Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run

Home > Other > Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run > Page 9
Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run Page 9

by O'Neal, Pepper


  Max got to his feet. “Shouldn’t we get a move on?”

  She motioned him back down. “Not yet. You still look half-dead, so let’s take another few minutes. Even if they track us here, Nick doesn’t like to hike. And he can’t get a car up here.”

  “Nick? Then you do know those guys. How many of them are after me?”

  “I only know two of them. But they’re all after me. At least yesterday they were. Today, I guess it’s both of us,” she added, moving back into the shade of the boulder.

  “Would you mind decoding that for me? You don’t come with English subtitles.”

  In spite of herself, she grinned. “Sorry. I meant that until you helped me this morning, they were only after me. They didn’t know you existed. But now that you’ve helped me, they’ll be after you, too.”

  “How would they know I helped you? I got out of the house when I heard them come in, so no one saw me. And while Bruce might have caught a glimpse of me when I took him down, I doubt he even knew you were there.”

  “In that case, you’re probably right,” she said, sighing with both relief and despair.

  She hadn’t gotten Max mixed up in this terrible mess after all. But she’d have to face the danger alone. Again. God, she was so tired of being alone. She closed her eyes a moment and fought off a crushing bout of hopelessness.

  “If no one saw you, you should be safe enough,” she said at length. “I can get you to the village, but after that you’re on your own.” She paused again until she could steady her voice. “Sticking with me will get you killed.”

  He rose and peeked over the boulder. “No offense, Jane, but we’ll both live a lot longer if we stick together.”

  As she opened her mouth to protest, Max put a hand on her shoulder. A fresh twinge of fear tightened her stomach at the tension in his fingers.

  “Save the debate for later,” he ordered. “Right now, we’ve got bigger problems.”

  CHAPTER 6

  10:53 a.m., the cottage in Baja California Sur:

  “Christ, I don’t believe this.” Nick hated incompetence. It made him want to kill someone. Anyone. He’d just spent twenty minutes searching the cove, and all he had to show for it was ruined shoes. Fisting one hand, he slammed it into the palm of the other. “You screamed ‘gunfire’ over the radio,” he spat, glaring at Bruce. “So we came rushing back here, and when we get here, you’re out cold. But you can’t even tell us if Tess is the one who attacked you.”

  Tony put a hand on Nick’s chest and eased him back. “I’ll handle this.” He turned to Bruce. “Well, go ahead. What’ve you got to say for yourself?”

  Bruce shuffled his feet and looked at the ground. “I, ah, know it wasn’t Tess. I only caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye, but it was a man.”

  “Oh, you caught a glimpse, did you?” Tony paused for a heartbeat. “Just out of the corner of your eye.” His words came out like blows. “So, how the hell do you know it wasn’t Tess?”

  Bruce flinched. “I know the difference between a man and a woman.” Fear and defiance warred in his voice. “And it was two men. One of them tripped me. The other one knocked me out. You should’ve left Josh or Glen with me.” He waved a hand at them. “One guy alone couldn’t handle it. Not with two against one.”

  Tony’s eyes narrowed to slits. “So your brain shut off, and you fell into a trap because you were alone?”

  “I didn’t fall into nothin’.”

  Tony jabbed a finger into Bruce’s chest. “Oh, really? That’s not how I see it. The fact is you screwed up. Whoever they were, they knocked you out and got away. Isn’t that right?”

  Bruce pressed a hand to the back of his head. “I s’pose. But it wasn’t Tess. The one that grabbed me was a man. The other one had to be a man, too. No woman hits like that.”

  “All right, never mind.” Nick dismissed him with a flick of his hand. As Bruce hurried away, Nick turned to Tony. “Christ, the man’s an idiot.”

  “I told you to bring only the best,” Tony hissed at Joe. “And this is who you show up with?”

  “You said you wanted the best, but you also wanted me and three others,” Joe retorted, his voice an octave higher than normal. “Nick said the five guys we left in Salt Lake were off limits. Bruce is the best of what was available.”

