Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run (26 page)

BOOK: Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run
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He fought to suppress his grin. “Sorry, luv. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I can see how sorry you are by the smirk you’re trying to hide.”

He draped an arm over her shoulders. When she tried to shrug it off, he tightened his grip. “The fact is, Tess, Max didn’t abandon you. He stayed with you until he couldn’t, and then he left you with someone he thought would keep you safe. If you want to be pissed that he wasn’t completely honest with you, fine. You’re entitled. But don’t blame him for something he had no control over. Max is one of the good guys.”

“You really like him, don’t you?”

“I do. And I think you’re smart enough to realize not everyone will automatically betray or abandon you.” He ran a hand down her arm. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m still here.”

“Levi, I—”

“Hush,” he said, stopping her words with a finger to her lips. “No need to say anything. I just want you to know you can trust some people. We’re going to make mistakes, luv. That’s part of being human. But that doesn’t mean we’re not trustworthy, or we don’t have your best interests at heart.

“And sometimes, you have to put someone else’s needs above your own, even if it hurts. That’s what Max did. I also think a lot of what you’re feeling is bruised pride.” Getting to his feet, he bent down and kissed her nose. “I’ll go tell Wilson you’ve agreed to the deposition, and you can go back to your book.”

He left the library, wondering if he’d helped or hurt her. For sure, he hadn’t helped his own chances if he’d convinced her to forgive Max. But as he’d said, this was one of those times when he had to put her needs before his own.

And it hurt like a bitch.

 

***

                                                                                         

Saturday, April 5
th
, 6:13 a.m., ten miles east of Ciudad Juarez, Mexico:

 

Max glanced at his watch. Where were the terrorists? They should have been here by now.

Twenty meters back from a trail leading through the desert, Max lay belly-down on the ground under the early morning sun. On one side of him lay Corporal Ryan, on the other, Tom Davis. A CIA chief of station didn’t go into the field as a rule, but Davis had insisted.
Probably to make sure I don’t go ballistic if we don’t succeed this time
.

On the other side of Davis, spread out in a line southward along the trail, lay eight U.S. Marines from Force Recon. Everyone on the team wore desert gilly-suits and carried high-powered rifles.

The cover here was sparse—mostly creosote bushes,
muhly
grass, barrel cacti, and stunted trees. But Max wasn’t worried. The gilly suits more than made up for any deficit. He and his men were invisible—unless someone tripped over them.

This time they’d gone with his plan. And he didn’t intend to fail. Every aspect of the ambush had been considered and reconsidered, analyzed and reanalyzed. If Murphy and his Law wanted to screw up this operation, they’d damn sure have to work for it.

Davis had left Max in charge of the team, for which Max was grateful. If this was to be his last field mission, he’d at least destroy his nemesis. He’d issued a “shoot-to-kill” order on all hostiles. There’d be no second chances for these bastards—Almasi wouldn’t kill any more innocent people.

But where the hell were they? Max checked his watch again. According to the
intel
, Almasi and his goons should’ve been walking along this trail with their coyote guide right now, but they weren’t. And each minute that passed felt like a year.

Two clicks on the radio from their point man told Max the quarry had been spotted. Finally. Answering with a single click, he felt a rush of dark pleasure and refused to be ashamed of it. Almasi would finally pay for the lives he’d taken. As long as you don’t get careless and screw this up. Banking down his emotions, Max focused on the mission.

He’d given strict orders that no one could shoot until he did. He
wanted to be sure he had Almasi in his sights before gunfire gave the ambush away
. Movement on the trail caught his eye. Raising his head a fraction, he peered through the scope on his rifle.

The Mexican coyote was in the lead with Almasi behind him, walking single file. Max turned his crosshairs on the third man in line. Just like Almasi, he carried a MAC-10 sub machine gun—the perfect weapon for gunning down unsuspecting civilians.

The point man transmitted another two clicks on the radio, meaning the last member of the group was in range. Max gave the three-click, “Get ready.” Flipping the safety off his rifle, he centered Almasi’s chest in the crosshairs, held his breath, and gently squeezed the trigger.

Almasi crumpled. Davis and the marines opened fire. As the terrorists collapsed under a barrage of lead, Max had to search for a target. He got a second kill, and then it was over.

The coyote stood three meters up the trail, staring at the bodies, his mouth open, his eyes wide with shock. Max gave four clicks on the radio for “Stay down and don’t move.” The Mexican started toward one of the terrorists then shook his head, turned around, and hightailed it up the trail.

Max waited until he was out of sight before giving the “all clear.” The team rose up off the ground.

“Grab all the guns, check for pulses to be sure they’re dead, then make tracks out of here,” he ordered over the radio. “Everyone’s responsible for policing your own kills. Let’s move it, marines!”

