In the end Cole told Cassandra I had girl problems and nobody in the kitchen was interested in hearing any more about it. He lured Bergman out of the room by informing him Pete was on my special specs, something about a glitch in his translator hardware that had caused an agent’s hair to catch fire. When we were all gathered in the boys’ room with Cole guarding the door against snoops, I gave our newbies the lowdown. Bergman took it well. Cassandra swayed a little, but she refused help as she walked to the bench, where she sat still and staring. I sat beside her, talking fast.
“I’m going to see Raoul as soon as I can,” I told her. “I will work this out.”
“If it’s possible,” she said, her voice distant, strangely calm. She’d had to dig deep for this strength. Almost to the other side of the world.
“Cassandra, you should have more faith in me,” I said. I sounded composed, but my insides were quaking. The consequences of my failure were so extreme I could hardly bear the thought of them. So, of course, I didn’t. “Did I not save your life on our last mission, despite the fact that you’d had a vision of your own death?”
Momentary pause. “Yes.”
“Shouldn’t that count for something now, especially considering the fact that you haven’t had a single vision since you touched my brother thirty-two hours ago?”
It took a while for her eyes to focus on me. When they did, they managed a smile. “Yes,” she said.
“Well then.” I left it there. Moved on. “We think the Wizard’s link to David is in his neck.” And that’s where I stopped. I looked at Vayl, suddenly helpless. If I had to say another word I’d burst into tears and ruin every bit of credibility I’d gained over the past five minutes. Because I could only pretend my twin being a zombie was no big deal for so long. And then the horror of it would overcome me, leave me speechless.
During these times I almost wished Vayl hadn’t rescued me from the mahghul poison. What a relief to have cared less. Kept a distance from the pain. But I couldn’t have functioned then. I’d have been left, like Asha, standing on the sidewalk, scribbling names on a notepad as if I thought that might make some difference in my worthless, blasted world.
Vayl nodded slightly, raising an eyebrow to ask if I’d be okay. I shrugged. He said, “We need a way to track the connection between the device in David’s neck and the Wizard. We thought perhaps, between the two of you” — his glance took in Cassandra and Bergman both — “perhaps you could find a scientific and/ or magical means to do that without alerting the Wizard that his plans have been compromised.”
“That might be difficult on my end,” said Cassandra. “David and I have been spending such a lot of time together. He might become suspicious when I begin to stay away.”
A definite point. I said, “Then I think we bring in Cam. He can decide if the rest of the team can keep this kind of secret without letting Dave in on it. And they can divert him when you’re busy.”
We agreed to let Cole recruit Cam while I tried to contact Raoul. Bergman took my place on the bench. He and Cassandra immediately began discussing strategies while I went to stand by Vayl at the window.
“How do you want to do this?” he asked in a low voice.
“I’m not going out-of-body yet,” I told him, trying not to shiver at how easily the Magistrate had trapped me last time. “But if I have to —” I bit my lip to keep myself from saying goodbye. You have to believe you’re coming back. “It might get rough,” I said. I twisted Cirilai on my finger. Gave it a tap. “You may need to send help.” I paused. “If you can.”
He nodded, the relief in his eyes making me wish I could hug him. “Yes. The ring and I are on speaking terms again.”
Whew! In dire circumstances, Vayl could share his power with me through the ring. It wasn’t easy on either one of us, but if Cirilai told him I was in trouble, he might be able to assist me. Having been through one battle without that fallback, I was doubly glad to have it now.
“All right, then,” he said, “go ahead and talk.”
I looked out the window. Raoul? Major problems here below.
I’M LISTENING.
I sketched out the details. So, what do you think? I finally asked. Can you save my brother this time? I emphasized the last two words, letting him know I remembered our brief conversation about Dave on my initial visit to his headquarters.
Long silence, during which I realized it had begun to rain. I gazed down at the small courtyard behind the house. It looked as bare and forlorn as my life would be without Dave in it. Raoul? I don’t think you’re understanding the severity of my situation here. We need to talk face-to-face.
TOO DANGEROUS.
