by Jo Davis
He spotted the man’s car next to a copse of trees and breathed a sigh of relief. How the fool had gotten out of Kosta’s building in one piece was a mystery. Throwing his own vehicle in park, he strode to where the man paced, body strung taut as a bow.
“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” he shouted, grabbing Lan and shaking him hard.
“I didn’t know what else to do! I wanted a confession and I got it, right?” His turquoise eyes were wide.
“Not exactly, because he didn’t actually admit anything. But what you got was damning. It’ll probably be good enough.”
“Probably? Shit, I just risked my neck for nothing?”
“No, I didn’t say that. Listen, the main thing is to get you out of here ASAP to someplace safe. I’ve got clearance to send you to our compound until Dietz and his men are either brought in or terminated. You’ll be safe there.”
Lan paced a few steps from his car and turned—just as a dozen or so armed men in fatigues burst from the trees.
“Get out of here,” Blaze shouted, going for the gun under his shirt.
A pop sounded, and another. The bullets caught him in the shoulder and leg, flung him backward. The impact took him down, but he didn’t feel the burn. He knew only that he wasn’t going to make it, and Lan had to get out of here.
Pushing to his hands and knees, he raised his arm and popped off a few shots. Had the satisfaction of seeing two men go down before dizziness overtook him and he slumped to the ground.
God, this was it for him. He prayed they’d kill him quickly instead of taking him to Dietz.
“You bastards!” Lan screamed, dropping to his side. “Why?”
The men surrounded them both, laughing and taunting. With his cheek pressed against the earth, Blaze had a great view of their boots as they began kicking him in the ribs. Grunting, he curled into the fetal position, but it was no use. He couldn’t protect himself from the relentless blows. One man delivered a hard kick to his head, and the world spun crazily.
He heard Lan yelling and wondered what they were doing to him. Wished he could help.
Then oblivion took him, and he knew nothing more.
Sixteen
Still no answer. Emma was in a state of near-panic, desperate to reach him.
“Are you sure we’re on the right road?” she called to Willis.
“I’m sure. We’ve got to approach with caution, though. I’m going to park in the trees about a mile from his meeting point. Then we’ll walk it.”
“That will take too long,” she protested.
“We don’t have a choice. You want to get caught?”
She clamped her lips shut before she became a hindrance and they left her behind, though it wasn’t easy. After they left the van in a relatively secluded spot, they struck out through the woods toward the parking lot where Blaze should’ve met Lan.
When they were halfway there, the noise of several vehicles coming down the road toward them broke the stillness.
“Get down,” Ozzie yelled.
They dove for cover. As the vehicles passed, Emma chanced a peek, and her pulse stuttered. “Military style,” she said, voice shaking. “Oz, they’ve got them.”
“We don’t know that for sure.” After the last one was gone, he rose. “Let’s go.”
They hurried now, pushing on almost at a dead run. When they broke through the trees, the sight of two abandoned vehicles brought them up short.
As did the pool of blood next to Blaze’s car.
“Dammit, no,” Ozzie yelled to the heavens.
“Oh, God. We’re too late.” Dietz had them. “But Blaze has on a camera, and a tracking device, right?”
Willis answered grimly. “Yeah, let’s just hope Dietz’s men don’t think to look for it until we lock down their location. We need to get back and call in reinforcements.”
“I already did,” she confessed. “Had a bad feeling and called Bastian right after Blaze left to come here.”
“Good girl,” Ozzie praised. “You should’ve gotten clearance from us, but I’m glad you didn’t, this once. I would’ve told you to wait.”
They’d just started back for their van when they heard an engine coming up the road. The car was moving fast. They hurried for cover again, just in time to see a snazzy sports car slide to a stop beside the other two vehicles. To Emma’s surprise, Nicole jumped from her car, screaming.
“Lan? Lan!” She looked into both of the other cars and then spun around, scanning the trees frantically. “Lan!”
Ozzie glanced between her and Willis. “What the hell?”
“Let’s find out.” Emma stepped from the trees and called out softly. “Nicole? What are you doing here?”
The woman spun, pulling a gun from her jacket. It was tough to say which of them was more shocked. Emma held up her hands as though soothing a crazy person.
“Okay, whatever your involvement in all this is, we can work out a deal. You don’t have to go to prison for something you didn’t do. How long have you been working for Dietz?”
Nicole stared at them, momentarily stunned, then lowered her weapon. “I’m not working for that scumbag! I’m trying to put him away.”
“Come again?”
Sticking the weapon back into a holster in her coat, she brought forth a small black wallet-sized folder and flipped it open.
“Nicole Ventura, FBI.” She flipped it closed again and angrily swiped at a tear that had escaped to roll down her cheek. “It seems we have a lot more in common than we thought. We both want to put away the asshole who took our men.”
“Does Lan know you’re a Fed?” she asked gently.
“No. After I knew he was innocent, I still couldn’t tell him who I really am. The fact that I fell in love with him made it ten times harder. I’m not sure he’ll forgive me.”
“I’m sure he will, but first we have to find him. We’ve got backup coming, and in the meantime we’ll tell you what we can about who we are.”
