Where Death Meets the Devil

by L. J. Hayward

  Blade found him there, still crouched over the dead man, knife protruding from between his shoulders. The assassin took it in with a swift glance, then motioned for Jack to get up.

  “We should hurry. I took care of the rest of them, but there may be another patrol through here soon.”

  The ache in Jack’s chest wasn’t just from the bullet anymore, but he heaved himself to his feet and trotted after Blade.

  Around them, the world was turning to a lovely, soft bronze colour, pre-dawn in the desert. It was still cold, though, the warmth of exertion cooling rapidly. From somewhere ahead, a cow moaned irritably.

  “The cattle pen?”

  “No one’s here,” Blade answered.

  “For now.” Jack sagged against a railing. Adrenaline waned, letting the pain return. He sank to the ground, wincing as the motion pulled on his chest.

  “Are you all right?” Blade crouched in front of him.

  “What do you think? You shot me, you mongrel.” He gritted the words out between pain-locked jaws.

  “Only with a needle-tipped rubber bullet full of enough tranquiliser to knock you out fast.”

  “Tranquiliser?” Jack rubbed his chest, hissing at the depth and breadth of the sore spot.

  “I couldn’t very well have you waking up after I killed you.” He peered into Jack’s eyes. “I am sorry.”

  “For which bit? Betraying me, beating the shit out of me, or shooting me?” Or kissing Valadian?

  “All of it.” He sat back on his heels. “It’s far too complicated to explain now.”

  “Try.” Jack shifted and sat against a fence post. Behind him, cows rustled and farted. “And as you do, remember I’m only not strangling you because of crippling pain.”

  A corner of Blade’s mouth turned up, then sank down as he took a deep breath. “All right. Condensed version. I was employed by an anonymous third party to not only kill Valadian, but also discover how he’d managed to slide under so many radars for so long. My initial search led me to believe there is someone, or a group, protecting him.”

  Jack made to protest, but Blade carried on.

  “It makes sense, Jack. Valadian’s been gathering troops and armaments for years. He’s been looked at by various government agencies several times, and never charged with anything. Someone has been deflecting those investigations. Either one of Valadian’s more powerful partners . . . or, more likely, someone from the inside.”

  Talking over him, Jack said, “You only think that because you have issues with bureaucracy and governments.”

  “I swear, Jack, it’s true. I don’t know who it is, or where they are, but it’s the only explanation.”

  “All right, if someone’s protecting him, why was I sent in?”

  “Precisely. Why? My first thought was you were sent in as an added layer of protection for Valadian. Someone he wasn’t aware of who could look out for other spies and eliminate them quietly. Why else would a decorated SAS soldier be sent in as a general thug, when inserting you in the military side of things would have allowed you to rise through the ranks much quicker?”

  Things were falling into place at long bloody last. As much as Jack hated to admit it, it made sense. Valadian’s operation here had been too well established when Jack arrived, too entrenched, and The Man himself seemingly very confident of his secrecy.

  “So, you staged the whole torture-shack scenario as what? The longest, most complicated trust exercise in the world?”

  Understanding didn’t make it any easier to take. He’d been used. Tricked, manipulated, betrayed. Everything Blade had said and done in the desert had been a lie, aimed to discover if Jack was on the level or not.

  “In a sense, yes.” Either Blade wasn’t aware of what was coming or he didn’t care. “If I put you in a position where you believed I was going to kill Valadian, and then made myself vulnerable to you, you would expose your true purpose in being here.”

  “And did I?” Jack’s hand curled into a fist at his side.

  “Yes, Jack, you did. You didn’t try to kill me. I know you’re not protecting Val—”

  Jack hit him. Punched him as hard as he could. Given that he was propped against the fence, aching abysmally across the chest, it wasn’t as hard as he could have otherwise managed, but it rocked Blade off his feet.

  Tumbling to his arse in the dust, Blade didn’t retaliate. He just sat there, a smear of blood on the corner of his mouth, which sat open in shock.

