Evil Without a Face (Sweet Justice)

by Jordan Dane

  “This one goes first.”

  He had indicated Britney, and one of his men freed her from the cuffs. It took a while for the girl to realize that it wasn’t a good thing. Nikki watched in horror as the drama played out. Britney’s eyes grew wide and her face blanched. Her pitiable whimpers gave way to shrieks of panic when one of the men started to yank her by the scruff of her neck toward the set of double doors at the end of the corridor. Beyond that, Nikki had no idea what lay in store for Britney, who managed to dig in her heels and drag her feet, flailing her thin arms.

  “No…please…stop!” she screamed, reaching out and grabbing Nikki’s arm, forcing another man to pry her fingers free, but not before Britney drew blood.

  “Ahh.” Nikki pulled her arm away and clutched her scratched skin, not taking her eyes off Britney. “Sorry…I can’t—”

  The girl’s body writhed in frenzy, fighting back against the man who held her. Her face had reddened and twisted into a mix of venom and sheer terror when she saw Nikki couldn’t help.

  Speaking to the Russian, the girl cried, “Why me? Why not one of them?” The kid would do and say anything to save herself, and her fear spread like a contagion.

  “What about you?” The Russian grinned at Nikki, then at the other girl. “Would either of you go in her place?”

  His offer shocked her. Nikki sucked air into her lungs and held it in, and when she didn’t speak up, the man laughed. “I thought so.”

  The Russian bent down and poked Nikki’s chin, a mean jab of his finger.

  “You see how it is? Here, there are no friends.” He narrowed his eyes. “She would kill you herself if she thought it would do her good.” He pointed at Britney. “That one is no saint.”

  Two men hauled Britney away, kicking and screaming. Her cries echoed down the corridor, magnifying the horror. Seeing it happen had gripped Nikki hard, but knowing she had a chance to step in and didn’t do it ripped something from her soul. And she couldn’t live with that.

  “Take me instead,” she blurted, surprising herself. “I’ll go in her place.”

  She said it loud enough for everyone to hear. The words came from her mouth as if someone else had spoken them. Down the hall, the two men holding Britney stopped and turned. And for a brief moment the girl quit crying and looked over her shoulder, tears streaking her face.

  Nikki exhaled and waited for the Russian’s answer. The man squared his shoulder and raised his chin, looking surprised. Eventually, he glared at her.

  “Too late. You had your chance to save her.” He jutted his chin to the two men down the hall—the equivalent of an order—and they continued their trek to the double doors with Britney in tow.

  “Nooo,” the girl hollered. “She said she’d take my place. stop!”

  “It’s not too late,” Nikki pleaded. “Please.” She made a step toward the Russian, lugging the handcuffed girl with her.

  “What are you doing?” the young girl next to her protested. “Are you crazy?”

  Two men held Nikki back, as if she posed a threat, but down the hall Britney wailed—a gut-wrenching and pitiable sound. Now Nikki could barely breathe. Her heart hammered inside her chest, an incessant and frantic pulse. Once they dragged Britney beyond the double doors, Nikki only heard her muffled screams until they faded to nothing. Dead silence.

  And just like that, she was gone. The finality of it left Nikki drained—and sick. Slowly, she looked up into the malicious eyes of the Russian. She knew he’d been watching her, and as expected, the bastard stared back with smug amusement.

  “I said I’d take her place. Why would you offer that if you had no intention of letting it happen?” she asked. “That was beyond cruel.”

  He let a moment pass before he replied.

  “Frankly, I didn’t think you’d do it, but I have a whole new appreciation for your stupidity.” He stepped closer and whispered, “I have found that people only disappoint. They are not worth a sacrifice of any kind, but how would you know this? You are only a foolish girl.”

  He stepped back and grimaced, an expression that became a humorless smirk. “Besides, I have plans for you.”

  With his men still holding her arms, he tapped a finger to the tip of her nose, a humiliating and dismissive gesture. “You will learn a new definition for the word ‘cruel.’ I will teach you this, yes?”

