This chapter includes Prompts 7&8 - Everything is risked to win something. A solution is needed by morning

Doc sat with head in his hand as he listened to the report from his team leader. They had picked up the couple leaving a mall in the far west end of the city on the building's CCTV. A further search through cameras in the area showed them entering a private residence hotel about a mile from the mall. A visit to the residence confirmed they were there and there was evidence of gun play in the room they occupied.

"It's where John was shot." Doc said.

"Correct. Three bullet holes in the door, and three holes in the wall behind a picture. He did a bang up job cleaning the room though."

"I'm sure. So, now what, do you have any more leads?"

"Looks like he knew there were cameras about but we still managed to get a glimpse of them at a bus stop. I have men tracking the bus route, speaking to drivers, and I expect something soon."

"Okay . . . good work, Ian. Keep me posted."

He sat back and clasped his hands behind his head. Where would you go, Chase? Not by bus, that's for sure. You'd get a car. Now where would you get a car? He closed his eyes and tried to picture the different scenarios. Why take a bus? You could have ordered a rental by a public phone and had it delivered anywhere using one of your fake ID packages. Didn't want to burn one or maybe too risky. Steal one? Also risky. Private sale - title jumped. "Now that sounds more like you, Chase," Doc smiled at the room and picked up his phone again.

******

Paula absently studied the passing scenery, her thoughts on this complicated, crazy development between them. How could it possibly work? The man was a killer, that was his line of work. Not the domestic situation where he comes home and you ask how was your day? This is absolute craziness to even contemplate a relationship. Her eyes slid over to his profile, and she felt the slight flutter of attraction. No. Absolutely not.

"What happens if Sanford refuses?" She suddenly broke her own reverie.

"I'd rather think he'll go along."

"You seem so certain."

"I have to be."

"But you said he was the one that hired you to- for this - isn't that taking a big risk?"

"He was, but money dictates your decisions, and when money is involved, morals take a back seat. He'll start out being angry and threatening, but when we explain the possibilities, he'll come around. If he doesn't, we will be out of options."

"Then what?"

"One bridge at a time."

She sighed in frustration. "I can't figure you out at all. You admit to being a killer for hire. You break your own code to help me, and you spout these philosophies, it's- I just- I just don't know."

"Would you feel more vindicated if spoke in monosyllabic grunts?"

"No, of course not. I just-"

"There are whole government departments that do what I do, all over the world. The difference is, I do it privately for money, and yes, I do have a code, and it prevents me from crossing my personal moral lines."

"But taking lives, doesn't that bother you? I mean what gives you the right?"

"Most of the assignments I take are from your uncle and people like him, and usually there is a proven case for the action. I don't go around knocking off cheating husbands or indebted gamblers." Chase blew out a breath and squeezed the steering wheel.

Paula heard the frustration in his voice, and she fell back on her confused feelings once again. He was intelligent, educated, empathetic - dangerous, cold-hearted, and a killer!

"Are we going to his place tonight, or- or stopping somewhere?"

He flicked a glance at the dashboard clock. "Which would you prefer? If we go straight there, you won't be eating or resting for quite a while."

"What do you think we should do?"

"No matter what we do, we need a solution by morning. Your uncle will have a team looking for us and those people are good. You saw how John tracked us. Difference is, it won't be one person. This is our last shot, Paula."

She looked away, biting her lip. The actual danger had been buried under her silly analysis of an impossible relationship - still . . .

"If we only have until morning, I guess we should keep going. We won't have a solution if we stop." She shocked herself with the pleading sound of her words, covering them with a suggestion of picking up something to go."

"We'd still have to stop to eat it. I'm not big on eating and driving at the same time." He glanced at the clock again, then a quick peek at her. "It's five-thirty. We can find a place to stop, eat, and grab some sleep for a couple of hours, then hit Sanford's around eleven or twelve. That's about when we should get there."

Again she chastised herself for a silly surge of nervous excitement. Stopping and sleeping . . . my God woman, get a grip! She cleared her throat, and nodding, agreed with his idea.

"Okay, next motel we see that has food too."

******

"We got lucky, Mr. Reagan. Your suggestion was spot on. Chase did buy a car privately. The seller was more than co-operative when we braced him. Apparently Chase had implied an unhappy future if he told anyone - our threat was imminent, so he caved."

"Any idea where they went?"

"Only the direction when he left the seller's place. The GPS was removed from the car. We've got men covering the most promising routes, so I think we'll get lucky again."

"Don't assume, Ian, he's nothing if not devious in his thinking." Doc paused and looked at the map he had showing where the car was purchased. "This is another hunch, but the direction they are heading would take them toward Whitthall's place . . . there's a remote possibility . . ."

"I can send a few men there right away. If you are right, this will be over before morning. Meanwhile we'll keep on with our grid search."

"Yes, yes . . . keep me posted." He hung up slowly and sat staring at the map.

******

"You've got one bloody nerve calling me, Reagan!"

"It's not something I'm happy about either, but circumstances demanded it."

"The only circumstances I care about are suing your ass three ways to Sunday for this broken nose."

"I am sorry about that. It wasn't intentional."

"Bullshit!"

"Okay, Sanford, are you done? Can I explain why I called?" The silence inferred permission, so Regan continued with his suspicions of what might be happening with Chase and his niece.

"Why would they come here?" Sanford's voice had lost a lot of the threatening tone.

"My guess would be to extract something from you, after all, you hired him in the first place."

"At your suggestion, you bastard!" The tone was back. "What do I have he could want?"

"I don't know, I'm just playing a hunch. If I'm wrong, I'll advise you. If I'm right, I expect the same."

"One thing you can expect for sure, is a letter from my lawyer."

The call ended, and both parties sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts.