Incursion: The Rift - Part Fourteen

Jeffrey must have been distracted by the dinner conversation. Tim was sure he would have been more cautious on entering the motel room otherwise. For himself Tim could only make the excuse that he had no experience with this sort of thing, strangers trying to kill them. He would simply never have anticipated someone lurking in a darkened room, waiting to attack. It would be like expecting a surprise birthday party in October when your birthday was in April.

Tim could also only make the excuse that surprise and shock kept him from turning and running when he saw his brother knocked to the ground and a woman step over him, come forward, and shove a gun to his own forehead.

"Inside," the woman ordered. "Now."

Tim didn't move, not because he was trying to resist, but because the shock had so overloaded his mental capacity he honestly didn't understand what she meant. Inside what? She made her meaning clear, grabbing his shirt collar with her free hand and dragging him toward the motel room door.

"I said, inside. Move it."

Tim stumbled forward as someone, a man, grabbed Jeffrey's hands and dragged him into the room. A smear of blood remained on the concrete where Jeffrey's head had been.

"Close the door," the man ordered and the woman moved to obey, closing the door behind Tim but keeping her gun pointed at his head.

As soon as the door was closed the man said, "Lights," and the woman hit the switch, illuminating the drab beige interior of the room with the harsh glare of a naked overhead bulb.

Tim almost didn't recognize the man, having seen his face only for an instant, and that more than twelve hours ago at Prospect Hill Park as he gunned down the men from the black Lincoln Navigator.

William Trask.

And the woman, about Tim's height, with short cropped blond hair and features like that of an old boxer who's taken too many hits, was the woman who had shot out the back window of Jeffrey's car.

As the fog of shock started to clear, two questions pushed to the forefront. How had they found them so quickly? Why hadn't they killed them already?

Trask prodded Jeffrey with his foot. "Still with us?" he addressed him.

Jeffrey groaned and tried to push himself up, but Trask put his foot on the back of his head pinning him hard to the floor.

"Leave him alone!" Tim stepped forward, trembling, his hands balled into fists.

Trask raised his gun and pointed it at Tim's face. He smiled. "What are you going to do? Do you want to protect your little brother?"

The woman grabbed Tim's shirt collar again and pulled him back. He could feel the muzzle of her gun against his temple, but he didn't take his eyes off Trask.

Trask stared at Tim a moment longer, then laughed. To Jeffrey he said, "It's good to see you again pal." He leaned forward, putting his full weight on Jeffrey's head, forcing a muffled scream from him. The gun against Tim's temple pressed harder, but he was almost about to move anyway -- to fight even though it was futile -- when Trask backed off and stepped away.

"I was genuinely pleased when I found out you were involved with this," Trask said.

"Involved..." Jeffrey gasped. "Involved with what?"

"Oh, come now. You expect me to believe you've played along with this and you don't know what's going on?"

"Humor me," Jeffrey groaned and tried to push himself up again. Tim could see his face now. It was covered in blood that still seeped from a gash on the side of his head, just at the hairline. He managed to get his upper body off the floor but a motion of Trask's gun kept him from going any further.

"Just give me a reason, pal" Trask said.

The blond with the uneven face was growing restless. "We should leave," she said. It was too much to hope she meant they were going to depart and leave the two brothers alone. That became obvious with her next words. "We can continue the interrogation at the shop."

Trask ignored her. "It took me a while to get over what you did," he said, still addressing Jeffrey. "I had a lot of anger. I almost considered therapy."

Jeffrey looked up at him, about to reply with his typical sarcasm -- Tim could tell by his expression even through the blood -- but he apparently thought better of it. He lowered his head. "It wasn't personal."

"No," Trask agreed. "I realized that eventually. You were just looking out for yourself. I probably would have done the same thing. Besides, it got me out of the Bureau and on to bigger and better things."

Jeffrey looked up again with a tight smile, not quite the smirk but the best he could manage. "I'm glad it worked out for you."

Trask laughed. "Better than it has for you, apparently."

The blond heaved a sigh. "Will, they're not going to be far behind."

"Yeah, yeah." Trask reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a long zip tie which he tossed on the floor beside Jeffrey. "You," he pointed his gun at Tim's face. "Bind his hands."

Tim hesitated and Trask pointed the gun back at Jeffrey. "I can hurt him more."

Tim stepped forward, slowly, and knelt down beside his brother. Jeffrey put his hands behind his back and Tim picked up the tie. His own hands trembling, he put it around Jeffrey's wrists, slipped the tongue through the hole, and pulled. The plastic teeth made a zipping sound.

"Tight," Trask ordered.

Tim pulled the tie tighter and a moment later a foot to his back sent him sprawling on the floor. Before he could recover, the blond had grabbed his wrists and bound them similarly behind his back. Trask didn't have to tell her to make it tighter. The narrow plastic bit into Tim's flesh, cutting off the blood flow to his hands. She then pulled the tie on Jeffrey's wrists even tighter.

"Get up," Trask ordered. Tim struggled to his feet, difficult to do without using his hands for balance. Still suffering from the blow to his head, Jeffrey had a harder time of it and the blond finally had to grab his arm, dragging him up.

Trask stepped forward and grabbed Jeffrey's face, turning his head so he could see the right side of his head and his bandaged ear.

"Did we do that?"

Jeffrey nodded.

"This morning, at the park? Sorry about that, pal. At the time our orders were to take you both out."

"Orders from who?" Jeffrey asked.

"Whom," Tim corrected, earning a scowl from his brother and a laugh from Trask.

"Check outside," Trask told the blond. "All in good time," he told Jeffrey.

The blond opened the door a crack. "Clear," she said.

Trask motioned them outside with his gun and followed them while the blond led the way around the motel to the back alley. Parked beside Jeffrey's Pontiac was the black Lexus from the park.

Trask had the keys. He hit a button on the remote, unlocking the doors, and then tossed the keys to the blond. She pulled open the driver's side rear door and ordered the brothers in.

"Jeffrey first," Trask said just as Tim was about to climb in. Tim didn't understand why, what difference it made, but he wasn't about to argue. He stepped aside and let Jeffrey in first.

"You know how it works," Trask said to Jeffrey. "All the way over." Once Jeffrey was in Trask motioned Tim in. Tim slid over next to his brother and Trask came in last, pushing Tim into the middle. Tim supposed Trask felt it was safer keeping Jeffrey isolated. Tim presented less of a threat. But he wasn't comfortable sitting next to Trask the Torturer. And sitting on his bound hands was simply painful.

The blond got in behind the wheel, started the engine, and pulled away.

On Tim's right side Jeffrey shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. "I don't suppose you'd tell us where you're taking us," he said.

"You suppose right," Trask replied.

"Then can you give me an idea of how long a drive it will be?"

Trask laughed. "Let's just say you may as well sit back and relax."

"Right," Jeffrey murmured, struggling to find a position that didn't hurt his wrists.

Tim knew how he felt; his own hands and wrists ached from the constriction of the tie and his own weight pressing down on them. He leaned forward and turned to the side, trying to find a comfortable position. As he did so he happened to catch a glimpse out the rear window of the Lexus. They had already pulled out of the motel's parking lot and were heading west, in the direction Denny's lay, and toward I95. They were maybe a hundred yards from the motel when, behind them, two dark SUVs sped out of the motel's lot.

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