by Seeley James
Scrolling ahead on the video, I came to the woman in the towel. I paused it when I heard someone at my suite’s door. My Glock found its way into my hand and slid low by my hip. Habit.
Jenny waltzed in with Rafael Tum, Gu Peng, Danny, Fiona-the-blonde, a guy named Mark and another guy whose name I didn’t know.
Peng rested on her walking stick in the foyer and looked around the expensive suite.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said when her gaze fell to me. “You’re not paying for it. It’s a gift from Pia Sabel.”
Peng held my gaze without saying anything. Which was a bit unnerving and made me regret my outburst.
Rafael did that thing where he dropped into a cross-legged position. This time, he was on the coffee table, just to my right. He was the kind of old man who could get comfortable on broken glass. He pointed at the screen. “Cherry.”
He was right—the woman in the towel was his niece. I hadn’t recognized her earlier because, last time I saw her, she’d had a layer of archeologist-dirt on her. Even after we’d cleaned up in El Remate, she still looked more like a camper from the back woods than a wealthy Winnetka housewife.
The others swarmed around the couch to look at the screen. I scrolled forward and back. We had only a few seconds of her crossing the visible space. It appeared she had showered and was going to change. Her eyes were downcast at something below her waist, a yard or two in front of her.
I pulled up the 3D rendering of the room. My view of Cherry’s room was an even narrower slice than the master bedroom, but it was clearly another bedroom. From where she stood, she was looking at the foot of the bed where a hope chest or a sitting bench appeared to be. Clothes laid out for her?
“We have to go in,” Danny said. He and Fiona and the other guys looked like recent college grads. Early-twenties at best.
“We?” I asked.
“Yes, we,” Danny snapped. He pointed at his cadets. “We trained for this. We know what we’re doing.”
“Is that how you wound up in police custody?”
“That was an accident.” He sounded like a kid pleading its-not-my-fault. “We pushed too far, that’s all.”
“It was a colossal failure to follow orders. You were lucky they didn’t shoot you on sight. They were—”
Rafael rose on the coffee table, his hands rising straight out from his sides. Our attention went to him.
“Might we turn the conversation to helping Cherry?” he asked.
“I have a plan.” I used my Master Sergeant voice. Everyone turned to me. “It involves me and one other person in a boat. No one else.”
“We’ve been there,” Fiona pushed up to me. “Up close. Not from three hundred yards away.”
“How many guards were on duty?” I asked. “Were you able to count them from the back seat of the squad car?”
She whimpered away.
“I don’t need to listen to this,” Danny said. “We found a weakness in their defense. We have a plan too.”
Jenny moved to my side and put her hand on my back. To the others, it looked supportive. To me, it felt like she wanted me to calm down and reconsider. Her yin wanted to balance my yang. Or whatever. She was right though; reason was better than escalation. She made me realize that Danny was acting out after being humiliated by Griffith’s security.
“Look,” I said. I backed up the video to the overhead view and pointed at the screen. “You guys are thinking, ‘swashbuckling rescue, what fun.’ In your minds, you’ll take down the guards, storm the castle, rescue the princess—just like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible XXVII. Well, no matter how you fantasize the scenario, reality defines your fate. In the real world, this place was built to repel a ground assault.”
I pointed at the free-standing walls. “See these four-foot-thick stone walls? That’s anti-tank armor. If the FBI served a search warrant with a bulldozer, they wouldn’t get in before the servers were wiped clean and the documents shredded. Think you can sneak in on foot? This is where their guards wait for people. These walls turn the walkway into the guard’s shooting gallery. They have the same arrangement facing the beach. The windows on both floors are bulletproof. You’ll need a howitzer to breach the home. So tell me, Rambo, how are you planning to get in the building?”
Danny’s eyes fell to the carpet.
“He’s right,” Mark said. “That is a fortress.”
Rafael, still standing on the coffee table, jumped down and turned to me. “Perhaps you could use some help from these energetic young people. Their intentions are noble.”
