Ruthless: Book 2 of the Shattered Chronicles Page 13

  "Can't you drive any faster?" She sniped at Juro.

  "We will be there soon. Be patient. They will hold him until we arrive.”

  "They better! I intend to take care of Cord Alexander myself!"

  "To please Victor?" Juro looked at her.

  Cassie looked at him in sudden fear. Does he know about my attempts to seduce Cord? She tried to read the expressionless face. No, he couldn't. No one knows. I'm safe.

  Haughtily she replied, "To please myself and Victor. Don't forget yourself, Juro. You’re only a servant. I am much more. I will rule by Victor's side. Don't make the mistake of making an enemy of me."

  Juro just looked at her blankly for a moment then turned his attention back to the road.

  Chapter Ten

  Pine Springs, New Mexico

  Cord located the cave entrance and was surprised to find it unguarded. Maybe they don't post guards at night. He proceeded slowly, looking around with every step. Finally, he made it to the opening of the cave.

  Lights beckoned from deep within the tunnel. He crept forward, staying as close to the walls as possible.

  I knew I was right! He thought as he rounded a curve in the tunnel. There just fifty yards away stood trailer after trailer, thick steel sides gleaming dully in lights strung at widely spaced intervals along the tunnel walls. He snapped a couple of pictures. The smartest thing to do would be to turn around and leave, but something inside propelled him forward against his own better judgment.

  Just as he passed the first trailer, a cold metal object prodded him in the back of the head. He jerked around and found himself looking down the barrel of an automatic weapon.

  "Let's go!" The burly man pointed deeper into the tunnel with his gun. Cord swallowed nervously, wondering if he could make it outside if he just ran like hell. The look on the man's face and the big gun changed his mind.

  Nudged by armed man’s gun, he passed the trailers and moved deeper into the tunnel. At last, they came upon an area set up with several tables and chairs. Two thick logging chains hung from thick supporting beams in the ceiling.

  The man pushed him forward toward a chair. Cord looked around for some way to escape. Three more men materialized out of the darkness from beyond the field of the light. The odds were definitely not in his favor

  A fat man who spoke with an unidentifiable accent stopped in front of Cord. "You’ve become a nuisance.” Gesturing to the other two men, the fat man pulled a metal pipe about two feet long out of the waistband of his pants.

  Two men grabbed Cord by his arms and dragged him to the chains hanging from the rafters. “Whoa, hey, hold on!” Cord struggled as terror filled him. “Let’s talk about whatever this is.” He tried to break free, but a third man clubbed him over the back of the head with the butt of a gun. Sparkling lights dominated his vision and he staggered. The men handcuffed him to the chains with his arms spread out to the sides, and then they took a seat at one of the tables.

  The fat man approached Cord, tapping the metal pipe on his hand. "Now, worm, this is how we deal with people who interfere with our plans.” With a grin, he swung the pipe with all his strength. The blow landed on the right side of Cord's body. A crack from a breaking rib accompanied the grunt of pain Cord expelled. The fat man and his audience laughed

  Cord almost passed out from the pain, but he didn't scream until the next blow landed. Over and over, the fat man pounded him with the metal pipe, laughing as the blood began to ooze from his mouth and ears.

  He felt like he was being broken into a thousand pieces. Cord had never felt such pain. Endlessly it went on and on, until he wished he would pass out so that he wouldn't have to feel anymore.

  Finally, the pain and loss of blood robbed him of consciousness, and he slumped slackly from the chains. His face was battered and swollen almost beyond recognition.

  "Unshackle him!” A voice startled the fat man and his accomplices who were busy laughing over his skill with a pipe.

  Cassie and Juro walked into the circle of light as the men unfastened the handcuffs and dragged Cord over to the side of the cavern to dump him on the ground.

  Cassie picked up a plastic container of water and poured it over Cord’s head. Just barely regaining consciousness, he struggled to raise his head, "Cassie, is that you? What are you doing here?” His words came out blurred and raspy due to his split and swollen lips and fractured jaw.

