Dark Deceptions

by Dee Davis

  “One of your men gave us a little trouble, but we managed to take him out,” Nash said.

  “I take it he’s dead.”

  “As a doornail. Which I suspect is the fate of the rest of your colleagues.”

  A volley of shooting rang out in protestation, and Rivon smiled. “I think you might be just a little bit ahead of yourself. Besides, as long as I have the boy, I win.”

  Annie fought against a surge of rage and backed slowly away from the doorway, moving instead toward the closed door leading to the front of the house. A bedroom, if she remembered right. Leading to the living room. Which in turn connected with the dining room. If Nash could keep Rivon from shifting position, she just might be able to sneak up on him from the back. It would be tricky with Adam there, but not impossible.

  The room, like the rest of the house, was in tatters. A broken bed frame listed toward the front wall, its torn and tufted mattress long ago surrendering to local vermin. Keeping the wall to her back, Annie slid forward until she reached the door to the living room. From her new vantage point, she could see Rivon. And Adam.

  Rivon had her son in a stranglehold, his gun pressed against Adam’s temple. She drew in a breath, calculating angles. And then sighed, frustration cresting. Even if she could manage the shot, Rivon might still manage to shoot Adam, his reflexes following through even if his brain was already dying.

  “Throw me your gun,” Rivon said, tightening his hold on Adam.

  “What guarantee do I have that you won’t shoot the boy the minute I do?” Nash asked, moving slightly to the right, his gun still pointing at Rivon. She could almost see him now. Just a few more inches.

  “You have my word,” Rivon said with a shrug.

  “Which we all know isn’t worth a damn.” Nash shifted a little more to the right, his movement almost imperceptible, but now she could see him full on. She smiled as their gazes met. Feigning throwing her gun, she nodded toward the far corner. Away from Adam.

  Again almost imperceptibly, Nash tilted his head toward Adam, with a slight nod.

  And just like that the plan was set.

  This was a game they’d played a million times before.

  She nodded, her grip on the Beretta tightening as she anticipated the next move.

  “Look, I don’t know who the hell you are,” Rivon bellowed, “but I do know you’re after the kid. So if you don’t want his blood on your hands, throw me the goddamned gun.”

  “Fine.” Nash shrugged. “You win.” He tossed the Sig Sauer to his right, just beyond the other man’s reach.

  Everything else happened at once. Rivon instinctively moved toward the careening gun, releasing his hold on Adam. Nash dove across the room, pulling her son to the floor. And Annie fired, her bullet hitting Rivon dead center. He dropped to his knees as his gun fell from lifeless fingers.

  Annie stood for a moment, frozen to the spot. Afraid to look in Nash’s direction. Afraid of what she might see.

  “Mommy?” Adam’s voice broke through her fear, and after handing Nash the gun, she swept her son into her arms.

  “I’m here, baby. Right here.” She stroked his hair, looking over his head as Nash checked the body and retrieved the Sig.

  “Is he dead?” Adam asked, his voice quavering.

  “Yes, baby,” she answered truthfully, tears filling her eyes. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “I knew you’d come,” Adam said, his chin trembling. “You were just like Zelda in my Wind Waker game.” He shot a shy look in Nash’s direction. “And he’s like Link.”

  “You play too much Nintendo,” she chided automatically, her mind still dealing with the ramifications of what could have happened. “Anything from Drake?”

  “Nothing yet,” Nash said from his position by the front window, “but I can see at least two down from here. Which is a good sign.”

  “Third guy’s trussed up like a turkey. Figured he might be of use,” Drake said from the kitchen doorway, the machine gun still draped over his shoulder. “I came in the back way, in case you needed help. But it looks like you’ve got it all under control.”

  “Wow,” Adam whispered, eyes wide at the sight of Drake’s fatigues. “You brought the army.”

  “Something like that.” Annie smiled, smoothing his hair.

  “Anyone else here? Like maybe someone in charge?” Drake asked.

  “Nope. Just Rivon.” Nash shook his head.