  Tony opened his mouth, but Nick interrupted. “Let’s stay focused here.” While he agreed that Joe needed his ass chewed, he had a more immediate target. “The problem right now isn’t Joe, it’s Bruce. He’s a liability, he’s incompetent, and I don’t trust him.” He jerked his head in Bruce’s direction. “And his attitude sucks.”

  Tony nodded and pulled out the six-inch knife he always carried on his belt. Without a word, he caught up with Bruce and led him off around the corner of the cottage, out of sight of the others.

  A few minutes later he came back, wiping his knife on a handkerchief. “That’s one problem taken care of. Have Josh and Glen stash the body behind some shrubbery across the road. Along with this.” Handing Joe the bloody handkerchief, he returned the knife to his belt. “Now, where were we?” he asked Nick.

  “Despite what that old man told us, I don’t think Tess lived here.” Nick held up a hand as Tony started to protest. “I know—we can’t rule it out, either. But let’s keep looking. And if that doesn’t pan out, we’ll come back and check this place again.”

  “I’ve got a better idea.” Tony turned back to Joe. “See these?” he asked, pointing out dimples in the sand. “They’re the remains of footprints, probably made by whoever attacked Bruce. Have Josh and Glen follow these. That way, if it was Tess, they’ll find her.” When Joe nodded, he added, “I want you to head into town with a picture of her and go door to door.”

  “Yeah, sure. No sweat.”

  Tony caressed the butt of his knife. “And don’t screw up again. If Tess is anywhere around here, and we don’t get her, you’ll be joining Bruce.”

  Joe gulped, nodded once more, and scurried over to Josh and Glen. As Tony stormed back to the Jeep Nick sauntered after him, a satisfied smile curving his lips. It felt awesome to have the power of life and death, especially when he didn’t have to get his own hands bloody. He’d hire a couple more assassins once he got back to Utah, he decided. Then he’d have them take out his grandfather, Levi—and Tony.

  ***

  “Come on, Jane, we have to go. Now.” Max pulled her to her feet, pretending not to notice how calling her Jane made her wince. “They’ve split up. Three of them are getting in the cars, and the other two are heading this way.”

  He moved aside to let her peer over the boulder.

  She frowned. “That only makes five, and there’s no blonde. What happened to Bruce?”

  “Beats me. There doesn’t seem to be any sign of him.”

  “That’s odd, unless—” Her eyes widened, her face taking on a look of horror. “God, I’ll bet that bastard killed him.”

  “By ‘that bastard’ I assume you mean Nick.” He watched the horror turn to guilt. “You think he killed Bruce because he fell for our trap?”

  She nodded, picked up her bags, and slung them over her shoulder. “With Nick, that’d be enough of a reason.”

  “Nice friends you have.”

  She didn’t answer, just turned away with a heavy sigh, but not before he’d seen the anguish in her eyes. As she led the way up the trail, he wondered how long she’d been running, who Nick was, and why he wanted her dead.

  A fierce need to protect her seized Max by the throat, along with the desire to make Nick pay for the suffering he’d caused her. A man didn’t have any right to inflict that kind of torment on a woman—no matter what the reason.

  As he trudged along behind her—trying, without much success, to stare at something other than her ass—he debated whether or not to confront her about Nick. He should probably tell her about the amnesia, too. She’d have answers he needed. They couldn’t stop now, but—

  “Ouch. Goddamn it.” Coming to
a sudden halt, she plopped down on the ground, jerked off her shoe, and dumped out a small rock.

  “Son of a bitch gave me a cramp,” she muttered, massaging her foot.

  “Are you okay?”

  She looked up at him, her hair whipped by the breeze into a tousled red cloud, her smoky eyes sparking with frustration. “I will be. I just need to work this cramp out of my foot so I can walk.” She patted the ground beside her. “Sit down before you fall down, Max.” A frown creased her forehead. “You look like you’re on another planet. Is there something on your mind? Other than exhaustion?”

  With a start, he realized he was staring at her. Had he thought she wasn’t beautiful? Good Lord, he must have been blind. A fist of need sprang up and slugged him between the eyes, giving him visions of the two of them—

  Jesus, what the hell am I thinking? Don’t I have enough trouble? Shaking his head, he yanked his libido back under control. Or tried to.

