Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers

by Diane Capri

  “Law-yer!”

  The colonel slammed his hand on the desk.

  “You’re a damned terrorist, that’s what you are. So you’re not in any position to make demands.”

  Another officer entered the room, bent down and whispered into Braun’s ear. The colonel got up and slammed the door behind him.

  The client had made it clear that if Yuri failed to deliver, there would be—what was the expression?—hell to pay. He took it to mean something really awful, probably worse than incarceration on terrorism charges. Perhaps it was better to stay under the protective custody of the United States government.

  After a long wait Colonel Braun returned with a man in a black suit who introduced himself as Assistant Director Neal Walker of the Central Intelligence Agency. To Yuri’s surprise, he handed over the suitcase.

  “You’re to continue on your mission,” he said.

  How could this be? Not that Yuri was about to question it. But the colonel looked really pissed off at the CIA guy.

  “What in hell are you—”

  The CIA guy held up a hand and continued to address Yuri as if the colonel hadn’t said a word.

  “And you have the apologies of the United States of America for nearly compromising your mission.”

  “Uh...well, it’s okay, mistakes happen.”

  “We take these matters seriously, Mister Kosolupov—”

  “Then why the hell weren’t we informed?” Braun said.

  “This is highly classified, Colonel,” Walker said. “The storm threw our operative’s schedule off, we lost track of him, and he missed a check point. We’d have contacted you sooner if we knew where he was. Fortunately, the Coast Guard picked him up and your office contacted us. Your assistance is most appreciated.”

  “Gentleman, may I go now?” Yuri said, edging toward the door. Walker glanced at Colonel Braun.

  “Unless you have any objections?”

  “I still maintain that he’s a terrorist,” Braun said.

  “Colonel, does the name Stanislav Lunev mean anything to you?” Walker asked.

  “Soviet intelligence defector, yes.”

  “Not just any defector—he was the highest ranking GRU member ever to defect. His claim that Soviet suitcase nukes had already been deployed in the U.S. was true. Our man here is posing as an eastern bloc arms dealer, helping us flush out potential threats to national security. At the same time, he’s taking discovered devices to classified sites for deactivation and analysis.” Walker turned to Yuri. “How’s that going?”

  Incredible luck, but what should he say?

  “I’m glad to be back on track, sir.”

  Walker returned his sharp gaze to Colonel Braun.

  “Satisfied?”

  “Marginally.”

  Eyes narrowed, Braun moved aside, giving Yuri a wide berth. Still incredulous at his luck, Yuri was escorted out of the building by a pair of black-suited men who handed him his wallet, cell phone, fake passports, everything.

  “Thank you for your hospitality, Colonel.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  AS SHE FELL, THE RAGGED WOMAN neither screamed nor let out any other sound. The laws of physics would try, convict, and sentence her to a watery grave. The angel laws, on the other hand…

  Casting discretion aside, Nick flew down, wrapped his arms around her, and whisked her back to the shoulder of the Coronado Bridge’s island-bound right lane.

  Astonished, she opened her eyes, and tried to form a sentence.

  “What...Who are you? I thought...”

  Nick released her and stepped back, still holding her trembling shoulders.

  “Easy there.”

  “Where did you come from!”

  Nick projected the construct of a parked BMW pulled over in the outermost lane. Over his form, he’d constructed a casual pewter-colored jacket over a black T-shirt and a pair of Calvins—zeitgeist and all that rot.

  “You’re safe now,” he said. But she shrugged free and tried to shove him out of her path.

  “You had no right!”

  “I just saved your life.”

  “You have no idea—why couldn’t you just mind your own business?” She headed back to the edge, slapping Nick’s arm away when he reached out to stop her. But when she got there, instead of making another attempt to jump she leaned against the lamp post, covered her face, and began to cry. Or laugh, it was hard to tell.

  He got close. Another good look at her might shed some light on why he’d suddenly decided to jeopardize his career by saving her.