For you or for me? Because I gotta tell you, if my brother dies when I think you could’ve saved him, neither one of us is going to be very effective at our jobs for a long, long time. HE IS GOVERNED BY EVIL.
So’s practically everyone in this country! Come on, you’re smart enough to tell the difference between a victim and a bad guy! Look at Dave’s history, for chrissake. He’s an angel compared to me! I paused to check my tone. No sign of whining, thank goodness, but a definite on the desperation. Screw it. I’d worry about my pride later. I don’t know why he ended up where he is. Or why you never told me. But I do know my brother. He’d throw himself on his own grenade rather than betray his comrades and his country. Another pause, which I used to remind myself to call my other sibling. Evie must be frantic by now, worried about Albert and unable to contact me or David. One thing at a time though. If I tried to think about everything I had to accomplish in the next twenty-four hours I’d shatter. Save my brother, I told Raoul. You want to make some kind of sweet deal with me in return for that favor, I’m all about it. GO TO SLEEP.
I understood immediately. We operated on such different planes, communication was never easy. He couldn’t speak to me at length in my head without frying my synapses. I couldn’t visit him at home without dying first. If I left my body the Magistrate would pounce. My dreams were the happy middle ground. Okay. Give me a few minutes to wind things up here.
Bergman opened the door to Cole’s knock. He strolled in with a fake grin on his face. “Hey, Jaz, you’ll never guess what Cam and I found in that TV van you stole.”
Cam followed closely and Bergman shut the door gently behind them. They carried two portable cameras and a sheaf of papers Cole said were government taping permits. As soon as Cam heard the catch click behind him, the easygoing smile left his face. He set the camera he carried on the floor and walked over to where I stood, still half gazing out the window, trying to marshal my arguments for my next go-around with Raoul.
“You got any kind of plan that’s gonna save my commander’s life, I’m in,” he said flatly.
“It might call for some major acting skills,” I warned him.
“Part of the reason they chose us for this job is because we can blend in. Become anything but soldiers. You need me to prance across a stage wearing a tiara and tights, I can pull it off so convincingly the audience will be screaming for more by the end of the show.”
I swallowed a smile. “Well, it might be extreme, but you should be able to keep your pants on throughout.”
He nodded, the twinkle in his eyes letting me know his humor might be squelched, but it would never die.
“What about the rest of your team?” I asked.
“You can depend on them,” he said instantly.
“No. You can depend on them.” I looked him in the eyes. “I don’t trust Grace.”
“She’d die for David.”
“She’s as territorial as a bull moose. Think about it, Cam. Her commander is no longer fit to lead, only nobody can tell him that. So we’ve all got to make him think he’s in charge while somebody else calls the shots. Mission-wise, that somebody is Vayl. He’s still overseeing this job. He’s the one who’s responsible to take down the Wizard. But where David’s life is concerned, I’m the boss. I believe I know how to save him. I’ve begun that process. If
Grace has different ideas, her instinct will be to take the lead. I won’t allow that. You need to make her understand — if she can’t fall in line on this, I won’t argue. I won’t hesitate. I’ll just kill her.”
For just a second I let the veil lift, allowed him to see the cold-blooded murderess I kept hidden from my family, my crew, even myself most of the time. She’s not pretty or desirable. In fact, she’s so freaking scary my instinct is to keep her bound and gagged, locked in a sarcophagus, and buried in the deepest tomb I can find. But I need her. She keeps me and my country strong. As long as I keep her leashed. So far it’s worked out okay. But I know I’m playing with dynamite. I just hope I’m smart enough to exorcise her before she explodes.
Cam backed up a step, realized what he’d done and held his ground. He nodded crisply, his lips pressed into an uncharacteristically grim line. “Grace won’t be a problem.”
“Good.”
“I’ll spread the word.”
“As far as the Wizard is concerned, we will continue with the original plan,” Vayl told him. “However, Cassandra and Bergman have been assigned a new project. David will have to be kept from her when she is working. We would like your crew to make sure he does not suspect he is being separated from her deliberately.”
