MIDNIGHT QUEST: A Short 'Men of Midnight' Novel (21 page)

The man immediately stepped forward, inside Jacko’s personal space, and put a hand on Jacko’s shoulder. It was a sign of Jacko’s stupefaction that he didn’t knock that hand off. Nobody touched him that wasn’t Lauren or a really good friend. But this hand felt…friendly.

Clearly Jacko was insane.

The man squeezed his shoulder. He had strong hands and it was a good thing Jacko had strong shoulders.

He stared straight into Jacko’s eyes, light gray eyes set in a face just like his own. There was that whooshing sound in his head again.

“Son, you have to believe me when I say I had no idea you existed. When I got that call from Pendleton, it nearly buckled my knees.” The man even sounded like Jacko. Voice deep, without Jacko’s slight Texas twang.

“Pendleton?” Jacko’s voice came out hoarse.

“Yeah, after you went to visit him in the home. I think the clouds in his head parted and he got in touch with me.”

“Eyes,” Jacko whispered, dazed. “He kept talking about my eyes. How they’d changed. He thought—he thought I was you.”

“He did. He’d taken medication that morning that confused him. When it wore off, he realized he’d seen
you.
He’d kept your existence from me. He had his reasons and I’ll explain them, but right now, I need to warn you that you’re in trouble.”

Jacko blinked. He felt slow, muscles mired in molasses, most of him numb. He was never this way in the battlefield. If he were, he’d be dead a thousand times over. But right now he was finding it hard to react while his mind was spinning.

“Trouble?” he repeated. It was hard enough believing what was right in front of his eyes, let alone that this man had brought trouble with him.

Trouble.

Lauren and their child were in the house.

Jacko lost that sense of shock and focused. “Who are you and why am I in trouble?” He pointed a thumb at the house. “My fiancée is in there. Tell me right now if she’s in danger.”

“I think you know who I am.” The man waved at his face. “Who I am—what I am to you…is clear. All you have to do is look at us. My name is Dante Jimenez, I’m DEA, and thirty-five years ago I was stationed undercover in Cross, Texas.”

“You met Sara Jackman,” Jacko said tightly. “Met” meaning fucked.

Jimenez nodded sharply. “I did. It was a one-night stand. And I’m sorry to say I barely remember her and left soon after. But what you have to know now, Morton—”

“Jacko,” he interrupted.

“Jacko.” For the first time a faint smile crossed the man’s features. “Better than Morton. What you have to know right now is that your vehicle was tracked.”

“The fuck? My SUV has a company transponder. I turned it off.”

“Not a transponder.” Jimenez held his hand out, palm up. Jacko picked up the cheap plastic device with a magnet on one side. The ASI transponder was built into the vehicle. This was something else entirely.

“A tracking device.”

“Yeah.”

Jacko looked up and met those pale gray eyes. “Since when?”

“Since the sheriff’s office in Cross. Guy’s on the take, and he’ll be taking from enemies of mine. What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. Not even my full name.”

“Good. But he knows where you are now.”

“Who? Who is this we’re talking about? The sheriff?”

“No. Constable’s a clown.” Jimenez’s face tightened. “I’m talking about a very dangerous man, son. And he’ll be on his way with a team of shooters. So let’s get inside and make plans.”

They came in through the door and for just a second, Lauren had trouble distinguishing between the two. Then her brain unscrambled them. Jacko—shaved head, dark eyes. The other man—close-cropped, steel-wool gray hair, eerie gray eyes. But they looked that similar to each other.

First Jacko then the other man came in, bringing with them the chill night air and about a ton of testosterone.

Jacko walked over to her, put his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead. He turned her slightly. “Honey, this is Dante Jimenez. He’s—”

“His dad. I’m Jacko’s dad.” Jimenez stuck out his big hand and Lauren stared at it. It was exactly like Jacko’s hand—big and dark, same size, same shape. It was uncanny. She took the hand gingerly, felt him squeeze gently, then he let her hand go.