  “It figures I would lose it.” She felt around her neck.

  “Lose what?”

  “The jade pendant my father gave me when I was little. He got it from the Forbidden City in Beijing.” She looked up, blew a tangle of hair away from her mouth. “Probably worth more than my life.”

  “Are you all right?” Nick said.

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I just tried to jump from the Coronado Bridge, also known as the third deadliest suicide bridge in the nation.”

  “How’d you get up here? There aren’t any pedestrian paths.”

  “For a twenty-dollar tip, cabbies don’t mind dropping you off wherever you want, no questions asked.”

  “Hmmm.” He gave her a head to toe once-over.

  She too looked at herself, her tattered clothes and grimy hands, which she wiped on her pants.

  “Yeah, well...I figured blowing my life savings on a cab ride to end my life had a poetic ring to it.”

  “Are you going try jumping again, or shall I tie you up?”

  “I don’t think so.” She let out a long breath. “Not tonight, anyway.”

  Following her lead, Nick exhaled—a most satisfying feeling when occupying a physical form.

  “Come, now. It can’t be as bad as all that.”

  “How would you know?”

  “Tell me.”

  She stared wordlessly at him for a good three seconds.

  “No.”

  “Why not?” he said.

  “I’m tired.” True enough. Weariness tinged her voice.

  “Of course.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t think I could spend another night in the shelter.”

  “Say no more.” He gestured to his construct-BMW, gently took her arm, and led her to the passenger side door, which he opened for her.

  “A gentleman, no less. What are you, from the last millennium?”

  He couldn’t help smirking.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  JON NEARLY LOST HIS BALANCE when he entered Maria’s hotel room with her lips firmly pressed against his. In the process of steadying himself his left foot hit the door with enough force to shut it.

  He found himself suddenly short of breath, his heart racing, his mind in torment. He’d only meant to accompany her to her room for safety’s sake. Now every nerve, every cell in his body screamed, Do what’s natural. It’s the way God created you. You want this. You deserve this!

  Maria leaned back and met his eyes.

  “What’s the matter, Jon?”

  “Nothing, I just...” This was pathetic. He could never do this. It wasn’t fair to Elaine, it wasn’t fair to Maria. It was wrong.

  “Maria, I’m really sorry that I...” A sudden wave of regret warmed his face, ears, neck.

  “It’s okay,” Maria said. “We’re just two people in need. Two consenting adults.”

  Knowing better, Jon turned toward the door. From behind she pressed her warm body against his back.

  Pain filled his heart.

  Pangs of guilt wrung from the agony of going too far, only to deny the release of the fire he had so foolishly kindled.

  No one will ever know...

  That voice, those words—he recognized them. They weren’t completely his words. He had slipped into a state of elective moral blindness, but now that he could discern that inner voice intermingled with his own he was able to squeeze his eyes shut and pray.

  Dear G
od, forgive me...

  // COWARD! YOU’VE GOT A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG WOMAN STANDING BEFORE YOU! DO WHAT FEELS RIGHT! //

  “Jon? Don’t worry, okay? It’s just for tonight. Nothing more.” Maria smiled—which further eroded his defenses. “I’m a big girl and I won’t be coming around messing up your life. One night, then I’ll love you from a distance. I promise. No strings attached.”

  // SHE’S YOURS //

  Give me strength, Lord.

  He turned and gently pushed away.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh.” A torturous pause. “I see.”

  Jon mustered the courage to meet her eyes.

  “This was entirely my fault. Whatever problems I might be having with my wife, this is wrong.”

  She was trying not to cry, but he could imagine how humiliating it must be for her to put herself out there only to be rejected.

  “You’re right, you’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking.” She sighed. Her shoulders fell. Finally she looked up and put her hand on his face tenderly. “You’re such a good man. I don’t deserve you.”

  “Don’t say that, you really—”

  She pulled him close and pressed her lips against his desperately.