“No problem.” Cam looked at me, the concern so thick in his eyes it seemed to cloud every other thought. I could tell he wanted to ask if my strategy had a chance of working. But he’d been around too long, seen too much to believe I could give him a comforting answer. So he simply nodded, turned on his heel, and left.
When we were all alone in the room again, Bergman said in a small voice, “Would you really kill Grace?” I let the window curtain drop and fully faced my crew. I looked them each in the eye. Bergman, his thin shoulders hunched against every fear he’d ever felt or imagined, peered at me through the lenses of his glasses as if they could shield him from whatever reality I might throw at him. Cassandra, with her classic bone structure and clear dark skin, would never look more than twenty-eight. But the weight of centuries of pain and hardship had somehow given her the air of an ancient goddess. Cole gazed at me with a frank acceptance that could become addictive. Vayl stood at my shoulder, not touching me. And yet I felt the solid strength of his support. After having lost it, even briefly, I realized how much it meant to me. That scared me. But not enough to let it go.
I talked to Bergman, though my words were for everyone. “Yes, I’ll kill her if I think she’s a threat. I’d do the same if I thought anyone was a danger to any of you. I learned a hard lesson with my Helsingers. It’s not one I’m going to repeat. I won’t lose another crew member if there’s anything I can do to stop it. And I do mean anything.”
I suddenly imagined Raoul, waiting for me to dream as he lounged on his black leather recliner, overhearing my last words. “Hmm, anything?” He’d take a look at the list he’d made on the legal pad in his lap, jot a couple of notes, turn the page, and begin writing in earnest. Oh boy.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I can’t believe I can’t sleep!” I wanted to punch something. The glass and brick facade of the business I currently walked past seemed a likely candidate, its broad, dirty windows revealing an enormous black machine that looked to have been attacked by men wielding baseball bats. It seemed like a helluva plan, but Vayl’s hand, cool on my neck, deterred me from adding to the destruction.
“This is not helping.”
“I’m just so pissed off!”
He nodded. It had been a god-awful hour. You think your plan is marching along like a band in the field, all the sections moving to their appointed places at the appropriate times. Then somebody falls on his ass and the next thing you know there’s a clarinet player stuck in the sousaphone. I’d just settled into bed when Cole had come to me with a picture of Delir Kazimi, the house owner. He looked almost exactly like our Wizard photo. But there were differences. A sharpness to the nose and chin. An emptiness in the eyes. This guy I could believe was a three-headed god-worshipping terrorist. His address was in Saudi Arabia, so I went back to Vayl’s room and we called Pete to get the clearance to go after him. Since he couldn’t discuss the deal without his DOD cohorts chiming in, we hung up while he took fifteen minutes to find them. In the meantime I called Evie.
“Hello?” Well, she didn’t sound tearful.
“Evie?”
“Jaz? Where are you?”
“I’m in Germany. My company’s merging with a pharmaceutical firm over here. And when I had a chance to meet with some execs to explain our marketing techniques, I jumped at it. Dave’s on leave, so I’m actually hanging with him right now.”
“That’s wonderful! So you guys are getting along?”
“Pretty well. I mean, we haven’t talked about Jessie at all . . . ” I stopped. If Dave died with that matter still unsettled between us, I’d always regret it. I didn’t think I could ever make him understand I’d done what I had out of love for her. But maybe . . . “Evie, I’m so sorry you’re alone right now.”
“No, Tim and E.J. are here. It’s just, I was really worried about you when I couldn’t find you.” Now the tears. It seemed like every time I called my sister she ended up crying. How do you make up for that?
“I’m sorry.” Nope, that wouldn’t cut it. Try again. “Is there something I can do?”
“Come home.”
Oh crap.
“Not now,” Evie said, before I could even formulate a decent lie. “As soon as you can. I’ll take care of Dad until then. But here’s when I really need you. Easter is April fourteenth this year, and that’s when Tim and I are getting E.J. baptized. Dad should be well enough to go . . . ”
Or dead, we both thought, but neither one of us would say it.