  “That’s for betraying me.” Jack shook out his hand. “You could have told me all this before we went into the compound.”

  Gingerly, Blade touched the corner of his mouth, then frowned at the blood on his fingertip. “I could have, but I still needed to discover who the protector was. My best bet was to see if Valadian would let it slip while talking to you. It would have been much more difficult if you were fully aware of everything. Sadly, the gambit didn’t pay off. I know he didn’t tell you. I watched the video feed while he was talking to you.”

  Which meant Blade had seen Jack go mental about the kiss and the fucking. Hopefully he didn’t see the blush roaring up Jack’s neck and cheeks.

  He laughed, part in shame, part to deny it, but it hurt, so he stopped and settled for shoving at Blade with his boot. “That’s all I am. Part of a job. It was all a lie. Everything you said and did. Just an act to suck me in.”

  Blade pulled in a deep breath, then another. “At first, yes. I needed you to think I trusted you enough to allow myself to be vulnerable around you. And then I started to like you.”

  “Like me?” Jack couldn’t keep the derision from his tone. “Why? I think we can rule out the fuck, because you didn’t really like that, did you?”

  “Half right, Jack,” Blade whispered. “It was before that night, yes. Why? Because you treated me like I was a person, not something to be scared of.”

  “I was plenty scared.”

  “Scared or not, it didn’t stop you arguing with me or telling me how you truly felt. Most people, when they hear the name Ethan Blade, clam up out of fear. They don’t want to upset me or provoke me. You didn’t do that, and it felt . . . good.”

  Jack looked away. Damn it. “Yeah, well, it’s hard to keep quiet when someone has a pet camel. That shit just has to be acknowledged.”

  “And you make me laugh, Jack.” Case in point, the chuckle under the words.

  Shaking off the moment, Jack scowled. “So, what next? You’re not going to betray me again, are you?”

  “No, Jack. Never again.” There was an aching honesty in the words. “Now, we have to get you out of here before Valadian discovers I haven’t done as he asked.” He stood and offered a hand to Jack.

  Jack contemplated the hand for a long moment, then took it. Blade helped him up.

  “You’ve screwed up your own cover now, haven’t you.” Jack said softly. “Getting me out. Taking down that patrol.”

  Blade shrugged. “It was time. Valadian dies today.”

  “About fucking time.”

  The mad chase continued until Ethan veered onto an exit at the last possible moment, concerned about roadblocks. Two of their tails missed it and kept on going on the freeway. One, however, managed to follow them, but lost them when Ethan cut across two lanes and made a highly illegal left turn.

  “Um, Ethan.” Jack’s hands tightened around his seat belt. “We seem to be going the wrong way.”

  Oncoming traffic was scrambling wildly to get out of the way of the speeding Vanquish.

  “It would appear so.” Ethan deftly swerved them around a confused hatchback. “We are, however, clear of pursuit for a moment.”

  Jack leaned forwards and peered up through the windscreen. “Chopper’s still with us, though.”

  “It won’t be a problem soon.” With only a mild near miss, Ethan hooked the car into another left turn so they were going with the traffic, not against it. “Jack, in the glove compartment you’ll find a phone.”

  He did and, under Ethan�
�s instructions, sent a short message he didn’t understand but which had to mean something to the person on the other end, because about thirty seconds later, K appeared on the screen. Short for okay? Or some indecipherable assassin code? Jack didn’t ponder too long over it, however, as Ethan threaded them further into the heart of Sydney. With the chopper still overhead, it wouldn’t be long before the police found the Vanquish again. If everything went to plan, even that wouldn’t matter soon.

  Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, Ethan cut across a rather busy intersection, swerved around a delivery truck, and entered the car park of a large shopping centre. They lost the advantage of speed but gained the cover of overhead sails.

  Jack let out a long breath. Somewhere in the maze of the car park, Ethan’s associate waited with the name of the traitor. One way or another, by the time the sun had set, this would be over. Hopefully with the traitor locked up and Jack not. And if meeting this mysterious associate gave him another insight into Ethan Blade, then that would just be a bonus.

