Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run

by O'Neal, Pepper

  ***

  Saturday, April 26th, 5:53 p.m., the home of Max Maxwell, Williamsburg, Virginia:

  Guilt, grief, self-loathing, and whiskey—hell of a cocktail, Max mused. He slouched in a chair in his library, sipping bourbon and staring through the french doors at the snow crocuses coming up in his back garden. He’d only been back home a half dozen times since he bought the house, and he’d never noticed the crocuses before. Pretty. Almost as colorful as the bougainvillea he’d seen around the cottage in Baja. Don’t think about that.

  The phone rang, but he let it go to voicemail. He was on leave, damn it. And it was probably just Tom, calling to rag him about Tess. Again.

  Leaning his head against the back of his chair, he closed his eyes. He was exhausted. His two-week’s leave was up tomorrow, and he’d start teaching at The Farm on Monday. If he didn’t get some decent sleep this weekend, he wouldn’t be able to function.

  While taking out Almasi had eased his guilt over David and the marines, it hadn’t given him the peace he’d hoped for. But that didn’t surprise him. Guilt over their deaths had never been the problem with his sleep. No, that problem had red hair and gray eyes.

  He was helpless where she was concerned. One look at her, and his heart had stumbled. He’d wanted women before, cared about them before. He had been excited, thrilled, and infatuated. But he’d never been powerless. Or so utterly lost and out of control.

  He hurt in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible—a gut wrenching ache deep down when he thought about life without her. Stop it. She’s gone, damn it. Get over it, already.

  Shaking his head, he forced his thoughts away from her. I wonder if Tom will ever locate Tanner. So far, there hadn’t been a trace of him. Whatever hole the FBI agent was hiding in, it was dark and deep. Christ, Max wanted to get his hands on that bastard. He figured Tanner had almost as much to answer for as Almasi.

  Hearing a soft meow, he glanced out at the garden. A shaggy orange cat stared back at him. The sight of it sent another spasm of pain through Max. Tess’d had an orange cat at her cottage. She’d called it Griffin. I wonder what happened to it. As the cat wandered off, Max’s thoughts returned to Tess. Was she okay? Did she ever think about him?

  How the hell am I going to live without her?

  ***

  Monday, April 28th, 9:51 p.m., the country estate of Jonas McKenzie, outside Salt Lake City, Utah:

  “Excuse me, sir.” One of the guards stopped Levi on the way to his room. “Mr. McKenzie asked to see you. He says there’s news.”

  Levi thanked him and hurried off to the study.

  Jonas looked up when the door opened. “Nick’s Folly is now being called Deadman’s End and is docked at the marina in Newport, Oregon. It got there three days ago.”

  “How do they know it’s the same boat?”

  “In addition to the picture of Tony, I had Gloria fax photos of the boat—inside and out—along with an offer of a reward for information to all the marinas on the West Coast. The harbor master, or whatever you call them, in Newport recognized Nick’s Folly, and got aboard with his camera.” He handed Levi a stack of photographs. “These just came by special messenger.”

  Levi studied the pictures. “Yep, that’s her. So Tony’s been in-country seventy-two hours.” He glanced up at Jonas. “And you’re sure he’ll come after Tess?”

  Jonas grunted and held up a sheet of paper. “The harbor master found this on the table in the salon and sent a copy of it along with the pictures.” He passed it to Levi. “It looks like a diagram of the street where your apartment is. And see on the back there. That’s a rough layout of my estate. So, yes, I’d say it’s fairly certain.”

  “Yes,” Levi agreed. “There’s no reason to have drawn this out if he wasn’t planning a strike.”

  “What precautions have you taken?”

  “I’ve got surveillance on my apartment round the clock. I’ve also put the word out on the street that Tony no longer works for you and isn’t under your protection. On top of that, I’ve offered a substantial reward for any information that leads to his capture.” Levi grimaced in apology. “I took the liberty of offering the reward. I didn’t think you’d mind. If you do, I’ll pay it.”

  “No, of course I don’t mind.” Jonas waved a hand. “Go on.”

  “The men I’ve called in to watch my apartment are the best in their field. They’ll nab Tony if he shows up there. I’ve also doubled the guards here on the estate grounds and in the house.” Jonas’s eyebrows rose, but Levi wasn’t finished. “And I’ve installed cameras and motion sensors on the perimeter wall in case he tried to climb over it.”

