Chapter Fourteen
"Wow, I'm impressed," Naomie said when Russell entered her room. "Twenty-three minutes. What did you manage to get?"
He gave her a look she read as bitch please but was apparently too polite to say. "All of it. Waiting in a lab on the seventh floor."
"Woohoo!" She bounded out of bed and headed for the closet, already pulling off the hospital gown. She dropped the gown, opened the closet and cursed. "Fuck! Where are my clothes?"
"I don't know. Maybe still downstairs."
Naomie whirled around and slammed her hands on her hips. "I need clothes."
"Yes, I can see that."
"Well?"
"Well, what do you want me to do? Give you mine?"
"Hmm. No, as tempting as the offer is, I need my own. Can we get some scrubs?"
"Give me five minutes. And put your gown on."
Naomie realized that his tone was not altogether scolding. The added something spoke to the woman in her. To cover the effect it had, she smirked. "Come on, I'm sure you've seen a naked woman a time or two."
"Yep. I'll be back."
She blew out a breath, snatched up the gown and slid into it. Damn it all, she couldn't let Russell Walker get to her. There was no way she was ever going to get involved with him, so she needed to stop seeing him in any light other than a partner in the quest to save Reese and Mathias and later, as an employer.
Yes, that was exactly what she'd do.
Five minutes later he returned, with a set of scrubs and even a pair of feet coverings. To be more demure, Naomie thanked him and went into the bathroom to change. Inside of two minutes they were out the door and headed for the lab.
Once inside with the door locked, Naomie put her bee under the microscope and then started mixing and preparing the ingredients Russell had made available to her.
"What exactly are you doing?" He asked.
"I'm giving the bee's stinger some juice."
"Pardon?"
"I designed the bee to have a stinger. Bees inject apitoxin when they sting. It's not lethal, obviously. But I discovered that you can create a kind of synthetic that's a cross between apitoxin and tetrodotoxin. “
"Which is what?"
"It's a sodium channel blocker that inhibits the firing of action potentials in neurons by binding to the voltage-gated sodium—"
"Whoa, try that in science for dummy speak."
"It's the toxin produced by the pufferfish and causes paraesthesia in the face and extremities along with dizziness, nausea and epigastric pain. I discovered—quite by accident, I should add—that if you create a synthetic version of the two, combine them with a common anesthesia and a little LSD, you have a pretty powerful little poison that acts pretty fast."
"Define fast."
"Twenty to thirty seconds."
"That's not exactly instant. Can't you create one of those?"
"You watch too much tv, cowboy. It can't be done. You want someone knocked out in two seconds, hit 'em with a lead pipe."
"So why the stinger thing?"
"Because I don't carry a gun and it can be a good distraction."
"I won't argue with that."
"Good. Now pull on a pair of gloves and help."
"I don't know what to do."
"You don't have to. I'll tell you."
Naomie turned her attention to the task at hand. When her phone rang, she was so absorbed, she jumped. "Shit." She carried the phone over to the side of the room and stood with her back to the wall.
"What are you doing?" Russell asked.
"Keeping anyone from knowing I'm in a lab. You know, mad scientist and all that."
She answered the call. "Well?"
"We'll meet to make the exchange." The man spat out a set of coordinates and finished with "at dawn."
"Who will be there?"
"What the fuck difference does it make?"
"I so hate dealing with dullards. Call your boss and tell him I'll only deal with him."
"You can't tell him what to do. He'll just tell me to kill them."
"Fat chance. You kill them, and he doesn't get what he wants. You, on the other hand, get to die because I'll personally find you and make you die screaming like a little girl."
There was silence on the line for a few seconds. "We'll be in touch."
The line went dead, and Naomie looked at Russell. "I don't mind saying that you can be a little scary, Doc." Russell commented.
"You don't know the half of it. But right now we need to get to it. We still have a lot to do."
*****
"Any luck?" Mathias asked.
"All I can do is rub the restraint against the wood, and that's not enough. You?"
"My right leg is free. Working on my left."
"What about your hands?
"I'm able to grip the metal pickets in the chair and have one pretty loose. If I can push it enough to break it, I can free my hands."