  “What’s with the beeping?” Drake frowned, his gaze sweeping the room.

  “I don’t know,” she said, “I didn’t hear it before. Nash?”

  “It’s coming from over there. Could be Rivon or maybe the table.” Drake moved toward the dining room table as Nash dropped down beside Rivon, and Annie shifted to shield Adam’s view.

  “Son of a bitch,” Drake said from beneath the table.

  “What? What is it?” Annie asked, her heart rate ratcheting upward again.

  “A bomb.”

  “Looks like Rivon had the detonator,” Nash said, holding up a small box with a pulsing green light. “He must have pressed it when you took him out. Or maybe he triggered it when he fell.”

  Drake pushed to his feet. “Either way, we’ve got to get out of here. Now.”

  Adrenaline surging, Annie jumped up, pulling Adam with her. “Come on, baby, we’ve got to go,” she said, swinging him up into her arms, already beginning to run. But their combined weight was more than the old floor could bear. She felt it give even as the crack of splintering wood echoed through the house, her left leg driving straight downward, Adam tumbling from her arms.

  Annie tried to push herself upward, the incessant beeping reminding her just how little time they had left, but her body refused to budge, her left leg jammed through the floor, dangling below her with nothing to push off of.

  “Get Adam out of here,” she yelled, still struggling for a foothold.

  “Mommy,” Adam shrieked as Drake scooped him into his arms and ran for the door.

  “Hang on, Annie,” Nash said as he slipped his hands underneath her arms. “I think this is going to hurt.”

  “Beats the hell out of being blown to bits,” she said through gritted teeth as he yanked her upward, the splintered wood scraping at her skin.

  “Just like old times,” he said.

  Without further conversation, he swung her up and over his shoulder, carrying her fireman style as he made for the front door, the syncopated beep accompanying them step for step. Slamming through the screened front door, they hit the porch and were about halfway down the stairs when the house blew.

  “Move it, Brennon,” she yelled as she watched the fireball shooting through the house, the heat preceding it making the paint on the porch blister.

  Nash made it another fifteen feet or so before the surge of the blast caught up with them, throwing them both into a stand of rhododendron another ten feet from the house. Ash and debris rained down as he rolled to cover her body with his, the arching branches of the bush providing additional protection.

  “Are we still alive?” she groaned after the worst of it had passed.

  “I think so,” he said, rolling off her. “But to tell you the truth, it’s kind of hard to tell. How’s the leg?”

  “Not broken. But it hurts like hell.” She pushed to a sitting position. “You?”

  “Everything seems to be working.”

  “Can you see Adam or Drake?” She tried but couldn’t keep the worry from her voice.

  “Not from here.” He shook his head. “But I know they’re okay. Drake got them out well before the blast.”

  She nodded, knowing intellectually that he was right, but terrified nevertheless.

  “Annie. Nash. Can you hear me?” Drake’s voice filtered through the dense vegetation.

  “We’re here,” they called in tandem.

  “Is Adam all right?” Annie asked as Drake helped Nash to his feet.

  “He’s fine. I think he’s more worried about you than anything el
se. That was some leap the two of you took.”

  “We had a little help,” Nash said, reaching down to lift her up. “For the first time in my life I think I really understand the concept of the booster rocket.”

  “So where is he?” she asked, leaning against Nash for support.

  “Don’t worry. He’s with Tyler and Emmett.”

  “Famous last words,” Nash quipped as they slowly limped forward. “But I guess that means reinforcements arrived.”

  “Yeah. A little late if you ask me,” Drake said, tipping his head toward the group huddled in front of a couple of SUVs. “If for no other reason than they missed all the fun.”

  “I can think of better ways to spend an afternoon,” Annie said, searching the assembled group for signs of her son.

  “Mom,” Adam cried, breaking into a dead run at the sight of her.

  “Careful,” Nash said, catching his shoulders as he tried to throw himself at his mother. “You’ve got to be gentle. She’s got some battle wounds.”

