Chapter 25

Doctor Gazelle Smith was a very, very happy veterinarian indeed. She sat and watched as the huge old male baboon slowly came around from the anaesthetic and stumbled to his feet, swaying groggily.

They had driven back from the remote part of the island after his capture and quickly settled him into a roomy, secluded quarantine unit beside the administration block. It consisted of an enclosed sleeping area with a reinforced two-way mirror and infra-red lighting so the occupant could be observed without disturbing the animal. A sliding doorway led to a well-landscaped enclosure with plenty of cover and a secure feeding station. Also attached to the sleeping quarters was a small capture cage, useful for trapping the animal and either treating it for medical problems or transporting it to another part of the centre.

Zelle sat on the other side of the mirror, studying the baboon as he took a few drunken steps forward then collapse in an undignified heap on the floor of the sleeping area. She smiled at Brodie who was standing beside her, his face set with concern.

"Isn’t he just gorgeous?" she said, her eyes wide with wonder.

Brodie snorted.

"Yeah, well, ‘gorgeous’ ain’t exactly the word I’d use. That sonofabitch is about the ugliest thing I ever saw … and I should’ve blown his goddamn brains out," he added, the muscles along his jaw twitching with stress.

Zelle grinned at him and touched his arm in support.

"Yes, well, I’m glad you didn’t. I thought you showed remarkable restraint, Chief. You were very brave."

Brodie had to turn away so she didn’t see the twist of fear that overtook his mobile features.  Brave, my ass … I should have shot the bastard … but I couldn’t. I couldn’t pull the goddamn trigger … I froze …

He glanced back at the groggy primate and felt the sudden urge to throw up. Mumbling something about having to go check on Katy and Tara he left the room as quickly as he could without making it seem as though he was scared … which he knew in his heart was true. He was fuckin’ petrified …

As soon as he got out of the room he made his way to his office and shut and locked the door behind him and pulled down the blinds. That done, he leaned against the wall and took great, heaving lungfuls of air as he tried to control the overwhelming surge of panic washing through his powerful frame. He was hyperventilating he knew, but he didn’t care. When he had looked into those almost human eyes as the baboon charged towards him, everything suddenly crowded in on him … his helplessness in the face of the threat from Esposito … the discovery of the baboon … his love for Tara and little Katy and the fear of losing both of them …

He felt suddenly dizzy and stumbled to the sofa under the window, collapsing into its soft depths as spots swam before his eyes. Blackness began to encroach and nausea churned his stomach, and Brodie shivered uncontrollably as chills took him. I’m gonna pass out … can’t do that … get a grip, man … and with a visible effort he slowed his breathing, trying to calm the pounding of his heart. Leaning forward he let his head hang and he forced his body to relax, and slowly his head cleared and the queasiness abated a little.

Calmer now, he levered himself shakily off the sofa and poured himself a strong black coffee from the machine beside his desk. The bitter, rich flavour steadied him a little, and Brodie stood, both hands wrapped around the mug as though the heat could drive away the chill in his body. His heart was still doing flip-flops, but the longer he stood the better he felt. He was disturbed by the handle on the door being turned, and then a soft rap on the door as whoever it was realised the door was locked.

"Frank? Frank, are you in there?"

It was Tara. Brodie put his coffee on his desk, took a deep breath to steady himself and wandered over to the door, unlocking and opening it to a worried-looking Tara Matthews.

"Hey," she said, alarmed at his paleness under his tan, "are you okay? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost."

Brodie followed her over to his desk and dropped heavily into his chair. He ran his hand over his face and nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I am. Just a bit shaky is all. Havin’ that damn baboon here I guess." He gave her a thin, uneasy smile. He noticed she was alone. "Where’s the short-stop?"

Tara leaned over and brushed his cheek with her fingers, letting him know how much she loved him.

"Oh, Zelle said she could go over to the quarantine unit and see the baboon. Don’t worry she’s - " she began as she saw Brodie’s face blench.

"She did what??" he hissed.

Tara was startled at the vehemence in Brodie’s voice, and was even more alarmed as Brodie got to his feet, lifted his stick and headed for the door at a hopping run.

"Frank?? Frank!! She’s perfectly safe for God’s sake!!"

