by Carly Fall
Zach ran his hand over the cool leather again, thinking of the best way to answer.
“Zachary?”
Honesty would be the best policy, especially with Joe. If he’d been correct on his reading of the man, Joe probably already knew the answers to his own questions, and just wanted Zach to verify them.
“I was taken from the military and recruited into a clandestine operational section of the government titled Operation Janitor.”
“What a lovely, exciting name,” Joe mumbled.
“Yes, well, we had a lot to clean up.”
“Such as?”
A sigh escaped him. “Do you remember the president at the time?”
“That would have been seven years ago. Yes, Douglas Yager. A dirty man who seemed to think a president shouldn’t follow the laws of the nation he led. There was the bank scandal, then the one involving misuse of charity funds, and a hint of a sexual scandal story that never fully took flight, and that was before he was elected. I’m not quite sure how he got into office. In my opinion, he was a man without a shred of decency.”
“Yes. Thankfully, he only lasted one term. You’re correct on your assumption of him.”
“And what does that have to do with you?”
“Do you remember when his brother died?”
“Yes, a heart attack, if the papers were to be believed. I had my doubts.”
“Why did you doubt the heart attack?”
Joe had piqued his curiosity with that statement.
“Because, like the president, the man took what he wanted, thinking he walked above the laws. His proclivities toward sexual deviance were bad for the President’s image, and I’m sure the White House tried to persuade the press to drop their incessant digging into the man’s past and all those pesky lawsuits. Obviously, they were unsuccessful.”
He found Joe’s assessment of the situation interesting, and his respect for the man increased because of his powers of deduction and the obvious thought he’d given to the President and the circumstances surrounding the brother’s death. Most of America seemed to just accept what they read in the headlines, believing the press and what their government told them. In a nutshell, that seemed to be how the powers that be got away with everything they did. The American people were too busy in their own lives, too focused on trying to pay the bills and keep a roof over their heads. They simply didn’t have the time, nor the energy, to really contemplate those headlines or do their own research into the actual stories. And forget about asking any questions.
“Yes, they were. I happened to be there when Robert T. Yager had his heart attack, and you may say that I was the catalyst that set it off.”
A beat of heavy silence filled the air.
“I see. It’s becoming clearer now, Zachary. You were tasked to clean up that part of the President’s life.”
He nodded.
“And there were others who met their demise at your hand, I assume?”
“Yes. Over those two years, I killed four people, besides Robert Yager’s guards.”
“Do you have any regrets for your actions?”
He took a deep breath, giving a thought to the question before answering. All of his targets had been a waste of human life, as far as he was concerned. They didn’t deserve the air they breathed, nor the space they occupied on Earth. Well, all except one.
“No. My assignments were pretty cut and dried in my mind. They were horrible people. Besides Robert Yager, there was a Muslim fanatic in Africa who specialized in trading young Muslim woman into slavery or forcing them into prostitution. I saved many girls from a life of horror by putting two bullets in the man’s head. There was also a white supremacist who wanted to blow up a federal building in Sacramento, like Timothy McVeigh did in Oklahoma. It was the president’s belief that if we could get to these people and just eliminate them in a quiet way instead of having them go through the legal process, it would save everyone time, money, and heartache.”
“And what happened after the white supremacist met his demise? What about the fanatical Muslim?”
“It was like cutting the head off a serpent. The rest of their followers just seemed to disappear back into the fabric of society, lost without their leader. The men in Africa did eventually regroup.”
“But you saved lives in both cases.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You said there were four. Who was the fourth?”
The death of the fourth person had never sat well with him, but it had been a matter of self-preservation. “A reporter who got a little too close to Operation Janitor. My superiors hadn’t sanctioned his death, but I had been watching him for a while as I received some information that he was interested in the death of the President’s brother. I tailed him for a few months, and he interviewed some high-ranking officials. They had no idea about Operation Janitor, but what they did reveal could lead him directly to the President’s doorstep. I took the matter into my own hands when I had the opportunity.”
“Hmmm … interesting. We all do what we need to in order to survive.”
He nodded, not comfortable with the statement, or what he’d done. At the time, he’d been thinking of protecting the President, and having a chit in his back pocket to cash in to his handlers, if necessary. “Yes.”
“Zachary, you were responsible for the death of the President’s brother. Why on Earth did they allow you to live?”
Zach grinned. “Let’s just say I put a contingency plan in place to ensure my safety.”
“Very smart.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, before Joe spoke. “Did you enjoy your job at that time?”
Zach crossed his legs and laced his fingers together in his lap, considering the question for a moment.
“I’m not a blood-thirsty man, if that’s what you’re asking me. I don’t have the need to kill, nor is it something I think about doing on a frequent basis. However, I do not have a problem killing someone who deserves to die.”
“This world is filled with a lot of bad people.”
He chuckled. “I’m very well aware of that.”