  Bile rose hot in Nikki’s belly as she fought for control. She clenched her teeth and blinked back tears, searching her mind for something to express the depth of her outrage, but nothing would come.

  “I wouldn’t want you to feel left out,” the Russian added, measuring his hostile glare equally between the girls. “You will know exactly what happened to that girl.” He smirked and with a wink muttered, “I will see to it…personally.”

  Before Nikki could say anything more, she was manhandled down another corridor with the other girl, who looked numb and in shock. Behind another set of double doors, they would wait their turn—to find out what Britney already knew.

  Nikki had always heard people say that “not knowing was the worst,” but she had a feeling that in this case they’d be wrong.

  Downtown Chicago

  Early morning

  “I don’t know where you got these extra pages, but you really scored, girl.”

  On her cell phone, Alexa recognized the voice of Tanya Spencer, an analyst she’d worked with on other assignments and trusted with her personal investigation of Globe Harvest. She’d met the black woman a handful of times and was always impressed by her intelligence, but her molasses thick southern accent and familiar tone made Tanya feel more like a friend.

  “So tell me, what do I win?” Alexa grinned. “A trip to the Bahamas?”

  “Damn, I’d like to score me some of that. I could use a little R and R myself.” Tanya sighed into the phone. “But you and me have to settle for the big picture, honey. You added fifteen more locales to the grand scheme of things. We had a couple of bogus locations, but the rest look viable. I’d say that was good work.”

  After she left the bounty hunter’s apartment, she’d sent the pages to Tanya in an encrypted file that she launched off her laptop into cyberspace. Wound too tight to catch some z’s, she found herself at a twenty-four-hour café drinking way too much coffee and reading an old newspaper. She’d been bored out of her skull until Tanya called with her rushed analysis.

  “Bogus locations?” Alexa asked. “How do you know that?”

  “My guess is they were input errors,” Tanya offered. “When we did further checking to verify the information, a couple of coordinates didn’t pan out. One was smack dab in the middle of an ocean, and another one was too remote for the operational needs of our target. We did some homework with satellite surveillance on that one, as I recall. But when we pay a call, you know we like the advantage in our favor. We don’t mess with second best. It’s not worth the effort or the risk. And you know how partial we are to the word ‘discreet.’”

  Even though they spoke on a high-tech encrypted phone, Tanya never used names and was always careful not to say anything that would divulge classified information.

  “But cheer up,” the woman continued. “We’ve got plenty on our plate. You done good, baby girl.”

  Added to the few locales she had before, Alexa had now identified a total of eighteen facilities to look at. A major hit list. Coordinating a simultaneous assault on that many locations would constitute a significant operation. She’d have to involve Garrett now, and convince him that her Globe Harvest investigation was worthy of his attention.

  The thrill of the hunt always stirred her blood, and with what she’d learned, Alexa could barely contain herself. Her hard work and perseverance was about to pay off, thanks to the help of Jessica Beckett, a local yokel with plenty of grit.

  “I’ll take it from here. Thanks for—” Before she could finish, Tanya interrupted her.

  “The order’s been given. I’ve already provided the coordinates to the man hims
elf. He said to give your work top priority—as if I wouldn’t do that anyway. Didn’t you know all this? He made it seem like you did.”

  “Yeah, well…we don’t always speak the same lingo, you know what I mean?” Alexa hated to look like she was out of the loop on such a big op. Since Tanya always referred to Garrett Wheeler as “the man,” it didn’t take much to put the pieces of the puzzle together, but was he trying to cut her out of the action? Anger roiled in the pit of her stomach until Tanya defused it.

  “He told me to tell you he was coming to pick you up in two hours and that you’d know where to meet him.” The woman heaved another sigh. “I sure hope you know what he’s talkin’ ’bout, ’cause I don’t want to get in the middle of this.”

  Alexa looked at her watch. She had no time to lose. Fumbling in her pocket for money, she paid the bill and gulped down the last of her lukewarm coffee. Two hours would barely be enough time for her to pack, check out of her hotel, and meet Garrett at the private hangar he used at O’Hare. His jet would be arriving soon.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got his number.”