He walked to Almasi’s body. Instead of the relief he’d expected, he was consumed with rage. Somehow killing the man didn’t feel like payment enough. The murdering bastard should’ve been made to suffer. Grabbing Almasi’s MAC-10, he checked for a pulse. Not a flicker. Almasi was now checking out his new condo in Hell.

“Why take the guns?” Ryan asked as he and Davis walked up to stand beside Max.

“Because we don’t want to provide weapons for the next illegals coming through here.” Max snatched the gun from his other kill. No pulse. Good. “They might just decide to use them on our own border guards,” he added. “Move out, Corporal. We’re done here.”

“Yes, sir.” Ryan hoisted his weapons and ran off after the other marines.

Davis shook his head. “He’s a good kid, but, God, he’s green. And so young. We were never that young and green, were we, Max?”

“Doesn’t seem possible, does it, old man?” Max took one last look around the A.O. then headed out. “But everybody starts off that way. Unfortunately, only the lucky ones live long enough to become ancient and experienced like us.”

“Good point,” Davis conceded. “By the way, well done. We got them all and took zero casualties. A nice mission to retire to The Farm on.”

Max snorted. “Right. When Amberson finds out about this, he’ll have my ass as well as my job.”

“Not a chance. Langley approved the mission.” Davis shot him a grin. “It was through the back door, but an approval’s an approval.”

“How the hell did you accomplish that?”

“I sent Operations a memo, detailing the mission, and added a caveat that unless I heard otherwise, I’d assume the mission was approved. Of course, due to a small clerical error, they won’t even get the memo until Monday.”

“Jesus, Tom.” Max had to laugh. Christ, it was good to have friends.

Davis snorted. “Hey, the mission was successful, Almasi’s group won’t be killing anyone on Easter Sunday, and—” he added with a chuckle, “—Amberson will have to give you a commendation.”

“Boy, that’ll chafe his ass.”

“Probably. How’s the shoulder?”

“Hurts like hell. It’s only been a week, after all. But this was worth the pain.”

They walked in silence for a while then Davis posed the question Max was sure he’d wanted to ask all morning. “When you get stateside, are you going to talk to Tess?”

Max sighed. “Give it a rest, Tom. I told you I burned my bridges with her. There’s no going back.”

“Christ, you’re stubborn, Max. As your friend, just let me say I think you’re being foolish. Bridges can be rebuilt, you know. And women forgive things that men think are unforgivable.” He grimaced. “Believe me,
Mindy
and I have been there, and she’s forgiven me things I thought would end our marriage.”

When Max opened his mouth to protest, Davis cut him off. “All I’m saying is, you don’t know for sure until you try.”

Max didn’t answer. Yes, bridges could be rebuilt, but only if you had a good foundation to start with. The intense few days he’d spent with Tess had been enough to break his heart, but not to build a proper basis for trust.

The amnesia had been both a gift and a curse. Because of it, he’d won and lost the greatest treasure of his life.

 

 

CHAPTER 19

 

 

Wednesday, April 23
rd
, 11:30 a.m., Federal Prosecutor’s Office, Salt Lake City, Utah
:

 

“God, I’m glad that’s over,” Tess said, as she left the deposition with Levi at her side. “I hope Nick will plead guilty now, instead of risking a trial. Not that I care if he gets the death penalty. I just want to be done with this.”

“That’s understandable,” Levi replied.

Tess glanced at him. He was always there for her. For three and a half hours that morning, he’d paced the hallway outside the office where she’d been answering questions. It had to stop. He was much too attached to her. She could see it in his eyes every time he looked at her. He was her best friend, and she cared about him. But it wasn’t enough for him, and she just couldn’t give him more.

It’s not fair to make him suffer like this. She had to let him go, she decided, as he opened the car door for her. Even though she needed him. Every ounce of comfort he gave her only added to his own pain. It was time to tell him goodbye and let him have a life.

When he slid behind the wheel, she started the conversation with a small sigh. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“It’s not right for you to have to spend so much time babysitting me. You don’t even have a life anymore.”

“I have all the life I want right here.”

“Levi, I—”

“Look, Tess,” he said, starting the car, “I know you don’t feel the same way about me that I do about you, but right now you need me. If only as a friend. How do you think I’d feel if something happened to you?”

“But this is so unfair to you!”

“So, whoever said life was fair?” Reaching over, he took her hand and flashed her a self-mocking grin. “I’m a big boy, Tess. I know what I’m doing. You worry about me too much.”

“Well, you don’t worry about yourself enough,” she muttered, but his words eased some of her guilt. And right now he was essential for her sanity. She needed his companionship and comfort to help her hold herself together until the hole left by Max had shrunk enough for her to handle it on her own.

He drove in silence for a while then asked, “What would I say to Jonas, if I let something happen to you?” Giving her hand a squeeze, he released it. “And I promised Max I’d keep you safe.”

“I doubt Max cares one way or another.”