Nicole frowned. “The FBI has jurisdiction in this case.”
“Um, not really. Our orders come from the president.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Black ops?”
“Something like that.”
“Fuck me.”
“Yeah. You with us?”
“Try to keep me out of it and see what happens.”
She wouldn’t dare. Shoving down her fear of what was happening to her lover, Emma accompanied her sad little band to the van.
And prayed Bastian would arrive soon.
Blaze came awake to a dank, musky odor. To the smell of death and decay. Lying on a hard surface, his shoulder and leg killing him. Unbearable.
He tried to move his arms and legs, to raise his head. The attempt promptly made him sick, and waves of misery lapped over him. Was there a bone they hadn’t broken? If so, he had no doubt they’d find it.
Heavy footsteps approached. This is how I measure the remaining hours of my life. By the staccato rhythm of boots on stone. One heartbeat at a time.
A jangle of keys turned in a lock, and then the metallic grate of a door slid open. A holding cell, he realized. Dietz must’ve found a new home for his legion of monsters to operate from. Where he was being kept was anyone’s guess.
He pried his eyes open, then wished he hadn’t. Robert Dietz strolled into the cell with three men on his heels. Those fucking Liberation bastards. In a far corner of the dim space, a fire had been built, adding to the torrid atmosphere in the room. Something had been placed in the flames. He didn’t want to know what.
“Strap him to the table,” Dietz ordered.
The three goons yanked him off the floor, lifted him, and dropped him onto a large wooden picnic table. He gritted his teeth against crying out. He was stripped to the waist, his socks and boots removed, arms and legs spread and tied down with rope. His shoulder and leg had been wrapped, he noted. Probably to keep him from bleeding to death while they had their fun.
Dietz walked to the fire
while the others stepped away. This was the boss’s show, and they wanted as little part of it as possible, from their wary expressions. Blaze couldn’t see what he was doing, but the sonofabitch took his sweet time. Stoking his fear.
“Where’s Lan?” he croaked.
“Waiting his turn to experience what happens to those who cross me.” Dietz came to stand by his feet. In his hand was a metal rod, the tip bloodred. “The bottom of the foot is a particularly sensitive area, among many. Did you know that? Scream for me, Agent Kelly.”
Blaze glared straight into the traitor’s cold eyes, showing all of his hatred and defiance. He would not give him the satisfaction.
White-hot lightning seared his flesh, scorched every nerve ending. Clamping his lips together, he threw back his head and strained against the ropes. Breathing hard through his nose, he endured without a sound through the pain in one foot. By the second, he was making animal sounds of pain in his throat.
The hideous torture took on the quality of his nightmares, and as he drifted from himself he thought, this isn’t real.
He didn’t scream once.
But he dreamed of a blond angel holding him in his arms, kissing away the pain.
Emma couldn’t cry. Not yet.
Not when there was hope that Blaze could still be alive.
And if she lost it, Bastian would never allow her to fly out with the rest of his operatives. He was pacing now in the huge hangar where everyone had assembled, about to start the briefing. The tall blond was grim, not having much to smile about except that Michael would likely survive, and they had a bead on Blaze’s location.
With any luck, the location of the weapon as well.
Once the group was quiet, Bastian stood before them and ran through the particulars. “We’ve got a signal from Agent Kelly’s tracking chip, which hasn’t moved for the past several hours. The location is marked and locked down, and we fully believe this to be the site of the actual Liberation compound where the weapon is being kept.”
He paused and waited for the excited murmurs to fade.
“We’ve got twenty-four agents of our own, including me and one who’s FBI—Agent Ventura—who was undercover and will accompany us. Does anyone have a problem with that?”
“The FBI might, sir,” one young agent piped up.
“Do I look like I give a flying rat’s ass what the FBI does or does not like, especially since we don’t officially exist?”
The agent reddened. “No, sir.”
Dismissing him, Bastian went on. “We have six stealth helicopters outside, which we’ll bring in low and quiet. We’ll all be dropped in a landing zone at a safe distance from the Liberation compound and hike it. Once there, we’ll split off into the teams we’ve formed and take the compound by whatever force is necessary. Should you find the weapon, get on the radio for backup, secure the fucking thing, and defend it with your life. Is that clear?”
A chorus of shouts in the affirmative echoed in the vast hangar, and Bastian nodded. “One more thing—let’s come back safe.”
Head high, Emma walked out with Ozzie and Nicole, who were on her team.
Nobody was going to stop her from bringing home her man.
His body burned. From the inside out.
He stretched, groaning, and took stock. They’d beaten the living shit out of him and burned his feet. But outside of that and the bullet wounds, he thought maybe he had only a couple of cracked ribs, not multiple broken bones, as he’d initially believed. He could move, even if it hurt.
And if he could move, he could fight. Given the chance.
The cell door scraped open again, and Dietz strode inside with two of his men. Without a word, they hauled him upright and dragged him from the cell, forcing him to stumble along on blistered feet. He ignored the screaming pain and shut out everything except making note of where they were going.
They stopped outside a big metal structure that looked like a barn, with double-wide doors fit for a semi to drive through. Dietz studied Blaze for a long moment, and just when it seemed he’d speak, two more men appeared, shoving Lan ahead of them.