  Cassie looked at him lying propped against the rough craggy wall. It didn’t look like he should have survived the beating. His face was almost destroyed, split, and swollen, his eyes barely able to open.

  Cord tried to push himself upright but failed. As he slumped, his breathing became shallower and more labored. The broken ribs hampered his efforts to draw the much–needed oxygen into his lungs.

  Cassie leaned down and pulled his head back by his hair. "He's finished.” She let his head drop forward. "We'll dump the body in the desert."

  She turned to the men responsible for Cord’s condition. "I didn't want him dead!”

  "He had this with him." The fat man handed Cassie Cord’s cell phone.

  "Bring him!" She ordered as she snatched the phone and stomped out of the cave.

  Juro slung Cord across his shoulder. He followed Cassie outside and dumped Cord in the backseat then Juro moved toward the driver's seat.

  Cassie cut him off. "I'll drive."

  Without comment, Juro walked around and climbed in the passenger's seat as she gunned the engine.

  "Where are we taking him?" Juro looked over at Cassie whose face was set in a hard mask.

  "Where no one will ever find him.”

  Juro turned and looked out of the window at the darkness. All night they drove. Occasionally Juro would turn to look at Cord. He appeared to be dead but Juro was sure there was life still in him. He said nothing about it and remained silent throughout the night.

  Around eight o'clock in the morning they turned off the interstate. Cassie found a gas station and pulled in. "Cover him up." She said as she got out and pumped the gas.

  Once back on the road, they followed the winding highway southeast. After many hours, Cassie headed due east. Juro wondered why she was driving so far. They could have left Cord anywhere during the long night. But she was a woman possessed by her own inner demons, and Juro had no interest in learning of them or helping her battle them.

  Finally, around ten–thirty they turned toward the lands of the Navajo Reservation in the northwestern part of New Mexico, in the Colorado Plateau.

  Juro looked around as Cassie drove. This was a harsh, broken land of wide plains and valleys, sharp cliffs and canyons and lonely flat–topped mesas. The landscape was one of rugged splendor, isolated and inhospitable.

  Just before they made it to Shiprock, Cassie turned off the main road onto a small winding path that led out across the flatlands. Towering more than sixteen hundred feet, Shiprock looked down on them, its shape resembling a ship under full sail. Cassie drove about twenty miles west then pulled off the narrow road onto what looked like a cart path. Ten miles down the path, she pulled over.

  "This should be far enough," she said as she picked up the car phone and began to dial.

  "A little further," Juro said quietly. There was something in the air here, something that made his skin tingle.

  Cassie was too tired to argue. She had been up all night and her jaw was beginning to really hurt. She started the car and drove another couple of miles before she stopped again.

  "Dump him!" She ordered and grabbed the phone to place a call.

  Juro opened the back door, pulled Cord' from the car and hefted Cord over his shoulder. He heard Cassie ask that the plane be sent for them and say that they would meet it in Durango, Colorado, later that afternoon.

  Several hundred yards from the car Juro lay Cord on the hard dry earth, hidden from view of the path by a patch of creosote bushes and gamma grass. It was probable that Cord would die soon, but it was unwise to trust chance. Juro knelt and ra
ised his hand to deliver the deathblow. Before he could strike the distinctive rattle from the grass, had his skin prickling. He rose and backed away cautiously, watching a fat rattlesnake emerge from the grass.

  Juro retraced his steps and stopped beside the car. Cassie was busy looking into the mirror, fussing with her hair.

  "What?" she asked testily.

  "He's not dead."

  "I don't care. Get in! Let the buzzards finish him."

  Odessa, Texas

  Smith and Samuels spent the afternoon wandering through the crowd of people, trying to find anyone who would admit to knowing Cord Alexander and his whereabouts.

  Thanks to the loyalty Big Jeff inspired in all those who knew him, they were thwarted in their efforts. Everyone they spoke with claimed they were all just there to party. No one would admit to knowing Cord

  Samuels spotted Trevor in the crowd and recognized him from the dossier on the Alexander family. He fought his way through the crowd toward the young man. Just as he got close, a huge figure blocked his way.

  "Where ya going, cutie?”

