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Redemption
(Sequel to Starting Over)
by F.A. Behrend

 

Disclaimer:  The characters of Frank Donovan, Jake Shaw, Alex Cross, Monica Davis, Cody and Paul Bloom were created by and are owned by Shane Salenrno and Don Wilson.  No infringements intended.  All other characters are owned by the author.

Rated:  NC-17 - adult themes

(Feedback welcomed via email to fran@completetrav.com or on the Message Board)

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            She worked up through the gears, whipping around the track like an arrow, the downdraft of the airfoils practically gluing the open-wheeled race car to the track  The physics of it always amazed her, that you could actually move that fast and not completely leave the ground.  She watched the gauges and listened carefully to the sound of the engine.  Everything was smooth, clean and green.  Two more laps and she pulled into pit row, cut the engine and began to unbuckle the straps. 

            When she climbed out of the car, Ramon greeted her with a hug, “child, you fly out there!  The new suspension settings?  The new transmission linkages?”

            She removed her helmet and returned his hug.  “It feels like I’m driving a rocket!  Practically no fall-off in power when I shift!  Your technicians have done a fabulous job!”  Her eyes were shining and then she said, “I keep having to tell myself that the whole point of this is not to simply win races, but to finally put an end to people like Ortega.”

            “Child,” Ramon shook his head sadly, “there will never truly be an end to people like Ortega.  He is like the hydra of ancient legend.  We can cut off one head, but as certain as the sunrise, another will take his place.”  He put his arm around her and they walked back toward the development building.

            She had been here for two weeks, practicing with the car and working secretly with Ramon and a few of his most trusted people.  The atmosphere was tense, and her only relief from the tension had been the actual driving.  She was here training as a possible replacement for a much loved and admired driver.  There had been a minor accident, he had been blamed and was removed from the Garcia Racing Team just weeks before.  Word had gone out on the circuit that Ramon would soon be hiring a replacement driver.  Several had come to this development facility to “audition” for the job, and Dani had been among them. 

            She clung to his bulk now as they crossed the asphalt, her arm around his waist.  He was tall and barrel chested, with a mane of dark hair liberally streaked with white.  He had aged dramatically since she had first met him, that summer that Victoria had brought her home.  But although his face was thinner and his hair was whiter, he was still her friend, her mentor and the closest thing to a father that she had ever known. 

            A large white SUV with blacked out windows pulled onto the test track and came to a stop a short distance away.  The back door swung open and a small dark bullet, dressed in red with black curls flying, hurtled out towards him.  “Poppy!” she cried.  He held out his arms and the child flew to him and covered his face in kisses.

            “My princess!” he cried, his dark eyes soft and his face glowing.

            “Are you coming to lunch?” the child asked.  “I have a new doll and I must introduce you.  She has yellow hair, like Aunt Dani and a pink dress, but with blue eyes, not green...”

            The child rattled on and Ramon listened, holding her on his hip as they walked slowly back to the car.  All his attention was focused on her, as thought the presence of a new doll was the most important thing in the world to him.  Dani watched the two of them together and thought, this is what he’s fighting for, to make a world safe for his princess.

            They had lunch on the verandah of Ramon’s Rio estate, under a spreading canopy of green.  The conversation was monopolized by the fashion concerns of a five year old with her dolls.  When the child left for a brief siesta Dani turned to Ramon, her face serious.  “This puts her in danger,” she said quietly.

            Ramon nodded, “I have tripled security.  I know that Ortega would not hesitate to harm her if he knew of our business together.”  He looked at her, his dark eyes serious, “but it needs to be done.  The man must see justice.”  He paused and looked up at the house, to the guards that could be seen patrolling the roof, “and I must have peace.”

            They came back to the States the next day, Ramon on his private jet and Dani via a commercial flight.  She had barely had time to unpack when her phone rang. 

            “Miss Prescott?”  It was a cultured voice with a Hispanic accent.

            “Yes?”

            “My name is Carlos Ortega.  I believe we have a mutual interest.  If it would not be too much trouble, I would like to meet with you.”

            “I don’t know you, Mr. Ortega.  What possible mutual interest could we have?”  Her heart was pounding.  This was happening much faster than she had expected.

            “I understand that you have an interest in racing and I myself am an aficionado of the sport...”

            “How nice for you, Mr. Ortega.  Now, if you don’t mind, I have just returned from overseas and I have a great deal of unpacking to do.”

            “And what was the nature of your trip?”

            “That’s none of your business.”

            “I believe, Miss Prescott, that you were applying for a job.”

            So, I have been observed, she thought.  She went through it quickly in her mind.  Even if she had been seen with Ramon, and even if they were observed to be quite “friendly,” she could simply claim that she was trying to win a position with his race team, by whatever means necessary.  Then she said, “my employment prospects are not your concern.”

            “But I may be able to help you, Miss Prescott, please hear me out.  Perhaps we can arrange to meet together?  In some public place, of course, if that would make you feel more comfortable.”

            “How do you think you can help me?  As I said, I don’t even know you.”

            He paused, and then said.  “We both love racing, Miss Prescott.  And I may soon be in a position to guarantee your future employment in that fine sport.”

