Travis Justice

by Colleen Shannon

  The Rangers had to have some idea of Kai’s infrastructure or their raid would be a disaster. Particularly how to disable the security system. Assuming he ever got out long enough to share the intel.... He fingered the little black book in his pocket. He’d taken to keeping the manifesto close, just in case.

  Wouldn’t the Texas Rangers love to get a copy of this little black book? Talk about MO right there in black and white.

  Ernie took his sandwich and chips with him. He nodded at the guard stationed in the front hall and stopped before the one stationed at the garage door. “I need to get in to fix Takeo’s bike. I promised him I’d fix it when I get a moment and I’m so busy training you all, I never have time. Couldn’t sleep, so might as well do it now. Kai approved it.”

  Kai had approved it, but not at 1:00 a.m.

  With those magical words, the guard used his code to open the garage door that led off the hallway. Ernie offered him half his sandwich. Looking a bit guilty, he took it and ripped away half of it in one large bite.

  He didn’t know Ernie had crushed two Xanax, which he’d filched from the infirmary area when he’d been binding up a wounded fighter, into the spicy mustard he’d spread on the French bread. If the man lost a finger . . . well, Ernie would feel guilty, but he knew the sort of boss he’d sworn loyalty to, and he knew Kai wouldn’t hesitate to kill any of them.

  Ernie tossed the other half, untouched, into a refuse bin. True to his promise, he got to work on the bike, using his acute sense of internal timing—since he didn’t have a watch—to gauge thirty minutes, which was about how long he expected the Xanax to fully work its way into the guard’s bloodstream.

  * * *

  Meanwhile, outside, Zach and Hana had zigzagged through trees and brush as much as they could to reach a corner of the exterior wrought-iron fencing that wasn’t lined by trees. Zach tossed a twig at the fence and heard an electrical fizz, so he knew the entire perimeter must be wired. Using a tiny pocket flashlight he held close to the ground, he walked the fence perimeter, looking for a sign of buried cable so they could disable the source of the electricity when the time came.

  He was so intent on what he was doing that it took him a second to realize Hana hadn’t followed him. Cursing under his breath, he moved to retrace his steps, but he knew with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was too late.

  Sure enough, as he regained the relative safety of a thick clump of bushes, he saw a light come on at the gate, which in the moonlight he could see some distance away. Guards dropped from trees at the far corners, and grouped around the tall, slim intruder.

  In the light, Hana was visible, her hands in the air as she was searched.

  Chapter 13

  Oblivious to danger, Ernie put the second part of his plan into action. He attached the small but powerful Hewlett-Packard calculator Kai had given him to keep track of his students’ match points to the keypad beside the door. He attached two improvised cables. He couldn’t afford any wounds on his hands, so he used a sharp screwdriver to pierce his own wrist, near his artery but just missing it. However, he pressed the small wound, hard, to make more blood come out until it dripped on the garage floor. He moved to the calculator, groaning as if in agony, loud enough for the men inside the control room to hear him, but not loud enough to escape the garage’s soundproofed walls.

  After a minute or two of his groaning, he heard the control-room interior alarm system ring with a series of beeps as a code was entered into a keypad. To his relief, his improvised encryption device worked. He saw a long series of numbers flash across the calculator screen. Hitting the memory button on the small device, he disengaged it, put it in his pocket, and moved back just as the door opened. Cradling his dripping wrist as if agonized, Ernie swayed slightly as a man he’d never seen before, who looked more like a Goth than a drug dealer, poked his head outside.

  “What the hell?”

  The man saw the blood and Ernie swaying, his eyes closed as if he were about to faint. Irritably, he looked toward the garage door leading into the house, but when no one came, he carefully closed the door behind him and approached. “What happened?”

  Ernie blubbered, “I cut myself. Bad. I need a first-aid kit. You got one?”

  The man looked at the blood on the end of the screwdriver on the floor. “You the martial-arts guy?”

  “Yes, but if I don’t get this patched up I won’t be able to work.” And as if in sudden panic: “Dear God, Kai will kill me.” He looked at the man. “Please, get me a kit. I need QuikClot. I’d go to the infirmary myself, but . . .” And then Ernie toppled to the floor, as if out cold.

