by Vicki Hinze
“Phoenix sent him for personal assurance Mandy Dixon knows nothing about NINA or you and to find out if you planned to interdict her or the Shadow Watchers in Seagrove Village.” Henry then accurately relayed the exact conversation between them.
He’d missed nothing. Satisfied with the verification, Jackal nodded. “Went fine, then.”
“Just as it always does.” Henry banked on that.
So did Jackal. He passed over a sealed envelope. “That’s why you make the big bucks.”
Henry took the envelope then tucked it out of sight in his pocket. “Yes, sir.”
Satisfied that everything was under control, Jackal let the tension holding him rigid ease. Posing as Jackal on the rare occasion was the easiest fifty thousand a pop Henry had earned in his life. Risky? Yes. But knowing that if he crossed Jackal he was a dead man kept Henry practical and discreet. Any risks, this side of his death, were acceptable. Only he knew why. And only he cared why. “Stay ten minutes after I’ve gone,” Jackal told Henry.
“Yes, sir.” Henry settled back on the bench, hooked a bent knee over his other one.
Jackal took the path to the parking lot, mentally reviewing everything even remotely attached to him to be sure all bases had been covered and Henry’s services wouldn’t be required for anything else, including taking any unforeseen fall.
By the time he reached his car, he’d finished his mental review. With careful deliberation, he checked his watch then hitched a hip against the rear fender of his car and surreptitiously watched the bench.
Henry sat as instructed with his back to Jackal, looking out at the water. Exactly thirty seconds after the watch check, the received signal was executed. Henry’s body jerked, and he slumped over the bench’s armrest.
Henry was dead before his head hit the wooden slats.
Regrettable, but necessary. Jackal didn’t dare risk using Henry again to pose as him. Not after a face-to-face with Paul Johnson. Any link between the two of them had to be permanently severed—and now it had been.
A lean runner made his way up the beach to the bench, snatched the envelope from Henry’s corpse with barely a missed step, and then ran on down the beach. Minutes later, he veered around and wound into the parking lot, passed off the envelope to Jackal, and then returned to the water’s edge and his run. When he neared the strip of beach near the bench, he jerked, stumbled, and fell to the sand.
Dead.
Loose ends all tied up. Jackal slid into his car. The shooter was efficient, a good hire. One who had never seen Jackal and one Jackal had never seen. The tie to the runner also had been severed. He was a low-level NINA operative. Minimal skills but willing to do anything. Men like him were a dime a dozen. Totally disposable. The important thing was no link remained between Jackal and Henry or the runner and the shooter.
None of them, including the NINA shooter, could identify Jackal. He was clear to go.
Mission accomplished.
He cranked his engine and drove out of the park, bent on putting a great deal of distance between it and him as quickly as possible. He hated killing men just for doing their jobs. Particularly when they did them efficiently. But with what he was about to do, he’d have to be a fool to leave anyone standing in his wake, and it’d take a fool to allow Henry or the runner to live, even with neither of them knowing Jackal’s real identity. Only a fool would underestimate NINA’s ability to get information where it seemed there was none and there should be none. Jackal was not a fool.
Three miles away, he pulled into a tourist trap and spotted a trashcan out front. He parked, pulled on a pair of gloves, removed his life-like mask, cranked open the car door and then doused the mask with bleach. It began melting, the features distorting into something horrific and grotesque. He dumped it into the trashcan, and then returned to his car.
Another five miles down the road, he spotted a second can outside a diner. He bleached then ditched the gloves, and then went inside and washed his hands. At the counter, he ordered a large black coffee to go. When the woman placed it on the counter, he paid her, and then returned to his car.
Jackal hadn’t survived and climbed the ranks of NINA while remaining anonymous by being foolish. Only one person ever had known of his connection to NINA and his true identity. Only one, and though he hated her for it, he’d married her to buy and keep her silence.
The dead tell no secrets.
They didn’t. He should have seen to her years ago. But she was the mother of his children. They hated him as much as she did, but they were his, nonetheless. Not that it much mattered anymore. After today, he wouldn’t see any of them again. Not in their lifetimes.
Not after Olivia’s death.
How long had his wife known about Liv? How long had his son and daughter known?
He’d been so careful that even NINA couldn’t identify him. All this time, and not one hint that they’d discovered the truth. Then they learn Olivia’s dead and Mandy exists and they lash out, threaten to blow his whole world apart.
That infuriated him. Almost beyond rational thought.
Memories of the merciless confrontation rammed through his mind, left his pulse pounding and his chest tight. They’d all turned on him. His princess, the son he’d given every opportunity anyone could hope to have, and they’d sided against him. The sting of their betrayal would be with him the rest of his life. Ungrateful spoiled brats. Everything. He’d given them everything, and they’d cursed him. Screamed in his face as if he were nothing. Nothing!
They had no idea how far he’d come. He’d had nothing and no one. He’d made his own way, created a dynasty for them, but did they appreciate anything? No. Not a thing. They acted as if the world was theirs by right. Idiots. They had no idea how to struggle or fight for what they wanted. He’d handed it to them, and they’d betrayed him. Well, they’d soon regret it. He was done. No more running interference for them with their mother. No more smoothing their paths, cleaning up their messes. A quick trip to the office to clean out his safe, and then he would retake control of his life.