            “Soon?”  she said, “I’m afraid I am in need of a paycheck almost immediately.  ‘Soon’ simply won’t do.”

            “Meet with me, Miss Prescott.  We can discuss it.  Perhaps we can come to some kind of...arrangement?”

            They met.  Of course, Dani was wearing a wire.  The team was located in a van across the street from the restaurant where she would sit down with Ortega.  Alex spoke up from the tight confines of the electronics-packed vehicle, “does anybody know if she’s ever done anything like this before, met with someone like Ortega?  Set up a sting operation like the one we’re trying?”  There was no answer.

            Then Frank said, “Look, Alex, I know you’ve got a problem with this...”

            “Like I keep saying, this entire project rests on her shoulders.  Do we know if she can really handle it?”

            “We’re about to find out.  Here comes Ortega.  Heads up everybody.”

            The little man approached the table calmly, like he was meeting an old friend for dinner.  “Good evening, Miss Prescott,” he said, extending a hand as he sat down across from her.  He was short and balding, just like the pictures she had seen, but nothing in a picture could come close to capturing the intensity in his eyes.  A smile twitched over his thin lips.   

            She took his hand, “Mr. Ortega,” she said, “I’d like to get straight to the point.  I don’t want to waste my time, or yours.  You spoke on the phone about an ‘arrangement’.  Just what did you have in mind?”

            “I appreciate your candor, but please, certainly we can take a little time to enjoy one another’s company.”  He snapped his finger and a waiter appeared.  He placed an order for champagne.

            The team listened in the van.  “He must think he has something to celebrate already,”  said Frank, watching the proceedings through binoculars.

            “Champagne?” said Dani, “are we celebrating something?”

            “We are celebrating potential,” said Carlos, “I believe that we are both on the verge of realizing a dream.”

            “And what do you know about my dreams, Mr. Ortega?”

            “I have done a little research.  It seems that you once drove race cars, Miss Prescott.  And it appears that you would like to do so again.”

            She took a deep breath and watched the bubbles rise in her glass.  “And if your research has been thorough, then you also know that I have not been able to accomplish that goal.”

            “Yes, and I believe that is a waste of talent.  I may be in a position very soon to correct that situation.”

            “You?  How?  I want to drive, Mr. Ortega, and the last time I checked, you weren’t involved in racing.”

            “You are correct, for now.  But soon, very soon, I may be in a position to put you behind the wheel of a race car.”

            “I suppose you’re just going to manufacture a car for me, Mr. Ortega.  That’s very nice, but it takes a little more to field a Formula One Race team.”

            He smiled, a merry little grin that did not reach into his dark, opaque eyes, “I would like to ask you a question, Miss Prescott.”

            “Go ahead,” she said.

            “Just what is your association with Ramon Garcia?”

            Everyone in the van froze.  She would have to make Ortega believe that she had no personal connection with Ramon and was unaware of what had happened to Ramon’s daughter.  She smiled, twirled her glass between her fingers, drained it and then extended it so he could pour more champagne.  “My association with Ramon.  Well now, there’s a long story.”  She decided to stick as close to the truth as possible, since she had no way of knowing just how much information Ortega had.  “I met him when I was in school.  We had a ‘relationship,’ if you catch my drift.”  She watched in disgust as Ortega licked his thin lips and then she went on,  “he taught me to drive and let me in a couple of races in his cars.”

            “I see,” he said, “and have you seen him recently?”

            “Yes, I have.”  She made it sound like a confession.  “I heard he needed a new driver, so I went to see him, to ‘apply’ for the job.’

            “And?”

            “And nothing.”  She shoved her glass aside, seeming to be angry.  “I drove, showed him what I could do, showed him what might be...possible.  And he sent me away.”

            “A terrible disappointment, I’m sure.”  Ortega’s voice was soft, velvety in the quiet restaurant.  “And why do you think he rejected your generous ‘offer’?”

            “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”  Her eyes flashed, “his wife didn’t want me around,” she spat out the words.

            “Well,” he said, reaching across the table and taking her hand, “I just may have a way to ease your disappointment.”

            His touch made her skin crawl, but she simply said, “I’m listening.”

            “Since the loss of his principal driver, I am afraid that your friend Ramon has had some financial setbacks.”

            “Good for him,” she snorted.

            “Very soon I will be in a position to make an investment in Garcia Racing and when that happens, I would like to hire you as my driver.”

            She gave him an appraising look and a generous smile  “And just how soon is ‘very soon’?”  she asked.  She was still holding his hand and she ran her thumb provocatively across the back of his fingers.

            Jake was watching through binoculars in the van, “Jesus,” he said, “she’s good.”

            “I’m beginning to think you’re right,” said Alex quietly, “she’s playing him like a fish on a line.”

            “Very soon,” Ortega told her, “should be within the next few weeks.  Garcia will need an infusion of money before the next race at Watkins Glen.  I am prepared to be very generous with him...”

            “...provided that I can do the driving.”

            “Of course, my dear.”

            “And what makes you think he will accept your offer?”

            “Of course the offer will not come directly from me.  Ramon and I, shall we say, have not always seen eye to eye on many things.  This investment must come through intermediaries, but I can assure you, come race weekend at the Glen, you will be in the driver’s seat for Garcia Racing.”

