Covert Steele
Part Thirteen

Laura easily scaled the back wall of the house, then waited seemingly interminable minutes before Remington joined her. "You okay?" she asked.

"Fine," he replied tersely.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Laura decided. "We could still go back, call the police and have them-"

Remington shook his head. "I got over that wall once. When I leave, it's through the front gate. Now let's go." He led the way, not giving her any further chance to coddle him. He'd gone through too much on this one, finally making love with Laura, facing down an old enemy, stealing the Royal Lavulite to save Laura's life, getting shot. He wasn't about to give up now. He reached up to rub his shoulder again, felt a damp spot on the dark material of his jacket. He was bleeding again. He considered telling Laura, but decided against it. Once they were upstairs, he'd be able to sit quietly, and maybe it would stop. He hoped it would. Right now, however, those bloody pain pills that Laura kept trying to foist on him were looking pretty good.

Laura followed Remington into the house through the living room door that she had used earlier. There, she paused behind him to get her bearings in the dark house. "What now?" she asked.

"Upstairs. I don't think they're in the house yet. Haven't had time."

"I didn't notice their car, did you?"

"I doubt they parked it close enough to arouse suspicion after their little run in with the police earlier. Probably took a taxi or had someone drop them off."

Remington took her hand and they ascended the stairs together, keeping close to the wall, just in case. He pushed open the bedroom door, and released the breath he'd been holding. "It's clear," he told her, entering the room. "Hiding places. Hmmm."

"The bathroom?" she suggested.

"Too far from the door. If they realize we're there, they'd get out before we could get to them."

"You're right. Then I'll slip in beside that chest over there- they'll never see me." She pointed to a tall chest of drawers on the wall beside the closet door." She picked up a chair from the dressing table and placed it behind the bedroom door, in a dark corner. "You can sit there."

"Sit?" Remington questioned.

"Sit," Laura repeated firmly, pointing toward the chair as she did so. When he didn't move, she gave him a gentle shove in that direction, saw him wince "You're in pain, aren't you?"

"I told you, I'm fine," Remington said, smiling. "But if it will make you feel better, I'll sit." He sat down as they heard a noise downstairs.

"Show time," she whispered. "Don't do anything foolish, okay?"

"Same goes for you," Remington said, watching as she vanished into the corner she'd picked out. He slowly slid a hand beneath his jacket and winced again. It hadn't stopped bleeding. In fact, it was worse. And it hurt like hell.

***

Mildred watched as Daniel punched a code into the box beside the drive, then waited. "Didn't work, Daniel," she told him. "Let's go back to the car. We're sitting ducks out here like this." Daniel pulled a penknife from his pocket and pried off the faceplate of the control panel, quickly stripped two wires and twisted them together. The gate slid back with a soft "whir". "How'd you do that?" she asked.

"More than one way to skin a cat, my dear," he told her. "After you. I don't know how long this will hold, so we'd best be off." They had watched two men as they were dropped off by a car in front of the house, only to have them easily scale the wall beside the gate. "Harry's going to have to invest in a new alarm system," Daniel commented. "This one is too easily overcome."

"By someone who's done it before," Mildred agreed, jumping as the gate began to move again moments after they passed through it. "What now?" she asked.

"They went in via the front door," Daniel told her.

Mildred gasped as she saw the door standing partially open. "And they left an escape route." She hesitated. "Daniel, maybe we should call the police. Have them come and back up Miss Holt and Mr. Steele. These guys could be dangerous."

"Precisely why we have to do this, Mildred. They're in the house at this moment- by the time the police arrive, they'll be long gone if Harry and Laura can't stop them." He looked thoughtful. "I have an idea. Come along."

Mildred followed, still thinking that they were going to be in big trouble when Mr. Steele and Miss Holt found out what they were doing.

