Answers From The Past

Sailed out of the Gulf headin' for Saint Pierre
Nothin' to declare, all we had was gone
Broke down along the coast but what hurt the most
When the people there said, "You better keep movin' on"

~ Acadian Driftwood

Robbie Robertson, The Band

CHAPTER ONE

Alexandria, Louisiana

January 20th; Midnight

The Attakapa native breathed deeply, taking in the energies coming from Grandmother moon. Standing nearly as tall as the top of the seven-foot high gate entrance, he punched in the code and it opened. The dim glow of a lamp inside the guest quarters caught his eye.

"Hold tight, Monique," he whispered.

A very pregnant young woman inhabited the guest area, imprisoned there. He had delivered her to this place himself, under orders from his boss. Walking in silence, he crept along the edge of light and shadow. He vowed never to set foot on these unhallowed grounds again.

The boss and his wife were the only ones home, and they would have gone upstairs to their separate bedrooms after watching the 11 o'clock news. Ted, their son, was the only one who always slept lightly, guarding against the pregnant woman's escape. The DNA test would have been done today and they would be impatiently awaiting the results. The Attakapa native smiled, grateful that The Sacred had offered some assistance tonight. Ted had been removed to a downtown hotel with a woman who had been more than willing to accept payment to entice him there.

Quietly shutting the door, the man knelt down in the hallway and beckoned the two dogs toward him. Bentley nuzzled close, letting out a faint sound as he yawned. The purebred American Akita, Sidney, was this man's favorite, and Sidney received some extra affection along with a piece of leftover steak. Bentley then received his morsel and soon after, both dogs became docile, circled briefly and laid down.

Without a sound the man crept down the hall toward the guest room. Key turned, latch clicked; dim light revealed the young woman lying on the bed, doubled over and moaning.

His motions instructed her to put her arms around his neck. She obeyed, and he lifted her gently. In spite of the heat, he could feel cold sweat through her nightgown.

Her voice, although weak, uttered his name.

"Rick."

"Yes cardinal," he replied. She let out a groan and he gently turned her face into his shoulder. Back at the front entrance moments later, he opened the door and closed it soundlessly.

Over the past two days, Rick had worked out some kinks in his rescue plan. The front door got well-oiled until the squeak was gone, and practice runs with a hundred pound sack of mulch had prepared him to get from the door to the gate in a half-minute. He had repeatedly punched in the code at the gate until muscle memory did it with precision. The gate entrance problem could not be solved and metal would touch on metal when it opened. Chances were the dogs would hear it and start barking

Her cries grew more intense. He felt her labored breaths and knew it would be soon. Adrenalin surged through him. All the practice paid off when his fingers moved accurately over the seven numbers and the gate opened..

"Please...stop...stop," she moaned."

"Can't, cardinal."

Headlights flicked on and off once, telling him they had timed this perfectly.