Work in Progress:  Traveling Bride:   

Excerpt 1

“Stop him! Stop that man!” FBI Agent Mick Haas’ steps thudded down the corridor of the federal building as he ran, gun draw, after the man known as ‘the cutter,’ so named because that was how he killed his victims...he cut them up. “Ahmed Alzaha, stop or I will shoot.”

Dodging into an open doorway the Cutter ran blindly into what at first glance appeared to be a window. To his surprise the window sealed around him and the floor of what he now realized was a booth began to move and shift under him. A deafening silence greeted his ears as the people in the room seemed to fade from site. His cries of “Allah is good, Allah is great” escaping the sealed booth as Alzaha disappeared from view.

“Where is he? Where did he go? What did you do?” Haas pointed his gun at the three other people in the room.

“Check the coordinates, get a fix,” a dark haired woman ordered as she aimed her own weapon at Haas.

“Got it, and fixed position,” a Black woman answered without glancing up from the console she had immediately gone to.

“You, away from the door, sit in that chair,” the dark haired woman ordered Mick.

“That was my pri…”

“Shut up. You shut up till we get stabilized.”

As Mick sat he saw that the woman had taken the safety off her Sig Sauer and he had from the expression on her face he no doubt she would pull the trigger without the slightest provocation on his part.

“You sure you got the fix, Jazz?”

“I do indeed Mizz Sami, I do indeed.”

Sami. Mick knew that name. Sami Pettis, one of ACT’s—Advanced Counter Terrorism’s top agents. ACT, a clandestine agency under the purview of Homeland Security which purported had more gadgets and gizmos than the CIA and James Bond rolled into one. And Sami—she had a reputation for shooting first and asking questions later. Not a good sign here he was looking down the barrel of Sami Pettis’ gun. He noticed the guy in the room had simply stood observing Sami and the woman called Jazz but did nothing to intervene either when Ahmed ran into the room or Sami snapped out her orders like a drill Sgt. on adrenaline. Sami cut her gaze off to him and at his nod she asked Mick, “Who were you chasing?”

“Ahmed Alzaha.”

“The terrorist who went on trial this morning?”

“The same.”

“You want to tell me what he was doing running down the corridor and not on a leash by your side?”

“Not really…he grabbed hold of my partner’s gun…didn’t get it out of the holster, but in the attempt all hell broke loose and he started running. I took off after him and he ran in here and, thanks to you stopping the pursuit, he’s escaped.”

“Yeah, maybe, maybe not. Jazz?”

Jazz cut a look at Mick before looking back to Sami for confirmation before speaking. “He’s in Wyoming.”

“What? Are you nuts?”

“What year?”

“1857.”

* * * *

Excerpt 2

Both disconnected without another word. All words would have done was keep Sami from doing what her heart told her was the only thing to do.

Grabbing her back pack she did a quick survey of her apartment…at the things she would need, the things she wanted, the few things she would want in her new time but wouldn’t’ disrupt their world. Snatching up several pairs of favorite jeans, some oversized shirts, a few t-shirts and every thong she owned she jammed them into the bag. Tooth brushes, tooth paste, shampoo…things for a trip and things she would have to remember to obliterate when she was done.

When Jazz arrived all the did was nod at each other. Sami knew Jazz would take care of the apartment. Maybe Brandon’s brother Ken would want it. Maybe not. It didn’t matter. Jazz would take care of it.

In the car neither spoke, Sami looking out the window at the city she would never see again, the familiar sites that she saw and took for granted and knew she wouldn’t miss. Jazz focused on the road ahead until she stopped in front of a Starbucks.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s gonna be your last latte for a time…for the rest of your life. Don’t you want one for the road?”

Without a word Sami climbed out of the car, the look of determination never leaving her face. When she emerged a few minutes later it was with two three shot, extra hot vente lattes, “I figured I’d bring one for Rick so he’d see what the future holds and I got extra hot so its still a little warm after the journey back.”

“And after you jump that man’s bones.”

Her look remained stoic as she nodded. “Exactly. Jazz…you’re sure this is the right thing?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have suggested it.”

A few minutes later they entered the building, Jazz signed in while Sami headed towards the elevator…who knew or cared what she wrote for her?

The whole ride up to their floor, still neither spoke. Sami’s face could have been carved in stone. Entering the transport room she walked straight to the chamber, entered and turned to face Jazz. Raising the one latte in salute, her voice more clear and strong than she thought possible she told Jazz, “Thank you, I love you like a sister, somehow I’ll let you know I made it back.”

The staid look on Sami’s face broke into a brilliant smile, perhaps the biggest one she had ever worn in her life. There was no doubt she made the right choice.

* * * *

With an accuracy that only Jazz had Sami materialized in Rick’s living room. The jump was so silent, so smooth, he didn’t realize she was there, drinking in the site she had missed for so many months.

There he stood, so tall, so absolutely gorgeous. With only a faint shimmer of moonlight breaking through the French doors, a shard of light stroked his chest. Sans his shirt the powerful muscles seemed sculpted of finest marble in the pale light, his six pack abs seeming to beckon her to dip her hand into the waistband of his pants…the top button undone, showing his navel. Her eyes dipped lower past his powerful thighs,…he was barefoot. As her gaze again moved upward she drank in the curve of his tight butt, her fingers itching to cup each cheek while he pounded into her. Finally lifting her eyes to take in his face, wanting to see his smile when he realized she was there something struck her as odd.

Something was wrong.

Rick was standing on the right. He always stood on the left. He was on the wrong side of the door.

She watched as he slowly raised his right arm, towards his head, she smiled to herself, I’m just in time for a night cap with him. Something is wrong. Something…

Training and intuition took over. The first word to roar from her lips was “Gun!”

Followed quickly with the terror filled “Nooooooooooooo.”