            “I like the way you think, Mr. Ortega.”

            “Please, call me Carlos.”  He leaned closer to her across the table.

            She pulled away from him, but still kept smiling.  “Now, Carlos,  I think that if our...association...is to progress beyond a mere business level, it will have to wait until after I have won you some races.”

            He picked up his glass and saluted her, “to a very lucerative and pleasurable partnership,” he said.  He kissed her hand and left the table. 

            She sat at the table for a few minutes and then said softly into the microphone.  “Well, guys, it looks like he bought it.  I think we can take it as gospel that he will have me followed, so I’ll see you all at the ‘prom’.”

            The “prom” was a charity ball.  The most important people from the world of racing would be present, raising money for a children’s hospital.  Ramon would use this occasion to announce his retirement from the racing business.  Garcia Racing Enterprises would be sold to dot com millionaire Steven Windham.

            “Well, Mr. Windham,” said Alex reaching up to straighten Frank’s tie, “you clean up pretty good.”

            “Quit fussing,” he growled, tugging at his shirt collar.

            “I still say that you could put Quasimodo in a tux and he’d look good.” 

            Jake poked his head into the room and said, “almost showtime, everybody ready?”

            “Speaking of Quasimodo....” Alex said laughing, “....and yes, I think we’re ready.”   They went down together in the hotel elevator in silence.

            They would all sit together for the evening at the head banquet table.  Frank would pose as the buyer of Ramon’s team, and Alex would be his accountant.  Jake was the new chief mechanic.  Garcia Racing was still without a driver, but if all went according to plan, that position would be filled this very evening.  Ortega was there also, having bought his way in with a sizable donation to the hospital.   The lovely blonde he was escorting was Dani.   

            After Ramon made his announcement, he left the banquet.  Frank leaned over and whispered to Alex, “it shouldn’t be long now.”  He was right.  They could see the small man making his way across the crowded room towards them.  A sturdy body guard was clearing the way for him through the press of people and when he came up to them he immediately reached for Frank’s hand. 

            “Mr. Windham,” he said, “allow me to introduce myself.  I am Carlos Ortega and let me be the first to welcome you to the exciting world of racing.”   He clicked his heels together and made a small bow.  He was shorter than Frank and looked up at him with dark close-set eyes.  He was clean shaven but for a pencil-thin mustache,  and the hand that gripped Frank’s was decorated with an enormous diamond pinkie ring.  His Armani tux was perfectly cut for his slight frame, and his sharp pointed features gave him an almost feral look.

            “Thank you, Mr. Ortega.  I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.  Just what is your connection to this fascinating sport?” 

            “At present,” he said, withdrawing his hand, “I am an interested observer only.  For me, speed and beauty are among the most intoxicating of drugs.”

            “As they are for many men,” Frank broke in.  “I am fortunate to be able to indulge my fantasies in both areas.”  He took Alex by the arm and gestured towards the bar.  “Perhaps we could have some refreshment while we get to know one another?”

            “Of course, that would be delightful.  But, please, introduce me to your lovely companion.”

            “This,” said Frank, “is Alex Monroe.  She is my accountant.”

            “Ah!  Beauty and brains!”

            “She watches my investments for me...”

            “I’ve told you, Steven,” Alex broke in, “this is not an investment, this is an indulgence.  From what I’ve seen of Garcia’s books, we’re already losing money.” 

            They reached the bar, sat and ordered drinks and then Ortega said,  “Perhaps, Mr. Windham, you will allow me to make a small investment in your enterprise.”

            “A risky proposition,” said Frank, “I’m just getting my feet wet in this business.  And I still need a driver.”

            “Actually, I see very little risk.  The development group has produced some excellent vehicles, consistent top performers.  I believe that an infusion of capital will go a long way towards putting Garcia Racing in the winner’s circle.  And,”  he paused, “I may be able to help you in the matter of your vacancy in the driver’s position.”

            “Really,” said Frank, “I have already interviewed a number of well qualified men for that position, but I haven’t found quite the person I’m looking for.”

            “Perhaps you are looking in the wrong places, Mr. Windham.  Men don’t always make the best drivers.  My companion, Miss Prescott, is an excellent driver, she has won several races...”

            Dani extended her hand, “Mr. Windham, I would be most anxious to show you what I can do behind the wheel.  Perhaps we can arrange for a try-out?”

            Frank didn’t want to appear to be too eager and so he said,  “Thank you, Miss Prescott,  I’ll have someone call you to arrange it.”  Then he turned to Ortega, “Your offer is most generous, but let me think about it.  I’ll allow Alex to more fully research what we may need.  Once she has had a chance to go over the accounts, perhaps we could meet again to discuss it?  And to review Miss Prescott’s driving abilities?”

            “I look forward to it.”  He stood and bowed slightly.

            It was the first weekend in October, race weekend in Watkins Glen, New York.  The little town sits at the south end of Seneca Lake in the western tier of New York state, nestled in the rolling hills.  Those hills were a riot of color, cloaked in blazing oranges and reds.  At this time of year, the fall color had reached its peak and the curving roads were crowded with ‘leaf peepers’.  Those same roads were also clogged with tourists visiting the many boutique wineries that dotted the colorful hillsides.  The grape harvest was now in full swing, and the traffic was horrendous.  Jake leaned on the horn and fumed, as they were held to a near walking pace behind an ancient travel trailer chugging up one long hill after another.  At last there was a break in the stream of oncoming vehicles and he was able to pull out and pass. 