  “Max? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He lowered his butt to the ground, trying to find a place to sit that wasn’t on top of a cactus. “But I do need to talk to you.”

  She looked down the path behind her then over at him. “Okay, but make it quick.”

  He didn’t know where to start.

  When he cleared his throat the second time, she cocked her head. “You’ll need to spit it out sometime before next week.”

  “Just give me a minute.” Rubbing one hand over his face, he struggled to wipe away the cobwebs in his mind. “Okay, to put it bluntly, I have no memory of anything before this morning. I don’t know who you are, who those men are, or even who I am. I’d be grateful if you’d enlighten me,” he concluded, wincing at the suspicion that flared in her eyes.

  Her fingers stilled as she stared at him. “You’re saying you’ve got amnesia? How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “Christ, Jane, why the hell would I lie?”

  “I’m not saying you are. I’m just not sure I should trust you.” Annoyance flickered across her face. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me Jane. At least not in that tone.”

  “No problem,” he growled, throwing up his hands. “Since you won’t tell me your real name, how about angel?” When she glared at him, he gentled his tone and added, “I promise not to use your name against you.”

  She stared into his eyes for a long moment. “I hate lying, anyway,” she said with a sigh. “My name’s Tess.”

  “Okay.” Tess? Why did that sound familiar? Had he known her before this morning? No. They couldn’t have been acquainted if she hadn’t been surprised he didn’t know her name. He sensed answers, just under the surface of his mind, but he couldn’t quite latch onto them. “And what’s my name?”

  “I thought it was Max.” Her brow furrowed as she studied him, then she went back to massaging her foot. “Look, I’m sorry, but if I lost my memory, I’d be scared to death. You hardly seem bothered at all. And that makes me suspicious.”

  He winced. “Yeah, I guess it would me, too. And I was panicky at first. Then I realized that wouldn’t solve anything. I also sensed I could handle this. That I’d been trained to handle it.”

  “Trained to handle amnesia?”

  “No, trained not to panic, to keep my head in dangerous situations.”

  “Where does someone get training like that? And why?”

  “I haven’t a clue. But my gut tells me I was.”

  “Hmmm. Well, I suppose memory loss would explain why you’ve been acting so strange.” She considered him with pursed lips then jerked a shoulder. “What else does your gut tell you?”

  “That I like boats, that I’m competent enough to cope with this, that I’m used to being in charge.” He shot her a sideways glance. “And that I’m too much of a hard ass.”

  “You got the last one right at least.”

  “Smartass.”

  Her lips twitched but other than that, she didn’t respond.

  He sighed and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. “It may sound dumb, but I also sense that whatever happened to cause the amnesia is something I don’t want to remember. So it was probably very traumatic.”

  “That sounds logical, not dumb. And it gives some credence to what your gut tells you.” She shifted her position and looked down the path again. “When I was in college I read about things like this happening after a head injury.” Her eyes darted to his forehead. “From what I’ve read, minor cases like yours don’t usually last longer than twenty-four hours, if that.”

  “Twenty-four hours is a hell of a long time to not know who you are,” he snapped, pissed that she thought his problem so minor. Not remembering was driving him bonkers. But when he finally did get his memory back, he was in for a lot of pain and grief. So either way, he was screwed. Still, none of that was her fault. He had a dozen questions, all urgent, and couldn’t decide which to ask first. So he focused on something she’d said. “I’ve been acting strange? How?”

  A fleeting grin lit up her face. “Other than the fact that you didn’t remember you had a tattoo and acted like you didn’t know your own name?”

  He grimaced. “Yeah. Other than that.”

  “You fell right in with me this morning without questioning who I was, who was after me, or why. I could be the bad guy, you know.”

  “Not likely.” He reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Too much pain and fear in you for a bad guy.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Tell me,” he said as he captured her gaze and held it. “What’s Nick want with you?”

  “He wants to kill me.” Her matter-of-fact tone belied the anxiety in her eyes.

  He took a swig from his bottle of water and resisted the urge to pull her into his arms and comfort her. “Why?”