  Several turns later, they eased up a row of parked cars, and there, about halfway along, was a woman. She looked like she belonged exactly there, leaning against the back of an Audi SUV, in sunglasses and a flowery summer dress, waves of white-blonde hair falling beautifully around her shoulders, bags of shopping at her high-heel-encased feet. Phone in hand, she appeared to be waiting for someone. The moment she saw the Aston Martin, she slipped the phone into her purse and waved.

  They pulled up beside her, and Ethan opened his door.

  “What is this?” the elegant woman demanded while smiling brightly. “This wasn’t the deal.”

  Getting out, Ethan said, calm and collected, “The plan changed.”

  She lost the smile and poked Ethan in the chest, sharply. “You were told, specifically, that this couldn’t happen.” She gestured at the interior of the car as she said it.

  While she could have meant the car, Jack didn’t believe that. For some reason, this person he’d never met before had decided he wasn’t supposed to be here.

  “This is my job,” Ethan replied, no change in his tone. “I’ll conduct it however I see—”

  “That excuse is getting pretty thin.” Though some of the hardness was gone, as if she were about to cave. “Remember, it was you who wanted this. Not me, not the others.”

  Now it was Ethan’s turn to relent. “Yes, I remember. However—”

  “No.” She stopped him with an imperious hand. “I don’t want to hear it again. This isn’t the time. That chopper’s still up there.” She dipped a hand into the valley between her breasts and produced a data stick and a car key. “Here. Don’t make any more stupid changes.”

  Then she slid into the Vanquish, taking Ethan’s place behind the wheel. Before Jack could move, she turned and regarded him. Even with the sunglasses between them, he could feel the burning glare.

  “Well?” she snapped. “I’m not here to babysit you. Get.”

  Every memory of failing to obey his older sister when they were kids fuelled Jack’s hasty escape. Between him and Ethan, they piled the shopping bags onto the passenger seat and stood back while Ethan’s associate revved the engine. The growling roar made her smile. She dipped her glasses and looked over the top of them.

  “Don’t get caught,” she admonished Ethan. Then she was gone, burning away in the sleek car.

  “Come,” Ethan said. “We’d best get moving.”

  “Yeah,” Jack muttered, still digesting the sight of her eyes. All white, with large pupils. Just like Ethan’s.

  She was a Sugar Baby. And if he chose to interpret her words one way, there were others.

  Ethan was on the move, weaving between parked cars. Holding up the key, he hit the Unlock button, and a sedan in the next row blinked and beeped. In the sky, the chopper was circling, waiting for the Vanquish to reappear. Which it apparently did just as Jack reached the new car. Somewhere distant, horns blared, tyres squealed, and the thrumming of the chopper moved in that direction. Poised at the driver’s side of the understated sedan, Ethan looked up, following the sound. He frowned worriedly, then got in.

  Even though Jack wondered if the worry was for the Vanquish or the disturbingly big-sister-like woman, he jumped into the new car, which was refreshingly more his style. He might not have found any more answers to the puzzle that was Ethan Blade—had, in fact, been handed more mysteries—but inside this car was the answer to the most pressing question.

  “So?” he pushed. “Let’s look at the info on the stick.”

  Without a word, Ethan produced a small tablet and inserted the stick. Jack leaned over and together they watched page after page of data scroll across the screen. If this was a summary of what the Matryoshka program had found, he could understand the ire of Ethan’s “associate.” Still, that was a minor matter when they finally reached the end and a single name was highlighted.

  “Shit,” Jack cursed.

  “Not who you were expecting?” Ethan pulled the stick and tucked it in the front of his armour.

  “No.” Settling back as Ethan started the car, Jack added, “But it makes perfect sense.”

  “Yes, it does. Shall we go do something about it, then?”

  He didn’t bother waiting for Jack’s affirmative. Within minutes, they were out of the car park and, sans chopper, resumed their journey back to Darling Harbour.