But Brodie was already gone, running as fast as he could down the corridor and through the entrance into the quarantine unit. Tara was only moments behind him, her concern for Brodie now bordering on anger. What the hell was wrong with the man?

She burst in through the door of the observation room in time for Brodie find an entranced Katy and Zelle standing gazing at the baboon through the window. Katy smiled up at Zelle in wonderment as the old primate sat down unsteadily beside a bowl of fruit and began to eat, obviously unconcerned at his new captive state.

"Katy!! Get away from there!" Brodie bellowed, his voice raw with anger and worry.

Katy jumped with shock. The blood drained from her face as she stumbled around to see Frank Brodie in the doorway, eyes ablaze with fear, but somewhere in her mind she remembered … Brodie wouldn’t hurt her. He was frightened for her, cared about her … and he loved her. That knowledge gave her courage. Straightening up, she tilted her chin defiantly.

"But Doctor Smith says it’s safe! He can’t see us or anything, and I wanted to - "

"I don’t care what the hell Doctor Smith said, Katy – get the hell away from that goddamn animal, y’hear me?" Brodie took a few steps towards her, scowling, but Katy stood her ground.

"Why?"

Zelle Smith stood up beside the girl, spitting mad.

"Yes, Chief! Why? You know as well as I do this unit is built to state-of-the-art containment standards! The ‘obs’ room can withstand the charge of a bull rhino! What the hell’s got into you?"

Brodie however would not be mollified, not now.

"Katy, do as you’re told!" But even as he spoke he saw the hurt in Katy’s dark eyes, and his heart lurched. In a softer tone he said "Katy gal …please. Wait for me outside, will ya? You an’ me have to have a talk, okay? I’ll be out in a minute after I’ve had a talk to the doctor here." He felt a presence at his side and saw Tara glaring at him out of the corner of his eye, but he did not rise to the bait – he had a situation to take care of here, and he had every intention of doing so without any interference.

"Tara, I’ll be out in a moment – take care of Katy for a little while."

Tara, still fuming but realising that there was a whole lot more to Brodie’s outburst than met the eye, took Katy’s hand and led her out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Brodie turned to Zelle Smith.

"Don’t you ever … ever … let her near that thing without me bein’ with her. All right?"

The muscles were jumping along Zelle’s jawline and Brodie knew she was very close to letting her formidable temper loose on him but he couldn’t give a damn.

"Whatever you wish … Chief." She replied. The words came out in a soft, steely hiss, but Zelle bit back the earthy epithets she was dying to hurl at this big, irate man standing in front of her. "But you know as well as I do, Chief, that we can’t keep her wrapped in cotton wool – especially in a place like this. Do you honestly think I would endanger a child’s life?" Her expressive eyebrows hitched. When Brodie didn’t reply, she pressed her point home. "I know you’re worried about her, but you have to let her have some freedom, Brodie – don’t you realise the more you act like a protective silverback gorilla the more you’re going to alienate her? Jeez – give her a break! She’s a seven year old girl whose mother got herself murdered, she’s been passed from pillar to post then ends up on an island in the middle of nowhere with people she’s never met before! She’s pretty goddamn fragile, Brodie, and you aren’t helping – you’re frightening the unholy crap out of her, don’t you realise that??"

Brodie bristled at that one.

"When I need your advice on lookin’ out for my family then I’ll ask you!" he growled, shoulders hunched in anger. "In the meantime, Doctor Smith, who don’t you stick to wipin’ that baboon’s ass and making sure the ugly bastard don’t make munchies out of you. Okay? Does that compute?"

And before Zelle could answer, he turned on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him.

Zelle stood thoughtfully for a moment, the anger dissipating as quickly as it had arisen, and gazed at the door. Finally she shook her head slowly.

"Yes, Brodie – it computes all right. And you have no idea what you just said, do you?" She mused to herself. "You have a family and you don’t even realise it, you asshole."

And running long fingers through her hair she settled back down on her chair and sighed with pleasure as she watched the old baboon tuck into his bowl of fruit.