There was silence for a few moments, and when he heard her voice again, it seemed to be lacking a bit of confidence. "I want you to know that I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I loved Wiley, and Linc like brothers and their mother was like one to me, as was Mrs. Quinn. Naomie and I were friends with benefits for a little while and discovered the benefits just got in the way of our friendship."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to. Please. When we met, I thought it'd be fun and games between us because that's all I ever allow. Loving people is terrifying because when you lose them the hurt is so bad, you want to curl up in a ball and just become nothing. But, I couldn't help liking and then loving you, and I'll die before I let anyone hurt you. I promise you that."
Mathias heard the truth in her words and felt the emotion clear across the room. He wished there was light so that he could see her when he said his piece but maybe it would be easier in the dark. He hadn't spoken of things that haunted him to many people, and it wasn't easy.
"There was a time when I felt like I'd never even want to smile again. A mission went south, and innocent people died. I couldn't get past it. I couldn't close my eyes without seeing, hearing and smelling it and I thought maybe it would drive me out of my mind.
"Trina Judge healed me. She's like Wiley, you know. An energy healer. Anyway, after that, I didn't want to blow my brains out, but I realized how lonely I was and that was almost as bad. I didn't think I'd find anyone to love or a woman who'd love me. I could get a date, and there are plenty of women who like the idea of taking a big Indian into their beds, but love wasn't on the table.
"Then you showed up and yeah, at first it was just heat and need and I couldn't wait to get my hands on you. Only it quickly became more. You somehow got inside me, into the part that no one else sees and I fell for you. I love you, Reese and you are not going to die for me. Not today and not at all. We'll beat these bastards. I promise you that. All I need is an opportunity, and then I'll take them apart.
"And that is a guarantee."
"Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?
Mathias chuckled. "I think I might."
"Nice to know we think—hey, what's that? Do you hear it?"
"Yes."
The sound of pounding and a woman's voice shouting. "I know you're in there Bobby Dean Wilkins and you best get yourself out here. I brung the preacher and I ain't leaving till you do right by me. Do you hear me, Bobby Dean?"
"Oh damn. It's Naomie." Reese said. "It's about to get real."
Dressed in a denim skirt that hit around mid-thigh with rhinestones on the pockets in a star pattern, pink cowboy boots, a white tank top that was low enough in the front to display a pink push-up bra and her hair cascading over one shoulder in curls, Naomie pounded on the front door of the old farm-house.
"This is a bad idea," Russell said for the third time. How she'd managed to talk the nursing staff at the hospital to round up the outfits they wore was a mystery. Here she was looking like a Dixie whore and him wearing a minister's collar. He should've had better sense than to let her talk him into this.
"Shhh!" She frowned at him then beat on the door again. "I know you're in there, Bobby Dean. Billy Meeks told me you wus staying here with your granddaddy so you might as well get your skinny butt out here!"
The light beside the door came on, and she took a step back. The door opened, and a man looked through the rusted screen. "What the hell you want?"
"You better get Bobby Dean out here right this minute."
"There ain't no Bobby Dean here you crazy bitch."
"Preacher, did you hear that?" Naomie grabbed the handle of the screen door and yanked it open. "You're going straight to hell. Bobby Dean! You hear me? Get out here Bobby!"
The man stepped out onto the porch. "I told you, there ain't no Bobby here. Now git!"
"Bobby Dean!" Naomie shoved at the man. "Bobby!"
The man reared back like he was going to hit her. "You crazy—"
"You're gonna want to rethink that move, son." Russell was up the steps onto the porch, with his gun pointed right at the man's forehead before the man could strike a blow.
Naomie jerked free, scooted around the man and plucked a handgun from the back waistband of his pants. "How many people in the house?"
"Fuck you." The man kept his eyes on Russell.
"Don't make me ask you again."
"Fuck you, bitch."
"That's Mzzz Bitch, to you."
Russell didn't know who was more surprised when she pointed the gun downward and fired. The man howled and reached for support. He ended up with his back plastered against the wall of the house, white-faced and gasping in pain. His right foot encased in an old boot now sported a bullet hole.