            “Relax,”  said Frank, “we’ll get there.  Just make sure we arrive at the track in one piece.”  He was feeling a lot more comfortable with the entire operation.  Their discreet surveillance of Dani showed that she was in place and behaving just as Ortega might expect her to behave.  “Windham” had agreed to accept a loan from Ortega, and had established a “working” relationship with his people.  Alex had managed to gain computer access to some of Ortega’s records.  It looked promising, but so far they had nothing conclusive, nothing to take to the prosecutors.  Not yet.

            The town of Watkins Glen was very small and there was not a great deal of choice in accommodations.  Ortega, Dani, “Mr. Windham” and Alex were all booked into the same hotel.  Dani was spending most of her time at the track, both to get used to the car and to avoid being in Ortega’s presence any more than was absolutely necessary.  She felt cut off and isolated, watching every word she said, every move she made.  It was like walking a tightrope.  But she was used to working alone and so she focused on the driving and kept her ears open for any useful information that Ortega might drop in conversation.

            When Jake pulled into the garage area, he went immediately to the pit crew.  There was a great deal of preparation to be done before the race.  Frank found Dani and took her aside.  If they were observed, it would not be unnatural for an owner to have a discussion with his driver.  “How are you doing,” he asked.

            “Fine.”  She nodded and looked out over the hills, stained bright red and gold from the maples and the oaks.  The air was crisp and cool.  There was a brisk breeze blowing and a pale blue sky was studded with thick clouds.  There would be rain before long. 

            “I mean, how are you, really?”

            She looked at him, “fine, really.”  What did he expect, she wondered, what did he want.

            “You’re doing very well,” he said, leaning against the rail that separated the pit lane from the mechanical area.  “Alex is working on Ortega’s computer files.  With any luck, it won’t be too much longer before we have a good case.”  He looked at her, “you know, we wouldn’t be able to do any of this if you hadn’t gotten us in the door.”

            She shrugged.  Even when he was paying her a compliment, she still felt like the little kid who had been called to the principal’s office.  When she finally looked up at him, she was surprised to see that he was smiling, genuinely smiling at her.  There it is again, she thought, something in his eyes.  Her heartbeat began to pick up speed, and she smiled back, blushing slightly, fidgeting, pushing her hair behind her ear.  Forget it, said the voice inside her head, like he said, it’s all about the work you can do for him, nothing more.  The smile vanished from her face, like the clouds racing across the sky, here and then just as quickly gone.

            He saw the change and asked, “what’s wrong?”

            She shrugged again, “it’s different than I thought it would be, I mean, being part of a team.  Jake’s fine, actually, he’s just great, but I know Alex doesn’t much trust me...” she paused and wrapped her arms around herself in the chill air, rocking back and forth on her heels.  Even in coveralls with Nomex underwear, she was cold.   “...and then there’s you.”

            “Me?”  He seemed surprised.  He glanced down at the shoes she was wearing, the tech guys had done a great job of installing tracking devises in every pair she had brought along.  He smiled.  Originally these bugs had been placed to keep her in line and keep track of her.  Now, he thought, they’re there to protect her.  They were covering her back and she didn’t even know it.

            Yeh.  I never know if you’re about to shoot me or not.”

            He laughed, “have you done something that you need to be shot for?”

            “No!  Well, I don’t think so...oh hell, just tell me that someday this teamwork thing gets easier.”

            “It does.  And don’t worry, I’m not about to shoot you, in spite of the fact that you can be very irritating.”  He hesitated, not exactly sure of how to tell her what he had been feeling.  Then he said, “Dani, it’s not unusual, in a situation like this, especially when things are so dangerous, that people can begin to have feelings for each other...”

            “Oh sure!  Naturally!  Of course!  But there are rules, regulations about that sort of thing...I mean...personal feelings can’t be allowed to get in the way of the work...”  she laughed nervously and stepped away from him.  He caught her by the arm and turned her around.  A gust of wind blew a strand of hair across her face and he reached up and brushed it away.  The touch of his fingers on her cheek made chills run up and down her spine.  She had never seen him look at her like this, his eyes running into her, touching something deep inside.  “I have never met anyone in my life like you,” he said  very quietly, his hand still resting on her cheek,  “you are brave, smart, funny...beautiful...and when all this is over...”

            She found that she could barely breathe. “But...what about...rules...regulations...”  The dark little voice in her head had gone silent and her heart was racing.

            “Relationships can be kept discreet.” 

            She looked into his eyes and said, almost in a whisper, “I sort of thought, well, you...and Alex...”

            “No,” he smiled, “I love Alex like a sister.  She’s one of the best friends I could have.  She’s my conscience, and, if anything, she’s even more ‘by the book’ than I am.”  He dropped his hold on her arm and continued, “but this is probably not the right time or place to be talking about this.”

            “You’re right, and if Ortega has eyes around here then I should probably...slap you or something.”

