Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run

by O'Neal, Pepper

  “Easy. When we’ve got them, we’ll have Joe spread the word. In a village like this it won’t be long before everyone knows.”

  “Do you think Joe’s had any luck in town?”

  “No. He’d have called if he had.” Tony looked up at the sky. “I told him to pick up Josh and Glen when they got back and meet us at the village square at sunset.”

  Nick inhaled a drag of smoke, blew it out, and glanced at his Rolex. “I’d rather not wait that long to find out what’s going on. Let’s give them a call now and see if they have anything to report.”

  Tony sighed in that annoying way of his then retrieved the radio from his coat on the back seat. He contacted Joe first. Nick listened to the conversation with fading hope. Joe had found no one who admitted recognizing Tess.

  Then Tony tried the others. “That’s strange. I’m getting nothing, not even static, from Josh and Glen.”

  “You mean they’re out of range?”

  Tony stared into space. “No, they’re just not there. Either someone took them out, or they’ve damaged their radios.” He started the Jeep and drove back toward town. “And I’m leaning toward door number one. I think Tess lived at that cottage after all.”

  “You’re saying she took them out?”

  “Who else has a motive? Josh and Glen would’ve tried to kill her, but they would’ve ignored anybody else.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” Still, Nick found it hard to believe Tess could have disarmed two of his men and stolen their radios. “No, that’s impossible. She couldn’t have done it by herself.”

  “I agree. I knew Bruce was wrong about the men at the cottage.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Bruce thought there were two men there, the one who tripped him and the one who hit him.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  Tony’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. “He assumed the second one was a man, but it looks like it might’ve been Tess.”

  “So Tess has a man with her?” Nick was swamped with a sudden, violent rage as jealousy inundated him. He clamped his teeth together to keep it from spilling out. Tony would only sneer. Then another thought intruded. “But if they took out Josh and Glen, that would mean—”

  “Yeah. She’s armed, and she’s expecting us. But if it is Tess, and if she has one of our radios, we may be able to find her.” Tony turned onto the road leading into the village. “These gismos have a tracking device. After we get to town, I’ll get my equipment from the motel and see if I can tell what’s what.”

  ***

  “Careful, now, angel,” Max breathed. “This’ll all be for naught if they see us.” Behind the dilapidated old tractor they were using as cover, he watched the Jeep pull away from the farmhouse. “Which one’s Nick?”

  “He’s the passenger. Tony’s driving.” When she turned to look at him, the blood had drained from her face. “God, Max, did you hear? They want to take the children hostage. What am I going to do?”

  “Relax. No one was home to be taken.” He pointed to the house then took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “There’s no sign of life over there. But let’s go check it out. I need to use the head anyway.”

  The little farmhouse was deserted. They hurried inside. She offered to search the rest of the house, while he used the tiny bathroom. Then he waited for her outside while she went to pee.

  “You were right. Nobody’s here,” she told him when they met back on the front porch. “And it doesn’t look like Nick did any damage inside.”

  “Did you think he would?”

  “Yeah. He gets mean when he doesn’t get his way. Pablo’s family doesn’t have much, and it’d be just like Nick to destroy anything of value he could find. He gets a kind of perverted thrill out of hurting people who can’t hurt back.”

  “Nice guy.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “If you knew this about him, why the hell did you agree to marry him?”

  She looked away, but he’d seen the flash of humiliation on her face. Cupping her chin, he turned her face toward him until their eyes met.

  “Nothing you can tell me will make me believe any of this is your fault,” he said, stroking his thumb along her jaw. “Please, Tess, talk to me.”

  She stepped back. “I didn’t know what he was.” Her voice had an edge to it. “And we were only together for about six months.” Exhaling in a huff, she sank down on the steps. “Sorry, I get pissy when I’m embarrassed,” she said, kicking a small pebble and scattering the chickens in the yard. “I don’t know if you can understand, but I grew up in foster homes, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted a real family. So when Jonas told me we were cousins, that I was part of his family, it was like a miracle. I felt like I’d finally found where I belonged.”

  “That’s not so hard to understand.”

  She rubbed the palms of her hands on her jeans. “Nick had moved into an apartment in town before I came on the scene. And since he seldom goes out to the estate, I didn’t meet him until over two years after I met Jonas. Of course, I’d heard the stories about Jonas being the head of an organized crime family, but I ignored them.” She kicked another rock. “Jonas is a sweet old man. And he’s always saying how people should have lines they don’t cross, no matter what. So whenever someone mentioned the Mormon Mafia, I always thought it was a joke—until I did some research on the internet after the murders. And by then—”

  “Back up a minute. You never answered my question from before. So there really is a Mormon Mafia?”

  “Apparently. From my internet research and from things I overheard Nick say—but never understood until after he murdered that family—I believe there’s a faction that’s involved in organized crime. Though to be fair, I found no evidence the leaders of the Mormon Church know anything about it or have anything to do with it.”

  “How could they not know? Isn’t their leader supposed to be psychic or something?”

  She snorted. “No, silly. The president of the Church is supposed to be a prophet. He talks with God, he doesn’t read palms or tell your fortune.”