Only because he was a likable old man did I consider his request. They could provide a diversion. Maybe blow up the service house next door. Keep the guards busy putting out a fire. But the guards were professionals. Before they put the fire out, they would eliminate the threat. Danny and his squad would die in seconds.
Or, I could let Danny do whatever he wanted. The security team would be exhausted after playing soccer with Danny’s head. When they took their victory break, their defenses would be at an all-time low.
Nah. My mean streak didn’t extend to using the young for cannon fodder.
I patted Rafael’s shoulder and shook my head.
“Depends on how you want your niece to come back: riddled with bullets, decapitated, or cremated?” I pointed at the roof of the house. “A smokestack like that on a private residence? That’s the kind you find at a crematorium. What are they burning?”
Rafael paled as his imagination drew a blank on alternative uses.
Peng crossed to me. “How you plan get in?”
“The easy way,” I said.
CHAPTER 19
I refused to tell them my plan. I couldn’t. I didn’t have one. Just a concept. But I made it sound like I didn’t trust them. And that gained Rafael’s blessing. Since it was his niece I was rescuing, no one could argue. Peng told her people to stand down with a glance. She gestured them toward the door.
Whether he was acting out or just pissed, Danny wanted to prove himself. He stepped in front of me. “The Knights have been our enemy for two thousand years. We’ve studied them and trained to fight them. You’re not one of us. You have no idea what you’re up against.”
I stood still.
He turned to Peng. “Why listen to him? He’s not in the Brotherhood.”
Peng lowered her eyes.
Jenny slipped between Danny and me. “Why listen to him? He raided his first fortress back when you were playing with GI Joes. He took on an army of terrorists in Denmark, and vigilantes who were out to kill my mother in Washington, and a rogue faction of the Russian Army in Latvia. He’s killed more men than you’ve ever met—”
“He gets the picture,” I said. My arm gently pushed her aside. If she started listing the dead, I could end up sounding more like a serial killer and less like a hero.
Reason didn’t work on Danny. His anger exploded. He rushed me using a standard Krav Maga technique. What goes well on a mat in a gym sometimes goes well in real life.
Not this time. His first encounter with a real street fighter was over before he knew it. As he lunged, I arced my arm inside his closest shoulder, my hand rising past his neck. From there, I extended my forearm, forcing his head to the left. Where your head goes, your body follows. Redirected, his momentum carried him over my hip. He rolled off the couch and landed on the floor.
“The US Army teaches Combatives in Basic Training,” I told him, aiming a finger-pistol at him. “It’s about disabling, not killing. We have 9 mils for that. So do Griffith’s men.”
The look in his eye told me he was about to jump up and try again. As he lunged for me, I put him in a headlock.
I pressed my thumb hard into his atlas bone. It’s the one that connects the spine to the skull. I said, “That bone is the weakest link in your spinal column. One directed blow there and you’ll never move an arm or leg again. I learned that one at Ranger School—after Basic Training.”
I spun him around, pushed him t
hree feet away, and extended a hand as a peace offering. He stared at me with hatred.
As he panted, I looked for a way out. I said, “I admire your energy. If I had time to work on something, I’d include you. But I don’t.”
“Give me more detail about your plan and we’ll take care of Cherry.” Danny sneered. “You can go back to doing whatever it is you do.”
“Listen, kid,” I said. “There isn’t a magic plan. It’s a series of options and opportunities. A thousand of them. One wrong choice and you come home in a box.”
Peng tugged his arm. Danny glanced at his friends. Their shoulders drooped as they turned toward the door and filed out.
Rafael hung back, holding the door for the others. He gave me a soulful look, his eyes asking if I’d bring Cherry back.
I asked, “When are you going to tell me what’s in my alabaster box?”
“Bring her home,” he said. “I beg of you.”
He turned and walked out.
The instant the door clacked shut, Jenny said, “What the hell is wrong with you? Is that how you treat people?”