The plane shifted, and the flight attendant came out to notify them of their descent to the Palm Springs International Airport. Zach grinned, loving they were landing in the area of palm trees, warm weather, and accolades to Bob Hope, one of the funniest men to ever inhabit the planet, in his opinion.
Just then, the phone rang. Joe answered.
“Seriously?” he asked, sounding incredulous after a few moments.
Zach thought he heard Garrett on the other end, his deep voice rumbling.
“They shot at the house?” Joe asked.
Uh-oh. Garrett had been tasked to guard Ruby Rose McDermott, the very sweet daughter of an oil tycoon who had escaped a kidnapping attempt, while Joe worked to apprehend the kidnappers.
Joe instructed Garrett into the living room and gave him a code to lower steel panels on the windows. Zach wished he could have seen that.
“I’m counting on you, Garrett. Don’t let your guard down for a second tonight, and if you run into trouble, do whatever you need to do to keep Ruby McDermott safe. Do you understand me?”
A brief pause followed as Garrett answered.
“Good. I’d rather have to dispose of a pile of bodies than tell a father his little girl has been murdered under my watch. On another note, your friend Zachary is quite an interesting person. I’m very intrigued with him.”
Garrett chuckled at Joe’s statement.
“Most people do,” he heard Garrett say.
“I understand why,” Joe continued. “I will meet you in Dallas tomorrow, and we’ll get Ruby home to her parents’ house. Be safe tonight. With the plates over the windows, you should be fine.”
As the plane landed, Joe sighed. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to head to Dallas to meet Garrett. We’ll take you to where you’ll be staying. Although this is rushed, if you’re interested, I’d like you to work for me; yet, I’m not sur
e in what capacity. Your special training might be of use to me. If that won’t work for you, please let me know.”
The sound of the plane door opening met his ears, and a blast of warm air caressed his face. A jolt of adrenaline went through his system at the prospect of being back in action.
He took a moment to dig deep within him.
No, he would not have a problem with killing again.
“I think we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement,” he said as Savannah raised her head and nudged his hand.
“Excellent. Let’s get to the safe house, and I can introduce you to the woman who lives there.”
“Woman?” He stood and grabbed hold of Savannah’s halter.
“Yes.” Joe sighed. “Her name’s Ella, and hopefully, you have enough charisma that she won’t shoot you.”
Zach grinned as he made his way down the stairs, intrigued. “I’m sure I can charm her enough to avoid a bullet.”
Chapter 2
Ella Frolic stared at her computer screen, picking up the outlines of monsters and silly faces in the letters making up the code scrolling across her screen. Closing her eyes, she sat back in her chair. The fact she was seeing things in the pixels proved she had been looking at the thing for too long.
She rubbed her eyes and stood, stretching her hands above her head. As she made her way into the kitchen, a sharp knock sounded at the door. After grabbing a soda from the refrigerator and her gun from the counter, she went to the entrance, her bare feet silent on the black marble tile.
Glancing through the peep hole, she sighed. A man with sunglasses on stood next to Joe, and behind him lingered one of Joe’s drivers. Anger boiled in her gut at Joe’s presence—nothing new there.
She swung the door open, not bothering to greet anyone.
“Hello, Ella.” A small grin played on Joe’s lips. “May we come in?”
“Who’s this?”
She nodded toward the man with the sunglasses. He stood about six feet tall, his physique thin, yet muscular. His dark hair had been combed to perfection, the stubble on his face also groomed. Next to him sat a Golden Retriever who started up at her, its tongue lolling to the side and its tail wagging.
Cute guy, cute dog.
Could he be blind? The dog and sunglasses indicated so.
“This is Zachary Johnson. Zachary, please meet Ella Frolic.”
“Hello,” Zachary said, slightly bowing his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Call me Zach.”
He was a smooth operator, and she loathed him on sight.
“Why are you here?” she snapped.
“May we please come in, Ella?” Joe asked. “I’m feeling a little exposed sitting out here.”
She sighed. There was no way out of it. She rolled her eyes and stepped aside, letting Joe’s driver push him in.
“You’re looking lovely, as always,” he commented once the front door had been shut.
She sighed and fought the urge to shoot him. She hadn’t looked lovely in a number of years, and she never would again. ‘Lovely’ did not describe the scar running down the side of her face that she tried to cover up with her long black hair. “What do you want, Joe?”
“Well, Zachary is a new employee of mine, and he needs a place to stay for a few days until I get all my ducks in a row with where I want to station him. Unfortunately, right now, I have an emergency in Arizona. The client will be moved to Dallas tomorrow, and I need to be there.”
“No.”
Damn Joe for using this house as a drop-off for those he recruited and then dumped on her when he didn’t have anywhere else to put them. She’d grown tired of acting as a babysitter, and she especially didn’t need a blind guy around, regardless of how nice-looking the man and the dog were. She had work that needed to be done.
“Ella—”
“No, Joe. I’m not babysitting a blind guy—no offense, Zach—and I don’t like dogs.”