“I’m Lauren. Nice to meet you.” The words came out automatically, the result of relentless maternal training in etiquette. But her head was whirling.
Was
it nice to meet him? What was he doing here? Why had Jimenez stayed away from Jacko all his life?

Jacko kept his big arm around her waist. He stared at…his father. How odd those words sounded in her head. “Lauren’s pregnant. We’re expecting a child.” His face was hard, the words said harshly, as if Jimenez might somehow object.

The opposite happened. Jimenez’s face melted. There was no other word for it. His face softened, eyes wide, jaw slightly dropped. “Oh God,” he breathed. “A grandchild.” He looked to one side for a moment, blinking, then turned back. “I never thought to have a son. And now a grandchild on the way. It’s—it’s almost too much.” He narrowed his eyes. “We have to protect your family, son. The man who ordered the transponder? He will stop at nothing to hurt you, hurt Lauren, to get back at me.”

Lauren froze, her hand going instinctively to her belly. “Who’s going to hurt me?” she asked shakily.

Jacko’s arm tightened. “No one. No one’s going to hurt you, honey. Not while I’m alive.”

“And not while I’m alive, either,” Jimenez answered, and his expression was the exact same expression as Jacko’s. Tight and grim. He switched his gaze to Jacko. “The enemy is Carlos Villalongo, son of the head of the Laredo cartel. I’m DEA and I put his father away. He died in prison. I’ve been after the cartel my entire career, and he just found out that you’re my son. We intercepted a conversation. He wants to use you as leverage to get to me, but that’s not going to happen. We need to secure Lauren and then we need to arm up and strategize. I have some men coming.”

“Who?” Jacko sounded suspicious. “And how am I supposed to tell the bad guys from the good guys?”

“The good guys will be wearing DEA blazers. And they’ll be here in—” He held a finger up as a cell phone buzzed. “Yeah, Jimenez. Give me some good news.” He listened, eyes narrowed. “Fuck. You tracking Villalongo? When?”

Jacko dropped his arm around her waist and stepped up to Jimenez. He grabbed a fistful of jacket and got right into his face. “Goddammit, you tell me right now what’s going on, who’s threatening Lauren, or I swear to God I’ll hurt you.”

Jimenez made no attempt to defend himself. “I hear you. The thing is, we don’t have much time. My men are stuck in a snowstorm and are contacting local DEA agents, but they will have to bring them up to speed. The first thing I need to know, is there somewhere we can put Lauren where she’ll be safe and can you call in any members of your security team? I googled your company on the way over and it looks like you’ve got some good men there. Can you call on them?”

Jacko released Jimenez’s jacket and dug out his cell. He spoke, keeping his eyes on Jimenez. “Yo. Code red here. You and Joe back yet, because I’ve got a…DEA agent who says a cartel boss named Villalongo is coming here. Can you get Felicity to do some research?” So he was talking to Metal. “I need Lauren secured and I need boots on the ground here because the agent’s guys are stuck in a snowstorm. Come geared up. Yeah.” He cocked his head at Jimenez. “How much time we got?”

Jimenez’s mouth tightened. “They might have already landed at Portland International.”

“Fuck. Hear that? Yeah, come fast and get Lauren out of here.” He looked at Lauren. “My guys are still out of town, heading in. He says another thirty minutes at least. Maybe you should pack something, honey. Just in case.”

Her heart thudded in her chest.
Pack?
Was he expecting a siege? Was he expecting not to live through it? “Why pack? Oh God, Jacko, what’s happening? What’s coming for us?”

He folded her in his arms and she clung to him, to his massively strong body, breathing in his familiar scent. Their bodies clicked together like magnets and she knew exactly where to nestle against him

“You seem to have a good crew here,” Jimenez said to Jacko.

“The best,” Jacko answered over her head. Her cheek was against his chest and the familiar rumble of his voice calmed her. “And we have the best IT person in the world. She’s going to find out everything about Villalongo, down to the size of his briefs.”

Jimenez shook his head. “Should have had her with me these past years. He went underground, had a hell of a time tracking him, the fucker. Pardon me, ma’am.”