“Danny?” I faced her, a little surprised by the heat in her delivery. “He’s young, impatient, and untrained.”
“So were you once.” She stuck out her jaw. “They want to help, to feel useful. You could give them something. You didn’t need to humiliate Danny like that.”
“As a Navy officer, did you have to write letters home to grieving parents? Are you ready to write a letter to Danny’s mom that says, ‘We gave him a role in a dangerous mission when we knew he was ill-prepared and untrained?’”
“There are plenty of things they could do that would keep him out of danger.”
“Like what?”
She flopped her arms. “I don’t know. Keep watch at the street. Check the beach for patrols.”
“Did you notice how quickly the cops arrived when Danny got caught? Those guys didn’t come from the station. They came from the open end of the cul-de-sac. What does that tell you?”
She crossed her arms and huffed without lightening her glare. “The cops are part of his security team.”
“He’s a big deal to the locals. They’re not going to let a stranger wander the hood with eyes on Griffith’s front gate.”
“Well, think of something. Get creative.”
“No. It’s not a discussion.”
“Since when do you get to decide?” She hurled her questions at me. “Aren’t we a partnership? Shouldn’t we work things out together?”
“What?” I felt the lid on my anger management system fly off. “We don’t ‘work things out’ when we’re talking about getting innocent people arrested or killed. I’m the only person in the room who has actual combat experience. The Brothers have no discipline and don’t follow orders.”
“You just want to be the lone hero again. That’s why it’s always you and nobody else.”
“Maybe I’m sick of being shoved out into the cold, alone.” I tried to keep my voice down. “There’s nothing I’d love more than to go in there with a Ranger platoon. I’d settle for SEALs. If I could, I’d bring Pia Sabel and the old crew. But those aren’t options. It comes down to me because of the odds. If Danny tries it there’s a hundred percent chance he will die or wind up in jail. If I go in there, there’s a fifty-fifty chance I can grab Cherry and get to the dock. There are no other viable options. I’m the only one who can do it.”
“Why do it at all then?” she barked.
“He who can, must.”
“What?”
“When you’re the only one who can, you must.” I tried to exhale some of my anger. “I’m not discussing it anymore.”
“Shutting down?” Her nostrils flared. “That’s your answer? Isn’t that what ended your decorated military career?”
“Don’t you dare bring up my service record.” I found myself shaking a finger at her. “You don’t know anything about it.”
“My mother wouldn’t tell me why she was against our engagement. So I asked Pia. She told me everything.”
She may as well have hit me with a water cannon. I staggered back a couple steps. Air wouldn’t fill my lungs. I couldn’t speak.
Ms. Sabel shared my psychiatric evals with her? I had trusted Ms. Sabel with that story. She shared her problems with me. We were like siblings. We were honest about everything. She even tried to believe in Mercury. It didn’t go well, but she tried. How could she violate that trust without asking me first?
Mercury patted my shoulder. Dude, women talk about everything.
I said, Could you give me a minute? I don’t want to talk to you right now.
Mercury said, Could you imagine if men were like that? Doing stuff like sharing their feelings instead of going violent? Ew, yuck.
I said, Just go away.
Mercury said, There’d never be another war. And then where would the world be? B-O-R-I-N-G.
I said, My fiancé just told me she knows I’m a stark raving lunatic. The last thing I need is a mythical god chatting in my ear.
Mercury said, And that’s where you’d be dead wrong, homes. This is your opportunity. Now is the perfect time to tell her the Dii Consentes has blessed your planned nuptials. We’re looking forward to having her in the family. G’on now, tell her.
Jenny’s head was tilted. “Is it true? You have psychotic episodes?”
“Is that what Ms. Sabel told you?”
“That was my mother’s take.” She bit her thumb. “When I asked Pia, she told me something really crazy. Which was shocking because everyone knows she’s nuts.”
My mouth hung open. I couldn’t find words. After I dragged her mother through the desert, past armed patrols hunting her down, that’s the thanks I get? And Ms. Sabel? Who thought she was nuts? My mind reeled.