  Looking mightily irritated, the man hurried outside, the door into the hallway slamming behind him.

  Ernie figured he had about three minutes and he didn’t waste a second.

  Reading off the security code on the small calculator memory pad, he punched the code into the keypad, praying they kept a skeleton crew of only one this late at night on the inside of the control room. Otherwise his ruse was for naught and he was probably dead.

  * * *

  At the gate, the senior guard on duty apparently recognized Hana. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had a deal with Kai and I’ve come to begin our exchange.”

  “How did you find us? You were blindfolded when we brought you here.”

  Hana shrugged. “I have a good sense of direction.”

  He still looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Where’s your vehicle?”

  “A dirt bike. I stashed it in the trees. Are you going to tell Kai I’m here? I demand to see Takeo before I give him the sword.”

  Looking a bit pale with dread even in the moonlight, the man snatched the radio at his belt and pressed the talk button. “Wake up Kai.”

  * * *

  Hidden behind the heavy shrubs, Zach was still close enough to hear the exchange. He saw more guards pouring into the glade where Hana stood, and he realized the sentries had all been called from their posts. They were clear, at least for a few minutes, to search. Ignoring the gut-wrenching fear binding his rib cage, he used the time she’d purchased for them by darting along the fence line until he found a transformer post on one corner. Shooting the exact location with his GPS range finder, he hurried back to see what was happening at the gate.

  When he saw the guard push his face into Hana’s, trying to intimidate her, he automatically reached for the pistol butt at his holster. Hana stood her ground, and he heard her say, “You can threaten me all you want, but this is Kai’s decision.”

  The guard gave a disgusted grunt, but then he punched a long code into the security-pad stand beside the road leading through the gate. The gate opened and Hana was shoved up the drive, her hands bound before her.

  Helpless to do anything but grind his teeth in frustration, Zach swore he’d beat her himself once he got her alone. The woman was a menace, dangerous just as his father warned. But she’d obviously planned this, and short of storming the gate, there was nothing he could do but wait.

  And pray . . .

  Then, checking his watch, he zigzagged back the way he’d come to meet his men at the van at the appointed time.

  * * *

  About the time Hana entered the gate, Ernie was ready to exit the control room, glad he’d put together this elaborate scheme that had, so far at least, worked flawlessly. The control room was empty, just as he’d hoped. He hadn’t touched anything, and since Kai had confiscated his cell phone, he had no way to take pictures. However, he understood surveillance systems about as well as safes, and he realized this was a monster.

  Monitors lined two walls. He counted rapidly: twenty. They had twenty different angles all over the perimeter. With a glance, he saw not one, but two backup systems. A main feed, a secondary one, and a last one, apparently wireless. He saw a satellite icon on the main control hub, a huge flat-screen display with an ergonomic chair in front of it. He realized that here was the master control center. Anyone who sat
here controlled the entire compound’s circuitry.

  Ernie knew his time was about up, so as much as he longed to keep investigating, he had to get the hell out of here. He was turning for the door when movement on the gate monitor caught his eye. He glanced that way and then froze, two steps from the door.

  Hana—oh my God. Walking with that lithe, easy stride as if she hadn’t a care in the world, she let herself be shoved up the drive toward the house.

  Instantly, Ernie knew she’d risked her life to check on him and Takeo. She’d been able to re-create her prior journey on her own, without his help, which didn’t surprise him. But she wasn’t wearing a sword . . . what the hell was she thinking? Without the katana to bargain with, what kind of leverage did she have?

  But he also knew he had little time to spare. He took a quick look around, trying to commit as much as he could to memory, keyed in the code on the pad beside the door, and exited. Once outside, with the door secure, he broke open his closing wound again, spreading blood on his gi. He staggered to the door and looked outside at the guard he’d drugged. He was still, inert against the wall, snoring peacefully. Ernie felt so guilty at what would happen to him that he held a gasoline-soaked rag under the man’s nostrils. He coughed, stirred, and sat up.