******************

Brodie limped along the corridor, still fuming, the brass leopard handle of his stick cool in his clenched fist. He was leaning heavily on the stick now, his leg awash with pain from his exertions. Passing through the open-plan offices and ignoring the raised eyebrows and bemused stares from his team, he headed outside, knowing Tara was probably sitting with Katy on one of the new benches along the walkway there. He couldn’t suppress a grunt of relief as he spotted them exactly where he expected, Katy sitting disconsolately beside Tara, legs swinging. Tara was tense, her back straight and her whole posture yelling ‘pissed off’ to Brodie.

He slowed for a moment, not only to ease the pain in his leg and back, but also to gather his wits about him. He knew he had startled Katy and hurt her feelings, but he also knew he had not frightened her with his tirade. The little girl was angry with him. Brodie let a small smile quirk his lips. It wasn’t so long ago that Katy would have been terrified of his outburst – now she was confident enough to be annoyed with him, and for that he was grateful. He had a lot of explaining to do, he thought ruefully.

And an apology, I suppose. But, dammit, I have to keep her safe ... He shook his head and sighed. Shit. Better bite the bullet ...

Tara watched him as he slowly limped towards them, allowing herself a moment or two to worry about how tired and sore he looked, but she also saw how unhappy Katy was with Brodie, and she hardened her heart ... but only a little. She knew Brodie’s reason for the angry rant, and she knew Katy had to realise that Brodie was only concerned for her. Her lips thinned for a second. But that was no excuse for throwing a hissy-fit in front of the child ...

As Brodie stopped in front of the bench and took in the stiff, uncompromising glares Tara and Katy were sending his way, he shifted in discomfort. What was it about the pair of them? How come he could take on a bar-room of drunks, beat the crap out of them and not give a goddamn, but one frown from Katy and he felt shame burn in his chest. Damn! It looked like he was going to have to have one of those ‘heart-to-heart’ talks he disliked so much. Taking a deep breath, he slumped down on the bench beside Katy, who glanced at him then returned to swinging her feet, her heels banging gently on the underside of the seat. Brodie steadfastly ignored the obvious challenge in her attitude.

They all sat in silence for a while. Tara stared into the distance, apparently engrossed in the antics of Daisy and Ermintrude, as the two black rhinos lumbered playfully around their enclosure. Brodie turned the handle of his stick around and around, trying to catch the light in the garnet eyes of the leopard handle, his face set and grim. Katy just looked sullen.

Brodie finally decided he couldn’t take the silence any longer.

"Katy - "

The child rounded on him in an instant.

"You shouted at Doctor Smith! She was just being nice and letting me see the baboon but you shouted at her!" She stood up, her small body tense with fury.

Brodie blinked in amazement.

"Now just hold on there, short-stop - " he began, but Katy wasn’t finished.

"You shouted at her, you … you …" She struggled to find the right word. Then her brown eyes sparked in triumph. "You bully!!"

"Bully???" Brodie’s eyebrows hitched at the vehemence in her voice.

"Yeah!! Bully!!" Katy’s chin tilted in defiance and Brodie once more marveled at how much she resembled Tara. "You let me closer than that to the lions, and they’re waaaaaaaaaay more dangerous, and the rhinos and the cheetahs - "

"But - "

"And Doctor Smith said the baboon’s real old and couldn’t hurt anyone, and besides, he was still all dopey an’ stuff and didn’t even know we were there - "

"Katy gal - " Brodie tried again, but Katy wasn’t in the mood for conciliation.

"You were just real nasty, y’know??" Katy leaned in towards Brodie and looked him straight in the eye. "You’re … a … bully!"

The finality of those last words took the last of the anger right out of the big ex-marine. He sat on the bench, the stick held uselessly in numb fingers, and looked at Tara.

"You want to add anythin’ to that?" he rumbled, blue eyes full of amazement and not a little admiration for the fiery-tempered girl.

Tara shook her head, trying hard to control the smile threatening to break out on her lips.

"Oh no," she said, her voice quavering with humour. "I think Katy’s pretty much got it covered, don’t you?"

Brodie looked from Tara to Katy and back again. He knew then that he was in deep shit. The breath gusted out of him, surprising himself as he discovered how guilty he felt, but he knew he still had some explaining to do.

