Wages of Sin (A James Acton Thriller, #17) (James Acton Thrillers)

by J. Robert Kennedy

  She turned away, staring at her children pressed against the back door. Her shoulders slumped. “Last I saw him, he say he going to Florence’s house.”

  Ndlovu exchanged a slight smile with Reading. “Why?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  83

  Abandoned Mine

  Greater Kruger National Park, South Africa

  Courtney made her way to the mine entrance, it taking too long. The professor was right—she should remain outside, though being alone was never a state she had taken to, triggering feelings of abandonment and isolation that far too easily sent her into states of depression, or apparently, in this new situation, panic.

  A lifetime of nannies, drivers, maids and tutors had meant she barely had a minute alone.

  That was why she surrounded herself with friends, no matter how tenuous the connection might be.

  Like this trip.

  She thought she loved Dyson, though if she were honest with herself, she didn’t. He was her boy toy, someone to satisfy her carnal needs, someone to have on her arm when a plus-one was required, there a lot of that in her daddy’s life even before he turned to politics.

  He was a friend, she supposed, and she definitely had some sort of feelings for him. It had hurt when he was killed, but thoughts of never being with him again, or shattered future plans, had never crossed her mind.

  Only how she’d be blamed for bringing him, and how she’d now have to find someone else and train them.

  I really am awful!

  And Gina and Phil were hardly friends. They hadn’t even been the first she had invited on the trip. If she thought about it, she had invited half a dozen couples before finding someone to say yes. Her chest tightened slightly with a sudden realization. It wasn’t that these people had been busy, it was that they didn’t want to travel with her. Gina and Phil had agreed because they could never have afforded a trip like this on their own, and were probably willing to tolerate two weeks with her just to have the experience of a luxury safari vacation.

  Oh my God! I’ve got no friends!

  She thought back on her life, on her childhood, and how it was always playdates, arranged by her parents, the children under the watchful eye of a nanny while the adults discussed some charity or business venture, the playdates merely excuses to either pick her family’s pockets, or they their guests.

  She was a tool, used by her father to get what he wanted, or by others wanting something from him.

  Does Daddy even love me?

  Her eyes burned, then she shook away the thought, there no doubt in her mind he did. They spent plenty of time together when he wasn’t busy, and even went on outings together, outings he had no need to go on, with no one joining them to monopolize his time.

  No, he loved her.

  At least she had that.

  Even if she had no real friends.

  I need to change.

  But was it too late? She was a bitch, she knew it, though she had always thought that was one of the reasons people liked her. She’d treat those beneath her like shit, her friends would laugh, and they’d move on. Her money and name got them into all the best clubs, all the best parties, and invited to the exclusive sales with big name designers.

  Money talked.

  Though if she thought about it, her friends were merely using her as her daddy’s friends used him. They wanted something from her. They wanted that access to the exclusive clubs, the hot parties, the amazing designers.

  They weren’t real friends at all.

  They were leeches.

  And she deserved it.

  When she got home, she was pruning her friend list, no matter how painful it would be, even if it left her with no one on Facebook or Instagram.

  She was going to learn from this.

  Dyson was dead because of her arrogance, and if she had listened to the brave man now risking everything for the woman he loved, they never would have been driving that Jag, and they’d never have been involved in this situation.

  Will anyone ever love me enough to risk their life?

  She doubted it.

  A noise from inside the mine had her heart in her throat, and feet scrambling to return her to her hiding place, but it was too far. She dove behind a large rock then peered out from behind it to see the bastard who had killed Dyson emerge, dragging the woman she had disrespected.

  I’ve got to help her.

  She stared at the gun, the debate raging. She was a good shot. An excellent shot, but with a weapon she was familiar with, surrounded by family or those she felt superior to, there no pressure beyond making her daddy proud.

  Here she could miss and kill the woman.

  She couldn’t risk it.

  Instead, she was forced to watch helplessly as he climbed into one of their vehicles and started it, peeling away from the mine and out of sight.

  Now what do I do?

  She gasped, remembering the guards that had been at the other entrance. Her head spun toward it as she realized she would now be in plain sight, then breathed a sigh of relief, they no longer there.

  I wonder where they went.

  She ducked as several men emerged from the mine entrance with her friends and the black couple.

  Who are they?

  She flattened onto the ground, out of sight, wishing the professor would return to tell her what to do.

  Jimmy emerged into the sunlight, shielding his eyes for a moment, surveying the area for any hostiles, finding none. He paused. “Wait, weren’t there three vehicles when we went in?”

  Leather stepped toward the edge, peering down. “Yeah, somebody got away.”

  Jimmy shook his head. “Shit. And knowing our luck, they took Professor Palmer with them.” He activated his comm. “Control, One-Zero. We’ve recovered four hostages. Gina Davidson and Phillip Thicke, plus the two South Africans. We believe the Secretary’s daughter is with Professor Acton, over.”

  The reply was swift, and surprising. “One-Zero, Control. If that’s the case, then she’s about two hundred feet from your current location.”

  Jimmy’s eyebrows popped as he searched the area, still coming up empty. “We’re missing a vehicle out here. Are you sure she didn’t leave in it?”