“Still blaming him for the wrong things, I see.” He waved at a guard as he drove through the gates of the estate. “I guess that’s your choice, but if you want to get over your trust and abandonment issues, you need to see this clearly. After all, you can’t love if you can’t trust.”

“Please, Levi,” she begged, cringing as the pain washed over her again. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Sure, luv. Sorry I brought it up.” He parked at the top of the long curved driveway, got out, and came around to her side. “Let’s go see what the cook has for lunch.”

“I think I’ll skip lunch if you don’t mind. What I really need is a nap.” She hustled off to her room before her tears could embarrass her.

Levi’s argument was valid. She knew it. She also knew she’d blown any chance with Max when she refused to accept his apology and sent him away. But if she accepted that he hadn’t betrayed her, she couldn’t hold on to her rage. Without the anger for a defense, she was left wide open to the pain.

And she had no one to blame but herself and her stubborn pride.

 

***

 

Smooth move, asshole
. Disgusted with himself, Levi headed to Jonas’s study.
Why couldn’t I have just kept my damn mouth shut
?

Because Tess needed to hear it. She had to settle her past if she wanted a future. And she would. She was too smart not to recognize the truth. Eventually. Though he knew he should give up on her, he couldn’t. She meant too much to him.

Jonas was on the phone, so Levi paused at the study door and waited for the old man to hang up before crossing to the desk. “Any word on Tony?”

“No.” Jonas rubbed his eyes. “That was Special Agent Wilson,” he said, gesturing at the phone. “He says Tony hasn’t come through any border crossing station from Mexico or through any airport passport controls as far he can tell, but Tony’s an American citizen, and there are other ways into the U.S.”

“Such as?”

“Wilson didn’t elaborate. But how would you do it if you were Tony?”

Levi considered the question a moment. “He could try to get across the border with a coyote. But that’s risky. It’d be hard to explain if he got caught. The Mexicans would just be shipped back home, but Tony could go to prison.”

“I agree. Can you think of anything else?”

“Not at the moment, but—” Icy fingers of unease raised the hairs on the back of Levi’s neck as an unwanted thought intruded. “Christ, the bloody boat! I brought Tess and the others back from Baja on the plane and left
Nick’s Folly
at the La Paz Marina. Tony could motor up the coast to an American port and come in that way. That’s what I’d do.” He slumped into a chair by the desk. “I’d change the name, cruise up to Seattle, and come in through there. He’ll figure people won’t be expecting that. Lord, why didn’t I think of this before?” With a frustrated sigh, he added, “We’d better find out if the boat’s still in Mexico.”

Jonas picked up the phone and pressed the inter-office intercom button. “Gloria, contact the La Paz Marina and see if
Nick’s Folly
is still there...Yes, that’s right. You can probably get the phone number off the internet...No, I’ll hold.” After a few minutes of silence, Jonas groaned. “Thanks.” He hung up and dropped his head in his hands. “The boat left ten days ago.”

“That doesn’t give us much time. Depending on how far up the coast he goes, he could’ve reached his destination already.” Levi got up to pace, his thoughts racing. “Let’s fax a picture of Tony to all the marinas along the West Coast. Offer a reward for any information. We might want to alert the Canadian authorities as well. Wilson can do that for us.”

“The Canadian authorities?”

“Sure. There’s nothing to stop him from motoring up to British Columbia. He’d think no one would expect him to come through Canada. And he’s got to know we’re looking for him.”

“Of course. I’ll put Gloria right on it.” Jonas reached for the phone again then hesitated as Levi got up to leave. “How’s Tess?”

Levi knew he wasn’t asking about her health. He shrugged. “Nothing’s changed.”

“Are you giving up?”

“Not a chance.” Levi’s lips twitched as he laughed at himself. “I guess on some things I’m just as stubborn as she is.”

 

***

 

Saturday, April 26
th
, 5:53 p.m., the home of Max Maxwell, Williamsburg, Virginia
:

 

Guilt, grief, self-loathing, and whiskey—hell of a cocktail, Max mused. He slouched in a chair in his library, sipping bourbon and staring through the french doors at the snow crocuses coming up in his back garden. He’d only been back home a half dozen times since he bought the house, and he’d never noticed the crocuses before. Pretty. Almost as colorful as the bougainvillea he’d seen around the cottage in Baja.
Don’t think about that
.

The phone rang, but he let it go to voicemail. He was on leave, damn it. And it was probably just Tom, calling to rag him about Tess. Again.

Leaning his head against the back of his chair, he closed his eyes. He was exhausted. His two-week’s leave was up tomorrow, and he’d start teaching at The Farm on Monday. If he didn’t get some decent sleep this weekend, he wouldn’t be able to function.

While taking out Almasi had eased his guilt over David and the marines, it hadn’t given him the peace he’d hoped
for
. But that didn’t surprise him. Guilt over their deaths had never been the problem with his sleep. No, that problem had red hair and gray eyes.