Finally.
He wished Olivia could be with him to enjoy it. His regrets, if he had any, were about her.
His son had called Liv awful names. His wife had shouted worse ones, labeling her with vile monikers that were not true.
Don’t think about it. It’s futile. It’s over now. Let it go.
He pushed the ugly thoughts and images away. Everything was going to be fine. Jackal had prepared. He’d planned. And he was ready, willing and able to do now what no other NINA operative had ever done: retire.
Alone.
With the last links to NINA eliminated, it was time for Jackal to fall off the face of the planet and never resurface.
His blackmailing widow and ungrateful orphans would object that he wouldn’t be around to torment anymore, but once they settled into their new circumstances, they’d rejoice. At least, until the first time they landed in trouble. When he wasn’t there to bail them out, they’d be sorry. Then, he’d rejoice.
What about Mandy?
A spear of guilt shot through him. He shunned it. Once, Mandy would have done anything for his approval. But then she’d seen him on the street in St. Augustine and everything had changed.
Whether or not she hated him, he couldn’t be sure. But she’d never again hung on his every word or sought his approval on anything. Not once since then had she looked him straight in the face or said a single unnecessary word to him. Oh, she’d been polite, yes. No doubt Olivia demanded it. But since that day on the street when she’d seen him with his wife and their children, Mandy had remained distant. She’d never forgiven him.
Being the fallen hero had been inevitable with her, he supposed. Would it have made any difference if she’d known that even after his fall, she’d treated him better than his family?
Probably not. More likely, she’d be happy that he’d be as alone as she had been, or as she’d felt she’d been, her whole life.
Of cou
rse, she didn’t know the truth. Now, with her mother dead and buried, she never would. Maybe it was better that way. So far as she could ever know, he had two ungrateful children that wanted nothing to do with him, and one who wanted him until she didn’t.
Yeah, it was better that the truth stay buried and she continued to believe the fantasy they’d spun for her in lieu of the truth. So she’d wallow in a little self-pity at being alone. At some point in her life, she’d probably realize worse things could happen to a person. She could be stuck in a situation similar to the one he’d been in most of his adult life.
She hated feeling alone.
He couldn’t wait. Alone? He harrumphed. No, not alone. Free!
Smiling to himself, he cranked up the air-conditioner and then pulled out into traffic.
Chapter 7
Saturday, October 25 th
“Mandy?”
Half sitting on Mark Taylor’s sofa, Mandy awakened to the sound of Tim’s voice. She unfolded her elbow and cranked open an eye. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I’d dropped off.”
He smiled, looking gorgeous in dove-gray slacks and a teal golf shirt, and he smelled freshly showered. “About three hours ago.” He sat down beside her, sinking into the soft-brown leather. “Sorry to wake you, but we’re all due at the center for the meeting in about half an hour.”
“Thanks.” She shook sleep from her foggy mind.
“I brought you coffee.” He offered her a mug. “Shower’s available, if you’d like one.”
She took a steamy sip. Swallowed it. “I’d like one very much.”
“I wanted a minute to talk with you before we join the others.” Worry flickered through his eyes. “We don’t have time to tiptoe around anything, so I’m just going to talk straight—to be sure we’re on the same page.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Mandy said. Having more questions than answers about her own life already had worn thin. “And I’ll be just as direct.”
“I’m counting on that,” Tim told her. “Last night, I didn’t really ask you if you wanted to marry me, so I’m asking you now.” Red stained his neck and crept up his face. “Since you still love me, I assumed marrying me would be okay with you, but Joe pointed out that I came across as not giving you a choice, and you should have a choice. You do have a choice.”
How like Joe. “So you intend for this to be a real wedding?” Did she dare? Wanting something didn’t mean it was right or wise. It didn’t mean Jackal wouldn’t make good on his threat. The bride he’d marked for death could take all the rest of them with her.
“Totally legal, yes.”
Legal. Were legal and real the same thing in Tim’s eyes? “What about Jackal?”
“He’ll come for us either way, Mandy. The big question is you. Do you want to marry me knowing it?”
Either way. “Life’s full of risks,” she said, looking at him through the cup’s rising steam. “I tried, but I don’t work without you.”
His relief was immediate. It shone in every feature in his face. “I don't work without you, either, and I’m really tired of pretending I do.”
“I am so sorry I hurt you.” She cupped his jaw.
Joe appeared at the edge of the living room. “Tim? Hate to interrupt, but our sources picked up a transmission you’re going to want to hear.”
Tim stood up, looked at Mandy. “So you’re okay with this, right?”
She didn’t know much more now than she had before their brief conversation. Not really. A man not working without you didn’t mean he loved you or that he wanted a real marriage with you. Her mother’s life stood as proof of that. Mandy hesitated a second, then followed her heart. Jackal was coming for them either way. Together, they improved their odds against him. “Yes, I’m okay with this.”
That pleased Tim; he smiled. “Oh, with Nora and Annie, you tell them exactly what you want and who you want there. It’ll be short notice, but they’ll do all they can to make the wedding just right.”