Lauren gave a shaky smile against Jacko’s chest. “If I understand things correctly, there are killers coming. There might be a shootout. Someone could die. I can take some crude language.”

“Jacko,” Jimenez said. “You got gear? I was only able to bring my service piece, four mags and this.” He thumped himself on the chest and a hollow sound erupted. “Body armor.”

Jacko nodded tightly. “I got gear.”

That was like Brangelina saying they had kids. Jacko had
gear
.

He pulled away and held her by the shoulders, away from him. “It’s okay. Metal’s coming. He’ll be here soon. You’ll be safe.”

Lauren hooked her hands on his strong forearms. “And you?” She hated that her voice quavered. But there wasn’t anything she could do. Deep in her heart, she’d always feared that Jacko had used up his nine lives as a Navy SEAL. That he was living on borrowed time. “I can’t lose you, Jacko.
We
can’t lose you.”

His eyes widened. He did that every single time she worried about him, as if it were impossible for someone to be worried about
him
.

“Don’t worry about me, honey. As long as I know you’re safe, I’ll be fine.” He shook his head a little, kissed her on the forehead and moved away.

He walked over to Jimenez—to the man who was his father. The two men stood quietly conferring, heads tilted toward each other. For a second it was like an optical illusion—like a man in a mirror instead of two men. Jacko led his father to what had once been a large hallway closet and was now a war room, bristling with weaponry. Some men had come one morning, lined the panels with metal, put in a fancy keypad next to the door, lined the door with something that looked like it should be shot into space, and then made the outer part of the door look like an ordinary wooden closet door. The keypad was disguised too. No one could tell from the outside that inside was enough weaponry to wage war on a small country.

Jacko disengaged the lock on the keypad, which slid open. He entered the code and then his thumbprint and the door unlocked with a snick. Jacko casually pushed the bank-vault quality door open, though Lauren knew for a fact that it weighed a ton. She’d barely been able to move it an inch.

The two men disappeared inside. She shifted so she could see what they were doing.

They were putting together an arsenal in record time, communicating in some kind of code made up of single words.

It was amazing. The two men had met only a few minutes ago and yet they were working together as if they’d been partners for years. She’d once watched Jacko, Metal and Joe gear up for what they called red team/blue team exercises, and the three men had worked like that. Quietly, efficiently and fast, according to some pre-set system of rules only they understood.

Inside of five minutes, Jacko and Jimenez were standing outside in the corridor with weapons stacked neatly beside them.

“Here. Arms up.” Lauren’s arms went up as Jacko fit a bulletproof vest over her head, pulling the tapes tight. He’d insisted on having one custom-made for her. He said he couldn’t stand the thought of having several of his own while she had none. She’d tried on one of his and it was like wearing a very heavy barrel. She couldn’t move with the damned thing on.

As he pressed the tapes together, she looked down at herself, the gray silk nightgown flowing out from the bottom edge. She touched her chest, ran her hand along the front of the vest. In about eight months, the vest wouldn’t fit over her belly. Did the manufacturers make pregnant-lady vests?

Probably not.

Jacko and Jimenez worked so well together, so seamlessly, that it was easy to miss the speed. Very little time had passed and they were ready to go to war.

It was terrifying. A deep shudder ripped through her, seeing the men moving so quietly and efficiently, readying to do battle. She’d never seen Jacko like this before. He was usually a serious man, though not quite as grim as when she’d first met him. But now it was like he was imbued with some special warrior mojo. He and Jimenez both looked strong, implacable, invincible.

But they weren’t. No one was invincible. Bullets respected no man. The people who were coming must be serious bad guys to evoke this kind of response.

Thank God she hadn’t known Jacko in his SEAL years, where every day he faced the worst kind of enemy.

Another shudder ran through her and she had to stiffen her knees to remain upright. Jacko noticed and reached to get her coat. He dropped it around her shoulders, mistaking her fear for him for cold. She wasn’t cold, she was scared.