Desert Orchid… Chapter Twenty Five… it’s all happening…
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Greetings, my darlings,
It’s getting colder, with the weather forecasters calling what’s coming at the weekend and into next week, The Beast From The East, meaning a freezing wind from Siberia. Something to do with a warming in the stratosphere above the jet stream…. We’re wrapping up nice and warm to prepare for it.
We’re coming to the end game of the story…..
Enjoy!
Desert Orchid – Copyright
By CC MacKenzie
Copyright © C C MacKenzie 2014
Chapter Twenty Five
The Monroe brothers took the lead through the tunnels.
They moved fast, with grace and stealth, like big black cats.
Their men followed, with Khalid and Sarif bringing up the rear. The smell of dank earth, and a darkness relieved only by the torches lighting the way, plus it was ice cold, all conspired to make Khalid feel he’d entered a tomb. A place where the dead reigned supreme. A couple of times he was certain he’d felt a ghostly fingertip slide down his cheek before realising it was a spider’s web. His fertile imagination seemed to torture him with thoughts of what Charisse was going through, down here all alone, in the clutches of a monster.
His belly seemed to plunge, as if dropped down an elevator shaft, at the thought of her.
The too loud explosion of a single gunshot made him jolt before the Monroes and their team sprinted ahead.
Khalid was right on their heels with Sarif at his shoulder as they ran into scene of utter chaos.
Bats, thousands of them, whirled crazily in the air. Their too high cries rang in his ears.
The amonia scent of their guano made his eyes water.
But then he saw Arabella untying Charisse.
His beloved’s face was filthy and streaked by tears.
She wore one shoe, and why that made him sob in his throat he had no fucking idea.
Within seconds she was in his arms, her body plastered against his, and he just held on tight.
“See you haven’t lost your eye. Nice shot, Bella.” Bruce Monroe squatted over a very dead Omar studying the hole in his forehead, then he shifted out of the way of the blood pooling at the back of the bastard’s head. “Could have done with him alive, darling.”
Since there was no response, he glanced up to find a very tense and flustered Arabella being held too close by a Prince who was inspecting her face.
“What happened? Are you unhurt?” Sarif asked her in a gruff voice.
“I’m fine,” she told him. Sliding out of his arms, pink cheeked, she turned to Bruce. “I had no choice. He was about to rape Charisse. The man is built like a tank, if I’d injured him, he would have killed her. I couldn’t take the chance.”
Khalid searched his wife’s face, and Charisse read alarm mixed with a furious outrage that burned as hot as the sun.
“Did he touch you?”
She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. “He was about to sodomise me.” The shudder that rocked her made her teeth rattle. “Arabella killed him, thank God.”
A soft whoop of glee from the other side of the cave made them turn.
“The mother lode.” Wallace Monroe held up two cell phones, a short-wave radio and a satellite phone. “I’ll get these to the tech guys. Hopefully we’ll find out who was paying him.”
“It was my father,” Charisse told them. “He must be here because Omar was going to take me to him after he…” Her voice wobbled in a way that seriously annoyed her. The time had come for her to fight back. Anger, the need for vengeance, burned nice and bright in her heart. She refused to be a victim. She refused to live in fear. But no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t stop the awful trembling.
Then she found herself wearing Khalid’s sweater, being lifted in his strong arms. The sweater drowned her. His scent and the wonderful warmth of his body made her snuggle her face into his neck.
“She’s freezing,” Khalid said. “I need to get her out of here.”
It was clear that Bruce Monroe had everything under control. So Khalid turned, nodded to a couple of soldiers who lit the way with their torches, and took his wife home.
Arabella turned to the Monroe brothers, and Sarif.
“Find Pascal Chanteluelle. This thing will never be over until we do.”
Bruce Monroe’s dark eyes went fierce before he blew out a long whistle.
“Chanteluelle? Fuck’s sake, Bella. He’s been on Interpol’s radar for years. He’s untouchable. What the hell have you got us into here?”
“Scared, soldier boy?” Arabella taunted.
“How do you know this?” Sarif’s hawk like features were sharp as he fired the question at Bruce.
“We have family who work for the National Central Bureau of Interpol, cousins,” Bruce responded. And then flashed super-white teeth. His smile didn’t reach his Celtic blue eyes. “Can’t tell you any more than that, otherwise I’d have to kill you.”
Sarif returned the smile, shark to shark. “Quite a family you have, Monroe.”
Still kneeling on the filth on the floor, Wallace Monroe gave a snort as he rifled through Omar’s possessions. “You have no idea, Your Highness.”
Omar’s body was being lifted into a black rubber body bag and zipped up.
Six of the men grabbed a handle and hefted it onto their shoulders, and one grunted, “Heavy bastard, isn’t he?”
Bruce flicked back the cover on his wrist watch, checked the time on the luminous dial.
“Spread out and search the rest of the caves. It’s possible he had more than one nest. Find anything, tag me immediately.”
He turned to Arabella, and flashed her a big grin.
“So, where would a man safely hole up in these mountains? He’d need shelter. The ability to get in and out fast. I’m thinking helicopter. And that means a pilot and maybe a couple of grunts with guns, too. Unless he’s using a military bird, he’d want room for Omar and the queen.”
Arabella shook her head.
“He wanted Charisse dead. And I’ll bet Omar would have been surplus to requirements once he’d delivered his prize. Too many people in the know means more people to pay to keep quiet. Chanteluelle’s a greedy bastard. I’m thinking it will be just him and the pilot. Unless of course he can fly a chopper.”
“Hey, Wall,” Bruce yelled to his brother who was bagging up Omar’s devices. “Speak to the spook. Find out if Chanteluelle has a pilot’s license.”
Wallace checked the time on his wrist watch, grinned.
“Oh, man. It’s the middle of the night in Vegas. He’ll be so pissed. It’ll be my pleasure.”
They all moved to leave with Sarif taking the lead.
Hanging back with Bruce, and keeping a wary eye on Sarif, Arabella muttered, “Ethan’s in Vegas?”
“On vacation with a very nubile brunette. She’s got huge…” With his hands he made the shape of large breasts.
Arabella rolled her eyes. “I thought he had a thing for Coco’s pal Louise?” she said, referring to Bruce Monroe’s sister.
“Nope. Seems that on-again-off-again relationship is off for good.” Now he frowned and slowed his pace. His eyes were serious when they found hers. “What’s going on with you and Sarif?”
Opening her mouth to tell him her private life was none of his business, Arabella changed her mind. Bruce Monroe had trained her. He knew her too well. And she’d never been a particularly good liar.
Now his sharp eyes studied her face carefully.
His eyes narrowed.
Before she could respond, he said, “That bad, eh?”
“I’m in deep shit.”
“Want help getting out of Dodge?”
“I was already on my way out of Dodge when I came across evidence of Omar in the tunnels. I turned back.”
“Just as well you did. Did I tell you it was a nice shot?”
Her shoulder nudged his. “You did.”
He nudged her back. “Seriously, if you want out we’ll get you out.”
Sarif had halted, waiting for them, she realised.
And those sharp dark eyes were watching her and Bruce like a raptor.
“Thanks,” she whispered. “I might take you up on that.”
Desert Orchid – Copyright
By CC MacKenzie
Copyright © C C MacKenzie 2014
Chapter Twenty Six tomorrow, and
