Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run

by O'Neal, Pepper

  “You will. I’ll get the word out today and see what I can find out for you. But right now, I think you should go back home and get some sleep.”

  “Yeah, like that’s really gonna happen.” Max got to his feet and headed out the door, ignoring the concerned look Davis shot him.

  He went back to his apartment, but didn’t bother trying to sleep. Any fool could see it was no use. Instead, he stood at his window and watched the traffic down on the street, thinking about the mess he’d made of his life.

  A knock on his door distracted him from his painful thoughts. Looking through the spy hole, he groaned.

  “Monica,” he said, opening the door. Could his day get any worse? “I thought you were in Virginia.”

  “I was.”

  The fragrance of expensive jasmine perfume swirled around her like a cloud. Framed in his doorway, with her long, raven hair piled high on her head and a silk designer sundress hugging her curves, she made a stunning picture. A polished, sophisticated beauty, Monica had once fascinated him. Now that he saw past the surface, she only disgusted him.

  “I came back because I heard you were here.” She tried to kiss him. When he leaned his face away from her lips, she regarded him with raised eyebrows. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Right.” He sighed and stepped back to let her in. “Monica, I—”

  She cut him off. “Oh, Max, you look just awful. I’m so sorry about David,” she added, sliding her arms around his waist.

  “Thank you.” He closed the door and untangled himself from her embrace. “Since you’re here, we need to talk.”

  She took a seat on the couch. “I don’t like your tone. If this is bad news, perhaps you’d better offer me a drink.”

  Nodding, he poured her a glass of her favorite vodka. “Listen, Monica, we both know this engagement’s a farce.”

  Her lovely violet eyes scoured his face as she sipped her drink. “What do you mean? We’re marvelous together.”

  “No. We. Are. Not.” He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if she really believed what she said. “You don’t love me any more than I love you,” he continued. “You only want me because my grandfather’s a senator, and you think I’ll be a shoe-in to become one myself. So our marriage would give you an edge in Washington society.”

  She didn’t deny it. “I’ve always wanted to be the wife of a senator. And your political connections make you irresistible.” Setting her glass on the coffee table, she got up, walked over to him, and patted his cheek. “You’re perfect for me, Max.” Her smile was smug. “Uncle Derrick told me so again just last night.”

  “That’s not going to work, Monica.” Infuriated, he pushed her hand away. “I won’t be coerced into marrying you.”

  Her mouth quirked in annoyance. “Coerced? That’s a little harsh.” When he didn’t respond, she smoothed the non-existent wrinkles in her dress. “When did you decide all this?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and shook his head. “What does it matter when I decided it? I never proposed to you. Or bought you that ring.”

  “Well, you should have. You made implied promises, even if you didn’t say the words.” She twirled the diamond on her finger, her lips curling with disgust. “Who is she?”

  “What?”

  “Oh, come on, Max. A man doesn’t toss aside a woman like me unless he has someone else waiting in the wings.”

  Her attitude was a stark contrast to Tess’s honest, unpretentious generosity. The ache in his heart made him wince.

  Monica sneered. “So it’s like that. You love her, but she doesn’t love you?”

  “That hardly concerns you.”

  “If she doesn’t want you, why don’t you marry me?” She went back to him and slipped her arms around his neck. “With my connections, your career in the CIA would skyrocket.” Pressing herself against him, she kissed the corners of his mouth. “And that’ll be a bonus when you’re ready to go into politics.”

  Resisting the urge to shove her on her ass, he sighed and angled his lips out of her reach. “Monica, stop it.”

  “I think I can change your mind,” she purred and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. “I bet you haven’t forgotten how good we are in bed. You know you want me, too.”

  “Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he growled. Extracting himself from her busy fingers, he crossed to the door, opened it. “Whatever there was between us is over. I’m sorry.”

  Outrage burned in her eyes. And disbelief. He doubted she heard “no” very often. The shock on her face might’ve amused him under other circumstances.