            “Good point.”  He laughed out loud and reached for her again, “but make it look good.”

            She made it look good, and Frank ended up flat on his back in pit row.  She stalked away, trying to look as angry as she could manage.  She quickly put on her helmet, climbed into the car and roared out onto the track.  The helmet hid a wide and glorious smile and her heart was singing. 

            When she had done a couple of laps she pulled back into the pits.  Jake was there to meet her with several other members of the pit crew.  They were deep into a discussion of  tires and the possibility of rain when her cell phone chirped.  She stepped away from the group when she checked the caller ID.  “Yes?”

            “Am I calling at a bad time?”  It was Ramon.

            “No, I think we’re OK on this line.  What is it?”

            “I normally wouldn’t take the risk of contacting you,” he said, “but I have some wonderful news and I wanted to share it with you immediately.”  His voice was light and she could tell, even over the phone, that this news, whatever it was, must be very good.  “I have found a new doctor who is willing to examine my Victoria.  He feels that his treatment may be able to help her.”

            “Ramon!  That’s wonderful!”  Victoria had been nearly catatonic for years, the result of Ortega’s attack on her.  Now, if there was hope for her, that was wonderful news indeed.

            “I will be bringing her to the States for an examination.”  The joy in his voice was palpable.  “We will actually be quite close to you.  This doctor is working out of a small private clinic in the city of Corning and he has made some time in his schedule to see her.”

            “Ramon, do you think that’s wise?  Corning is quite close to the Glen, and with Ortega in the area, you could both be in danger.”

            “I realize that, and that is why I am calling you, to warn you, let Frank know that we will be close by.  Of course I am bringing security...”

            “Is there any way to delay?  Just until the race this weekend is over?  By then Ortega will be gone and it would be safer for Victoria, and for you.”

            “No,” he said, “we can’t delay.  The doctor is quite busy and he has only been able to clear his schedule with great difficulty.  We will stay out of sight as much as possible.  I don’t anticipate any problems.  I just want you to know of this wonderful chance.”

            “It is wonderful news, Ramon.  And I will pray that this doctor can help her.  I’ll let Frank know and we’ll keep our eyes open.  We’ll watch Ortega and his people very carefully.”  She hung up.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful, she thought, if Victoria could actually recover, after all this time.  She shook her head in wonder at all that was happening, Ortega, about to be brought to justice, Victoria, perhaps on her way to recovery, and then there was Frank.  He actually wanted her around.  She looked up at the sky, thick clouds whipping across the pale blue and the dark little voice came back.  This is way to good to be true, it said, I wonder what will go wrong.  “I wonder,” she said out loud.

            “About what?”  It was Jake, coming up behind her, a perpetual grin on his face.

            She jumped and then looked around.  “You should know,” she said, “I just got a call from Ramon.  He’s going to be in the area.  He’s bringing his daughter to see a new doctor down in Corning.  Can you let Frank know?”

            Jake nodded, holding up a clipboard to make it look like they were discussing the upcoming race.  “I’ll fill him in.  He’ll probably want to add some extra people, both to keep an eye on Ortega and to watch over Ramon and Victoria.”  They went on to talk about the qualifying trials and whether they would use rain tires or not. 

            “As long as it stays dry,” she said, “I think we should use the dry tires.  The suspension is already set up for them.  We can always switch if it gets too wet.”  She grinned at him.  “I have every confidence that my crew chief will be able to change them out quickly enough if we need to.”  Dark clouds had been rolling in all morning and now the first rain hit the track with a splat.  “OK,” she yelled as they ran for the cover of the garage area, “start with the rain tires!”  They next day they would qualify, and the day after that they would race.

            Alex paced in the little hotel room.  Outside it was raining heavily and she was deeply frustrated.  The laptop sat open on the desk, but she had not been able to access any of the files related to Ortega’s many “business interests.”  She had hoped that with access to the racing account, she would eventually be able to open up other files as well, but so far she had been unsuccessful.  She did not trust that Dani’s continued association with Ortega would provide any real intelligence and she wanted to speed up the investigation.  She decided to call Toby.  Maybe the ultimate computer geek could help her hack into the information she needed.  She picked up the phone and dialed.  

            Carlos sat in his hotel room, a drink in one hand and the television remote in the other.  He flipped through the channels while a steady rain drummed against the windows.  The weather channel predicted that the rain would be gone by tomorrow, in plenty of time for the race, and he smiled to himself.  The car was performing well and the driver he had provided was proving to be most talented.  Soon he would be able to edge Mr. Windham out and take complete control of the race team for himself.  Life was good and he finished his drink.  Once Windham was out of the picture, then he would be able to see just where this driver, so young and lovely, would be able to take him.  His cell phone rang and he picked it up, frowned at the unfamiliar number on the caller ID and said, “Yes?”

            “Mr. Ortega?”

            “Yes, what is it?  I am a busy man.”

            “You may not remember me, my name is Phillip Reyes.  I did some small favors for you a while back.”

            In truth, he did not remember the man, but he said, “continue.”

            “I have some information you may be interested in.  Perhaps we could meet in the bar?”