Blaze’s knees went weak with relief, however temporary. His friend was alive, and for all his cuts and bruises, nothing else mattered right now. Their gazes held, and Lan tried to smile despite his swollen lip.
Dietz got to the point. “It occurred to me that no man should die for a cause without seeing what he’s fighting for. Especially this cause. Gentlemen.” He waved his men on, and they hustled their captives through the door and into the warehouse.
“Oh my God,” Lan breathed.
Blaze could only stare. There before them, on a platform mounted on a flatbed eighteen-wheeler, was the weapon—a bomb.
The thing was a metallic cylinder painted a plain gray and had the American flag proudly displayed on its side. The bomb was as big as a tank on a gasoline truck, and a billion times more deadly.
“You can’t know true power until you stand in its shadow,” Dietz said reverently. “You can’t understand why several nations would stand in line to possess it until you see. Do you get it? This isn’t just a bomb, isn’t just death. This is the annihilation of all living things, bound in a single innocuous container. Mankind, turned on itself like a cannibal. Our government created a monster, and now it must pay.”
Blaze stared at the cylinder, shaken in body and soul. In a twisted way, he did get what Dietz was saying—you reap what you sow. But innocent people didn’t deserve death and destruction.
“You’re bat-shit crazy, you know that?” He swayed on his aching feet, dizzy. He hurt and he’d lost a lot of blood. But if he held on a bit longer, Bastian would send in the troops and clean house. He had faith.
Dietz laughed. “Perhaps. But I’m the crazy bastard with the bomb and the money. Survival of the fittest since the dawn of time.” He flicked a hand at his men. “Tie them up and leave them in here to enjoy the view and think of the day when this baby will be dropped on the East Coast. Not that either of you will be alive to see it.”
The men dragged them over to the truck and tied them to the back, then left them to contemplate their fate.
“It’s weird being tied to this thing, and scary,” Lan said in a tired voice.
“That’s what he’s counting on. The beating and torture was something he tired of fast enough. Dietz prefers mind games, when he plays games at all.”
“Yeah, that’s coming through pretty clear.”
“My team is coming, my friend. Don’t worry.” Of this he was positive.
“Yes, but will they arrive in time?”
That he couldn’t answer. He could only hope he got to see Emma again this side of heaven.
Emma and her team spoke when necessary, voices quiet, pushing through the trees as fast as they dared. Wouldn’t do to stumble across a booby trap or a guard. They hunted a vile monster, deadlier than any poisonous snake to be found here, because their enemy violated the most basic law of nature.
Dietz was a discriminate killer, taking life because it suited his wants and desires. In his mind, this power made him more than other men. The lord of his own sick universe.
But not for much longer.
They reached the walls of the compound just as the fingers of sunset reached across the sky. Pulling her gun, Emma looked to Ozzie for direction. He halted them, and they listened. Watched.
The place was too quiet and still. Guards were posted near the buildings, but it was as if they were all waiting for something.
“What the hell’s going on?” Ozzie asked, more to himself. He waved to team three, gesturing for them to continue. They were getting into position, encircling the compound.
Just then, more men drifted from the building, talking and laughing. They walked over to a grassy area and milled around for—what? A meeting of some sort?
Then two men were dragged from a big warehouse-type building, and she gasped in recognition. Blaze and Lan. Her confusion morphed to understanding when they were
brought into the grassy area and forced to their knees amid the jeers of the soldiers around them.
“Ozzie,” she choked.
“Shh. Be ready to move, and pick off the ones closest to Kelly and Hart,” he ordered them.
Her horrified gaze met Nicole’s in understanding. The men they loved were about to be executed.
Blaze hit his knees beside Lan, gut churning in helpless rage. So this is how it ended? Shot like a dog, as if his life meant nothing?
“I’m so sorry, Lan,” he whispered.
“Not your fault,” his new friend said bravely. “They were going to kill me, anyway. At least we’re not dying alone.”
“Yes, there is that.”
He’d always heard that a person’s life flashes before his eyes when he faces death, but he found it to be untrue. His mind was strangely blank of everything except Emma and losing her so soon. Or rather, her losing him. But she was a strong woman, and she’d go on. Perhaps J.C. would come running to soothe her battered heart? He didn’t wish to delve into that too much.
Dietz would pay for everything he’d done. He had to believe that, or he’d give in to despair.
His enemy came to stand beside him, toting an M16 and staring down at him, eyes so devoid of emotion his blood froze. “Have you anything to say?”
“Yeah. Fuck you.” He spat on the bastard’s shoes, and beside him, Lan snorted. Last acts of defiance and all that.
“Heartfelt, but not terribly original. Good-bye, agent.”
Cold steel kissed his temple.
Emma, I love you.
Terror seized Emma’s heart as Dietz strode to the two kneeling men carrying a big automatic weapon. He and Blaze exchanged few words. Blaze spat on Dietz’s boots.
“Get ready to move!” a voice barked into Ozzie’s radio.
“We’re ready!”
Dietz loomed over Blaze.
Lowered the barrel of the weapon to his head.