***

Remington's eyes, having adjusted to the darkness, saw the bedroom door open slowly toward him, made out the shadowy forms of two men, each carrying a flashlight. He tensed as they shone the beams around the room, searching, no doubt, for the closet. A little more to the right, and the light would reveal Laura's hiding place. "There it is," one of them said, his light on the closet door. Both beams swung in that direction, and Remington relaxed slightly. "Not many clothes in here," the burglar commented to his partner.

"Yeah. You'd think a ritzy couple like that would have more, wouldn't you? Here's one," he said. "Careful. Don't break the bag again. The Boss said we lost too much last time, remember?"

"I'm bein' careful. There. Got the sack?"

"Right here." They went through the same thing three times. Then there was sound of growing frustration. "What's going on here? They said there were four in this shipment."

"There aren't anymore hangers, George. Maybe they made a mistake?"

"Guess so. We'll tell the Boss about it, see what he wants to do."

"Three bags. Not much of a take, if you ask me. Almost not enough to risk this job on."

"We aren't getting paid by the haul, remember, Jake. It's per job. Let's get out of here."

Jake and George came from the closet as Remington turned on the lights. "Can I help you gentlemen find something?"

Both men froze, blinded by the bright light. "This, for instance?" Remington asked, holding up the fourth bag of white powder.

"Gimme that," the one called Jake said.

"I don't think so. And you're not going anywhere with the other three."

"You think you're gonna stop us?" George asked, as a gun appeared in his hand. "Give the bag to Jake, here. And if you don't think I'll use this, you're wrong," he told Remington. "Dead wrong, pal."

Remington's eyes moved slightly behind George to where Laura was hovering, waiting to make a move. His right hand went up, and he held out the left one with the bag in it. "Okay. You win. Take it."

"Get the bag, Jake," George ordered. When Jake took a step toward him, Remington nodded once, and Laura leapt from the corner onto George's back, grabbing his arm that held the gun and holding it up. It went off, and George managed to shake Laura off, sending her into the closet. George grabbed the door and pushed it closed, setting a chair under the knob, effectively barring her exit.

Remington, meanwhile, had tackled Jake, and had the smaller man pinned to the floor, when the barrel of George's gun came into his line of sight. "Let him go," George ordered, pulling the hammer back on the weapon. "Now."

Feeling curiously light headed, Remington nodded once, then started to get to his feet, only to collapse onto the carpet. He heard Laura banging on the closet door, saw George raise the weapon in that direction and take aim. "Laura!" he called out with his last ounce of strength. "Get down!"

Laura heard the warning and fell to the floor seconds before the bullet tore through the door, splintering the wood. *The man's using an elephant gun,* she decided, seeing the huge hole that the bullet left.

"What about him?" she heard Jake ask.

"He's unconscious," George announced. "Bleeding pretty badly. He won't live much longer. Get the other bag and let's go. Someone's probably heard the shots and already called the cops."

Through the hole in the door, Laura saw the two men leave, but the bed blocked her view of Remington, who was obviously on the floor near the door. Forcing her hand through the splintered wood, ignoring the scratches she felt, she managed to grab the chair and slide it out from the doorknob, allowing her to open the door.

She ran to Remington's side. "Remington?"

***

"Com'on, Jake," George urged. "Let's go." He rushed headlong down the stairs, only to come to an abrupt stop as something grabbed at his ankles and sent him toppling headfirst onto the tiled floor below. His gun went flying across the entryway.

Mildred grabbed the gun and held it on Jake, since George was obviously not going anywhere. "Freeze scumbag," she ordered.

Daniel managed a smile in her direction. "I rather like the way you said that, Mildred." He looked up at the man on the stairs. "I wouldn't move if I were you. She's a crack shot. The police are on their way."

"How will they get through the gates?" Mildred asked, recalling what he'd done to open them earlier.

"I'll be back in a moment to take care of that problem," he told her. "Right now, I'm going to check on Harry and Laura."

He found Laura kneeling on the floor beside Harry, his head in her lap. "Are you all right, my dear?" he asked, putting aside his fear for Harry for a moment.