            He thought carefully.  Information was power, and it was something best kept as secret as possible, and then used at the most advantageous moment.  He took a risk.  “Come to my room,” he said, “we can talk more privately here.”

            Two hours later Reyes was gone.  Ortega paced the room, he had verified the man’s story and had given instructions.  He was now preparing to pack and leave the hotel.  He seethed with rage, cursing himself for allowing his own obsessions to blind him.  It was an error he would not make again.  His cell phone rang once more and this time he recognized number on the caller ID.  “Yes?” he said.  His eyes widened in alarm as he listened.  “Traced to this hotel?  Thank you.  I will take care of the matter.”  He went into the next room and called to one of his body guards.  “We have work to do,” he said, “come with me.”

            Alex had just finished downloading the files she was after.  Toby’s instructions had worked and she had bypassed the security systems to gain entry to Ortega’s computer.  She copied the information to a disc and then put the disc in the drawer of the little desk in the room.  It would be safe enough there for the time being.  She had just gone back to the laptop and was beginning to review the files when the door of her room burst open.  Ortega and his bodyguard had her at gunpoint. 

            The bag containing her weapon was across the room and she knew there was no hope of reaching it.  All she could do was stall, play for time and hope that someone would come along and provide an escape.  She stood, raised her hands above her head and said, “Mr. Ortega.  This doesn’t look like a social visit. What can I do for you?”

            He said simply, “my computer people alerted me to an entry into my system.  They traced it to this hotel, and to you.”  He was completely in control, but his face was pale with rage and his dark eyes were hard and opaque. 

            She was bound to a chair.  Ortega paced and looked at the laptop.  “Who do you work for!”  he demanded.  When she didn’t answer, the bodyguard struck her with the butt of his gun.  The room reeled  and she tasted blood in her mouth.  Keep stalling, she told herself, play for time.  After about 20 minutes of hard questioning Ortega said, “this is getting us nowhere.  Untie her.  Bring her.  We will go to a place I know where we can have more privacy.”  The body guard dragged the now unconscious woman out the back door of the hotel.

            Dani was coming in the driveway to the hotel when she saw the big black SUV turn out onto the road.  Ortega was in the passenger’s seat.  It was raining billy-goats and she thought it unusual that he would be going out on a night like this, especially in such a small town without a great deal of night life.  She went in through the lobby, but instead of going directly to her own room she went up one more floor.  She walked down the short hallway quietly, and froze when she saw the door to Alex’s room.  It was open, just a crack.  She inched her way down the hall and listened carefully.  Not a sound.  She eased the door open the rest of the way and breathed out a soft, “oh no.” 

            The room was a mess, with chairs overturned, lamps on the floor, and a spatter of blood on the carpet.  The room was empty.  With no reason now to be quiet, she grabbed her cell phone from her pocket and torn back down the hall.  She punched the numbers frantically as she grabbed for keys and raced for the car.  “Frank!” she yelled when he picked up, “we’re blown!”

            “What!?”  He and Jake were at the track making last minute preparations for tomorrow’s race.  “How!?”

            “I don’t know how!  I saw Ortega leaving the hotel and Alex is gone!  Her room is a bloody mess!  I’m going to try to find her.”

            “Wait!  You can’t do much good by yourself.  Jake and I will be right there, we’re only a few minutes away...”

            “I must have messed it up somehow...”

            He could hear the panic in her voice.  “Slow down,” he tried to sound calm, “whatever happened, we’ll find her, just stay put...”

            “They didn’t leave that long ago, it must have been just a few minutes.  Maybe I can pick up the car somewhere.  Frank, I have to try.”  She was in the car at the end of the hotel driveway.  Left took her south towards the center of town, no reason for Ortega to go there.  Right took her north into the hills bordering the lake.  There were abandoned farmhouses in that direction, as well as a series of caves cut into the steep hillsides.  The caves had once been used as storage by some of the wineries.  “I’m going to head north, out of town on route 14.”

            “OK,” he told her, “Jake and I will head back toward town from the track and see if we can pick up anything from this side.  And Dani, remember, we don’t know at this point what tipped Ortega off, so don’t blame yourself.  Call me if you see anything.”

            They disconnected and Dani headed out  the drive.  The rain was pouring down, hitting the windshield in great sheets.  Even on high speed the wipers couldn’t keep up.  At least, she thought, with the weather this bad there won’t be many cars on the road.  She peered ahead in the gloom, hoping to pick up tail lights, something, anything that would tell her where they had taken Alex.  There was a brief flash of lightening and in that split second she thought she saw a road leading to off her right.  It almost lost in a tangle of brush.  She hadn’t gone far, but reasoned that she would need to check every path off the main road to make sure she didn’t miss anything.  She turned, but in just a few yards the road disappeared into the undergrowth.  There were no broken branches or rutted tracks in the grass.  Clearly, no vehicle had been through here in a very long time.  She reversed and went back to the main road and headed north once again.  Her heart told her to put pedal to the metal and hurry, but her head overruled her.  Go slow, she told herself, you can’t afford to miss anything.  It was an agonizing search.  There was another track leading off to the right and she checked it out, no luck. It was a dead end just like the first one.  She checked out two more and was beginning to lose hope.  It seemed like ages since she had run out of the hotel and in all likelihood Alex was dead by now.  No, she told herself firmly, stop thinking like that.