"Katy …"

Katy Matthews looked up at Brodie’s tired, gaunt face and felt her anger lessen a little. Brodie was just about her favouritest person in the world – Tara didn’t count as she was family and was automatically adored – and she hated seeing him looking at her with those beautiful blue eyes all hurt and unhappy. And Katy knew he was desperately unhappy. Not with her, she knew that now. Brodie loved her and cared about her, and would protect her with his life. Her fingers strayed to the old dog tag around her neck. He was angry with Doctor Smith because he thought she, Katy Matthews, was in danger. Katy let her gaze drop a little. It was too hard to be angry with Brodie.

"What?" She said, still a little defiant.

Brodie reached out and took one of her tiny hands in his. He felt her fingers clench a little, her heart still not quite ready to forgive him, but he held on gently, the feather-soft velvet of her skin reminding him once more of how fragile she was. He drew her towards him and Katy allowed herself to be pulled towards him, but not without dragging her feet a little, just to remind him that she still hadn’t completely let him off the hook.

"Katy …" Brodie glanced at Tara. She had relaxed slightly, curious now and willing to see how Brodie would handle this situation he had put them in. He took her silence as permission to try and get himself out of this mess. Tilting Katy’s chin upwards with a long finger, he gazed into her eyes, seeing the lingering hurt there. "Katy gal, remember when you asked me about all those scars I got and about my game leg?"

Katy frowned, puzzled.

"Y … yeah. I remember."

"Well … I got hurt by one of those baboons. There used to be a lot of them here … big baboons, baboons that didn’t like people a whole lot. I came here to try and help some people … Mr Cunningham’s daughter … and I got pretty bust up. I nearly died, Katy. If it hadn’t been for Tara …" he swallowed, his chest tightening at the memory. "She saved my life, Katy. Stopped me bleedin’ to death and then she hauled my sorry butt into a safe place and kept me goin’ until help arrived. Those damn’ baboons just about killed both of us. So … if I’m kinda snitty about these things then … well, you’re just gonna have to take my word for it. I’m sorry I shouted, but I thought the Doc was out of line. Maybe she was, and maybe she wasn’t … but believe me when I say that sonofa … that … that … thing is dangerous, okay? Humour me, kiddo. Please."

Katy looked at Brodie’s face. His brow was furrowed and his jaw was set. He meant what he was saying, and had sort of apologised, so, she thought, perhaps she should forgive him.

"Okay. But you don’t have to go all antsy, y’know. Yelling and stuff." Her bottom lip protruded a little in a tiny pout, just to make sure Brodie knew she was serious.

He took the point.

"No yelling." He placed his hand over his chest and tried to look earnest. "I promise. Are we friends now?"

Katy thought about it for a moment, then nodded.

"I suppose so." She gave him a tiny smile. "And I’m sorry you got hurt." She brightened for a second. "Did Aunt Tara really save your life?"

Brodie nodded, his face serious.

"Yep. And she fought off the baboons, too."

Katy was entranced.

"Wow!! Did you??" She gazed at Tara with renewed admiration. Anyone who saved Frank Brodie’s life and killed some crazy baboons into the bargain was tough.

Tara chuckled. Trust Brodie to turn the attention from him onto something – or in this case someone – else.

"Enough, already! Okay – are you two friends again, because I think it’s time we went home for some supper. I’m hungry!"

"YAY! Chili! Can we have chili??" Katy clutched Brodie’s hand, her anger now completely forgotten. She tugged the big man to his feet and waited until he sorted out his stick. Then she led the way down the path to the jeep, where Moron sat in the rear seat waiting for his humans. As far as Katy Matthews was concerned, all was now right with the world.

Brodie watched as the little girl fussed the huge dog and Tara eased herself into the driver’s seat. Settled, she tuned to Brodie.

"Are you coming, or are we going to have to start supper without you?" She smiled at him.

Brodie nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, I’m coming."

And taking a deep breath, he limped down the pathway to the jeep in the hazy evening light.

*******************

Supper turned out to be a quiet affair.

Brodie was too tired to have much appetite, and he picked at his food as Katy babbled happily on about baboons and Zelle Smith, all the while piling more food onto her plate. Tara couldn’t figure out where the child put it all.

