The Encounter
By
Steph
Chapter Fifteen
*
Jase Bailey was up at dawn as well as was his partner Erica Randall.
Erica had been looking through mug shots for at least an hour and no luck.
She was not going to give up. The bastard that had knocked her out, had to be
a criminal and he surely had to be here amongst the other trash.
Jase found his thoughts being led astray with Mary. It was increasingly
difficult to concentrate with that lovely woman on his mind.
"It's him !" Erica cried out ! Indeed, Fouchon's picture was before her.
But the name read , Clive Follet.
He had been arrested before, about ten years ago...for attempted murder but
got off on a technically.
Erica was quite pleased with herself. "Let's go !" She cried out as she printed
his wrap sheet off the computer with all last known addressess.
Jase grapped his jacket and was right behind her. If he could return Isabelle safetly home,
he would not feel so bloody bad !
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Isabelle was tired and hungry. There was no sign of them as she kept her steady pace.
The only thoughts on her mind were to be home and soaking in a hot bath.
Strangely, she was not afraid anymore. Perhaps the fact that Van Cleaf
was nearby had replaced her fear with hope.
He would not harm her, that she was sure of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Preston eyed a movement and raised his elaborate weapon with infared vision.
The red beam scanned the dense brush and there she was. He smiled for the others
were a little behind him and they would not interfere.
He pulled the trigger and a shot fired. Pik froze in his tracks as the shot rang out.
An image flashed before him of Isabelle laying face down with a bullet hole in her back
and blood everywhere and he panicked.
Pik stepped up his pace and moved in behind Preston. "I saw her." Preston laughed.
Isabelle was frozen in place, her back pressed against the huge tree.
A bullet has whizzed past her head and she swear she saw her life pass before her very eyes.
They were right behind her now. Good god was she going to die out here ?
Isabelle collected her thoughts and tried to calm down.
"Did you hit her ?" Fouchon asked. Preston reloaded his weapon, "No, But it was close."
Pik found himself breathing a sigh of relief.
This could go on no longer. Isabelle took this opportunity to turn and fire once.
She had stood and aimed for a good minute before pulling the trigger.
The bullet grazed Preston's shoulder knocking the weapon from his hands.
"What the hell !"
He cried out.
Fouchon eyed Pik. "Interesting turn of events, eh ?" Pik asked and he grinned and moved off
into the woods. Fouchon was outraged.
"It's only a flesh wound ! " Preston examined the bleeding flesh and retrieved his weapon.
"This is much more than I anticiapted." Preston was enjoying himself and Pik was growing ever
protective.
Isabelle went to her knees and began to crawl within the bush.
There was no way out and she could not stand there behind that tree forever.
Preston began to run and Fouchon stood off in the distance.
Pik had disappeared and things were getting out of hand.
Isabelle felt a chill roll down her spine as a presence made itself known.
Isbelle glanced up into Van Cleaf's eyes and relief flashed across her features.
He began to raise his gun. She could only watch.
"Ah, I see you have her now ! " Preston called out as he stepped into the small clearing.
"Back off Van Cleaf, she's mine." Preston circled her and aimed his weapon.
"I think not !" Pik fired one shot and it was acurate.
The bullet went clean through Preston's eye socket and the big man fell backwards.
Isabelle sat there on the ground and allowed the pistol to fall from her grip.
"Do you still hate me ?" He asked as he reloaded his weapon.
Isabelle smiled slightly, "Not even for a second."
Fouchon stood nearby and watched in fascination. Pik had betrayed him yet again.
"Van Cleaf !" Fouchon shouted.
They both stood facing each other, weapons pointed at each other, neither one
willing to give an inch.
"I am disapponted." Fouchon announced. Van Cleaf's hand was steady as century
old oak, was he capable of killing the very man that created him ?
"Let it go." Pik commanded. Fouchon pressed the trigger slightly.
Van Cleaf was truly one of a kind. Fouchon fired once and the bullet
struck Pik in the shoulder and Pik was thrown to the ground..
Isabelle was mortified and she picked up her weapon and fired at Fouchon.
He stood amazed at the blood seeping through his crisp white shirt under his coat.
He eyed her and fell to his knees, then to the ground.
Isabelle flung herself to Pik's side and ran her hands over his face.
"Van Cleaf !" She whispered into his ear. "You can't die !"
Isabelle was in shock. "I love you !"
Pik opended his eyes slightly, "And I love you." A wave of relief washed over
her for he was not dead.
The sounds of approaching footsteps caught her off guard.
"Isabelle Grant." A voice called out. She recoginzed it as Detective Jase Bailey.
Dread crossed her features.
"Go, I will come for you." He whispered into her neck as he
traced his fingers along her cheek.
Isabelle could not leave. "Go." He commanded. She pressed her
lips to his for a moment before she stood and made her way to where the voices were coming from.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Miss. Grant is that you !" Jase called out as he came closer.
"Thank god your alright!" Jase was overwhelmed with relief, Mary would thank him heartily.
"Yes. I am fine." Other officers entered the clearing and found only Preston's body.
"Where are the other's ?" Jase asked her. Isabelle could not answer for Fouchon and
Van Cleaf were both gone.
"There were no others." Isabelle replied. "Please, I'd like to go home now ."
Jase nodded and led her out of the swamp.
He seriously doubted that he would ever know what happened.