  “Oh, well, close enough in my book.” He paused, studying her. “You don’t really believe in that stuff, do you?

  She cleared her throat, as if suddenly uncomfortable. “Believe what? That he’s a prophet?” When he nodded, she shrugged. “Who knows? ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio...’” She hesitated, as if unsure of how much to say, then shrugged again. “Who am I to judge? I’ve never met the man. But I do believe that people sometimes get information in ways there are no logical explanations for. And I certainly don’t think that organized crime bigwigs are above pretending to be part of a religious organization. They try to hide where no one expects them to be. That’s how they get away with so much.”

  “But you said a faction of the Mormons. So the Mormons as a whole aren’t involved?”

  “Not as far as I know. I lived with Mormon foster families for most of my childhood, and none of them had anything to do with it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course. Hell, Max, even as a child I would’ve known if the people I lived with were holding secret meetings and leaving the house in the dark of night. I mean, they were assholes and hypocrites, for the most part, but they didn’t act like gangsters.” She paused then shuddered. “Believe me, I was always cognizant of how the adults acted and what they did.”

  “Yes, I imagine you were.” A vivid image flashed across Max’s mind—Tess as a young girl, alone and vulnerable, dumped with strangers who had complete control over her life. The poor kid would’ve never known if she’d be treated kindly, abused, used as slave labor, or...worse. But she wouldn’t thank him for his pity, so he shoved aside the rush of sympathy and changed the subject. “This faction, do you know what they’re called?”

  “Other than the Mormon Mafia?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, not for certain. A couple of internet sites referred to
them as the Danites, but I don’t know if that’s their official name. And I think there’s also a secret group within the faction called the Kolob Secret Service...or something like that. I heard Nick mention them once, but I wasn’t really paying attention at the time. It was only after the murders that I finally began to piece everything together and...” She trailed off, shook her head, and sighed. “The truth is I wanted a family so bad, I just didn’t let myself believe they weren’t on the up and up. But even so, I had no reason to think Nick would be any different from Jonas. His grandfather raised him, after all. Nick’s parents died when he was six.”

  She sounded defensive again, so Max leaned against the farmhouse door, held his tongue, and let her talk.

  “When I first met Nick, he was so charming. You can’t imagine. He just...I guess you could say he swept me off my feet. I had no idea he was anything but what he pretended to be.”

  “But things changed?”

  “Yeah. We’d dated about four months when we became engaged.” She puffed her cheeks, blew out a long breath. “Once I said yes, his whole attitude changed. He started acting like he owned me. Started picking at me, chipping away at my self-esteem, which wasn’t all that great to begin with. You know how it goes. I should dress differently, I should behave more appropriately, I should speak only when spoke to. It got to the point where nothing I did pleased him. I tried to tell him to back off, but he hated any spark of independence. I was supposed to just obey him without question. He kept telling me I needed to know my place. My place!”

  Her hands fisted on her knees. “But he never hit me until the night of the murders. By then I’d already realized I didn’t love him. I knew I couldn’t go through with the wedding and was working up the courage to break it off, when—”

  “Yeah.” Max clamped down on the rage burning a hole through his gut. “He must have sensed it. That’s why he took you with him that night.” When her head snapped up, he added, “The only one to blame is Nick. He’d have killed those people whether you were with him or not.” He sighed and shook his head. Maybe if he told her often enough, she’d believe him. He started to say something more, then the porch floorboards creaked beneath him, reminding him they had more urgent problems. He forced his mind off her past and onto the reason they were here. “Any idea where this family went?”

  “I imagine they went to the village. Pablo’s costume is gone, too.”

  “Oh, right. The parade.”

  She fussed with the dressing on her wound. “Yeah, the start of Carnival. They must’ve been gone when Nick got here, thank God. They’ll be safe until after the parade, don’t you think?”

  “Most likely. I doubt Nick’s dumb enough to kidnap the kids in front of the whole village.”

  “Good.”

  He noticed her wince as she plucked at her bandage. Her arm had stopped bleeding, though the skin around the wound was red and inflamed. “That looks painful.”

  “It is. I guess the aspirin’s wearing off.” She dug the bottle out and they both took some. “If Nick wants hostages, does that mean that he knows I’m still here?”

  “Not necessarily. He may be just playing a hunch. But either way, we need to let your friends know they’re in danger.”

  “Then we’d better head into town. Besides, we have to let someone know about the guys in the cave.”

  When she started to rise, he put a hand on her arm. “Tess, you do realize, don’t you, that if we get someone to rescue them, Nick will know you’re here for certain? There’s still a chance he doesn’t. We really should wait until we get you to safety.”

  She scooted away and glared at him. “So you want to just let them die? I don’t know about you, but I’m not looking for a nice little condo in Hell.”

  He chuckled. “A condo in Hell? Cute. Look, I’m not saying we should let them die. I’m just suggesting we have Pablo wait until tomorrow to tell someone. It won’t kill those jerks to spend the night in the cave. They’ll be hungry, thirsty, and miserable, but they’ll survive.”