After supper Katy finished her assignment for Irwin Trubshaw, and tired after the day’s events, went to bed and listened to music on her CD player. Brodie retired to his office for an hour as Tara chilled out in front of the TV, watching some unmentionable soap. As he tried to concentrate and work his way through the mounds of paperwork in his intray, he took two ‘phone calls.

The first was from Charles Cunningham, telling him his contacts in the less ‘respectable’ side of business could find out little about Esposito – which in itself was rare. Cunningham’s aide, Tony Cologna, had been exhaustively pursuing several leads, but had come up empty-handed. And, as Cunningham was at pains to point out, Cologna was extremely good at ferreting out answers.

The second was from Rick Mahoney in Washington. Rick said the Mexican authorities were doing what they could, but without a specific threat being made with evidence to back it up, they were powerless to do anything. But nevertheless, Rick had called in a few favours and many of the small, private airports and helipads in the Cancun area were being watched. Although, Rick said, Esposito could be anywhere.

The two phone calls only served to depress Brodie even more. Finishing up his paperwork, he wandered back through to the bedroom and was met by Tara, who was readying herself for bed.

She looked up at him as he gathered her into his arms and held her close.

"Frank?"

But he did not answer. As he stood quietly with her in his arms he breathed in her soft, warm scent, the smell of her hair and the faint hint of her toothpaste. His hands held her slender frame to him, and as he felt her arms slide around his ribcage and her head rest on his shoulder, he kissed the tender place below her ear. She was balm to him … and he wanted her.

His hands became more insistent. He pulled up her shirt and Tara stood away from him a little, aroused now, her eyes luminous in the light of the small bedside lamp.

The next few minutes saw hands hurriedly remove clothing, kisses showered on naked skin and soft moans echoing in the silence. Brodie took Tara with him down onto the bed, his big body hard and urgent, his mouth and hands touching and teasing.

Tara’s head threw back as Brodie nuzzled the hollow between her breasts and then took the peak of one of her breasts in his mouth, suckling, his tongue flicking the engorged nipple. Her fingers pressed into the powerful muscles of his shoulders, and she whimpered with need as one of his hands cupped the soft curls at the apex of her thighs. Parting for him, she groaned as she felt him settle immediately over her, his big frame pressing her into the mattress and his erection flat against her belly. His hips flexed and she felt rather than heard the deep rumble of desire in his chest, the sensitive glans of his manhood rubbing against the soft skin of her belly. She could feel the wetness of his arousal already, the beads of semen slick against her. He was very ready.

"Frank …"

"Huh …" His mouth was sending delicious shivers down her spine as Brodie nipped at her collarbone.

"Slow down, babe … oh … right there … not so fast …" Tara clutched at his arm, arching with pleasure under him.

"Can’t … need you … want you … have to … uhnh … have to have you … now …"

And he thrust inside her.

Tara’s eyes widened. He was filling her, pinning her beneath him, his movements urgent and driving. There was no slow, sensual movement now … it was all need and lust and desperation, and Brodie felt Tara’s legs widen to allow him deeper still, her face rapt with the pleasure of his loving. He groaned, feeling himself thicken even more, and his thrusts quickened.

Tara was very near the brink. Brodie’s body was driving her inexorably onward, his desperate need for her arousing her more than she would have ever guessed. Perspiration slicked their bodies as they moved, Brodie holding his woman tight and thrusting, thrusting … the sensation sending them gasping against one another.

But suddenly Brodie withdrew. He slid from her, a shuddering groan escaping him as he lifted his body away.

"No! Frank, please, I’m so close … please, come back inside me - "

But he didn’t answer as he rocked up onto his knees and turned her over. Tara cried out with pleasure as Brodie caught her hips and lifted her onto her knees. He mounted and slid inside her before she managed to balance herself, and Tara braced her arms against the bead as his thrusts became pounding, his hands tight at her hips, holding her close to his flanks.

Tara was enraptured. She rocked back into him and was delighted to hear his moan of pleasure, and she clenched her inner muscles around the length of him. Brodie gave a soft, broken sob … and was convulsed with ecstasy as his orgasm sent him spiralling into a shattering haze of pure joy.

"Don’t … don’t stop …"

Tara’s soft plea came to him as though from a million miles away and his last shuddering thrusts sent her over the edge, her body shaking with pleasure and her muscled sheath fluttering around his pulsing shaft as he filled her.