  "Huh?" Samuels looked at the figure barring his way. Before him was the biggest woman he had ever seen. At least six foot five, she must have weighed in at close to three hundred pounds. Garbed in tight leather pants and a matching halter-top decorated with metal studs, she stood with her feet planted widely apart, grinning down at him.

  Samuels' eyes were wide. "Uh, excuse me please." He tried to get around the woman, but she grabbed him under his arms and lifted him up off the ground.

  She held him close to her heavily made–up face. "Wanna have some fun?"

  "No, thank you." Samuels felt like a fool dangling off the ground, unable to get away from the giant. "If you'll please put me down," he said politely, "I'll just be about my business."

  The woman plunked him to the ground but kept a tight grip on him. "And what business is that?"

  “If you’ll allow me?” Samuels pointed to his jacket and she released him. He pulled his identification from his pocket, "Mark Samuels, FBI. I'm looking for a man named Cord Alexander. Perhaps you know him."

  "FBI?" The woman squealed with delight. "Hot damn! I ain't never had me a Fed before. Come on G–man, I'm gonna rock your world!"

  Before Samuels could protest the woman slung him across her shoulder like a sack of flour. The crowd parted with raunchy laughter as she made her way to the hotel entrance.

  From the edge of the crowd, Trevor watched. He elbowed Big Jeff and pointed in the direction of the big woman with the man on her shoulder. "Hey, look, Stella's got a new man!"

  Big Jeff turned around and stared. "Better him than me." He laughed and slapped Trevor on the shoulder. “I remember getting drunk on tequila one night in Mexico and ending up in the sack with Stella. That was one ride I won’t ever forget, as much as I’d like to.”

  Trevor laughed along with the rest of the crowd, hooting and cheering Stella on as she made her way up the outside stairs to a vacant room.

  Big Jeff leaned over. "Let me tell you, Trev, whatever you do, don't never get caught in bed with a three-hundred-pound woman. Them gals will turn you every way but loose."

  *****

  "Come on, now little buddy." The man urged as he walked effortlessly through the burning sand. "It's not my fault you're a donkey. Now keep up, okay?"

  The man continued across the dry plain, purposefully striding across the hot landscape. The donkey plodded along, pulling a small two-wheeled cart behind him.

  The sun was high in the sky, burning down like a fiery torch on the two travelers. A hot wind blew, sending stinging sand into their faces and blasting everything in its path.

  Yet on and on the man continued, chattering away to the donkey as he made his way unimpeded by the elements. "Come on, come on," he urged the animal. "We're almost there."

  All through the night and the morning he’d walked, his destination clear in his mind. Showing no signs of fatigue, his steps were as lively and strong now as when the journey had first begun.

  The long loose robe he wore flapped around him in the wind. Beneath it, he wore an old cotton button up shirt and faded jeans. His long gray hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his kind blue eyes were as fathomless as a clear still lake.

  Even though he was a large man, he seemed to glide along the earth, riding the current of the wind as he made his way nimbly around a patch of brush and bramble. The wind became suddenly angry, picking up dead branches and clumps of dry sandy soil and driving the debris furiously across the landscape.

  Yet the man seemed untouched by the forces of nature. Instead, he seemed to be more a part of it. Unhampered by the fierce wind that buffeted the donkey and shook the small cart, he continued.

  Odessa, Texas

  "Jeff! Jeff! Wake up man!" Trevor shook the big man's shoulder.

  "Huh?" Jeff's eyes opened a crack. "Oh god, my head!" he groaned and rolled over, holding his head in both hands. When he finally managed to get into a sitting position, he continued to hold his head, mumbling some sort of profanity in an almost inaudible voice.

  "Come on, man, wake up!" Trevor was getting annoyed. "I can't find Dad anywhere, and I need your help. Now!"

  "Huh?" Big Jeff lowered his hands from his head and tried to focus on Trevor. "What time is it?"

  Trevor was fit to be tied. "It's four o'clock in the afternoon." He paced back in forth in front of the bed. "He should be back by now. He's been gone all night!"