  “You’d better get back on your feet or you’ll be in big trouble,” Ernie warned. “You sick or something?” He held up his wound, cradling it with his free hand. “I yelled for help, but you didn’t hear me.”

  The guy looked at the few bread crumbs left from his sandwich, and back at Ernie. Ernie pretended not to notice the suspicion directed at him as he nursed his sore wrist.

  He’d retreated back inside the garage to sit weakly against the wall when Kai’s lieutenant entered. He bit back obviously harsh words and waved forward the guard who’d left the control room to get the first-aid kit. He eyed Ernie narrowly, pulling his wrist close without ceremony and turning it from side to side. He looked down at the sharp-edged screwdriver tipped with blood, sprawled next to the bike, then relaxed slightly.

  Glad he’d made the wound deep enough to look real, Ernie said weakly, “Thanks,” and tried to open the QuikClot kit with shaky hands. This time, it wasn’t an act. His heart was pounding so hard in fear for Hana and Takeo that his hands really were shaky. He was listening for Kai’s voice, because he knew Kai’s men wouldn’t act against Hana without direction.

  The lieutenant brushed Ernie’s hands away and applied the QuikClot for him. He gave it a quick, rough bandage and then he said, “Come with me. Kai has directed us to meet in the dining room. Hana Nakatomi has tried to break in to take back her son.”

  Wonderful. Ernie knew exactly why Kai wanted him there.

  This was a loyalty test.

  Kai would threaten Hana and see how her old friend would react.

  Genuinely a bit green about the gills this time, Ernie did as he was told.

  * * *

  Back at the van, one of the troopers was already there. With a prize. He had a short man, sporting gang tattoos on his neck, bound and gagged on the floor of the van. He was clad in camo. Zach was thrilled despite his fear for Hana. He gave his fellow law-enforcement pal a high five. “Good work!”

  “He jumped me from that big oak down the fence line. Almost slit my throat, but I’m bigger.” His grin showed white teeth as he looked down at his captive, who glared back. “And meaner.”

  The other trooper returned, holding what appeared to be a surveillance camera. “I figure the lab can pull this apart and tell us what we’re up against.”

  Again, Zach was impressed. He felt a bit guilty for the former opinion he’d voiced to his dad that Texas troopers were in general less impressive than active-duty personnel. “Brilliant.”

  They all looked at him expectantly, then inside the van and around the clearing.

  Zach’s smile faded. “She’s been captured. Or I should say, she surrendered.”

  They looked pissed. “So she is a plant for this asshole,” one of them griped.

  Zach searched the van and found her ankle bracelet, the backup battery steady red, sliced neatly and shoved under the backseat. “I don’t think so. Why would she have brought us straight here? She would have pretended she couldn’t find it. Besides, if she was conning us as a double, then Kai would know she was playing informant and he’d expect a tracker.” Zach’s voice went very quiet. “She removed this because she went in there hoping to see her son. You need to go back to HQ immediately and question this guy. And I mean put the screws to him, whatever you have to do to see if we can get some idea of the interior layout. Tell John Travis and Ross Sinclair I’m staying behind to observe. Send someone trained in stealth ops back to help me.”

  “How many?” the lead trooper asked.

  “Oh, just a few. Like . . . everyone.” Zach added somberly, “If we’re lucky, Kai will taunt her a bit and let her go. We just need to have transport for her when she gets out. And I’m not budging until I see her.”

  The troopers were not happy to leave him alone, he could tell that, but he was leading the op. And for the first time, Zach saw an advantage in being John Travis’s son. He suspected his colleagues cut him a bit more slack just because of who he was. He looked at the driver. “Can you re-create the trip and bring them back as quickly as possible?”

  The driver made an A-OK sign. “I’ve locked in the GPS.”

  Zach took one of the AR-15s from the weapons stash, along with several extra magazines and an armament belt to hold everything. He double-checked both his pistols, each fully loaded, and reached back to adjust his knife to the perfect throwing angle. Then he grinned, feeling alive for only the second time since he got back to Austin and gentility.

  The first time was his life-altering night with Hana. . . .