  She flexed her foot and put her shoe back on. “It’s a long story, and as I said, I don’t know if I can trust you.”

  “Fair enough.” He shifted his butt off an uncomfortable pebble and into a cactus. “Damn.”

  “Watch the cactus.”

  “A little late, but thanks for the warning,” he grumped, reaching back to coax the cactus spines out of his ass.

  She slapped his hand away. “Here, let me. If you do it like that, you’ll break them off with the heads still in.” Seizing the barbs in both hands, she yanked. Hard and fast. “Like that, see?”

  “Thanks so much for your tender compassion.”

  “Don’t be such a wimp,” she said as she pulled out the last one. Slipping her backpack on her shoulder, she grabbed her duffel bag and got to her feet. “If you’re up to it, we should go.”

  “I’m up to it.” Christ, she obviously doesn’t have much respect for my stamina. He rose and took the duffel away from her to carry it himself. “So what can you tell me about me?” he asked as they headed up the trail again.

  She shrugged. “A couple of neighbor boys and I pulled you out of the surf yesterday morning. You didn’t have any identification on you. But from the life vest you were wearing, I suspect you were shipwrecked in the storm we had on Tuesday.”

  “Tuesday? What’s today?”

  “Thursday.”

  “How long was I lying on the beach?”

  “All I know is, we found you yesterday morning.” She hesitated, biting her lip.

  “What?” he demanded. “Tell me.”

  “Don’t panic, but when I first got to you, you talked like you were in trouble—afraid someone would find you. But you passed out before explaining.” She pushed her hair back out of her face. “And to tell you the truth, I’ve been too busy with my own problems to worry very much about yours.”

  “I’ve had the feeling that someone’s after—” The distant clatter of falling rocks cut him off. Startled, he peered through the shrubbery at the edge of the path. “Son of a bitch. They’re starting up the hill. I thought you said they couldn’t follow us here.”

  Tess broke into a run. “I said a car couldn’t follow us here.”

&
nbsp; As they dashed through a spot where rain had washed out part of the trail, they sent an avalanche of small rocks skittering down the slope. Max heard shouts from the two men below. Then a gun went off. The bullet annihilated a barrel cactus just behind them.

  He cursed. “Why the hell are they shooting? For all they know, an animal made those rocks fall.”

  “Maybe they saw us.”

  “Even if they did, they’re too far away to recognize you.”

  Another bullet slammed into the ground.

  She sprinted up the path to the mesa. “Then maybe they shoot at anything that moves. How the hell should I know?”

  He kept close behind her. Once on the top, they took off at a dead run over the rocky, desert plateau.

  “Where are we going?” he called.

  “Away from the bullets,” she yelled back. “I was heading for the village, but that won’t work now. So we’ll just have to improvise.”

  “Great, angel, just great.”

  She ran as if the Hounds of Hell were nipping at her heels, and he could barely keep up with her. Gritting his teeth against his pain and exhaustion, he concentrated on running. As they neared the other side, he threw a quick glance over his shoulder. Far behind them, the goons had stopped at the edge of the mesa. One of them stood with his legs apart, taking aim.

  ***

  “What are they saying?” Nick demanded, tired of standing around on a bare dirt floor in a dumpy little living room, listening to gibberish.

  Ignoring him, Tony went on talking in rapid Spanish. The mother and her ten children shook their heads. “They keep saying they don’t know her,” he said at last, stuffing the picture of Tess back in his pocket.

  Nick grabbed a feather cape off the couch. “But they have to. I know she’s been here. This is her work.”

  With a snort of disgust, he tossed the costume on the floor. A small boy rushed over and retrieved it, lovingly smoothing the feathers.

  Nick looked around at the threadbare little house with its ragged furniture and dirt floors. The gray cinder-block walls held no pictures or decorations, except for a small statue of the Virgin Mother on a windowsill. The place stank of chilies, beans, and body odor. And the family looked even more ragged and threadbare than their house. Didn’t these people have any pride? He pulled out his wallet and handed Tony two hundred dollars. “This should loosen their tongues.”

 

‹ Prev