  Jeff flopped back down on the bed with a groan. "Ah, he just don't want to pay the bill. He'll be back," he said, rolling over like he was going to go back to sleep.

  "Well, I'm going to look for him.” Trevor stood over Jeff, shouting. "With or without you!"

  Trevor stomped from the room and went outside to his bike. He slung his leg over the big machine and stomped down, bringing the engine to life. Just then tBig Jeff came crashing out of his room. He stumbled and fell to the sidewalk.

  Big Jeff held his boots in his hand, his big hairy belly exposed as he sat on the hard pavement looking back at Trevor. "Hold up Trev!" he shouted.

  Trevor couldn't help but smile as he watched Jeff pull on his boots and stand, pulling his tee shirt down.

  Big Jeff climbed on his Hog and looked over at Trevor. "Four o'clock, huh? Well, it's time for me to get up anyway." With a grin, he gunned the engine and shot off across the parking lot with Trevor in hot pursuit.

  Cotton Creek, Texas

  The moment Morgan entered the clinic, her assistant began to update her on the latest news. "I just heard on the radio that the Vice President is in a coma. They don't know if he'll recover or not. They have specialists flying in from all over the world!" she spewed as she followed Morgan into her office.

  "They also said that the police and the secret service are working on finding the killers, but so far they have no idea who did it. Can you imagine, Mrs. Alexander? He was just starting his day, happy as could be, sitting down to breakfast with his wife on their terrace. Then boom! Out of the blue, his wife drops over dead with a bullet in her head. Poor man. He didn't even have time to react before he got one in the head, too. I mean, that's really horrible, isn't it?"

  By the time Sandy, who was once her temporary, but had recently become her permanent executive assistant, had finished her update, Morgan had fixed herself a cup of coffee and picked up the stack of mail on her desk. One thick envelope caught her attention. She looked at the postmark. Odessa, Texas.

  "Yes." A sense of impatience and dread took hold of her as she stared at the handwritten address on the envelope. "I heard the news on the way in."

  "Oh," Sandy looked crestfallen at not being the first to tell her, "Well, anyway, it really is terrible. Say, have you heard anything from your husband? The girl interns were talking about how cute he is the other day, and it reminded me that you’ve been trying to get in touch with him."

  Morgan gave Sandy a hard look, "I don't want to talk about my husband. Now, please call Sa
m at the ranch office and tell him that I want him up here in an hour to go over things. Then call Juan Ramirez and tell him I need to see him immediately. Got it?"

  Sandy finished scribbling in a steno book. "Gotcha!" she said headed for the door. "Hey, Mrs. Alexander," she stopped and turned back to Morgan, "I really didn't mean to tick you off about your husband."

  "That's okay," Morgan waved it away.

  "Oh!" the girl snapped her fingers, "You have a couple of messages. I left them on my desk. Hold on and I'll get them."

  “I have a few of calls to make. Why don’t you give me a few minutes?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “And close the door on your way out.”

  Morgan stared at the envelope in her hand. There was no return address, and she didn’t recognize the handwriting. Who besides Cord would send her something at the clinic? There was only one way to find out. She ripped open the envelope.

  Inside was a stack of photographs. She flipped through them quickly. The first was of Cord, sitting at a table in a restaurant alone. The second showed Cord again, sitting at the table. Behind him was the red-haired woman, Cassandra. Morgan’s chest tightened as she looked at the next photo.

  A sob rose in her throat. The third photo showed Cord kissing Cassandra. Morgan let the pictures fall to the desk. They fanned out as they fell, revealing bits and pieces of other shots.

  Despite the certainty that to look further would mean more pain, Morgan spread the pictures out evenly on the desktop and stared at them. Something inside her screamed. Each shot was of Cord and Cassandra: walking with their arms around one another, standing at a hotel room door, looking into one another’s eyes, sitting at the table, his hand holding hers.

  Another silent scream rose inside Morgan and before she realized what she was doing she snatched up the letter opener and stabbed it down in the center of one of the photos, skewering it to the desk.

  Why someone would have sent her such pictures was beyond her imagining. Was someone trying to prove to her that Cord really was in love with Cassandra? And if so, who?