“What do you want?”
Moving toward Joe, Tim paused and looked back at her over the slope of his shoulder. “I want you happy.”
“Are you happy?” The words were out of her mouth before she could check them.
“I am.” He paused. “Worried, but happy.”
She was getting there. It’d be easier to get closer to happy if she knew Jackal would fade away, but all of the guys insisted that he wouldn’t. They would know better than she, and yet she wondered. Since she had no idea who he was, why wouldn’t he disappear from their lives?
The answer immediately came to her. He wouldn’t fade away because he couldn’t. Jackal was NINA, and the team had cost NINA resources. Serious money and their reputation had taken serious hits. Terrorists relied on their reputation for recruiting and funding.
Yet, faded away or plagued by NINA in a life with Tim, she could be happy. Without him, she just wasn’t. When she cleared away the mind-clutter, with the way things currently stood, she’d probably max out at worried, but happy. Like Tim, but different, too. She could settle better, if only she knew whether or not Tim still loved her. He admitted still being bitter, but he hadn’t mentioned loving her.
A totally legal marriage.
Legal.
What was she supposed to make of that?
From the sidewalk, Crossroads Crisis Center didn’t look like a clinic, not with its warm-colored stones, welcoming entry, and lighted candles in every window.
Inside, other than the receptionist’s desk, it seemed more like walking into a welcoming parlor where people gathered and relaxed than a clinic for people in crisis seeking sanctuary. Soft colors and the absence of sharp edges appealed to Mandy, and the whole area smelled of fresh flowers. Not cloying or too sweet, just calm and soothing.
She spotted a large arrangement of irises and carnations, lilies and tulips, on a long, slim table below a portrait of a beautiful blond woman. Pausing, Mandy read the brass placket attached to its ornate frame. Susan Brandt.
Calculating the length of her life, Mandy’s chest went tight. She’d been close to her age. What a shame Susan Brandt had died so young.
Tim stepped up behind her and whispered, “Susan and Ben Brandt built the center. It was her dream. She passed away a couple years ago, right before it opened.
“She never got to see it finished?” Clearly, she had worked hard to get everything just the way she’d wanted it.
“No, she didn’t. But she planned every detail down to the candles in the windows.”
“How sad.” Mandy glanced back at Tim. “Not that she planned it but that she never got to see it finished, or to see the work that’s done here.” The center had made a world of difference in people’s lives.
“You know about the work?”
Mandy nodded. “Lisa told me a bit about it earlier. Impressive—the people and the place.”
“Susan would have loved what’s been accomplished. She was all about helping others. They all are. After she died, everyone was worried about Ben. He had a tough couple years.” Tim sighed. “Then Kelly came along. Theirs was a rocky start, but they helped each other. Now, they’re married and have a new daughter.” His voice turned tender. “They named her Susan in this Susan’s honor.”
“Kelly must be very secure in herself, to name her daughter after Ben’s first wife. Most women would feel threatened by that.”
“She’s been threatened by worse.” He looked away. “It’s a complicated situation, but Kelly is special.” Tim nodded at the portrait. “If you should see her, don’t be startled. A lot of people think Susan and Kelly favor, but they’re very different women. The longer you know them, the less they look alike. I’m not sure why.”
They even look alike? “That must have been really hard for her and Ben.”
Tim dropped his voice. “It was beyond hard. NINA was involved then, too.”
Surprise shot through Mandy. “NINA came after them?”
He nodded. “Oh, yeah.”
; “I’m so sorry.” Mandy winced. “But I have to say, I’m encouraged, too. If Ben, Kelly and Lisa survived their conflicts with NINA, maybe we can, too. We have reason to hope.”
“Everyone wasn’t as lucky. There were fatalities. But we do have reason to hope.” Tim gave her hand a little squeeze. “I need to tell you. It’s safe to speak openly to these people, but don’t mention Shadow Watchers. They know—well, a lot of them do, but we don’t talk about it.”
Each of the Shadow Watchers was free to tell only one person, though what they could say was limited. Tim had told her. The others had their chosen ones, but who they were, only they knew. The people in the center who knew, according to Tim, had discovered the truth about the former team still being connected as consultants due to attempted terrorist attacks in which they had been personally involved as targets or victims. “It’s safer not to say anything to anyone.” Mandy informed him of her position on his professional life. “You’re a private security consultant. That’s all I know.”
“Wise.” He agreed with a nod. “And nothing in that has to be reported.”
She’d figured out on her own that military Intel operatives never really retire. They just stop being active. But there’s no way to take the knowledge and secrets put into their heads out of their heads, which means they must remain aware of what’s going on even if they’re not officially active.
She could be off in her reasoning on that, but she didn’t believe she was. Tim and the guys had their own private security firm, but they still went up against NINA, and when they did, those had to be active, official missions. Whether the team was officially still active or occasional consultants for one of dozens of agencies tasked with such matters as Tim claimed, she had no idea. She considered asking him once to clarify, but then thought better of it. Some things were better left unsaid, not discussed, and frankly, left unknown. It was safer for Tim and for her.