            The rain had let up slightly and visibility had improved, so she sped up to cover more ground.  Then, just up ahead, her headlights caught a broken down mailbox.  The faded print on the side of the box said “Heron Hill Vineyards.”  There was fresh mud splashed on the box,  clots of dirt still clung to it in spite of the heavy downpour.  It looked as though someone had turned in very quickly, and very recently.  She pulled up to the side of the road, turned off the engine, and got her weapon and a flashlight out of the glovebox.  She checked that the weapon was loaded and a round was chambered and then she started up the narrow track. 

            She kept the flashlight shrouded and worked her way through the underbrush.   The track led up the hill, away from the main road.  Even though the rain had let up, she was soon soaked through with water dripping off leaves.  She ignored the cold and kept moving.  She came through the trees to an open parking area, littered with broken wooden palates.  A gust of wind lashed through the trees, drenching her anew.  In the center of the parking area was a large black SUV.  She crept around the car, saw that it was empty, and  felt the hood.  It was still warm.  She breathed again, they were close.  Now, if only Alex was still alive.

            The open area stood in front of a large metal corrugated door.  The door covered the entrance to a cave that had been carved into the hillside.  A thin line of yellow light showed beneath the door and she crept closer.  There were no windows and so when she got close enough she pressed her ear to the metal.  There were muffled voices coming from the interior, but she couldn’t tell how many and she couldn’t tell if Alex was inside.  She backed away slowly, hid in the undergrowth and took out her phone.  She tried to reach Frank, but the call wouldn’t go through.  She tried the two-way feature, but nothing happened.  Damn! she thought, the hills must be blocking the signal.  She could wait and hope that Frank and Jake could find her, or she could go in alone and see what lay beyond the metal door.  She did not hesitate.  She moved toward the door.

            As soon as they had heard from Dani, Frank and Jake had torn out of the garage at the track and headed back towards town.  Frank tried to reach her on the phone but had no luck.  “We’ll head back towards town, check out the hotel room and see if we can find a clue there.”

            “And then...?”

            “We pray.”  Suddenly, Frank grabbed Jake’s arm, nearly causing him to ditch the car.  “Wait!  The GPS!  It’s in my room at the hotel.  We’ve got Dani bugged!  At least we can find her and with any kind of luck, she may have been able to locate Alex.”  They tore through the rain-soaked night, both men praying they weren’t too late.

            She tried the door knob.  Slowly, at first, and then, when it moved without making noise, she took a deep breath and turned it all the way.  The door swung in on silent hinges.  The entryway was sheltered from the rest of the cave by a stack of wooden crates.  She inched forward and slowly looked around.  There were three of them, Ortega, his body guard, and Alex, tied to an old office chair.  She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but suddenly Ortega exploded at Alex, “Bitch!  You will tell me who you work for!”  His voice, filled with venom, boomed and echoed around the vast space.  He nodded to the body guard.  The man raised his hand and brought the butt of the gun he held across her face.  Dani winced when she saw the blood spatter.  Another blow like that would surely kill her.  She had to do something.

            She burst out from behind the crates and yelled, “Freeze!  Police!”  The body guard turned and fired at her and she hit the ground, rolled and fired back.  Two shots brought down the guard.  She scrambled to her feet.

            Ortega had taken shelter behind Alex and was holding a gun to her head.  “So,”  he said, “you are part of this also.  I learned only this evening of your past association with my old friend Ramon.”

            So it was my fault, she thought, I should have been more careful to cover my tracks.  Now I’ve caused this.  Alex’s head slumped over and Ortega pressed the barrel of the gun harder into her temple.

            His voice was cold, echoing in the vast darkness of the cave.  Somewhere in the distance, water dripped.  “Drop your weapon or she dies immediately.”

            She advanced on him, keeping the gun steady and leveled at his head.  “Drop the gun,”  she said.  Her voice shook slightly, not from fear, but from anger, anger at herself for letting this happen.  “I may let you live.  If you kill her, you will die, slowly, I assure you.”  She saw his eyes flicker for an instant and then she heard a slight movement behind her.  Frank?  Jake?  No!  Someone else!  She knew from the look in Ortega’s eyes, he was actually laughing!

            She ducked and rolled again, trying to reach shelter behind a pile of broken wine casks, but a heavy figure bowled her over like she was a child’s toy.  Her gun skittered across the wet stone floor.  She kicked free, only to find a gun pressed to her temple.  Her attacker grabbed a handful of her hair and dragged her to her feet.  A voice hissed in her ear, “nice to see you again, honey!”  Reyes!  He backhanded her across the face and she went sprawling.  “That’s just the first taste,” he yelled, “then it’s payback time for the beatdown you laid on me a while back!”

            Ortega broke in, “where is he?”

            Reyes replied, “still in the car.”

            “Bring him.  I will keep this one occupied.”

            Reyes went back out the door and Ortega spoke, softly at first, his voice slowly rising, my old friend Phillip has provided me with some interesting background on you, my dear.  Did you think you would be able to fool me?!”