  He stepped back, closed the van door, and tapped it with his palm in the universal military sign of “good luck and safe journey.”

  Then, alone again, he turned back toward the place in the fence where an oak, ancient and sturdy, grew at the fence line. It had been previously occupied by the guard his trooper had captured, so Zach took his spot and used the elevation and his night-vision goggles to watch the entrances and exits.

  He’d barely positioned himself before he heard a radio crackle. He shimmied back down, following the sound to a pile of brush. He moved leaves and bramble aside, hearing a harsh spate of garbled Japanese. The radio had obviously been lost in the struggle. When no response came, the same words, more urgently, were repeated. Then silence. Zach picked up the long range, expensive two-way radio, both thrilled and dismayed.

  Thrilled because he could eavesdrop on what was happening inside. Anything in English, anyway.

  Dismayed because when the guard didn’t report in, they’d come looking for him.

  Zach melted quietly into the trees away from the fence, taking the radio with him.

  * * *

  Inside the dining room, Hana paced, waiting for Kai. She was too smart not to be scared, but also too smart to show it. She whirled toward the door when it opened. Kai’s right-hand man entered with Ernie close behind.

  Hana gasped at the blood spattered on him, but behind Kai’s man he gave her a broad wink and she relaxed. If anyone could make rattlesnake boots while in a den of vipers, it was Ernie. She felt such a rush of affection for him that she gave him a luminous smile. She was so happy he was OK. For now, at least . . . Kai’s lieutenant saw her reaction and turned toward Ernie suspiciously, but Ernie only fumbled for a chair and fell into it, nursing his bandaged wrist on the table before him.

  A second guard came in and whispered something to the lieutenant. He frowned and exited, reaching for the radio at his belt. “All posts, report in,” Hana heard him say in Japanese.

  When the door opened shortly after, Hana felt electricity in the air. She knew before she saw him that the great man had arrived. With his quiet power, Kai strode into the dining room. Kai was not tall, but he dominated almost any setting. As she l
ifted her chin, meeting his eyes directly, she wondered who’d win the power-of-persuasion battle if he ever competed with Zach. But she’d evaded Zach partly to avoid that eventuality, whether he understood it or not. Instinctively, she knew if these two met, a battle to the death would likely result.

  All these thoughts ran through the back of her mind as she stood still and let Kai study her with those flat, dark eyes.

  “Why are you here?” he finally asked, a hint of menace in his tone. “How did you find me without an escort? And where is the katana?”

  Hana smiled a smile that wasn’t mirthful. It was meant to taunt him right back. She saw from the flexing of his jaw that it worked. “One, I want to see my son to confirm he’s okay. Two, I’ve retained a goodly amount of my Zen training even if you haven’t. The eyes often betray you, so don’t use them to the exclusion of all else. Three, the katana is in my custody now. In a safe place. Did you really think I’d bring it to you without confirming Takeo is all right?“

  She watched for the play of emotions behind his wall, but found none. Time was when she knew every flicker of eyelash and twitch at his mouth. But now? It was over three months since she’d seen Kai. Was it her imagination, or were there a few lines in that handsome forehead? Kai wasn’t even thirty yet, but his lifestyle—to put it mildly—was very stressful, chosen or not. And his eyes, once alive with mirth, were dead and flat, like a shark’s. Or a snake’s.

  The charming young man who’d wooed and won her was dead. In his place was a murderous drug dealer, a monster who’d chosen for himself the apt symbol of a snarling dragon. Cold-blooded, rapacious, merciless.

  Takeo’s father.

  The irony didn’t escape her, and her own emotions were so heightened she had to force herself to listen to his response.

  “I don’t believe you have it. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve lied to me.”

  “Or you to me.” Hana had expected this. She pulled her cell phone from a hidden pocket in her bra they’d missed when they searched her. She showed Kai the time stamp on the close-up pictures she’d taken of the blade. The last one displayed the mon, or heraldic symbol of her family, the hawk in a circle, engraved on the haft of the blade. “The Travis family had it refurbished. It is . . . gorgeous.”