  “Not half as sorry as you will be,” she hissed. “You’ll pay for this, you bastard. Uncle Derrick will see to it.”

  “No doubt. Goodbye, Monica.”

  “Go to Hell,” she snarled and stalked out with her head held high.

  He managed not to slam the door. “Well, that was certainly pleasant.” Grumbling to himself, he buttoned his shirt again. “That’s what I get for being stupid enough to get involved with her in the first place.”

  Monica’s parting words rang in his ear, and he wondered how long he’d have a job. She’d work up a few tears for her Uncle Derrick, and the director would take it out on him. He rubbed his temples, trying to discourage the headache pummeling his brain. If he lost his job, he lost it. I just hope I can hang onto it long enough to deal with Almasi.

  CHAPTER 17

  10:19 a.m., the country estate of Jonas McKenzie, outside Salt Lake City, Utah:

  Levi entered the study, stopped, and braced himself. Jonas sat at his desk reading what looked like a fax, his expression grim. The hairs on the back of Levi’s neck prickled with foreboding. “More trouble?”

  At the question, Jonas glanced up. “Oh, good. Come in.”

  It pained Levi to see the worry and exhaustion on the old man’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Tony’s body wasn’t recovered from the house in Baja. And no identifiable pieces of him were found in the blast area.” Jonas waved the fax. “Prado sent me this a few minutes ago.”

  “Which means he’s still alive.”

  “Most likely.”

  “And you really think he’ll come after Tess because I screwed up his operation in Baja?”

  “I think he’d use any excuse to come after her.” Jonas got up from his desk and paced. “He hates Tess. And has ever since she rejected his advances at a party I gave the year before she met Nick.” He walked to the window and stared out. “I saw her refuse him. Saw the look on his face when he walked away.” He raised a hand, let it fall. “Oh, she wasn’t unkind to him. She just wasn’t interested. But with his ego...well, he blew it all out of proportion.”

  Sighing, he turned back to his desk. “That’s one of the reasons I transferred him to Nick in the first place. I thought if he wasn’t around when she came to visit, he’d get over it.” He pressed his fingers to his eyes. “I should’ve transferred him back to me after she and Nick started dating, but he seemed to be such a good mentor for Nick. Little did I know.”

  “None of this is your fault, Jonas.”

  “No, I know that. At least part of me does.”

  Levi took a chair by the desk. “Tell me about him. I’ve never been all that impressed with him myself, but you know him a lot better than I do. What’s he capable of?”

  “He was with Special Forces in the military. He’s nowhere near as skilled as you, but he’s still lethal when he wants to be.” Jonas put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. “He’s also very smart. And if he’d deal with terrorists, he’s obviously got no conscience.”

  “So what do you suggest we do now? Should we hide Tess or go after him? Or both?”

  “Christ, I don’t know. What do you think?”

  Levi thought for a moment. Tess was staying with him for the time being, sleeping in his spare bedroom. The security system in his apartment was first rate, but if Tony was as skilled as Jonas said,
a burglar alarm wouldn’t be much use—nor would regular guards.

  “I’m not leaving her here alone while I chase off after Tony,” he said. “Even with bodyguards that’s not an option. But she can’t continue to stay at my apartment. That’s the first place he’ll look.” He paused, mentally running through his options. “I guess the best thing would be for both of us to move in here. You’ve got plenty of room. And that way, in addition to my protection, we’ve got your guards. And we’d better beef up your security systems while we’re at it.” He rose to put his plan into action. “If Tony does come after her,” he said, his voice hard, “it’ll be the last thing he ever does.”

  “Wait,” Jonas called after him. “How’s it going with you and Tess? You making any progress?”

  Levi suppressed a sigh. “Right now she’s feeling hurt and betrayed. I still hear her cry every night. She loves Max, and I can’t even say I blame her. He’s a great guy.” Not really sure how to explain, he hesitated. “I know how to protect her. I know how to be her friend. I just don’t know how to make her love me. Not the way she loves Max.”

