M Sellars - The Law Of Three

“Honey.” I tried to soothe her. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Aye, but you will,” she said. “If you die…”

I didn’t want to lie to her, but I didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility either. I had nowhere to redirect the conversation, and I was beginning to share her pain.

“I have to do whatever I can to keep you safe,” I finally said. “That is what this is about. I love you. I will always love you. No matter what.”

She moved her head against me as she slowly shook it. “Aye, I am not ready to be without you.”

“I’m not ready to leave,” I told her.

“But you will…”

“If that is what it takes to keep you safe,” I said. “Then, yes, I will.”

“Do you really think that he would try to come here?”

“If he can’t get me out in the open, yes I do. And I can’t allow that to happen.”

A siren sounded outside, muted by the walls, but audible all the same. I gave her a reassuring squeeze before standing up and moving to the window. I cautiously pulled back the heavy drapes and peered out through the hole then down across the parking lot. I watched the emergency lights of a squad car flickering in chaotic strobes as the vehicle accelerated down the street. The lights disappeared, and the wailing siren slowly faded in the distance. I allowed the insulated fabric to fall shut, and I turned back to face Felicity.

“You don’t have to do this, then,” she insisted, her Irish brogue thick from her ongoing distress.

“Yes I do,” I answered, feeling a strange calm at the decision.

Her nervous fidgeting had been completed, and her spiraling curls now sat atop her head in a loose Gibson-girl. Her green eyes flashed wetly in the dim light as concern deepened the lines in her face. She’d run the gamut-anger, guilt, all of it. The tone in her voice brought everything back around to demands once again.

“What did Ben say,” she contended as if the answer would somehow make a difference.

“The same thing you just said,” I replied.

I took a deep breath as I ran my hand across the lower half of my face, brushing my bearded chin. I winced as my fingers grazed a still-healing wound on my upper lip-a leftover from my stunt with Ben’s van.

Felicity took on a pleading tone as she gazed at me, “Then why are you doing it?”

“Because we can’t keep living like this,” I answered. “Because I want us to have our lives back.”

“How can we have our lives back if you get yourself killed?”

I wasn’t sure if the next words out of my mouth were the truth or a lie. I spoke them anyway. “I’m not going to get myself killed.”

Tears were once again rolling across my wife’s cheeks, and her voice cracked as she trembled. “Damn your eyes, Rowan Linden Gant, you’d better not, then. Aye, you’d better not.”

“Stay right there” were the first words to issue from Ben’s mouth as I walked out of the bedroom.

Felicity was still in the process of making herself presentable before coming out-her words, not mine-and I swung the door shut to give her some privacy. I wasn’t paying all that much attention to what was going on up the hallway as I exited, but his voice was urgent and the instruction concise. The energy forming the sentence told me that I needed to pay heed.

I looked up and saw immediately that he had positioned himself at the opening of the short corridor. His back was to me, and his left hand was extended behind, motioning me to stop. I caught a quick glimpse of his right hand and saw that it was filled with his sidearm.

My heart fluttered and hardness filled my throat as my mouth went almost instantly dry. Unencumbered fear raced from my brain to my stomach and brought more life to the already churning bile. Each of my muscles tensed in unison as I froze, making my knees suddenly feel weak as they locked.

An insistent series of thumps sounded from the front door.

Beyond my friend, I could see Agent Mandalay-her hand wrapped securely about her forty-caliber Sig Sauer and her arm stiffly positioned to repel a close-quarter hostile entry.

I caught my breath as I felt the tension thicken. Ben raised his Beretta and assumed a solid firing posture in a single fluid motion.

“Tell Felicity to stay in the bedroom,” my friend called over his shoulder, keeping his voice low.

My voice was caught in my throat, and I found myself unable to move. He glanced back at me quickly.

“Just stay behind me, Rowan.”

I watched on as Mandalay reached out with her free hand, gripped the doorknob, and then brought her eye toward the security peephole.

Sharp pain arced through my body as my muscles executed the impossible task of tightening even more. I was holding my breath, and my chest was beginning to burn. I heard the latch disengage behind me as Felicity twisted the knob on the bedroom door and began to swing it open.

My immediate thought was to turn and push her back into the room, but I remained frozen. I heard the whoosh of air as she pulled the barrier farther aside, and I shot the hot breath from my lungs as I forced myself to act. I felt my arm unlock-first at the elbow, then at the shoulder. My waist broke free and started to twist as I began to move. Fortunately, I was still looking forward when Mandalay’s shoulders fell to a relaxed position. I stopped myself and jerked as my muscles tensed again. Constance carefully holstered her weapon as she glanced away from the peephole and back to Ben, just as another knock sounded.

“It’s your lieutenant,” she said with a note of relief.

“Friggin’ wunnerful,” he muttered, but he still relaxed noticeably.

“Row? What’s going on?” Felicity’s voice came from behind me, couched with a slight hint of fear.

“Lieutenant Albright appears to be dropping in on us,” I replied as my heart eased back to a normal rhythm.

Felicity screwed up her face in disgust. “Aye, that saigh? Do we have to let her in?”

“That what?” Ben asked.

“Saigh,” she replied as if the Gaelic word was common knowledge. “You know. Bitch.”

“No kiddin’?”

“Aye.”

“Hmph, I gotta remember that one,” Ben muttered then called back to her. “Well, trust me, Felicity, I’m not real excited about her bein’ here myself.”

Mandalay twisted the knob on the deadbolt and unlatched the swing bar security lock then swung the door open. Lieutenant Albright stood on the opposite side, a scowl on her face and her hand raised in preparation to knock once again.

“Just exactly what is going on in here?” she demanded as she breezed in through the open door, instantly locking her eyes on Ben. Her frown deepened measurably the moment she noticed he was in the process of stowing his sidearm in his shoulder rig. She didn’t even bother to acknowledge Mandalay.

“We were just being cautious,” the petite FBI agent announced to the back of the lieutenant’s head.

Albright swung around to face her. Constance shot her a forced smile as she arched her eyebrows.

“Do I know you?” Albright demanded. “Which department are you with?”

Mandalay reached into her jacket and produced a folding leather case which she deftly flipped open with one finger. She thrust the badge and federal ID out at arm length and then made a great show of introducing herself. “Special Agent Constance Mandalay, Federal Bureau of Investigation.” She smiled sweetly once again then as she snapped the badge case closed and slipped it back into her pocket she adopted a mocking tone. “We met this morning, by the way. I guess you were just too busy to remember.”

I couldn’t see the look on the lieutenant’s face, but I made a mental note to ask Constance about it when this was all over because I am certain that it was priceless. I heard Ben stifle a snort and couldn’t help but turn one corner of my mouth up in a partial grin. Even with everything that was going on, I still appreciated the underlying humor in the moment.