"Now, let's try that again," Naomie pointed the gun at the man's crotch as he struggled to stand. "How many people in the house?"
"Kill 'em, Donny!" The man yelled and a moment later, the sound of pounding feet could be heard inside the house.
Naomie looked at Russell, and he saw fear on her face. Not for herself, he thought, but for Reese. With no time to think, he holstered his gun and laid the wounded man out with a punch. To her credit, Naomie didn't even blink.
"Stay behind me," Russell ordered and slowly eased open the door.
*****
When Mathias heard the man yell, he knew they were out of time. With every ounce of strength in him, he rocked the metal chair back once then again. The bolts holding it to the floor released with the splintering of wood. He fell back, rolled over and got to his feet. With one jerk the chair picket broke and last bit of tape holding his hands released.
At almost the same moment, one of the men bounded down the steps two at a time. He wasn't wearing a mask. He'd no more reached the last step when Mathias swung the ruined chair and knocked him halfway back up the stairs where he crumpled and rolled back down, unconscious.
A shout from the top of the stairs and gunfire had Mathias diving and rolling. The second man ran down the stairs, waving his gun and yelling. "You fucking better freeze!"
He made the mistake of running by Reese, who kicked out and tripped him. That was all Mathias needed. He was on the man in a blink, wrapping one hand around the man's gun hand. The man would have gone to his knees from Mathias crushing his hand, but Mathias yanked the man toward him and punched him in the face.
After that, there was no longer any reason to hold onto the man. He was unconscious, so Mathias dropped him and rushed over to Reese.
Just as he was ripping the tape from her wrists, Russell and Naomie ran down the stairs. "Oh, thank goodness." Naomie ran over, hugged Reese and then Mathias. "Are you both okay?"
"We're fine," Mathias said and gave her the once-over. "Nice outfit." He then looked at Russell. "You too, Preacher."
Naomie rolled her eyes. "Whatever. It worked, didn't it?"
"Yeah, but how does this help us find out who's responsible?"
"I have the coordinates for the meeting place. So, we take these jerks truck and go make that meeting."
"With backup," Mathias said. "I need to find my phone."
"They took mine, too," Reese added then looked at the men on the floor. "Maybe we should tie them up?"
"Good idea. I nominate the men to do that while we look for your phones." Naomie said.
"Fine." Mathias agreed.
Reese and Naomie headed upstairs. Mathias looked around, spotted a roll of duct tape on the floor near the wall and used it to tape the men's wrists behind their backs and their ankles together. He and Russell dragged them over to the wall and propped them up.
"They might be able to get their backs together and get that tape off their wrists," Russell pointed out.
"Probably, but by then the whole thing will be over, and without phones or a car, it'll take them a while to get to a place they can make a call. And I figure we'll call the law before too long. Besides, I plan on barring that door at the top of the stairs."
"Works for me." Russell reached out to stop Mathias as he started for the stairs. "One thing. This meeting. Naomie insisted that it be with whoever was paying these guys."
"And?"
"And how would she or Reese know if the person they meet is, in fact, in charge?"
"Good question, but even if it isn't, it's a step closer."
"Possibly, but we're treading on thin ice here, son. We should call the law in on this."
"How about the military?"
"Pardon?"
"Reese said she made a deal to give the military the plans for the synthetic bee, but not the programming. So, it would make sense to let them protect the invention since they want it."
"But they now think it doesn't work."
"They think it doesn't work for pollinating. The jury's still out on whether they can weaponize it."
"Good point. How do we get them here in time?"
"We don't. At least not the brass. But we can get a SEAL team here in time. I just need a phone."
Russell pulled out his phone and handed it to Mathias. "I'll go up and make sure Naomie hasn't strung up that guy she shot in the foot."
"She shot him in the foot?" Mathias looked up from dialing.
"Damn sure did."
"She's a real spitfire."
"That's one word for it."
Mathias' call was answered. "I need help," he said.
"Where and when?" Deacon answered.
"Getting that info now." Mathias took off up the steps to find Reese. With luck, by dawn, this chapter would be ending. And then he fully intended to hold Reese to her word because it was time.
He was ready to be married.