They stilled, both shaken by their love, until Brodie withdrew and Tara felt the trickle of his seed down her thighs. He collapsed on the bed and Tara sank down beside him, her body tight against his, each of them hot and spent.

She lay quietly beside him for long minutes and then she raised her head, studying the lines of his face and the tiredness she saw there.

"Frank?"

He didn’t reply. She tried again, concerned now.

"Frank? Are you okay?"

His face was turned from hers, and his long, brawny body, instead of being relaxed and sated, was tense. In a sudden movement he slipped from her embrace and began to dress.

"Frank?? What’s wrong?"

Tara sat up, alarmed now, but Brodie continued dressing, his back hunched as though expecting a blow. Slipping on his shirt he finally allowed himself to look at her for just a split second, and then his gaze slid away from her as though ashamed.

"I’m sorry, Tara. Sorry for everything." Fastening his boots he limped to the door, and Tara could see he was hurting.

"Frank, honey, what’s to be sorry for?" Confused, Tara began to pull her teeshirt on, but Brodie waved a hand at her.

"Don’t worry. Just goin’ for a walk. Need to do some thinkin’ ... I’ll be back soon."

And with that he was gone, and moments later Tara heard Moron heave himself off the sofa and follow the big man. The front door shut, and she heard Brodie’s boots tread quietly around the house and through the gate and onto the path that led to the beach below.

Resting back on the pillows, Tara Matthews was mightily confused. She had to admit she was scared. The threat of Esposito, however tenuous, was real, and she knew Brodie was worried deeply about being able to protect herself and Katy. But still, the advent of the old baboon seemed to have done something to him ... rattled him so badly that he seemed to be at a loss. She had never seen Brodie like this. Angry and hurt, yes ... but not terrified. And he was terrified, she realised with a lurch.

She sighed. Katy slumbered in her room, unaware of Brodie’s pain and distress, and Tara knew they had to keep it that way. But she didn’t know how long Brodie could stand the tension, and she feared for him.

Unable to do anything now but await Brodie’s return, she lifted a book from her bedside table and tried to read. But as she read the words went unbidden, and her mind returned always to the memory of the look of hopelessness on Brodie’s face as he left the room.

****************

Sonny Esposito was a happy, happy man.

Sitting in his penthouse lounge, he poured another scotch and smiled to himself. His organization was tightly run. Nobody paid better than Sonny ... and nobody made deadlier threats. The loyalty of his men was unquestioned.

The plan to regain his daughter and the item he sought was going like clockwork, and his presence in Santa Teresa was unnoticed, thanks to some cash placed in the right bank accounts and the thoroughness of his people. Yes, he thought, soon. Very, very soon ...

His reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door, and one of his men entered. Handing him an envelope the man stood awaiting instructions.

"The information you were waiting for, boss, from our source."

Esposito grinned and taking the envelope opened it and perused the contents. Everything was there. Plans, schedules, rotas ... everything. Even the codes to the security system on San Miguel Island.

"Perfect! Just perfect!" Esposito looked up at his employee. "Authorise the payment, Cristobal. Five million dollars into his Swiss account. He’s earned it."

Cristobal nodded and turned to go, but Esposito held up a hand, and the man stopped.

"Cristobal, where is Mister Stubbs at this moment?"

Cristobal pondered the question.

"I think he’s visiting his parents in London, sir. Yes, I think that’s where he is, but he’ll be back in a few days."

Esposito poured more scotch into the cut-crystal glass and smiled.

"Good. When he gets to New York please ask him to come here immediately. I think this job requires his particular talents, don’t you think? Oh, and please pass on my thanks to our source, will you?"

Cristobal nodded, smiling.

"Yes sir. Anything else?"

Esposito waved the man away, and Cristobal left the room to do as he was bidden.

Sonny Esposito relaxed back in his chair and swirled the amber fluid in the glass, watching the glitter and sparkle of the fine-quality malt with pleasure. Yes ... everything was going very smoothly indeed. He raised his head in a toast.

"To you, my Katy. You’ll be home with your Daddy very soon, I promise, baby. And there is no-one ... no-one ... who will get in the way."

He took a celebratory sip of the malt, and began to make plans.