She’d never really spent any time around the animals as she’d grown up in a military family and had moved twelve times throughout her childhood. Her mother had always said she had enough responsibility caring for Ella and her four brothers, so the last thing they needed was a dog. After graduating from high school, Ella followed in her father’s and brothers’ footsteps to go into the military where she’d studied nursing. She hadn’t had time for a dog then, and she held no interest in having one now.
“No offense taken, Ms. Frolic.” Zach’s smooth voice held a glacial tone. “However, I can assure you that I do not require a babysitter, and neither does Savannah.”
“He’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself, Ella. There’s really no reason to be so rude,” Joe said.
She glanced from Joe to Zach, irritation running through her. She didn’t have time for this crap. Joe had asked her to try a new virus to break the backdoor code for Group Nine’s servers, and he wanted it done yesterday. Now, he wanted to saddle her with guests?
“You’re the one who’s been hassling me about the Group Nine server, Joe.” She’d tried to keep her voice neutral but could hear the vitriol that ate her up on the inside in her words. “I don’t have time for guests.”
“It will only be for a few days.”
Joe gave her a small smile meant to soothe her, but it only irritated her further.
“Fine.” She threw her hands up. “These are the rules, Zach. You stay out of my way and pick up the dog shit.” She then looked at Joe. “A few days, and that’s it.”
As she turned and walked away, she heard Zach quietly say, “Lovely woman.”
Joe sighed. “Yes. She used to be, at least. Now, her demeanor doesn’t quite match her last name of ‘Frolic.’”’
Tears stung her eyes as she slammed the office door shut and leaned against it. At one point, before her life had become the empty, pathetic thing it had been reduced to today, she had been a lively, kind person. That had been before she and Joe found out about the government experiments and had then tried to run, just the two of them, in love; a David and Goliath story if there had ever been one. She’d loved her life, and Joe, before the government caught up with them, putting two bullets in Joe’s spine and disfiguring her face; before Joe became so obsessed with figuring out who stood behind the experiments and helping others affected. He’d then let their relationship die, leaving her truly alone in the world with nowhere to go. He’d offered her protection from the government, kept her hidden away, kept her safe, but had given her nothing emotionally. All he had went towards his need for revenge, his desire to right the wrongs his government had done.
She wiped a lone tear from her cheek and sat down in front of the computer, laying her gun next to the mouse. She didn’t have time to think about what she’d been, or what she’d become.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to focus on her work, because if she gave too much thought to her life, she may completely fall apart.
Chapter 3
Joe’s driver led Zach and Savannah to what would be his bedroom, and then on a quick tour of the house. As they went from room to room, Zach developed a mental layout of the floor plan and tracked the number of steps it took to get from one room to the next as he gripped Savannah’s halter handle. The whole process was a necessary irritant.
“This is Ella’s room,” the driver said as they came to a stop. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. The last guy who stayed here tried to do her a favor and put her folded laundry on her bed. He didn’t know she was in the room, and when he opened the door, she shot him.”
Zach chuckled, despite the serious nature of what the man had said. “Did he die?”
“No, she got him in the leg. He was supposed to be activated in the near future, so you can imagine how angry Joe was.”
“Yes, I can.”
“So just stay out of there.”
“And maybe not do anything kind for the lovely Ella?”
“Probably a good idea.”
A few minutes later, they said their good
byes and Joe left, promising to update him on Garrett and Ruby’s safety. Zach worried for them, and hoped they would be safe. He also wondered what Joe would think when he found out Garrett had been banging his client. Probably not the smartest move, but Ruby would be a perfect match for Garrett, although he assumed his friend would be too pig-headed and set in his own ways to realize it.
He flipped the lock on the front door and took a deep breath, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. Calming himself, he concentrated on the smells and sounds of the house.
He heard the faint tapping of a keyboard, and assumed Ella must be pounding the keys in her office, two doors down from his bedroom. The foyer had a slight smell of new carpet and glue, and if Ella had shot someone in her bedroom just a few paces to his right, the carpet would have needed to be replaced, for sure. Hence those lingering smells. He also detected the weak hint of paint.
He cringed—it must have been a bloody one.
As he moved toward the kitchen, the faint change in the air as he entered it rolled over his exposed skin—a couple of degrees cooler, tinged with the fading aroma of coffee that most people probably wouldn’t notice. His footfalls still echoed, so he must be walking on tile. He ran his fingers over the cold countertop—marble or granite, he’d say. A large island sat in the middle of the kitchen, and he felt his way along the countertop to the kitchen’s exit into the living room.
Carpet muffled his steps here and he caught a whiff of leather conditioner. Savannah stopped and whined.
“Do you have to go out?”
She whined again.
He reached to his right and cool glass met his touch. Finding the handle to the sliding glass door, he flipped the latch and slid the panel open. Savannah led him outside, and he tapped his foot out in front of him, making sure he wouldn’t fall down a flight of stairs if he ventured farther.