  For the first two seconds, the shock disoriented him.

  For the next two, he couldn’t bring himself to resist.

  And for the final two seconds, he fought his emotions and hormones until, with a gasp, he freed himself. Her face was still lifted, lips parted, eyes shut.

  “Just a goodbye kiss,” she said. “Not sorry about that.”

  “I’ve got to go,” Jon said when he could control his breathing enough to get the words out.

  It was just a kiss.

  He almost laughed out loud at the sheer lameness of the thought as he opened the door.

  “Pray for me, Jon.”

  He allowed himself a brief moment of light-heartedness and smiled as if defeated by an admired opponent.

  “I’m the one who needs prayer.”

  “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “No need,” he said. “Goodbye, Maria.”

  #

  As he double-timed on the carpet in the empty hallway, Jon knew he’d crossed a bridge he should never have approached. And in the process lost the right to think of himself as Elaine’s victim.

  It was too late for that now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  FOR THE ENTIRE DRIVE NICK PONDERED what he had just done. The last time anything like this happened was back in England a century ago. Hadn’t he learned from that?

  Apparently not.

  The subject had fallen asleep slumped down in her seat by the time they arrived at the Broadmore Hotel in La Jolla. The clock on the dashboard read 3:35 AM. The streets were desolate. At this unholy hour no concierge was on duty, so he constructed one to come to the passenger door.

  Nick nudged the subject gently until she awoke with a start.

  “We’re here.” He nodded at the window.

  A handsome young man wearing a white shirt and black pants opened the door for her. She lowered her face, embarrassed by her state of disarray. Nick walked around to help her out, while the concierge stepped back.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I feel like such a lady.”

  Nick nodded to the concierge. “Checking in.”

  “Yes, sir.” The concierge shut the passenger door, got into the driver’s seat, and drove the construct-car off into oblivion.

  When they got to the front desk, the subject stood behind him as though hiding. Nick gently lowered his palm on the chrome-domed bell so as not to ring it too loudly. A bleary-eyed young man, probably an undergrad at UCSD, emerged rubbing his eyes but smiling as best he could.

  “May I help you?”

  “A room, please.”

  “For two?”

  “Just her.”

  “Name?”

  Nick turned around. She straightened and pushed the messy locks of hair from her face.

  “Matheson. But there’s no way I can afford—”

  “Not a problem.” Nick turned back to the desk clerk. “Matheson.”

  “First name?”

  This time Nick asked with his eyes only. She sighed and looked straight at him.

  “Hope.” She smiled. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

  “I think it’s lovely.”

  He handed a gold Amex card to the desk clerk.

  “Not sure how long she’ll be staying, so keep this on file for any and all incidentals.”

  “All?”

  “I’ve got an astronomic credit limit.” More like cosmic. “She’ll stay here until we can find her something more permanent. Anything she needs, just charge it to the card.”

  The clerk ran the card while Nick’s construct caused it to interface in a way that ensured the hotel would be paid. Then he signed.

  “Welcome to the Broadmore.” The clerk gave him the room’s key card, which Nick handed to Hope.

  “Suite 310.” She took the key and walked toward the elevator. “You really shouldn’t have done this, but I guess there’s no point in saying it.”

  “None whatsoever. Go and get some rest. I’ll have some fresh clothes and toiletries sent up later.” Which meant they’d materialize in her room. “What are you, a size five?”

  “Ha! Try eight.”

  “Just guessing.”

  “Thank you, really.” She smiled. “For everything.”

  “Come and meet me here in the lobby in the morning—you’ll be famished, no doubt. We’ll have breakfast.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she said, stepping into the light.

  “How about, ‘See you later?’” Just as he leaned forward to get a good look at her face, she turned around and went into the elevator.

  “Later.”

