PROTECT ME Page 6

  So yes, her safety was paramount. It went beyond his desire to do his job. He really just didn't want to see any harm come to her.

  It was while thinking of her safety that Mark had a sudden idea about where to go. A sort of safe house, so to speak. It was a spot he used to hide out at when he was in a jam. And, despite the fact that he had quite literally been thrown out of there the last time he'd gone, he was sure they would be safe there now.

  --

  "This is the safest place in D.C?" Mia asked with doubt as they pulled up down the road from the tall apartment block.

  "Something wrong?" Mark asked innocently.

  "No, no... it's lovely," Mia responded, sounding as if 'lovely' was the last word on her mind.

  When Mark had told Mia about it, he had described it literally as the safest place in D.C. As such, Mia was most likely picturing some sort of fenced off, impenetrable brick safe house – more akin to a bomb shelter than what she was seeing.

  Instead, Mark had taken her to a simple apartment block. It was four stories tall and falling apart just like most of the buildings in this part of town were. And the neighborhood wasn't exactly what one would call safe. Mia wouldn't even be able to walk down the street at night without being attacked.

  And yet, Mark was one hundred percent accurate in his description. Right now, it was the safest place for the two of them to be.

  The inside of the apartment block was as dilapidated as the outside. The walls were peeling, the floor was cracked and missing floorboards. Even the windows at the end of the hall were all broken. As they made their way to the fourth floor -- their destination -- Mark laughed to himself over Mia's increasingly horrified expression.

  "How do you know this guy again?" Mia asked nervously.

  "He was a cop once upon a time. But he got ah... discharged shortly after I joined the force. After that he sort of became a... type of informant."

  "A snitch?" Mia accused as she stepped over a missing piece of flooring.

  "Pretty much," Mark laughed. "But more importantly, he’ll be packing. To the teeth. That, plus his ex-military training, makes him the kind of guy you don't want to get on the wrong side of. Trust me, if we want to be safe, this is the place."

  "And he won't mind you coming over at five in the morning?"

  "Oh, that won't bother him. He's more likely to be pissed about the fact that last time I saw him I broke his nose."

  "What?!"

  "Here we are," Mark said as he pulled up in front of one of the doors.

  The man's name was Curt Wood, and true to his word, the last time Mark had seen him, he had punched him square in the face. The reason for it involved Mark's sister, who Curt had unceremoniously tried to sleep with. Of course, after knocking the guy out cold with one punch, his “friends” had physically guided Mark out the door of the building and about five feet into the street. In spite of that, Mark knew they all lived with a certain code, and a guy had to protect his sister. They would respect his actions, even if they couldn’t ignore them. Curt too, hopefully.

  Mark knocked on the door three times and waited. There was a rustling from inside, heavy footsteps and then the door opened.

  Curt looked exactly as Mark remembered him. He was about the same build as Mark, but slightly bigger in the shoulders. He also had dark, tanned skin, big brown eyes, a wicked smile and a shaved head.

  His eyes bulged when he saw Mark and before Mark had a chance to say anything, Curt punched him with an uppercut that took him by surprise.

  "Fuck!" Mark stumbled backwards as he grabbed at his jaw.

  "Mark," Curt smiled as if he hadn't just walloped him. "Good to see you."

  "Curt," Mark growled as he glared at the other man. "Can we come in?"

  "We?"

  Mark grabbed Mia’s hand to pull her out of the corner on the side of Curt’s door where he hadn’t been able to see her. "This is Mia and --"

  "Mia," Curt turned to Mia, eyeing her beautiful curves up and down. As he did he raised an arm over his head, gripping the door frame. He then leaned forward, his body towering over Mia's. "I was upset at being woken so early. But now I see it was all worth it. Never before have I been greeted by something as lovely as --"

  "Save it," Mark said, pushing Curt to the side and walking into his place. "We really don't have time."

  Curt's apartment hadn't changed a bit. It was military to a fault, with the few pieces of furniture in the studio apartment sitting squarely and neatly in the appropriate spots. It was the decoration on the walls though that caught most eyes. There were guns. And lots of them. In place of pictures and hangings, Curt had an arsenal lining his walls. Mark knew they were all loaded too.

  "I thought you had moved to New York?" Curt asked as he followed Mark in. Mia was the last inside, closing the door behind her.

  "I did," Mark said, sitting on a stool by the kitchen. "I'm in town for a job. Protection gig." He nodded toward Mia who was busy staring at the “decorations”.

  “Wow, this is some Feng Shui,” she muttered.

  "Hhmmm," Curt said as he noted Mia again. "It seems I got into the wrong line of work. So, what's your deal, sweetie?" he asked Mia.

  "Mine?" Mia asked, turning on Curt. "Whatever the complete opposite of yours is."

  Mark burst into laughter and even Curt couldn’t help but chuckle. "She's got a mouth."

  "And it will be staying away from yours," Mark added resolutely.