  “Uh-huh…I bet you do, honey.”

  She heard the sarcasm in the woman’s tone and had to smile. “Thanks for pushing on this one, T.”

  Alexa ended the call, flooded by a mix of relief and frustration. Garrett had intervened and taken over. On the one hand, she was happy that he’d finally seen the light on Globe Harvest. Blood had been spilled on this one, and she’d nearly gotten blown into hamburger meat. She knew her investigation had merit. But on the other hand, Garrett always had his own agenda, and she was never quite sure she trusted his motives when it came to the Sentinels.

  Before now, he’d all but dismissed her case against Globe Harvest, refusing to utilize the vast resources at his disposal. Yet overnight it had become his top priority. Why?

  “What are you up to, Garrett?”

  She headed for the café door, making a mental list of what she’d need to bring on this trip. But someone important deserved a bone tossed her way—Jessica’s words. Making a heads-up phone call to the bounty hunter felt like the right thing to do. And in Alexa’s world, the “right thing” wasn’t always clear-cut. Garrett would have no appreciation for her gesture, but she didn’t care. Because of Jessica Beckett’s help, she’d get a chance at taking down Globe Harvest.

  A phone call was the least she could do.

  Marriott Hotel

  Oak Brook, Chicago

  Early morning

  Last night, rain on the window might have been magic, but in the light of morning the dresser mirror sure wasn’t. The same old face stared back as she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to straighten her disheveled appearance. She had stopped finger-combing her hair when reality bitch-slapped her across the cheek. She’d taken a good long look at her reflection and in the unyielding light of day the magic of last night vanished like a bright gold coin snatched away by a slight-of-hand parlor trick.

  “Hey, remember me?” she muttered to herself, but stopped when she glimpsed something else in the mirror—Payton.

  Bare chest and wearing his pajama bottoms, he was still asleep in bed, lying flat on his belly with his sun-streaked hair against tanned skin. Wrapped in white hotel bed linens, he looked like a Christmas present, all shiny and new. That thought made her smile until she remembered last night. In Payton’s arms, she had nearly forgotten who she really was. For a brief time she had allowed herself to feel…normal. But that simply wasn’t so, and she had to remember.

  The reality of the woman she’d become was plain to see—as immutable as the scars on her face and body. Years ago she had refused to have them removed. Plastic surgery would only improve the outside, denying the person she had to contend with on the inside. She explained it to Sam once, but not many would understand her way of dealing with the past—penance for what she’d done and what had been done to her.

  She endured the scars of her past with a fierce determination to protect faceless others from what happened to her. If she’d “fixed” the scars, her outward appearance would have been more tolerable to others, but screw them. If others chose to judge her book by its cover, then so be it. As far as she was concerned, her scars served as fair warning, like the Hazardous to Your Health label on a pack of cigarettes. It hadn’t been easy to live this way, but in her mind it had a ring of honesty to it. And she could live with that.

  “Good morning. Did you sleep okay?” His gravelly morning voice jostled the insides of her stomach—in a very good way.

  She looked at herself in the mirror one last time, forced a smile, then turned around. The pale glow of morning shone through the window, casting a welcoming light on him like a long-awaited invitation.

  “Yeah, I did. Thanks.” She cleared her throat and avoided his eyes. “Maybe coming here wasn’t the best idea I ever had, but it’s a new day and we can start over.”

  “What are you saying?” he asked.

  Payton shoved the sheets aside and sat up, staking out his own corner of the mattress. Jess didn’t know where she was heading with this, but she felt the need to galvanize her heart before it was too late.

  “I mean, Nikki is out there and I think we both have to believe we’ll find her…so maybe we should focus on that for now.”

  Payton narrowed his eyes and thought about what she’d said, letting silence build an awkward obstacle between them. Jess watched his reflection in the mirror, her way of distancing herself. Nibbling the inside corner of her lip, she had no idea what he was about to say, and waiting for him to do it was making her miserable with regret…and expectation.

