Catherine Coulter - The Edge

"Turn out the light, Laura."

The room went dark.

We heard a whimper from the bed.

I could feel him resist when he heard the girl's distress. "We didn't do anything to her," I said. "She'll be all right, if you don't do anything stupid. Now walk."

The moment we had him back in his office, Laura motioned for me to stop. I kept three feet between me and Molinas. She walked to the door, opened it quietly, and leaned out. She turned back to me and nodded.

"Now," I said quietly, "you're going to take us to the other agents."

He said nothing, merely walked from the office and turned left down the corridor. "You're dead if one of your soldiers tries to take us out."

He stiffened but didn't say a thing.

"If you're dead, what will happen to the girl? She's already tied down. A regular offering, I'd say."

He nodded, and I heard him curse, low and fluently. Even with a Spanish last name, those curses were pure American.

"Who is that girl?"

He just kept walking.

"You might as well tell me."

Finally, not turning to face me, he answered, "She is my daughter."

Where are your men, Molinas?" I said near his left ear. "Some operation you run here. Hard to believe you haven't been run out of town."

"The men are not professionals," Molinas said, and I could tell that disgusted him. "They have courage but no discipline."

"I buy that," I said. "Now, tell us where we are."

"No, you can't kill me. If you do, you won't ever get your friends out of here. I can't tell you anything. If I did, I would be dead and so would my daughter. Very few people know about this place. If you find out on your own, I cannot be blamed. Your friends are just around that corner. There are three guards around the door."

Suddenly, Laura put her finger against her lips. We heard a man talking in a low voice. She walked quietly to the corner and looked around it. She came back. "There are three guards up ahead, just like he said. They're sitting on the floor outside a door. Their heads are down, but I'm not certain they're asleep."

"The other agents are behind that door?" I asked.

"I wasn't lying."

He was pale now, but he didn't say anything more.

"Del Cabrizo's behind the whole operation, isn't he?" Laura asked Molinas.

"I can't tell you anything. You can kill me if you must but I know that you won't harm my daughter."

"We'll do whatever we need to," I said. "I want you to walk ahead to the men and tell them that you intend to speak to the prisoners. You will tell them to go outside until you come to tell them to return. If you screw this up, Molinas, I will personally shoot you. I won't harm your daughter, but I will shoot you.

Trust me on this."

He looked me straight in the face. He had dark blue eyes, and there was something familiar about them.

The shape, perhaps, slightly tilted at the corners. They were his sister's eyes, Elaine Tarcher's. He said in a low voice, "My daughter is innocent. She has suffered enough. If I release your friends, will you leave here?"

"You can hardly expect things to go on as they have."

"No, once you escape, my job here is over. Then I will deal with what will happen."

I shrugged. "Your daughter, who is so precious to you-why is she here with you? Have you let her watch you pump drugs into people?"

"No. We have only been here for a short time. We arrived just before you did. I couldn't leave Marran back home. She needs me. You cannot take me with you as a hostage. You cannot leave her here alone.

She would be savaged by these men. She would kill herself. She's tried before. I will do as you ask, Mr.

MacDougal."

He was pleading with me, his expression as raw as his voice. His daughter was more important to him than his pride, certainly more important to him than his own life. "Let me see what kind of shape my friends are in. Then I'll decide what to do with you. You try to screw me, Molinas, and you're dead. Just think of your daughter before you decide to betray me. By the way, I speak Spanish."

Molinas nodded and straightened. As he walked forward, he looked like a man used to command, a man in charge. Laura and I watched him kick one man in the knee. The man cried out. The other two awoke.

The man Molinas had kicked scrambled to his feet, excuses tumbling out of his mouth. I understood only that they were excuses. Molinas raised his foot and kicked another man in the ribs. The third managed to jump away.

He used his hands while he spoke to the men, and his voice was low and angry. If he'd had my gun I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd shot all three of them. He motioned for them to pick up their weapons. He stood there watching them scurry away. He had told them to go outside and stay there.

Then, after just a slight pause, he turned and walked back to Laura and me. He held up a key ring, pulled out a long brass key and handed it to me.

"This is the one."

I gave the key to Laura. "Be careful. There might be a man inside."

She nodded. I remained behind with Molinas, the Bren Ten pressed against his neck. "Nice clothes," I said close to his ear while we waited. "I guess dealing drugs to kids lets you hobnob with a lot of Italian designers."

"I haven't been involved in drugs for five years," he said. "I am doing this for other reasons."

"Yeah, right. And you keep American federal agents just for the fun of it." I focused on the slowly opening door. Laura eased inside, crouched low. I saw a light come on, then nothing. "Let's go. One try at me and I'll pull the trigger."

Savich was half-crouched, ready to attack. He looked pale and drawn, his clothes torn and dirty, and there was such rage in his eyes that suddenly I didn't want to know what had been done to him. "I was hoping you'd come," he said, as he slowly straightened.

I came into the small room, pushing Molinas in front of me. Savich's hands closed around his throat and he shook him like he was a rag. Molinas did nothing to defend himself.

"Savich, stop it." I tried to jerk Molinas away from him, but Savich was out of control.

Laura cried out, "Sherlock. Oh, God!"

Sherlock was the only thing that could have distracted him and Laura knew it. Savich dropped his hands and whirled about, dropping to his knees beside Sherlock. She was unconscious, huddled on her side.

He gathered her against him and rocked her back and forth, back and forth, kissing her dirty hair. Savich looked up. His face was battered. He'd been beaten. I nearly pulled the trigger. "By God, what have you done to him? You damned bastard. I should have let him strangle you."

"He is all right," Molinas said, and I knew his throat hurt. Savich was strong, very strong, no matter what they'd done to him.

I shoved Molinas to the floor and closed the door, then walked to where Savich sat, still rocking Sherlock on his legs.

"Thanks for coming, guys. I'm glad to see you, to say the least. I did try, but I couldn't get us out of here.

I failed. I took out a couple of them but then four others came in and I got the crap kicked out of me for my efforts."

He was coherent. He was himself.

"They didn't drug you?" I asked.

"Not after I woke up when we first got here, wherever here is. They took Sherlock. I guess they wanted me to be clearheaded enough to see what the drug did to her."

"What happened to her?"

"When she's awake, she just keeps reliving that awful time in the past when she was hunting down that serial killer, Martin Jones." I was nodding. I knew all about Martin Jones. Savich explained for Laura.

"She was his prisoner. It was terrifying for her. She had nightmares about it for months. With the drug, it's come back, only worse. Jesus, you can feel her terror, her confusion." He looked over at Molinas. "I'm going to kill that sadistic bastard."