  He paused. He hated admitting this, even to himself, but the old man really cared. “I know how to do a lot of things, Jonas. But with the one thing in my life that really matters, I haven’t got a bloody clue.”

  ***

  12:34 p.m., the apartment of Levi Komakov, Salt Lake City, Utah:

  Tess packed her duffel bag, wondering why she didn’t feel afraid. True, she trusted Levi to keep her safe, but it wasn’t that. Or not only that. She just didn’t have the energy to worry. And she was so very tired of running. She felt flattened, like a two-dimensional being in a three-dimensional world, and she didn’t fit anywhere. Life held little but pain for her without Max. Stop it. Don’t think about him.

  Fixing a smile on her lips, she picked up her duffel bag and backpack then went into the living room to face Levi. “Ready.”

  From the look he gave her, she knew her smile didn’t fool him. He took the duffel, hung it over his shoulder, and picked up his own bag. Grasping her hand, he led her down to his Jaguar for the drive to Jonas’s estate.

  She walked beside him, enjoying his scent. He smelled nice. He had an earthy aroma, very masculine and soothing. But not the same as—Stop it.

  “How are your dreams?” he asked as he put their bags in the trunk. “They tell you anything I should know?”

  “My dreams don’t tell me anything. They only give vague hints.”

  “Uh huh. Well, what are they hinting at now?’

  She shrugged. “Danger. Tony coming after me. But that doesn’t mean they’re prophetic,” she said defiantly. “It could just be a reflection of my fears. You know, Levi, sometimes, a dream’s just a dream.”

  “Highly unlikely, since I didn’t tell you he was after you until this afternoon.”

  “You didn’t have to tell me. I already knew. Nick told me in Baja. Remember?”

  “Nick’s an ignorant ass.”

  “And your point is?” When he laughed, she forced a smile before adding, “He says the dreams come from Satan.”

  “Add bloody fool to ignorant ass. Those dreams are a gift, Tess. Eventually, you’ll learn how to interpret them.” She sighed and he shot her a glance. “Other than the dreams, are you doing okay?”

  “I’m getting there. I know it’s silly, but after what happened with—in Baja, I feel like I failed somehow.”

  “Yeah. Love can do that to you.”

  She winced at the pain in his voice. Though he was affectionate, handsome, strong, funny, and smart—and she adored his British accent—her love for him had always been different from his love for her. He wanted a lover. She needed a friend.

  How could she explain he overwhelmed her because he was just too perfect, too...larger than life? It sounded stupid, even to her. But she knew she could never quite measure up to him. Even though he hadn’t deliberately done anything to make her feel that way, that was how she felt. And if she told him, he’d probably laugh and tell her he had plenty of faults. Maybe so, but she couldn’t see them.

  Max, on the other hand, seemed...human—human enough to make mistakes. Like getting captured at the rendezvous house and needing her help to get untied. Something like that would never happen to Levi. He was invincible and probably never needed anyone’s help. What could she possibly offer him?

  She cared about him. A lot. But her own insecurities made it impossible for her to love him the way he needed her to. Besides, her heart had a mind of its own, and as much as she wished otherwise, it wanted Max.

  Even her own heart had betrayed her.

  ***

  Thursday, March 27th, 9:15 a.m., the U.S. Embassy, Mexico City, Mexico:

  “You wanted to see me, Tom?” Max paused at the door to Davis’s office, not quite sure what to expect.

  Had Monica made good on her threat and gotten him fired? He needed more time, damn it. Though he’d spent the past few weeks combing the criminal undergrowth, he hadn’t found a whisper about Almasi’s whereabouts. He figured the bastard had gone home, and he’d been making plans to fly to the Middle East when he got the word to get his butt to the embassy. STAT. Still sleeping only in snatches, he wasn’t surprised when Davis gawked at him.

  “Christ, Max, you look worse than ever. What the hell’s happened to you?”

  Max plopped himself in a chair. “I’m fine, Tom. I just can’t sleep.”