  “Jessie, I thought we—” He stopped and fixed his eyes on her through the mirror. “I agree Nikki should be the focus, but searching for her is not the only thing between us.”

  “I’m just saying we have a clear priority here, that’s all.” She wanted to distract him from the personal connection they had made last night. In the long run, it would be best for him. “For you and your sister, it’s important to keep hope alive and give it all your energy.”

  She coaxed another smile and went on.

  “Until you know for sure, you should hold onto the hope that you’ll find Nikki alive, Payton. Hope can get you through some pretty tough times.” She reached for his hand and clutched it. “Believe me…I know.”

  With her touch, he looked into her eyes and listened. Jess searched her heart for what to say next, but what she found completely overwhelmed her.

  “The thing is, Nikki made a mistake. She trusted the wrong person and believed what they told her. But a kid’s mistake isn’t supposed to be a death sentence, damn it. This wasn’t her fault. And when we find her, she’s gonna need a lot of help to recover, Payton. She’s gonna have an uphill battle each day. It angers me when I—”

  She stopped herself, stifling the rage. Nikki’s plight had hit far too close to home. And the urge to tell Payton what had happened to her felt like floodgates opening, the force of water not to be denied.

  “When I was a kid, I was taken from my mother. I was too young to remember all the details of that day, but I do recall images, you know?” She swallowed and edged closer to him on the bed, shoulder-to-shoulder. His warmth gave her the courage she needed to continue.

  “A bright sunny day. Fall colors. And a woman’s smiling face, playing with me at a park. She must have been my mother. They were the last happy images I remember, and I’m not entirely sure if they were…real. I just know that they’ve stayed with me even after all that happened. I guess they were real.” She nodded. “Truth is, I need to believe they were.”

  Jess always pictured vague fragments of a woman’s face and wondered who had meant so much to her that she recalled her face even now. Over the years, she had clung to the belief that the woman had been her mother, but the truth was that she really didn’t know.

  “Wait a minute. You mean you never got to see your mother again?”

  “No.” Jess shook her head.
“The police never found her. I became a ward of the state.”

  With all the effort the police had put into finding her family, it was surprising that no one ever claimed her. That weighed heavy on her mind over the years—and still did, if she were being honest.

  “I’m so sorry, Jessie.” He squeezed her hand.

  She fixed her eyes on Payton, surprising herself with how easy it had been to open up to him. “But the man who took me left me with plenty to remember him by, as if I would ever forget what he did to me…and the others.”

  “There were others?”

  His question reminded her that the truth about her life was ugly—gnarled and twisted like a destructive and malignant tumor leaching life from the living. No one wanted or needed to hear about it. And the last thing she wanted to do was rob Payton and his sister of hope. Hope made for a terrible first casualty, and she had no intention of adding to their misery.

  “I shouldn’t be telling you this. Not now. I only brought it up to say that I made it through and Nikki can too.” She tried to pull away, but he stopped her.

  “I don’t know who did this to you, but I hate the sorry bastard. I’d sure as hell like to beat the crap out of him.”

  Men always thought they could fix things with their fists, but underneath his anger, she knew Payton only wished he could have protected her from a lifetime of pain.

  “You’d be too late. Cops shot him the day he got caught. He’s dead, but picturing you beating the crap out of him still works for me. Thanks.”

  She wielded her sarcasm like a shield, unable to bring herself to tell him more. She had blocked much of her degradation from her mind, mercifully banished into the oblivion of time and distance. And there were things in her memory that no one would ever know. Things she hadn’t even told Sam. But as she saw it, nothing would be gained if she continued.

  “If I tell you much more of what happened to me, it won’t be any comfort to you. And that’s not my intention. I just wanted you to know that it’s not in my nature to give up, and I get the feeling you’re the same. We can’t give up on Nikki.” She let go of his hand and pulled away. “I’m sorry. I thought I could talk about what happened to me, maybe give you a pep talk, but…I can’t.”