  “Negative. One hostile left the area with who we now believe is Professor Palmer. We’re looking at the target that was with Professor Acton right now. She’s at your ten o’clock.”

  Jimmy did the mental math. “Are you saying there’re no more hostages inside?”

  “We still don’t have a twenty on Professor Acton. We presume he’s still inside, so watch your fire.”

  “Copy that.” He turned to Leather’s man. “Let them know Acton’s still in there. Anyone else is hostile.” Reese nodded, disappearing back inside as Jimmy began his way down the hillside, his eyes scanning the area where Control was certain their VIP was hiding.

  He came to a stop, holding his arms out. “Courtney Tasker! I’m an American soldier sent here by your father to find you. Please come out.”

  Nothing.

  And he didn’t blame her, not after what she’d probably been through. He wasn’t exactly in uniform, though he had to think he appeared less threatening than the poachers. He glanced at Leather, standing with the others.

  Though he doesn’t look very friendly.

  “Ma’am, please reveal yourself. There’s a drone overhead. We know exactly where you are. There’s no danger.”

  Again nothing.

  Then he remembered the briefing. “Your father said that his nickname for you is ‘peaches’.”

  A burst of tanned blonde erupted from behind a rock, about fifty feet away, rushing toward him, her arms extended as tears flowed down her cheeks.

  Shoulda started with that.

  Courtney slammed into the soldier, wrapping her arms around him, her shoulders racked with sobs as the pressures of the past day finally overwhelmed her, the tenuous hold she had maintained over her emotions instantly gone as any respon
sibility she had to keep things together was now lifted.

  They’re American!

  “Oh, thank God you’re here!”

  She felt the man pat her back, saying nothing, then she looked at the others as they descended the path carved into the cliff, reality demanding her attention once again. She pushed away, pointing toward the other entrance. “You have to help them! The professor, he’s still inside! And they took his wife! I don’t know where, but just a few minutes ago!”

  The soldier nodded, smiling gently. “Yes, we know. We’re tracking her now. And we’ll find Professor Acton, don’t worry.”

  Gina and Phil reached the ground and Courtney rushed toward them, hugging Gina hard as they all sobbed, Phil hugging them both, all the horrible things said, forgotten.

  “Thank God you’re both okay!” she cried.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Gina. “We thought you got away.”

  “I came with the professor.”

  “That’s insane! Why didn’t you just wait for help?”

  Courtney started to laugh, losing control. “He refused.” Then she shook uncontrollably. “My God, he’s so brave. He fought a lion!”

  “What?”

  “A lion! And so did I! I mean, I helped!” She lost all control as she looked at her friends. “I’m so sorry!” she cried.

  Gina’s forehead pressed against hers. “It’s not your fault.”

  “No, it is. I’m so sorry for the way I treated you. For the way I treated everybody. I promise I’m going to be a better person. No more bitchy Courtney, I promise.” She stared at Gina and Phil. “I really need friends right now. Real friends. Are we okay?”

  Gina wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tight. “I’m looking forward to the new Courtney. She sounds great.”

  Courtney smiled, closing her eyes, and sobbed.

  Niner stepped into the shadows, a single flashlight bouncing toward him. He knew it wasn’t any of his team—they wouldn’t be that stupid. But it could be the professor, though he couldn’t see him being that idiotic either, yet sometimes even the best-trained soldiers did stupid things, and no matter how well trained by Leather the Doc was, he could still mess up.

  That was why, when he plunged his knife into the man’s stomach, he was certain it wasn’t Acton, the silhouette of an AK-47 and his tall, gangly frame tipping him off.

  He twisted the blade, eliciting a moan as Niner slapped a hand over the man’s mouth, pushing him to the ground.

  A gun cocked behind him.

  “Don’t move.”

  Niner slowly rose, raising his hands.

  Shit.

  Acton emerged from the shadows and grabbed the weapon pointed at the silhouette, having decided it had to be a friendly. He shoved it up and out of the way as he plunged his knife deep into the man’s stomach several times, rapidly pushing and pulling it as he inflicted as much damage as he could, as quickly as he could, there no way to slit the man’s throat from behind as he struggled for the weapon.

  It was over as soon as it began, the man dropping to the ground with a groan, relinquishing his hold on the gun as he instead gripped his dripping innards.

  Acton felt his mouth fill with bile as his stomach churned.

  A flashlight shone on the body at his feet but he avoided looking at his handiwork. He had killed before, though not like this.

  It was disturbing.

  “You okay, Doc? You look a little green.”

  He swallowed, relief washing over him as he recognized the voice.

  Niner!

  He smiled. “Fancy meeting you here.” He handed Niner the gun then flicked his own flashlight on. He pointed at the body. “Looks like I saved your life again.”

  Niner stared at him. “Huh?”

  “Hanoi. That’s at least two times now, if I’m not mistaken.”

  Niner grunted. “I think I’ve saved your ass more than that, but who’s counting?”

  Acton followed Niner back the way the operator had come. “Not the same. It’s your job to save mine, not the other way around.”