He was helpless where she was concerned. One look at her, and his heart had stumbled. He’d wanted women before, cared about them before. He had been excited, thrilled, and infatuated. But he’d never been powerless. Or so utterly lost and out of control.

He hurt in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible—a gut wrenching ache deep down when he thought about life without her.
Stop it. She’s gone, damn it. Get over it, already
.

Shaking his head, he forced his thoughts away from her. I wonder if Tom will ever locate Tanner. So far, there hadn’t been a trace of him. Whatever hole the FBI agent was hiding in, it was dark and deep. Christ, Max wanted to get his hands on that bastard. He figured Tanner had almost as much to answer for as Almasi.

Hearing a soft meow, he glanced out at the garden. A shaggy orange cat stared back at him. The sight of it sent another spasm of pain through Max. Tess’d had an orange cat at her cottage. She’d called it Griffin.
I wonder what happened to it
. As the cat wandered off, Max’s thoughts returned to Tess. Was she okay? Did she ever think about him?

How the hell am I going to live without her
?

 

***

 

Monday, April 28
th
, 9:51 p.m., the country estate of Jonas McKenzie, outside Salt Lake City, Utah
:

 

“Excuse me, sir.” One of the guards stopped Levi on the way to his room. “Mr. McKenzie asked to see you. He says there’s news.”

Levi thanked him and hurried off to the study.

Jonas looked up when the door opened. “
Nick’s Folly
is now being called
Deadman’s
End
and is docked at the marina in Newport, Oregon. It got there three days ago.”

“How do they know it’s the same boat?”

“In addition to the picture of Tony, I had Gloria fax photos of the boat—inside and out—along with an offer of a reward for information to all the marinas on the West Coast. The harbor master, or whatever you call them, in Newport recognized
Nick’s Folly
, and got aboard with his camera.” He handed Levi a stack of photographs. “These just came by special messenger.”

Levi studied the pictures. “Yep, that’s her. So Tony’s been in-country seventy-two hours.” He glanced up at Jonas. “And you’re sure he’ll come after Tess?”

Jonas grunted and held up a sheet of paper. “The harbor master found this on the table in the salon and sent a copy of it along with the pictures.” He passed it to Levi. “It looks like a diagram of the street where your apartment is. And see on the back there. That’s a rough layout of my estate. So, yes, I’d say it’s fairly certain.”

“Yes,” Levi agreed. “There’s no reason to have drawn this out if he wasn’t planning a strike.”

“What precautions have you taken?”

“I’ve got surveillance on my apartment round the clock. I’ve also put the word out on the street that Tony no longer works for you and isn’t under your protection. On top of that, I’ve offered a substantial reward for any information that leads to his capture.” Levi grimaced in apology. “I took the liberty of offering the reward. I didn’t think you’d mind. If you do, I’ll pay it.”

“No, of course I don’t mind.” Jonas waved a hand. “Go on.”

“The men I’ve called in to watch my apartment are the best in their field. They’ll nab Tony if he shows up there. I’ve also doubled the guards here on the estate grounds and in the house.” Jonas’s eyebrows rose, but Levi wasn’t finished. “And I’ve installed cameras and motion sensors on the perimeter wall in case he tried to climb over it.”

He crossed to the decanters on the hutch in the corner and poured two glasses of burgundy. Inhaling the heady bouquet, he handed one to Jonas and sipped his own. “I’ve tried to think of everything he could possibly do, but I still feel like I’m missing something major.” Puffing out his cheeks, he rubbed at the tension in the back of his neck. Then with a groan of frustration, he sank into a chair by the desk. “You said Tony was smart. So if he doesn’t think he can beat me in hand-to-hand, he’ll probably try something clever. And since I don’t know what it’ll be, I’m afraid I won’t be prepared when it happens.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know what else we can do.” Levi stared at the blood-red liquid in his glass, struggling to translate his thoughts into words. “I’m trained for paramilitary, Jonas, not head games. If Tony goes in for something in that arena, I’ll need help. He’s been in-country long enough to get to Salt Lake City, so whatever he’s going to try, it’ll be soon.”

“I have a friend who’s a retired psychiatrist,” Jonas said. “He’s known Tony since he was a teenager and he might be able to tell you what he’ll try. I’ll call him now, explain things, and set up an appointment for you to see him if you think it’ll help.”

Levi nearly choked on his wine. “A psychiatrist?” Then again, what did he have to lose? “On second thought, that’s a good idea.”

Jonas made the call. “He’ll see you at his home at eight in the morning,” he said when he hung up the phone. He scribbled an address on a Post-It and handed it across the desk.

“I’ll be there,” Levi assured him. “If Tony’s going to try something sneaky, I’ll do whatever it takes to outsmart him.”

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