  “From flying,” Adam said, his voice quavering. “I saw you both.”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Annie said, reaching for her son. “I’m all right. And besides, you know I’d never turn down a hug from you.”

  Over her shoulder, she mouthed the words thank you as Adam nestled his head against her waist. There really weren’t words to express her gratitude toward Nash—toward all of A-Tac. They’d given her back her son.

  The nightmare was over.

  She released Adam, the two of them turning to head for the cars at the end of the drive. But as she lifted her foot to move forward, an alarm sounded in her head, her body sensing what she could neither see nor hear.

  “Get down,” Nash yelled, already diving forward, his big body sending them crashing to the ground. Behind her, Annie heard the bullet splintering wood as it embedded itself in a tree directly behind where they’d been standing, the ricochet echoing through the suddenly quiet farmyard.

  Drake and the others, instantly on alert, moved in the direction of the sniper, guns drawn. But the woods stayed silent.

  “You okay?” Annie asked, searching her son’s face for signs that he’d been injured.

  “I think so.” He nodded, his voice a whisper, his eyes as round as saucers. “Is the bad man out there?” He shot a look at the woods, his mouth trembling.

  “It’s all right,” Nash said, his mouth tight with anger, as he searched the tree line for signs of danger. “No one is going to hurt you.”

  As if to mock his words, Rivon’s phone vibrated against Annie’s thigh. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten it was in her pocket. Careful not to alarm Adam, she pulled the cell free, flipping it open as her gaze met Nash’s.

  He nodded, and she forced herself to talk. “Gallagher.”

  “Consider that a warning,” the disembodied voice said, the sound sending a shiver of dread racing down her spine. “I can get to you any place—any time. So enjoy this moment with your son because, I promise you, unless you complete your end of our bargain, it isn’t going to last.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, to tell him exactly where he could put his threats, but her effort was wasted—the line had gone dead.

  The cold wind howled as it moved through the wreckage of the farmhouse, the wailing monotone underscoring the fact that she’d been wrong. The nightmare wasn’t over—it had only just begun.

  CHAPTER 14

  All right, people,” Avery said, his voice carrying over the chatter in the room, “settle down.”

  Nash pulled up a chair, straddling it, as the rest of the team found seats in the war room. Avery had called everyone back to Sunderland for debriefing, dispatching a forensics team to secure the scene. Annie, much to her frustration, had been sent to medical along with Adam, with Lara assigned to check them both out and keep watch. Annie hadn’t been thrilled at being left out of the briefing, but Avery hadn’t been interested in her arguments.

  In light of everything that had happened, Nash was conflicted about Avery’s decision to keep Annie out of the loop. To some extent, at least, she deserved to be in on their findings. But that didn’t negate the fact that she remained a wild card, and that the only thing stopping her from taking matters into her own hands was being sequestered here at Sunderland.

  Avery was just doing his job.

  “So someone want to tell me what went wrong out there?” Avery asked, his tone probing.

  “A hell of a lot went right,” Drake protested. “We rescued the kid.”

  “True.” Avery nodded, his expression resolute. “But you and Nash almost got killed, and the farmhouse was blown to smithereens. Not to mention the sniper and the phone call. So humor me and let’s start at the first sign of trouble. Why did we lose satellite communication?”

  “It wasn’t my system,” Emmett said. “I ran every conceivable diagnostics program and everything checked out.”

  “You said the same thing about the communications failure in Southeast Asia,” Nash reminded him.

  “Yeah, well this is different. In Southeast Asia, the whole system went down. This time it was interference. And there’s no way we were the source.”

  “I can vouch for that,” Hannah said. “The interference was definitely external. Which means that either they tapped into our communications and jammed us, or there was some kind of satellite snafu.”

  “Any way to know for sure?” Avery asked.

  “Not at this point.” Emmett shook his head. “There are feedback reports filed on all our satellites, but the data isn’t available in real time. Anyway, considering there was no way to verify the source, Hannah and Jason followed the proper protocol. They went dark at the first evidence of trouble.”