  Atlas emerged from around a corner with Dawson, Acton feeling safe for the first time in what seemed forever. Handshakes were exchanged.

  “Good to see you, Doc,” rumbled the big man.

  “You too. Did you hear? I saved Niner’s life again.”

  Atlas laughed, Acton swearing the timbers shook from the vibration. “Of course you did. The little girly man needs all the help he can get.”

  Niner feigned a snap kick to the chestnuts. “Hey, I’ll have you know I was only moments away from saving myself.”

  “Sure you were.”

  Acton smiled. “I guess we’ll never know.”

  Another man, one that Acton recognized as a member of Laura’s security team, joined them. “Message from Control. Professor Acton’s still—” He paused. “Oh, hi, Professor, I see they found you.”

  “Yes, good to see you, Reese.” Acton stared past him, not sure what he expected to find. “My wife? I assume you have her?”

  Dawson shook his head. “She wasn’t with the others.”

  Reese cleared his throat. “Sorry, Professor. Control said one hostile escaped a few minutes ago. He had Professor Palmer with him.”

  All the hope and optimism Acton had been filled with drained as he bent over, hands on his knees.

  They still had her.

  And now they had no reason to keep her alive.

  He sucked in a deep breath and straightened. He looked at Dawson. “What the hell are we waiting for?”

  Dawson smiled slightly. “Nothing I can think of.”

  Acton marched past them. “Good, then let’s go get her!”

  84

  Belfast, South Africa

  Tladi cursed as they approached his hometown, killing their speed as to not attract attention. It was a sleepy place, there not much to do, and that meant too many idle eyes. He had no clue what had happened in the mine. There had been a gunshot, a cry from one of his men, then the stranger walking past them, his hand over his flashlight.

  Nothing else.

  But the fact his eyes, glued on the rearview mirror the entire way, had spotted no sign of his men, suggested something horrible had happened.

  And the bitch in the passenger seat was responsible.

  Because of her and her friends, his brother was dead. It was true they didn’t get along all the time, in fact, they rarely saw each other, it weeks, sometimes months between visits. He was to blame for that, never welcoming to him, Sipho a constant reminder of how he had failed in life, and what was possible with the upbringing provided by their mother.

  He was a success.

  Not rich by any means, but he had a good job, good pay, a humble though far nicer home than his troubled brother, and respect. On the rare occasions the two of them would go out together, people would come up to them and shake his brother’s hand, thanking him for some good deed he had done for them in the past, or simply saying hello.

  No one ever approached him.

  No one ever thanked him.

  The only reason he had a wife was because he had got her pregnant and the two mothers had got together to deal with the problem. His wife hated him, in fact, she feared him, but she was the poorest of the poor with nowhere to run. This wasn’t the big city where you could just move to the other side and never see each other. This was Belfast, a tiny hole of a town where everybody knew everybody, where everybody knew everyone’s business.

  He could sense the eyes on him, judging him. Word had probably already spread of his brother’s death, and now everyone would blame him despite there no possibility of anyone knowing he was involved.

  His chest tightened as he realized that was no longer true. If someone had arrived at the mine, and his men had talked, they’d be coming for him.

  They wouldn’t talk. They know I’d kill them.

  Yet they might. There was no loyalty out of kinship, only loyalty out of fear, a weak foundation if yo
u feared someone else even more.

  Prison in South Africa was a terrifying prospect, and his men definitely faced that if caught.

  Poachers were scum.

  He was scum.

  I wish I were more like my brother.

  He glanced at the white woman who had wisely kept her mouth shut the entire trip. It was a good thing. They hadn’t found any evidence of the gold, and she was now worthless to him. He’d as soon kill her now, but he had a price to exact from her, and he intended to collect. She had treated him like dirt, showing no respect, and talking to him like he was an idiot.

  And he was no idiot.

  But an idiot would go home, like he was doing now.

  He turned, there no point heading directly into the hands of the authorities who, if they weren’t already waiting for him, would be arriving shortly. He could shoot it out, go down in a blaze of glory, but right now he needed time to think, to figure a way out of this.

  If only Florence had known about the mine.

  Then Jacob would have remembered where it was, they would have gone, they would have either found the gold or not, then moved on with their lives. His brother would be alive, his men would be free, and he’d still have time to meet his buyer next week and unload the months of work accumulated in his shed.

  But she hadn’t known.

  And because of it, everything had gone to shit.

  It would have been easier on her, too.

  He glanced at the woman. “Do you think the gold was there?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  She sounded too certain for his liking. “Why?”

  “Because the story made no sense. The Kruger Gold is supposed to be worth as much as half a billion dollars. That’s an incredible amount. There’s no way it was buried on a single farm, then moved by a lone farmer to a mine, like Marius Erasmus’ grandmother described. The Kruger Gold either never existed, was moved to Europe and melted down like most think, or is still out there, somewhere.”

  “Then what were you looking for?”

  She shrugged. “A clue. We found some coins. Those coins proved that some Kruger minted coins did exist at the time. Most likely what was originally buried on that farm was part of the greater shipment. You can’t just move that much gold in a single go. You have to do it over time, in small batches. I think this was one of those.”