I sigh. “It’s going to be a long night just waiting.” I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to sleep.
Finn’s brow creases. “Mystic will stay at the airfield waiting for the plane to come back. Apart from Grinch, Goofy and the prospects, we’ve got the place to ourselves. Why don’t I show you around? You still haven’t seen the clubroom yet.”
It’s better than staying here in this room. Time is going to hang heavy on our hands. Could it really be that by dawn I’ll no longer have a threat hanging over my head? It won’t wipe out the recent past, but it may help me to move on. If I still want to, there’d be nothing stopping me going home.
For an answer I collect his crutches from where they’ve fallen and pass them to him, then stand back and let him get himself sorted. Wondering what I’m heading into, I follow him out.
The clubroom is situated on the floor beneath where the accommodation is housed. It’s a big space, a bar down one side, a pool table, games machines, and a dartboard. There are sofas, tables and chairs. Like the cafeteria downstairs it’s spotless. When I comment on its cleanliness, Finn grimaces, and reminds me, keeping it so will fall to him now.
“Want a drink?”
I shake my head, no. I want to keep a clear head. I’ve had enough of being sedated and drugged.
“You play pool?”
I did, when I was a trainee nurse. My first inclination is to refuse to play, but what can I do instead except brood? “A bit.” I doubt if I’m in his league.
I’m right. Three games later I’m losing to a man balancing on one leg and playing with not even his dominant hand, needing to use his cast to steady the cue stick. Finn tries to help me line up shots, but as he abstains from physically touching me, I find his instructions hard to follow. I can’t keep my eyes from watching the clock, but the minutes seem to tick by so slow.
Finn’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Taking it out, he rolls his eyes. He taps something back. And gets a reply.
“Brute needs me in reception.” He’s frowning.
“What for?”
“Probably wants me to take over from him and man the front desk. I’m one of the prospects now, guess he’s going to play on it.”
“Prospect duty?”
Finn shrugs. “I knew this was coming.”
“Can he order you around? He’s a prospect himself, isn’t he?”
“He can’t. But all prospects help each other out. Maybe he just needs a piss. Whatever, I’ve got to go down. Do you want to—”
“I’ll come.” I don’t want to stay here by myself. A prospect’s manning the bar, but I don’t know him. Even if I did, I doubt right now I could trust anyone.
In no hurry, Finn gets his crutches under him again and does that swing hop thing over to the elevator.
“I wish I could turn back time.” I muse aloud. “I wish we could start over, Finn. But once Gun’s not a threat, I am going home. Alone.”
“Cat…”
“I don’t belong in your world.”
“You want me to leave the club?” He moves so he can face me. “If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.”
The elevator, which seems slow, at last arrives, and the doors slide open. He gestures for me to enter first.
As he presses the button to take us down, I know I can’t give him false hope. “I need to find myself again, Finn. I’m sorry, but as soon as I can, I’m going to go.”
“You’re being hasty,” he tells me, as the doors meet once again. “You need time. I’ll give you some space, Cat, but I’m never going to give up.”
The downward journey ends. Stepping out of the elevator, I round on him. “I need control,” I wail. “I need to take back my life. I need to do this on my own and on my terms. I want to go home. Alone.”
Pain fills his eyes, but this isn’t about him now. It’s about me, and what I want. He starts to move toward the front of the building, and I follow. He stops so fast, I crash into his back.
“What the fuck?” he exclaims.
Peering around him I can see why he’s stopped. Brute’s on his feet, a gun pointed toward one of the older bikers, one of those Finn was sitting with during our meal. He looks rough around the edges and more like you’d expect as a member of a motorcycle club. But, over his cut he’s wearing some kind of device covered in wires. Even a civilian like me can guess what it is.
“Goofy?” Finn asks, and rather than moving back, steps closer at the same time pushing me behind him. “Brute! Put the fuckin’ gun down.”
“They’ve got the place surrounded,” Goofy replies, his voice sounding pissed rather than scared as he glances disdainfully down at the bomb strapped to his chest. “They’ve got Grinch and Gears. Fuckin’ jumped us where we went out for a smoke.”
Finn waves toward the device and says very calmly. “What are they waiting for?”
“For Pip to give himself up. They said, if he does, they’ll let the rest of us go.”
Finn hops back, motioning Goofy to step forward. I realise he’s moving him out of sight of the front window. He turns to Brute. “Get me the toolkit from under the desk, then go warn Pip. But tell him to stay put.” He starts talking again, this time it seems like it’s to himself. “It’s Gun, isn’t it? He wants Pip alive. Which means we’ve got time before this blows. Else he risks him going up with everyone else.”
Brute snaps to obey Finn while I wonder at the dynamic. He doesn’t object being given an instruction from another prospect, but there’s something about Finn’s voice, a new confidence. He sounds like a man completely in control. Me? I’m terrified. I haven’t come through what I have only to die now. As Brute gets the toolkit I notice looped around his wrist is a lead, and connected to that, a handsome black spaniel. My eyes widen, then shutter. Don’t let his dog die.
“I’m sorry,” Goofy says. “We didn’t have a fuckin’ chance. It was Gun, I recognised him from the photos. Honor was showing around. Before we knew they were there, they surrounded us.” He sounds so calm, standing stock still while I’m shaking.
“SEALs have a habit of doing that,” Finn observes calmly, walking around Goofy now, his eyes moving, missing nothing. “I thought San Diego might be a trap, though I didn’t expect it to be a decoy. Nothing you could have done, Brother. Don’t blame yourself.”
“Is that a bomb?” I ask, shakily, while knowing it can’t be anything else.
“Yeah,” Finn says, distracted by his inspection. “Booby trapped, I expect.”
“He told me I couldn’t take it off.”
“I’ll just have to disarm it.” Finn states, confidently, moving to the toolkit which Brute had placed close.
“He said no one could. Any tampering and it will blow.” Now I notice a slight tremor in Goofy’s voice, he’s clearly trying to keep a brave face. “You should go, Stormy. Get the girl out of here and the others.”
“Nowhere we can go if he’s got the place surrounded, Goof. You know that. And Pip’s not giving himself up. The saferoom won’t hold everyone.”