  "Hey, was there any need for that?" Curt asked, holding his hands up in defense. "I've changed since then. I even had a girlfriend for a while!"

  "And?"

  "Oh... well we're not seeing each other anymore. Politics, you know how it is?"

  Mark shook his head. He knew exactly how it was. The real story undoubtedly involved Curt being caught cheating with another woman. Or maybe him voicing his desire to be with another woman. Curt was a womanizer, born and bred. It was so ingrained that he didn't try to hide it, even when he was dating.

  "So, are you going to tell me what you're doing here?" Curt asked.

  "We just need a place to lay low for a few hours. Once the sun's up --", Mark trailed off. He still didn’t know what the best plan of action was. He knew he had to keep Mia safe though, and that meant NOT letting her go track the bad guys. He was tossing around the idea of leaving her here with Curt while he went to hunt down her mother and the crazy albino.

  "What?" Mia suddenly asked. She had stopped studying the guns and was pointedly looking at Mark. "When the sun is up, what?"

  Mark looked at Mia, but didn't respond. He knew Mia wanted to go after her mother, but Mark knew he had to keep her from doing that. It was just too dangerous.

  "I don't know," Mark admitted. "But we can't just --"

  "What? Go save my mom?" Mia pushed. "And why not?"

  "Ah, it's dangerous, for one," Mark pushed back. "And secondly, I wouldn't even know where to look."

  "He's an albino that smuggles immigrants over the border. How hard can he be to find?" Mia shot back.

  "Probably very," Mark offered. "Remember, neither of us are from here. I wouldn't even know where to begin --"

  "I would," Curt said. He had been leaning against the wall, watching the two argue with apparent amusement. "You're after an albino people smuggler? His name isn't Allister Cook, is it?"

  "What?" Mark asked, turning on Curt. "How do you know that?"

  "Well like the little lady here said, he kind of stands out. Plus, I sold the guy some guns recently. I tell you what, he creeps even me out. Gives me the willies --"

  "Where is he?" Mia said hurriedly as she stormed up to Curt. "He has my mother. You must know where he --"

  "I told you, we can't just storm into his base," Mark protested. "It's too dangerous and --"

  "I don't care!" Mia said. "She's my mother and I'm helping her."

  A silence followed this declaration as Mark studied the determined face that Mia wore. God help the world, but she had already changed so much. Gon
e was the girl who didn't so much as give a thought about anyone but herself. And now she was willing to risk her life. It made Mark smile, although this stubborn streak wasn’t going to work in his favor at this moment.

  "What?" Mia said, seeing the smile.

  "Nothing," Mark replied, not even bothering to cover it. "I guess we're doing it."

  "Seriously?" Mia asked, surprised. She probably hadn't expected Mark to give in. He'd been stern with her in everything else up until this point.

  "Of course. You're right, your mother is in danger. And I still don't trust the police --"

  "Smart," Curt said. Mark looked to his old friend. He'd almost forgotten he was there. "That albino has half the force on the payroll."

  "So, you can tell us where his base is?" Mark asked.

  "I can do you one better," Curt declared. "I can tell you where that bag of flour lives. Won't that be fun? Pop in on him while he's making his morning coffee."

  Mark looked back to Mia who was wearing a big smile. She obviously liked that idea. And Mark, despite himself, decided that he did too.

  --

  The sun was rising as Mia and Mark made their way from the apartment to Curt’s Hummer. Curt had been extremely helpful, not only giving them the address of Allister Cook, but in also providing them with a small arsenal of their own. And his vehicle was loaded to the nines with armor plating, navigation systems, tracking, and probably a whole ton of other technology that Mark wasn’t even aware of.

  Even with the selection of guns on hand, Mark still wouldn't let Mia have one though. He just didn't think it was safe. The only addition to her attire was a gauze bandage wrapped around her forearm. Once they had settled on a plan of attack, Mark noted a graze across her arm. He insisted it be attended to before they left.

  "This thing itches," she complained as the two walked across the road.

  "No. It doesn’t," Mark dismissed firmly.

  "It does," she pulled at the bandage. "Hey, I think there's something in here..." Her finger stroked at the bandage where the distinct outline of something other than gauze was poking out. "What is --"

  "It's nothing," Mark said, grabbing her arm and pulling it down. There was a reason for Mark's dismissal and one he didn't want Mia to know about. When Mark saw the graze on her arm, he realized that in bandaging it up, he could kill two birds with one stone. So, a short conversation with Curt later and his idea was put into action.

  "What are you talking about?" Mia insisted. "See. It looks like a little --" Mark grabbed her by the arm again, pulling her to a sudden halt just before they got into the vehicle.

  "Mia," Mark said in a hushed whisper. He had forgotten about the bandage. Something else had caught his eye. "We're being followed."

  It was because of Mia's focus on the bandage over her arm, that Mark hadn’t noticed it straight away. But now that he had, it was almost too obvious. Roughly fifty yards back from the parked Hummer was a black SUV. And now that Mark was looking, he spotted four more, peppered along the roadside.