"I think so," she told him in a shaky voice. "But Remington's not. His shoulder's bleeding again. I-"

"I called the police and an ambulance," Daniel told her. "When I heard the first shot. They should be here any moment. But I need the gate access code to let them in."

"I don't know it," Laura realized.

"100182," Remington told them weakly. His hand came up to grip Laura's. "Most important day in my life."

Daniel looked at Laura for an explanation. Through her tears, she smiled at him. "The day we met," she said.

The sound of sirens filled the night air. "I'd better go. Hang on, Harry," he said in a strained voice. "Don't give up."

"Never, Daniel," Remington promised, but his gaze was fixed on Laura. "Never."

"You should have told me you were bleeding again," she whispered.

"And missed all the excitement?" he asked. "Couldn't have that."

She smoothed the hair from his forehead. "Shh. Save your strength. We can talk later."

"Have to tell you-"

"I know. You told me that night in Hawaii, remember?"

"Didn't think you heard," he murmured, his eyes closing.

"I heard, Mr. Steele," she assured him. "I heard."

***

This time, Laura told the police that she'd talk to them later, and accompanied Remington to the hospital- in the ambulance. Considering that he refused to let go of her hand, the attendants had little choice in the matter, she supposed. He'd lost a lot of blood. She knew that, and it worried her that the attendants seemed worried about it as well.

Not the blood loss specifically, though. The *type* of blood. "Is that a problem?" she asked one of them. "The hospital in Hawaii didn't have any problem with Mr. Steele's blood type."

"They were lucky enough to have enough on hand," the paramedic explained. "He's got a relatively rare blood type, Miss. The hospital's trying to locate some, but the blood supplies in the area are pretty depleted right now."

"What if you can't find the right type?" she wanted to know, but the paramedic turned his attention back to taking readings of blood pressure and heart rate. She looked at Remington's face. "Don't you die on me," she ordered. "Don't you *dare* die on me."

***

In the emergency room, the doctor spoke with Laura before ushering her into the waiting area. Since Remington was now fully unconscious, he couldn't object. "I'm sorry, Miss Holt. We'll do what we can. We've located a small amount of his type blood. And we've put out a call for donors- but the chances aren't good."

"Can't you give him another blood type? O or something?"

"As a last resort, yes. But that's dangerous. And in his weakened condition- possibly fatal. I'll let you know as soon as I know anything," he promised.

She was pacing the waiting area when Daniel and Mildred arrived. "How is he?" Mildred asked, seeing Laura's tear streaked face.

"Not good. It seems that- Mr. Steele has a relatively rare blood type- and they're *out* of it!"

"What?" Mildred asked. "In this city? No one has the same type blood?"

"Oh, I'm sure they do. But the hospital doesn't have enough on hand. And neither do the blood banks in the area."

Daniel started toward the door. "Where are you going?" Mildred asked, her arm still around the distraught young woman.

"To donate blood," he told them. "It so happens that Harry and I have the same blood type. I won't be long."

Laura looked up at the man that she had always seemed to be in a silent battle of wills with over Remington's future. He seemed suddenly older, more fragile, somehow. As if his usual façade of self confidence had been stripped away, leaving a vulnerable old man to face the world. "Daniel?"

He came to her and took her hands in his. "I'll do anything for Harry, Laura. He's that important to me. I'll even let him go to stay here with you if that's what he wants." He kissed her hands. "We'll talk when I get back," he promised. "Right now, I have to do this-for Harry's sake."

Laura nodded, unable to speak. The implications of what he had just told her were too great. "Miss Holt," Mildred asked in a dazed tone of voice, "did I just hear what I *think* I heard?"

Laura wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging herself. Why were hospitals always so damn cold, she wondered. "I don't know, Mildred. All I know is that Daniel might be Remington's only chance to survive. Beyond that, I won't even try to guess."

Daniel entered the room where the doctor was working on Harry, ignoring the objections of the young nurse who tried to stop him. "I hear you're looking for blood donors, doctor- You have one."

To Be Continued---

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Original content ©2000 by Nancy Eddy