Mercury said, Oh, you be getting your first taste of ungrateful mortals and you’re hurt? Welcome to the world of the gods, brutha. Just this morning, a guy prayed for salvation when his car flipped through the air. Jesus grabbed the guy’s ankle. Landed him safely on a sand dune, saved his life. All the bastard could say was, “Whoa, totally rad.” But, whatcha expect from a stoner in Malibu?
“I’m one hundred percent sane.” I glared at Jenny. “And this is not a debate. My neck—my risk.”
“Not a debate?” She stamped her foot. “I’m asking you to consider something outside the box and you’re not even going to discuss it?”
How do you discuss whether some snot-nosed kid should live with a humiliation he’ll forget in a week or die at the hands of trained assassins? She was making the same mistake the Brotherhood was making: grossly underestimating the firepower prowling Griffith’s property?
Or was there something else going on with the Brotherhood? Why did Gu Peng stand there like a statue while Danny and I got physical? Was she giving him some kind of test? A rite of passage to strengthen the Brothers? Who the hell were they anyway? Danny’s explanation sounded like something not even Diana Gabaldon would make up.
Could I create a role for the Brotherhood to play? They had helped when the Knights attacked us at the hotel. And Danny had led me to an encampment through a bit of cunning. But his amateurish fiasco earlier in the afternoon was a huge liability. If he did something like that under fire, we could all die. No. Not worth it.
“I’ve considered it from every angle,” I said. “There is no role for the Brotherhood.”
Jenny tightened her lips. She snatched her jacket off the back of the chair and stormed out.
CHAPTER 20
Cherry took another look in the full-length mirror. Alexander McQueen sure knew how to make a tasteful-yet-sexy minidress. Black with white flowers embroidered on the right, it flowed like water when she twisted. She looked great. The pumps were a perfect match. And everything fit like a glove. Whoever “The Guardian” was, he knew how to pamper women.
She took a deep breath. That wouldn’t change anything.
Captain Amanow knocked on her door. He offered a hand,
which she refused. Unfazed, he escorted her down the grand staircase and showed her to the drawing room. At the far end, a fire roared in front of two wingbacks. A pair of legs extended from one, the owner’s face remained obscured by the chair back. Amanow stopped ten feet away. Cherry marched forward.
The Guardian rose and greeted her with outstretched arms. He said, “My goodness, Cherry, you’re even more beautiful tonight than you were at your debutante ball.”
She remembered Joe Griffith from that horrid night. He was one of the many old men leering at her barely concealed breasts while her shoulders froze in the white strapless ball gown. It was the night the rift first opened between Cherry and her mother.
She scoffed. “I should’ve recognized your foul stench when I first arrived.”
“And still every bit as charming.” He looked beyond her shoulder. “You may go now, Captain.”
Amanow said, “I thought it best—”
“You’re done for the day,” Griffith snapped. “I’ll call if you’re needed.”
She glanced back in time to see Amanow steaming in anger. The man gave a deep bow from which he rose and glared at Griffith and retreated and closed the double doors behind him.
She faced Griffith. “You keep a tight leash on your assassins.”
Griffith looked her over slowly. “Aperitif? Of course you will. Gimlets, I think.”
He pressed a button on the side table and ordered, then he waved a hand at the chair facing his.
Cherry thought about spitting on him but wanted to know where all his subterfuge led. She took the chair. “Are you going to explain why you’ve not turned Amanow over to the police?”
“What on earth for, dear girl?”
“Girl? Really? Remind me—what century is this?”
“Ah, yes. He told me you held him responsible for the murders Jacob Stearne committed. You know about—”
“Don’t try to gaslight me. I was there when Amanow arrived. Uncle Rafael warned me the Knights of Mithras would come. I saw them rounding up everyone at gunpoint. I was terrified. If Jacob Stearne killed those people, why did Amanow let him? He had forty armed men in that camp.”