  "Mia," Mark said. He remained casual, trying to act as if he hadn't seen a thing. But even as he did, he noted four men in suits walking towards them. They walked in pairs and were coming from both directions. "Turn around slowly and go back inside. Then head straight back up to Curt's --"

  "Not without you," she said firmly.

  Mark grimaced. He knew she was going to fight him on that. "Now's not the time to --"

  "I'm not leaving you." He looked back at her, seeing instantly that there was no point in arguing. She wasn't budging.

  "Fine," he relented. As he did, he slowly turned on his heel, turning Mia with him as they faced back in the direction of the apartment. That was when it happened.

  The four men leaped into action. No longer walking, they sprinted at Mia and Mark. Mark pulled his gun from its holster "Run!" He pushed Mia forward and as he did, he fired his gun twice. They shots were not meant to hit the men – Mark couldn’t just fire off shots in a residential area like this. Rather he pointed the gun up, just trying to provide the cover that the two needed, if only for a moment.

  He and Mia sprinted back towards the apartment building. Bullets ricocheted off the walls around them, breaking and spraying the brick shards into their faces as they ran. Mark fired a few more random shots over his shoulder, all the while making sure to stay low and also push Mia's head down.

  Inside the building, the two went for the stairs. They dodged around the corner as another bullet missed them by a hair’s width.

  Up the stairs they charged, all the while very aware of the sounds of pursuing footfalls, getting closer and closer. When they reached the fourth floor, another bullet tore through the wall right by Mark’s head from in front of them. Somehow, there were already two men on the fourth floor, standing guard by Curt's door.

  "Upstairs. The roof!" Mark yelled, pushing Mia up the stairs as he did. One floor higher up they reached the door to the roof. He turned back and fired another round.

  They burst onto the roof. It was empty of both people and places to hide. A flat surface that exposed them to the elements as well as to their assailants.

  "What now?" Mia asked. She spun on the spot in desperate search of an answer.

  "The fire escape," Mark grabbed her by the arm and dragged her across the roof toward the escape, built into the side of the building.

  As he pulled her along, Mark was only to aware of how exposed they were. The wind whipped at his hair. The sun glared in his eyes. He made sure to run behind Mia, blocking her in case one of the thugs got off a sh --

  The hot lead took him in the back of the thigh. He stumbled forward, but he didn't stop. The fire was burning up the back of his leg and shooting arrows of pain into his back as he struggled to keep running forward, blocking any shot lines to Mia with his body. Just a little farther. He could see the ladder rails, about six feet away. Just a bit more. He kept pushing Mia forward, closer to the fire escape.

  Mark spun on his heel and aimed his gun back in the direction of the shots. There were two men coming for them, both with their guns out. Mark fired his gun, but was greeted with the soft 'click' of an empty cartridge.

  “Fuck,” he muttered as he spun around, intending to grab Mia. They had to hurr--

  Blinding pain in his head. He felt himself sprawling forward and couldn’t stop his momentum. His knees hit the low wall surrounding the edge of the roofline. As he fell over the edge, head first, he thought of Mia. Oh God, what was going to happen to her? He had failed her…

  He heard her scream his name as he began to free fall.

  Fuck, the pain in his head was terrible. At least he wouldn’t be conscious by the time he hit the ground.

  And then everything went black.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  At first, Mia thought that she was in a giant shipping container. At least that was what it looked like when she came to. The space was cramped and dark. The roof was only eight feet high and the wall opposite her was less than ten feet away, and in front of it were piles of stacked wooden boxes, each large enough to hold a refrigerator. From what she could see in the almost total darkness, the walls and roof were made from steel, with very thin slivers of light creeping through the cracks.

  The way that Mia had been restricted didn't allow for her to further inspection the room either. Her hands were strung up over her head and when she looked up, she saw that she was literally dangling from a hook in the ceiling – like a piece of meat on her way to the slaughter.

  Then the 'shipping container' moved. And kept moving. It wasn't a violent thrust that may have suggested it was being picked up. But rather the slow melodic vibration of an engine, followed by the distinct feeling of a forward momentum.

  That was when Mary realized what it was that she had found herself in. "It's a tr --"

  "A truck, dear. We're in the back of a god damn truck," Eunice Warren spoke through the darkness.

  Startled, Mia swung her body around. Beside her was another
large wooden crate. But on the other side of that, partially obscured from her vision, was Mia's mother.

  "Mom!" Mia exclaimed, letting out a sigh of relief. Although really there was nothing to be relieved about, considering the circumstances they were both in. "How long have --"

  "Well," her mother said in a very droll manner, as if she were bored. "The better part of a day. Although I have no clock in here so it's anyone's guess. And you... they dragged you in here an hour ago."

  "Are you okay?" Mia asked with real concern.

  "Physically, yes. Although politically I'd say that this will not come off well. The vote is soon and unless these kidnappers are driving us in the direction of the Senate, I don't see how I'll make it in time."