  #

  No doubt it was the physical form that hung on Nick like armor, but he actually felt tired. He went over to a sofa, sank into it, and found that he could actually smell the wonderful scent of leather and feel its buttery soft surface. Unfortunately, he also felt the tightening in his chest and shortness of breath. That all too familiar manifestation of stress had returned.

  He’d intervened without authorization.

  Revealed himself to a human.

  Touched her meaningfully while perceptible.

  Surely he had failed again. How would he explain it to Lena? Through the ages, his rashness and indiscretions had...

  Did he really care?

  His smartphone chimed.

  A text message from Lena:

  Meet me in five or ten. Construct of your choice.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  FOR ONCE, NICK WAS GRATEFUL that despite their supernatural abilities, angels were neither omniscient nor omnipresent. Lena had no idea where he was, much less what he’d done. But where best to meet his alluring yet intimidating new supervisor?

  He thought about it for all of two seconds, then appeared on a level rock that rose from the waves pounding the La Jolla shores. Upon arrival he wove a thin construct of invisibility to human perception. About half a dozen seals barked loudly and dove into the water. That was the thing about animals, they often perceived the presence of angels. Dogs always did, and they caused the most trouble.

  Nevertheless, he loved this part of the planet around sunrise. Any minute now the first sun rays would strike the rolling waves.

  He sat on the rock surface.

  “Crikey!” A cold wet sensation in the seat of his pants jolted him to his feet. He nearly slipped.

  “Aw, you’re wet.” Lena said from behind him. He turned to face her.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “How did it go with your last subject?”

  “The crazy suicidal woman?”

  “Did she do it?”

  “Not exactly. Bit of a complication—nothing major.” Best not to expound further. “In any case, it’s only a matter of time before she tries again.”

  “What happened?”


  “Right, well...she was there at the bridge…. ”

  “But she didn’t jump?”

  “You know, I don’t understand what the hurry is.”

  Just then a huge wave crashed against the rock, sending frigid water over them both. Nick gasped for breath and wiped water from his face. Still drenched, he looked at Lena. She was staring at him—completely dry.

  “Why are you still in your mortal form?”

  “I thought I’d switched out of it,” he said.

  “Apparently not.”

  She touched his shoulder, and all the water from his hair and clothes lifted to become a myriad of drops and rivulets that sparkled like gems in the early morning light. She smiled, twirled them around Nick’s face, then sent them back into the ocean.

  “There. Better?”

  “Thank you.” Nick tried again and this time felt certain he’d exited his physical form. “I’m usually quite good at transitions.”

  “Of course you are.” Lena slipped her arm around his and took him to the edge of the rock. The seals who’d fled were poking their heads out of the water, observing the two of them. Lena hissed at them, and they dashed off as though a great white had just surfaced. She laughed and looked at Nick. “So tell me what happened.”

  “Look, I know she’s dangerous to the future and all that, but really, what’s the rush? What harm could she possibly do?”

  Lena narrowed her eyes. “Just tell me what happened!”

  Nick glared back at her. “Testy, aren’t we?”

  “Nick!” She squeezed his arm—not with much force, but it hurt enough to make him want to groan in pain. He managed to stifle it and act as though he’d felt nothing. He should have felt nothing.

  “At the moment just before she jumped, some man in a car got out, caught her by the arm, and convinced her not to do it.”

  “And you just let it happen? Didn’t you at least try to use a construct to stop him?”

  “It happened so fast I—”

  “Given the scope and importance of this assignment, I’d have expected you to take some initiative, think outside the box. But you just acted like some kind of...I don’t know, boy scout. Why—”

  Another wave threatened. Just as it was about to crash over them, Nick captured it into a sphere of energy, suspended it above them for a fraction of a second, then shot the entire mass of sea water up into the atmosphere. It all exploded in a circular spray, misting outward around the outline of the moon, faint but visible in the daytime. The effect of the resulting millions of microscopic droplets acting as prisms was a pale rainbow halo around the moon in three concentric circles.