            Reyes returned, holding a stumbling and bleeding Ramon by one arm.  Dani looked up at him.  He was bleeding heavily from a scalp wound, but his eyes were filled with fire.  She got to her feet to go to him, but Ortega waved the gun at her, “don’t move,” he said.  “Where is the child, and his daughter?” he asked Reyes.  Ramon lunged at him but Reyes pushed him to the floor.

            “All I got was him.  The woman and the kid  had too many guards.”

            “Idiot!  I wanted them all!”  Ortega’s face was white with rage and he raised the gun at Reyes. 

            “I can go back and get them later, no problem.”  Reyes was edging towards the open door.

            “I don’t allow second chances,” he said quietly and pulled the trigger.  The noise was deafening in the confined space of the cave and Reyes looked down in surprise at the spreading stain of red that covered his chest.  He collapsed to his knees and then to the floor.

            Outside, Frank and Jake had pulled up to the cave entrance.  They heard the gunshot and bolted out of the car, bracketing the door.  With a nod from Frank, Jake went through the door first and stepped quickly to the right.  Frank came in and dove to the left.  The scene that met them was one of carnage.  Alex, bound to a chair and unconscious, Reyes dead on the floor, Dani bent over Ramon, and Ortega, screaming,  “I will see to it that you never interfere in my business again!  Either of you!” 

            He leveled the gun at Ramon just as Frank stepped from the shadows, “Freeze!  FBI!  Drop the gun!  You’ve got no place left to go!”

            When Ortega looked up he saw two possible targets, Frank, with his gun leveled at his head, and Dani, who was now hurtling across the cave towards him.  He judged Frank to be the most dangerous target and aimed and fired at him.  His shot went wide and he was struck in that instant by Dani as she dove for his gun hand.  Frank and Jake did not dare fire for fear of hitting her. 

            She went down with him, her hands on his arm,  gripping with all her strength. They rolled across the cave floor, locked together in a death struggle, when Dani brought her knee up beneath Ortega’s elbow.  She felt the joint give way with a sickening crack and Ortega screamed as he dropped the weapon.  She picked up the gun and stood over him.  Decision time, said the voice in her head. 

            Dani!” Frank called out as he rushed over.  She did not respond but stood over Ortega as the little man whimpered and gripped his shattered arm. 

            She leaned down and grabbed the lapels of Ortega’s jacket, raising him up off the floor.  She took the gun barrel and shoved it into his mouth.  “You’re just like good old Darrel,” she whispered to him, “and the world would be a better place without you.”  Her eyes were cold, her face hard.  Her internal debate continued - cop? or vigilante?  Which would it be?  Decision time.  The seconds ticked by as she stood over him.  There was not a sound in the cave.  Frank, Jake, Alex and Ramon, froze in place, all of them held their breath.

            She released Ortega and he fell with a thud to the floor.  She stepped back and took careful aim at him, both hands on the pistol grip.  Then  she slowly raised the gun over her head and emptied the clip into the ceiling.  The deafening roar echoed and reechoed around the vaulted stone walls.  Her face was blank as she dropped the empty clip out of the gun, threw the weapon across the floor and stalked out into the night.

            The ambulances screamed away in the darkness and she stood looking out over the lake, its silver waters shivering under the pale starlight.  There was a blanket over her shoulders and a cup of some hot liquid in her hands.  She was tired right to the bone.

            He came up behind her and said, very quietly, “it looks like Alex and Ramon are going to be OK.”  She nodded but said nothing.  He continued, “you did good work tonight.  Finding Alex would have been impossible if you hadn’t done such a thorough search.  That took patience, determination and discipline.  All hallmarks of a very good cop.”  He put the emphasis on the word “cop.”

            She shook her head, “I should have killed the son-of-a-bitch when I had the chance.  He’s probably making a deal with the prosecutors right now.”

            “No, I don’t think so.  Thanks to you, we’ve got his whole organization.  We’ve got him on Reyes’ murder, plus others we’ll probably dig up.  We’ve got his dealers, his suppliers and his entire transport system.  We’ve got his bankers and his money launderers.  He’s got nothing left to give us.  He’ll end up with a needle in his arm.”

            She nodded again.  “But how did I blow it so bad,” she whispered, “how did Ortega find out?”

            “It wasn’t you,” he said softly, “actually, it was Alex.”

            “Alex?”

            Frank nodded, “she got impatient.  She called Toby and got some help hacking into Ortega’s system.  Toby tried to call her back, he needed to tell her that Ortega’s security systems might be triggered by the hacking, but he was too late.  Ortega already traced it to her computer.  So, it was not your fault.”

            She turned to look at him, realization dawning on her face.  She hadn’t blown it, she hadn’t brought on all this pain.  “But what about Reyes?”

            “Reyes told him about Ramon being in the area, and also about your past association with Ramon, but you had already explained that to Ortega.  That by itself might have raised Ortega’s level of suspicion, but it wouldn’t have tipped him off completely.  No, it was Alex, not you.”  He paused and then said.  “when they put her in the ambulance she told me to tell you that she was sorry.  And that you could watch her back anytime.”

            She swallowed hard and then smiled.

            He reached for her, put his arms around her.  She melted into his warmth.  “Welcome to the team,” he said, and kissed her.

The End