  “I’ve never seen you like this.” Davis shook his head. “You’re still messed up about the girl, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about her.”

  “Fine, then let’s talk about Monica. Director Amberson wants to fire you because of her. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I figured as much, but it couldn’t be helped. Is that why I’m here?”

  “No, Max.” Putting his fingers together in a steeple, Davis peered at him over the top. “It wasn’t easy, but I managed to save your job.”

  “Jesus.” Relief and guilt both assaulted Max. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it, but I didn’t expect you to go to bat for me. I don’t want you to have trouble from Amberson, too.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “And I understood the consequences when I broke it off with her.”

  “Then why did you? Were you trying to get fired?”

  “No, but I don’t love her, Tom. Marrying her would’ve been a huge mistake.” Massaging his temples, he cursed the headache forming behind his eyes. “So if you’re not canning me, why’d you call me in?”

  Davis flashed a smug grin. “Because I found him. And he’s just outside Mexico City.”

  “Almasi? Really? Where? When? How?” Max stopped himself and drew in a breath. “I can’t believe it. I haven’t found a thing.”

  “I took your suggestion and offered a reward, quietly, through some contacts in the ‘paid help’ sector of society. An informant contacted us. She works as a maid at the house where Almasi’s hiding. It’s in the foothills. Wanna go take a look?”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Of course, I do,” Max exclaimed, following Davis out to his car.

  Due to the brisk winds that had blown away much of the pollution—and lightened the normally dark brown smudge to a beige haze—Max could see the mountains rimming the city. Basking in the early spring sunshine, they were dressed in muted browns and grays, adorned here and there with splashes of dark green shrubbery, and crowned with cotton-ball clouds.

  “Damn, that’s an impressive sight,” he commented as Davis drove down Paseo de la Reforma.

  Davis only grunted. “Mountains are mountains,” he said then pointed. “There’s where we’re headed.”

  Max looked in the direction of Davis’s finger at a spot high on the terraced hillsides of the bluffs, where luxurious mansions perched like sentinels.

  “Yeah. That looks like just the kind of place that would appeal to drug cartel bigwigs.” And Almasi.

  The car wove through the slums on the outskirts of the city then climbe
d into the foothills. Halfway up the bluffs, Davis pulled off the main road onto a small dirt lane and parked behind some trees. Signaling caution, he led Max to the crest of a ridge on a direct line of sight above a home that resembled a fortress.

  “Jesus, Tom. Check out that house. Must be twenty thousand square feet.”

  “At least.”

  The wide, gently sloping lawns that surrounded the huge dwelling were enclosed by a ten-foot high wall topped with electric wire. Not an easy target.

  With a high-powered scope and a grunt of dismay, Max counted guards. “Twenty-two,” he grumbled. “I’m assuming those are the drug lord’s guards. Not Almasi’s.”

  “True, but they’ve still got automatic weapons, and it’s a good bet they know how to use them. And see that high-voltage wire on top of the wall? I imagine it packs a wallop.”

  “No point in it otherwise.” Max frowned. “So, how do we get in?”

  “I’m not sure we can, Max. Not without a full-scale assault, which Langley will never authorize.” When Max cursed, Davis added, “We don’t want to start a war, for Christ’s sake.” He paused for a peek through his own scope. “I’m afraid we’ll have to go with Plan B.”

  Max felt his eyebrows rise. “You mean you have a Plan B?” He kept tight control of his thoughts, refusing to let them stray to another Plan B—in a La Paz motel. “I’m impressed.”

  Davis chuckled. “I always have a Plan B. In this case, our informant told us that the terrorists are waiting for two more people to arrive early on Saturday. They have ten now. Guess they need an even dozen for whatever attack they’re planning.

  “They’re taking a week for prep work, then they’ll be driven to somewhere south of Ciudad Juarez early on the morning of April fifth. That should give us plenty of time to prepare an ambush.” Davis lowered his scope. “It’s amazing what people allow the hired help to overhear.”