Blood Is Thicker...
By
Christine
Part Three
Chapter 20
Ten minutes later and in sight of the Jeep, Pik paused, looking around in a state of alert, teeth showing through his clenched jaws.
"What…?" Madeleine started to say, but he silenced her sternly, his hand over her mouth, then readued the revolver.
Then she heard it as well, distant whining sounds ahead of them, sounds that were growing closer.
"Let's move!" he said and pulled her by the hand as they sprinted toward the vehicle.
Their flight was useless, the headlights from the motorcycles exposing them quickly, and they were surrounded. Pik stopped and smiled calmly. They faced several armed men, his men: Frick, Frack, Peterson, Jerome, Billy Bob, some more.
Raising his weapon in warning, Pik said coolly, "I thought I gave you all the night off."
One of them dared to answer. It was Frack. "Drop the gun, Van Cleaf," was all he said, but Pik could detect the lack of confidence in his order.
"Oh, I don't think so."
Pik's cool tone unnerved all the men, and they glanced around at each other uncomfortably. Madeleine was unnerved as well by Pik's demeanor, but she remained by his side in silence. He obviously knew these men, and knew what he was doing.
"Listen," Frack said with a shaky voice, "I got no choice. Fouchon wants to see both of you. So drop it and we'll wait for him to get here, real nice."
So, Fouchon had sicced Pik's own dogs on him. They all had their semi-automatic weapons pointed in his direction. If he had been alone, he would have begun shooting his way out, with a good chance of succeeding. He knew his lads well. But with Madeleine with him, he couldn't risk her getting caught in the crossfire.
"He wants you alive, Van Cleaf, but he didn't say I couldn't fuck you up first."
"I suggest you watch your language in front of my wife." Cold as ice.
Wife? Frack was not happy to be here. The girl was half dressed, but seemed perfectly willing to be with Van Cleaf. Whatever was going on, he wanted no part of it. He had been with Pik since the beginning, even before they had met Fouchon.
Just then Fouchon arrived, pulling up behind them in the Jag from the direction of the house. He was led by several more trackers on bikes. "Keep 'em on him, boys," he said as he walked up to the couple in the center of the circle. He stopped in front of Pik and pointed his weapon directly at his head, the barrel about two feet away.
"Did you think you wouldn't get caught, screwing my daughter all this time, right under my nose? Did you get a rise out of that?!" He addressed both of them, "Did you enjoy making a fool out of me?!" Fury edged his tone. The men shifted nervously, uneased by the danger these two men at odds presented to everything around them.
Pik answered the charge, "You're making a mistake. It wasn't like that at all." His tone was deadly.
But Fouchon was beyond listening, "Shut, you son of a bitch! You had no right to touch her!" Eyes still on Pik, he held his hand out, "Let's go, Madeleine. This is finished."
She grasped Pik's arm firmly and drew confidence from his calm. "Papa, listen to me. It doesn't have to be this way. I can have both of you in my life."
"This discussion is over. Now let's go." He continued to hold his hand out to her.
"Please, Papa. I love him, and he loves me. We got married last week."
"Married?!" Fouchon said, incredulous, furious. Then with evil in his tone, "Love him? Do you have any idea who it is you say you love?!"
Pik squared his jaw, preparing to have Madeleine hear the truth about him and wondering what her reaction would be. Some of the boys began whispering to each other.
Fouchon continued, "Your husband," he said the word with loathing, "is a murderer, an assassin, a hired killer. People hire him to help them hunt homeless men for sport. It's what he does for a living, and he enjoys it!!"
Madeleine felt as if she'd been stabbed in the chest, but she looked over at Pik's face, and her devotion to him swelled in her heart. She answered her father in turn, "Is that so? It was my impression that the two of you were in business together."
Relieved she appeared to remain loyal to him, Pik smiled briefly at her, his eyes still dangerous, then focused back on Fouchon.
"Well, then," Fouchon said, "since you think you know so much, it's time I introduced you to the family business." He stepped out of the center and directed his instructions to the men. "Boys!" he shouted, "We're going to have a little target practice!" He looked around, smiling maniacally.
But Fouchon's rage was working for Pik, not against him. In his state of fury, Fouchon was unable to comprehend the situation. The dogs were Pik's men, to start with. He had trained them. They respected him, and were having a difficult time considering turning on him. Some were also terrified of him. It would come down to whoever they were more afraid of: Pik or Fouchon. Pik could see the lines being drawn even if Fouchon couldn't. He stared meaningfully at Frack, who nodded very slightly and stood between him and Fouchon. Frick joined him, and several more. The rest made a ragged formation between Fouchon and Frack's group.
Madeleine kept her ground beside Pik. She addressed the crowd, "This is a family issue, there is no reason for any of you to be involved." Pik admired her confidence at speaking to the fearsome-looking crowd of men. "My father does not approve of my husband." Her voice cracked slightly with emotion. "But we want to be together. So, please, don't interfere."
Fouchon's snarling face was so contorted in rage she could barely recognize him.
She approached Frack and whispered, "He's my father. Please, don't kill him."
"I'll do what I can, lady," he said back to her over his shoulder, and Pik pulled her back beside him. Then he said to Pik, "You and the lady get on outta here, Mr. Van Cleaf. It's been great workin' for you."
"I hope we meet again," Pik said sincerely.
"Yah, me too."
Then Frack shouted, "There ain't gonna be any target practice tonight, Mr. Fouchon!"
Fouchon appeared to roar, and everyone took that as their cue.
"You drive!" Pik ordered and they darted for the Jeep as the rounds began to fly.
The keys were in the ignition and she started it up. The back window was shattered by rifle fire almost immediately, and Pik climbed into the back and began firing out the open pane, glass crunching beneath him.
"Faster, faster, get the Hell out of here!" he shouted to her. She was terrified to drive so quickly on such a dark and wooded road, but she floored the gas pedal, praying silently that she wouldn't crash.
Pik could barely make out the motorcycles in pursuit behind them, and had difficulty distinguishing who was for them or against them. Pik smiled, realizing that they were actually blocking Fouchon's path to them. That is, if he was still alive. Some of the bikes were getting closer, and one pulled along the driver's side and fired toward the front of the Jeep.
Madeleine screamed for Pik as glass flew inward, landing of the sleeves of the coat, but slicing her uncovered legs. The bullet had traveled through the windshield, leaving a hole and a spider web of cracked glass on the passenger side. Pik immediately pulled himself out the back window and fired over the top of the Jeep, hitting his target squarely in the chest. The man's bike tumbled over, and Pik could see that at least three other bikes and riders piled up into it. The pile-up slowed the pursuit and gave the Jeep a chance to put some more distance between it and Fouchon.
"Keep going Maddie! You're doing great!" he shouted to her. "When we get to the highway, stop and I'll drive!"
"Okay!" She eagerly awaited the appearance of the highway, teeth clenched and knuckles white.
| |
|
|
|
|