  He put an arm around her waist and drew her back to his side. “And since they were trying to kill us, it’ll serve them right.”

  She sighed again and rested her head on his shoulder. “Max, they’re trussed up like turkeys with the way you tied them. That’s gotta be awfully uncomfortable.”

  “I certainly hope so, considering they shot you.” He brushed his lips gently over her forehead. “I hate it that they hurt you.”

  She stared at him, her gray eyes intense. In them, he read wariness, defiance, and a resilient strength she probably wasn’t even aware of. But nowhere did he see hypocrisy, dishonesty, or self-absorption.

  “You’re beautiful, Tess, inside and out.”

  The cautious delight that swept over her face gave him immense pleasure, though he found it hard to believe she wasn’t used to hearing it. Hadn’t anyone ever told her? Or had Nick convinced her she was plain?

  “Max, I—”

  “Hush.” He touched a finger to her lips. “That wasn’t a question and doesn’t require an answer. But since we may both be dead tomorrow, I thought I should tell you. Okay?”

  “I—thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, let’s go warn your friends they’re in danger. Before they find it out the hard way.”

  ***

  Nick felt a rush of exhilaration as Tony parked the Jeep behind Joe’s black sedan. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

  Kidnapping children to force a confrontation with Tess—he couldn’t think of anything more appropriate for a woman who’d betrayed him for two children she’d never seen before. Whatever happened to these Mexican kids was entirely her fault.

  “You’re not having second thoughts about this are you?” Tony’s voice echoed with contempt. “I thought we decided we’d do whatever it took to get her.”

  “No, I’m not having second thoughts. I agree it’s an excellent idea.” Nick opened his door and got out. “I’m just a little nervous about doing it in front of a whole village full of people.”

  Tony chuckled. “I hadn’t really planned on doing it here. I just want to make sure the family hasn’t gone out of town.” He started walking in the direction of the village square. “If they’re here, we’ll set up the ambush at their farm in plenty of time before they get home. But I’m not waiting there for hours if they’ve gone out of town or something.”

  “That makes sense.” Nick stopped to light a cigarette. “How are we going to kill Tess when the time comes?”

  Tony rubbed a hand over his chin. “I haven’t quite figured that out yet. I really thought one of our guys would just shoot her. But if it’s left up to us, I don’t think I want to make it that quick and easy. With all the trouble she’s caused me, I’d really like her to suffer before she dies.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” A wave of dark anticipation swept through Nick, making his dick hard as iron. He stopped to adjust himself then caught up with Tony. “She needs to die horrifically. In great pain.”

  “I’ll see if I can accommodate you,” Tony promised with a smile. “Now let’s go find Joe and have him guard the cars. As much as I like Mexicans, they’ll steal anything that’s not chained down.”

  “I can’t understand why you like them. I think they’re scum.”

  ***

  Max used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “We’d better not take the road into the village,” he observed, as they left the farmhouse. “Just in case Nick and Tony decide to come back. Is there another way to get there without retracing our steps to the cave?”

  Tess pointed to a small dirt path leading through the desert. “That trail there. It’s quite a distance from the road, so it should be safe.”

  As they walked, he thought about what she’d told him, but her story didn’t jive. He didn’t think she was leaving anything out on purpose, but something was missing all the same. “Tess, the murders you witnessed, any idea what the family’s last name w
as or why Nick killed them?”

  “He never gave me any reason for shooting them. But I think their last name was Vargas. Why?”

  “Well, this whole thing’s a little confusing.”

  She glanced up at him. “In what way?”

  “Let me see if I can explain.” As he gathered his thoughts, he watched a black-chinned hummingbird flitting around a flowering cactus and wondered how it could stand this damned heat—heat that left him weak and exhausted.

  “If Nick’s only concern is to keep you from testifying at a murder trial, he’s already accomplished that. You’re here, not in Utah. You’re scared, and you won’t be going home. What more does he need? Why does he have to kill you?” He took her hand, linked their fingers. “My gut tells me Nick’s up to something. Vargas must have known about it, and Nick thinks you do, too. And whatever it is, he’s afraid you can stop it.”

  ***

  3:12 p.m., the hotel room of Bartholomew Graves, Salt Lake City, Utah:

  As he read the coded report from the KSS, Graves’ hands shook, making the pages tremble. He’d known Nick was no good, but he’d had no idea how evil the little bastard was.

  The four-page document was blunt and professional, but Graves could read the outrage between the neatly typed lines.

  When he read the last page, the air in the room seemed to thin. He found it hard to breathe. The author had to be mistaken. Even Nick wouldn’t do something like this. Would he?

  Graves lifted the prepaid cell phone he’d purchased that afternoon and dialed a number from memory—one he didn’t dare put in his address book.

  “Yes?” said the KSS member who answered.

  Graves hesitated, reminding himself to be careful what he said on the phone. “Are you positive about what you reported on page four of the document that was delivered to me this afternoon?”

  “My sources don’t lie to me,” the man said in a tone of voice that gave Graves goosebumps.

  “Could he have been mistaken about the Middle Eastern element?”