everyone who belongs to Sa...Satan."
"Chris Larabee worships Satan..."
"No...not Chris...he's...he's..." JD screamed as something clamped down on his abdomen. It felt like something was crushing his insides and he gasped for air.
"Now, John Daniel, do you want the pain to stop?"
"Yes...God, yes," JD whimpered when the pressure was removed and he could breathe through gritted teeth.
"Chris Larabee..."
"Please...no...not Chris..."
"He is one of Satan's minions, John Daniel, and if you do not prove your loyalty he will continue to cause you pain," Father John said. "You must denounce him and then prove that he does not have a hold on what is in your heart."
"Chris..."
"Do you want to burn in Hell with Chris Larabee, John Daniel?"
"No...I can't..."
"Do you feel the fire in your stomach, John Daniel?"
"Yes...hurts..."
"I can make it stop, but you must embrace my teachings. You must accept the cleansing that will keep Satan and Hell at bay," Father John said.
"I can't..."
"Then the fires will consume you," Father John said and signaled for Grodin to bring the torch closer.
JD's eyes locked onto the flames and he tried to twist away as it neared his face. The heat was intense and he could feel his skin burning as terror wrapped itself around his mind.
"You can stop this, John Daniel..."
"Help me, Father John..."
"You know what you must do...you must prove that you are willing to embrace my teachings. It is the only way to save yourself, John Daniel."
"I will...I do...just make it stop...please make it stop."
"I will," Father John said and smiled as the torch was removed and JD Dunne turned glazed eyes in his direction. "Tonight you will prove your loyalty to me, John Daniel..."
"Tell me...tell me what to do," JD said as tears slipped from his eyes.
"Tonight you will denounce the final bond you have with Satan. You will rid yourself of the final influence Satan has over you."
"Father John is my savior...Father John will show me the way...I pledge my soul to Father John..."
"I pledge my soul to Fath...Father John..."
"Very good, John Daniel, the pain will ease now, but be warned it will return if you do not complete the task I set for you."
"Father John is my Savior," JD whispered, his voice joining the others who chanted and helped ease the pain from his body and mind as the restraints were slowly removed. He felt a sharp jab to his right shoulder and smiled as the other followers helped him sit up. They touched his naked body and slowly eased him to the floor as Father John moved to stand in front of his newest convert.
"You will grow strong now, John Daniel. Penny will show you around the commune and help assign your tasks. For now you will be given the robes of glory and be given food and drink before being allowed to rest. Tonight you will do what must be done to free you of Satan's influence. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Father John," JD whispered and felt himself embraced by the savior's strong arms. Tears ran from his eyes and his body shook weakly as the older man embraced him and filled him with warmth.
"You will be freed tonight, John Daniel. Your heart will no longer be poisoned by Satan's minions."
"Thank you, Father John," Dunne said as a white robe was wrapped around his trembling body and his fellow followers led him out into the bright sunlight.
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