“I've had better days,” Tracy replied. “I could really go for some breakfast, though. Getting shot makes me hungry.”
Mr. Hayes chuckled and kissed her forehead. She leaned into him, drawing strength from him. Her arm ached, despite the medicine the medic had given her. Someone had said something about the doctor being delayed, but as long as the medicine kept working she didn't care.
“I'm just glad you're okay,” he whispered. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”
“You'd probably have to sell the restaurant,” she teased. He gave her a stern look.
“Not funny, Tracy.”
“Sir, we got him!” One of the men in uniform called out, interrupting their moment. “He's heading west on the highway.”
“I want him intercepted,” Mr. Hayes told him. He gave Tracy a quick kiss on the forehead. “You stay here. The doctor should be here shortly.”
“Stay here?” Tracy asked, not following. “Where are you going?”
“To bring down John Tice,” Mr. Hayes answered. The helicopter blades started to spin as several of the men piled back into the helicopter.
“Like hell I'm staying here,” Tracy said, staggering to her feet.
“Tracy-” Mr. Hayes started.
“No. I need to see this finished,” she told him stubbornly. “Besides, look what happened the last time you tried to leave me behind.”
Mr. Hayes frowned. “Please tell me you don't have a helicopter stashed around here that you're going to follow me with.”
“It would please me.”
Mr. Hayes sighed. “But you stay in the helicopter the whole time, understand?”
Tracy nodded, her head feeling strangely light. She knew she hadn't lost enough blood to make her woozy, the medic had even said the bleeding was minimal.
Tracy suspected it had something to do with dream visions.
She followed Mr. Hayes and several uniformed soldiers onto the dark helicopter. She didn't know much about military weaponry, but from what she could see of the helicopter and its computer systems, it was a top of the line military tool. She didn't even want to know what Mr. Hayes paid to use it.
The ground fell away as the chopper lifted into the air. Tracy pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose, hoping that the change in altitude would help clear the pressure growing in her head. It felt like one of the dream connections, despite the fact that she hadn't had the blinding white light that usually preceded it.
It had to do with John Tice. The visions hadn't bothered her until she connected with him. The dreams had only become chaotic after merging with his. He was the key. His connection with her was what was causing the pain. She didn't know why, but she knew she needed to connect with him again. Kind of like resetting a switch by overloading it, she needed to connect again.
The more she thought about it, the more she knew the headaches and the lack of consistency in her dreams was due to John Tice. He had been the one dreaming of his evil henchman. He had been the one dreaming of Gordon. He had been the one dreaming of hurting her.
The power of his dreams and the intensity of his hate were fueling the dreams. She hadn't been able to connect with anyone else because his connection with her was so strong. He hated her that much that he was forcing out all the other dreams, forcing her brain to defend itself constantly against the onslaught of hostility he kept sending her.
No wonder she'd been having headaches.
The helicopter flew across the treetops, the men inside silent as they prepared. Tracy was the last to spot the dark SUV traveling down the road. John had taken an exit and was no longer on the helicopter.
It felt like a scene from a movie. Everything moved in slow motion with every detail magnified and yet somehow distorted at the same time. The helicopter hovered over the black SUV, following its every move as the driver tried to find a way to elude the floating machine.
Four black SUVs with the Hayes' logo came out of nowhere, flanking John's car. Between the four vehicles and the helicopter, he had no where to go.
He pulled over and was quickly put in handcuffs.
Tracy's hair danced in the wind as the helicopter landed and let the two of them out. John was pressed up against the side of the car, his hands bound behind him and his gray suit crinkled. He didn't look nearly as confident as he had an hour ago.
“You tried to have me killed,” Mr. Hayes said.
“Fuck you.” The older man spat, but it came no where near Mr. Hayes or Tracy.