  “If the kidnappers were jamming us, it wasn’t from the farmhouse,” Nash said. “I didn’t see any kind of satellite linkup. Did they find anything on the bodies?”

  “A couple of short-range two-way radios and a cell phone,” Emmett said. “I’ve got people pulling information off them now. But nothing that could account for the interference.”

  “Well, I’m not sure it’s relevant now other than as part of the postmortem,” Avery observed. “But I want all the systems double-checked again. Never hurts to be overly cautious.”

  Emmett nodded, making a notation in his BlackBerry.

  “Which brings us to the weapons malfunction.” Avery looked down at the paper he held in his hand. “Nash, you said that the firing mechanism jammed.”

  “Yeah, although it shouldn’t have. I’ve turned it over to ballistics. They should be able to identify the source of the problem. But I can tell you one thing for certain, it wasn’t me. I always make it a point to clean my guns after I use them. And I always check everything before going into a mission.”

  “Anyone else have an opportunity to handle it?”

  “No one…” he trailed off, an ugly thought filling his head.

  “What?”

  “It’s nothing,” he said, regretting he’d said anything out loud. “Really. Just that the gun was in the bag with the other gear for the operation. And I gave it to Annie.”

  “But Annie had more reason than anyone to want us to succeed,” Drake said. “Doesn’t make sense that she’d try to sabotage things.”

  “And besides,” Nash said, his brain still turning over the idea, “Annie saved our asses. Hell, guns jam all the time. It was probably just an accident.”

  “We’ll wait to see what ballistics has to say.” Avery nodded. “And in the meantime, everybody be extra-careful about checking weapons. Tyler, where are we with the bomb?”

  “Still a ways to go. But we’ll know more once my team sifts through the rubble.” She hit a button and the screen was filled with a shot of the explosion, the scattered debris underscoring the reality of how close they’d come to getting blown to bits. “We know that the epicenter of the explosion was the dining room.”

  “Which is perfect placement for taking out the whole house,” Dra
ke said.

  “And everything else in the vicinity.” Tyler switched to a second photograph. “This is the device Nash found on Rivon. It’s definitely the trigger. A remote one at that. Which seems to support the supposition that Rivon triggered it by accident. Or maybe after Annie shot him. He’d have known it was over. And taking out the compound is a hell of an endgame.”

  “I’d agree with that,” Hannah mused, studying the photograph. “Rivon doesn’t really strike me as the type to sacrifice himself unless there were no alternatives.”

  “Well, it definitely fits the MO of a religious zealot,” Drake said, “but I agree, not Rivon. He was definitely more about self-preservation than self-sacrifice.”

  “I don’t think the idea was to blow himself up.” Avery frowned. “I think it was more about destroying evidence once the operation had played through.”

  “You don’t think they were planning to release Adam.” Jason leaned back in his chair, his expression grim.

  “Doesn’t follow with the facts.” Avery shook his head. “There appeared to be no attempt to hide their identities. And if he’d seen them all, then he could identify them.”

  “Which means they had to take him out.” Drake’s eyes narrowed as he considered the idea. “My guess is that after Annie took out Dominico—”

  “Assuming she’d have actually gone through with it,” Nash interrupted, anger flashing.

  “Don’t kid yourself, Nash. I’ve seen her in action. If she thought her kid’s life depended on it—she’d have done it.” Drake shrugged, apologetically. “Anyway, the point is, I think they were planning to take out Annie, the kid, and any evidence, all in one fell swoop.”

  “We just got in the way. And then when Annie shot him, Rivon triggered the bomb.”

  “But what was he doing with it in the first place? I mean, where was the guy in charge?” Emmett asked. “The one who called Annie?”

  “Maybe he was on his way. Or maybe there was going to be some kind of remote contact,” Hannah said. “There’s really no way to know for sure.”

  “So what else do we have?” Avery asked, bringing everyone’s attention back to Tyler.