  As opposed to when they’d actively been pursued, Jack’s tension now ratcheted up. He had a name at long last, a reason for all the trouble the Valadian job had caused him, both then and now. They were so close to ending it Jack worried about all the things that could still go wrong. None of them were anything he could fix right now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try.

  “It’s not going to work, you know.”

  Ethan glanced at him. “What isn’t going to work?”

  “Your plan. The other directors won’t believe you. Not until they’ve gone through every skerrick of data. Which can, and will, take weeks, probably months. They aren’t like you, Ethan. They have to follow the rules.”

  “They won’t be able to keep me there.”

  Jack conceded with a nod. “You might get out. I probably won’t.”

  Ethan’s fingers flexed around the steering wheel. “Then come with me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t, or won’t?”

  Jack swallowed hard. He could do it. Ethan was fun and smart, occasionally endearing, and sexy as hell. Even his personality quirks were intriguing. The stone-cold killer thing was an issue, but it wasn’t why Jack answered as he did.

  If he ran, he would have no hope of convincing anyone he was still, and always had been, loyal, but that wasn’t why he said what he said.

  “Right now, it’s won’t.”

  Ethan kept his gaze on the road ahead, then nodded once.

  It was on the tip of Jack’s tongue to explain. To say something like, It’s because I’m finally home. Back from the desert. Out there I was lost and confused, wondering what sort of person I was if I could feel any sort of sympathy for a total bastard like Valadian. Or you. I was struggling to keep myself together. I wasn’t fighting for a reason. I was fighting myself. But here, now, I’ve found a target again. Something to aim for. My job is to protect. My family might not approve of what I do, or remember me, but they’re the ones I have to keep safe. And if you stuck around, I’d try to keep you safe, as well.

  But he didn’t. Just kept his trap shut, let Ethan drive—and planned a betrayal.

  A block away from their destination, Ethan pulled over into a loading zone. He left the car idling as they watched the building. Everything appeared normal—massive glass panes shining in the afternoon light. It was an illusion. No matter the distraction of the unmistakable Aston Martin, those inside the Office wouldn’t be fooled. Security would be amped up, traps ready to spring around every possible ingress. They knew Jack and Ethan would be coming back. It was how they’d get in that was the mystery.


  Jack’s stomach tightened in a sudden burst of nausea, but it passed as quickly as it came, and the soothing calm he’d been missing since the desert finally arrived. Why it decided to return now, he didn’t know. Didn’t want to admit it was because of the man beside him.

  “Are you ready?” Ethan asked.

  “Let’s just get it done before the building goes into lockdown.”

  “As you wish, Jack.”

  At the far end of the block, the lights at the intersection turned red. For a precious few moments, the lane opposite them was clear of traffic. Revving the engine, Ethan spun the wheel, and the car charged out of the loading zone, then crossed to the far lane in a cacophony of horn honks. The car leaped forwards down the empty lane. By the time they reached the Neville Crawley Building, they were doing nearly eighty K/hr.

  Armoured gates were dropping over the façade of the building as the car bumped up over the footpath and aimed for the huge glass plates. Ethan floored the accelerator.

  At the last moment, he spun the wheel and the car screamed, skidding in sideways, then backwards, then coming around as it shattered through the thick glass. The armoured gates clanged shut just behind the spinning car. Another rotation and the car crashed into the foot of the pointless staircase in the middle of the foyer.

  Head spinning, Jack pried himself off the caved-in door of the smashed car. In the abrupt silence after the crash, noise was slowly returning. The ticks of the hot engine, the faint click of something inside it still trying to work. The woot woot of the building alarm and the growing shouts of security converging on them.

  Unfolding as much as he could, Jack reached for Ethan. “You okay?”

  Ethan moaned. “I believe so.”

  This was it. According to Ethan, what happened next would be a protracted fight against the security teams converging on them. Then a running battle through the halls, looking for a traitor who would be doing anything to not be caught.