“And I need you there with me.”
“Why?”
“You’re her godmother.”
“I am?”
“You said you would.”
“When?”
“When you were ten! Jaz, you promised!”
Oh my God, leave it to Evie to remember a vow I made fifteen years ago. It was probably during one of those rainy days when she’d forced me to play dolls. I could just see her, rocking her Betsy Burps Up while I sat on the floor beside her, looking longingly out the window at my limp and dripping basketball net.
“I’ll be the mommy and you’ll be the godmother just like when we’re grown-ups,” she would’ve said in her sweet little girl’s voice.
And I’d have said, “Yeah, okay.”
I switched the phone to my other ear and wondered how she couldn’t see what a horrible choice she’d made. But she was my sister, and I’d abide by her wishes even if it meant I had to grit my teeth through piano recitals and school plays and awards banquets until my fillings fell out. “Of course I did,” I agreed.
“And I’m honored.” Which I was, but she and Tim had better live to be a hundred. “And I’ll be there. I will. And I’ll tell Dave too. Maybe he can get away. Who knows?” I said brightly, although those last words tasted like ash on my tongue. In less than a month Evie and I might have buried our two closest male relatives.
No, nuh-uh, not if I have any say in this and, by God, I do. We will, every one of us Parkses, be there. Bitching about how uncomfortable our clothes are and feeling unworthy to be related to Evie and her precious bundle of bald, reflux-ridden joy.
I went on. “So now I feel horribly guilty for not asking right off, but how’s Albert?”
“His leg is broken in two places, and they were worried about his back. But it’s okay. He was wearing a helmet, thank God. You should see it. Anyway, he had a major concussion, so they’re really concerned about him. And the diabetes isn’t going to speed any healing. But he’s been awake a few times and they’re cautiously optimistic that he’ll be okay.”
“How does he look?”
She took a moment to think. “Shrunken. How does that happen, Jaz? He always seemed so huge to me. Like a T. rex just about to tear my he
ad off. And now he looks like a little old man. I think his hair has turned whiter in the past couple of days too.”
I pulled at my own strand of white and realized I’d either have to dye it or come up with an explanation for it. Maybe I’d just tell everybody it was a desperate cry for attention. Kinda like my belly ring, only visible.
“You know what might make him feel better?” I said. “A visit from one or two of his old Marine buddies. Why don’t I call Shelby and —”
“Not from Germany, you won’t,” said Evie. “I can’t imagine how much this is costing you. No, that’s an excellent idea, but I’ll make the calls. You just enjoy your time with Dave and make sure your little fanny is in my house on Easter Sunday. Got it?”
“Holy crap, you have turned into a bossy little Bertha!”
“I know.” She laughed. “It’s the mom in me. I think it’s only going to get worse too!”
Despite Albert’s precarious health, I actually felt okay when Evie and I hung up. Then Pete called. On the line with him were General Merle Danfer, our DOD liaison, and General Ethan “Bull” Kyle, commander of SOCOM.
“Gentlemen,” Vayl said, “we have good reason to believe our target has lured us into this situation.” He explained our suspicions without revealing who we thought the mole was. No sense in damning Dave until we had a way of saving him. “We believe the Wizard owns this house. Cole has faxed you his photo and address. We are trying to confirm his identity through his connection to the mole. If we can do that, we can continue the assignment as planned,” Vayl finished.
Pregnant pause, the kind that makes you uneasy because you thought everybody should’ve jumped right in and agreed with you from the start. “I think maybe you people have this all wrong,” said Danfer. “It seems to me the Wizard set you up, not to kill him, but so he could kill you.” Before we could poke any holes in his theory he rushed on. “He’s been on the run from our Spec Ops people for over a year. His mole has certainly let him know we’ve sent our best assassins to take him down. Nope. It looks to me like he’s just figured out a way to take the pressure off himself and make our military look like a duck trying to hump an emu. I say you continue with the assignment, only with the understanding that you’ll be walking into a trap and will therefore need to take the necessary precautions.”
Biting the Bullet Page 18