  He crossed to the decanters on the hutch in the corner and poured two glasses of burgundy. Inhaling the heady bouquet, he handed one to Jonas and sipped his own. “I’ve tried to think of everything he could possibly do, but I still feel like I’m missing something major.” Puffing out his cheeks, he rubbed at the tension in the back of his neck. Then with a groan of frustration, he sank into a chair by the desk. “You said Tony was smart. So if he doesn’t think he can beat me in hand-to-hand, he’ll probably try something clever. And since I don’t know what it’ll be, I’m afraid I won’t be prepared when it happens.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know what else we can do.” Levi stared at the blood-red liquid in his glass, struggling to translate his thoughts into words. “I’m trained for paramilitary, Jonas, not head games. If Tony goes in for something in that arena, I’ll need help. He’s been in-country long enough to get to Salt Lake City, so whatever he’s going to try, it’ll be soon.”

  “I have a friend who’s a retired psychiatrist,” Jonas said. “He’s known Tony since he was a teenager and he might be able to tell you what he’ll try. I’ll call him now, explain things, and set up an appointment for you to see him if you think it’ll help.”

  Levi nearly choked on his wine. “A psychiatrist?” Then again, what did he have to lose? “On second thought, that’s a good idea.”

  Jonas made the call. “He’ll see you at his home at eight in the morning,” he said when he hung up the phone. He scribbled an address on a Post-It and handed it across the desk.

  “I’ll be there,” Levi assured him. “If Tony’s going to try something sneaky, I’ll do whatever it takes to outsmart him.”

  ***

  Tuesday, April 29th, 8:09 a.m., the home of Dr. Charles Smith, Salt Lake City, Utah:

  Levi took an instant liking to Dr. Smith. A small, meticulous man, Smith had sharp brown eyes, a smile that only reached them occasionally—but was well worth the wait when it did—a quick mind, soft hands, and an ironic sense of humor.

  “Tony’s clever, but he’s smug,” Smith said. “And the smug part makes him vulnerable. When ego gets in the way, people make mistakes. And you stop him by thinking of what he hasn’t thought of yet.” He flashed Levi a grin. “You look like a bright young man. You shouldn’t have a problem second guessing Tony.”

  “I don’t feel very bright. I didn’t even know he’d come after Tess until I got back to Salt Lake City, and by then it was too bloody late.”

  “You didn’t know because you don’t know Tony. I’ve known his family since he was fourteen. I lived in the apartment next door to them all through medical school and my residency. Tony has a serious inferiority complex, though he hides it well. It stems from being the oldest son of a domineering mother, whom he could never please. And now in Jonas’s organization, Tony knows that he’ll never be—I believe the expression is ‘Made.’ He’ll always be an employee, never a boss.”

  Smith poured a mug of dark brown liquid from a small pot on the desk. “Coffee substitute.” He held out the pot. When Levi shook his head, Smith grinned. “I know. It tastes rather like cardboard. I just use lots of sugar,” he said, adding several spoonfuls to his cup.

  “Anyway, when Jonas transferred Tony from his staff to Nick’s, Tony most likely saw it as a demotion. I believe that was
when he decided to bring Nick down as a way to get even with Jonas. After all, wasn’t it Tony who came up with the drugs-and-terrorists scheme?”

  “That’s what Nick’s men said,” Levi confirmed. “But Tess really didn’t have that much contact with Tony, and she isn’t the type of person to make someone feel inferior. Even if she doesn’t like them. I mean, she’s not the least unkind.”

  “Yes, but I imagine her rejection of him when he made that pass at her was a serious blow to his ego. Especially if she was kind about it.” He tapped a finger on the rim of his cup as he talked. “When Tony approached her at that party, I doubt he saw her as anything special. He was probably only after a quick fling, nothing more. Had she accepted, he would have bedded her and forgotten her as just another conquest. But she refused him—not what he expected.

  “And yet she accepted Nick. Now, Tony believes he’s far superior to Nick. Better looking, smarter, sexier, you name it. So when Nick—ten years younger and so inferior to him—swept in and stole her, it hurt. Tony blew the whole thing up in his mind until she became every woman who’d ever betrayed him. He probably blamed both her and Nick, but mostly her.”

  Smith drained his cup and poured another. “After all, in his opinion, all women are whores and bitches.”

  “So everything that’s gone wrong after she said ‘no’ is her fault?”

  “Absolutely. You wouldn’t expect a man like Tony to blame himself for his own mistakes, would you?” Smith sighed and shook his head. “Added to that, Tess is a strong, independent woman with a touch of vulnerability that makes her utterly charming and approachable.”

  He met Levi’s gaze then smiled. Sympathy radiated from his eyes. “Ah, I see you’ve got it bad. But Tony wouldn’t have seen the qualities in her that you do, only that she seemed attainable, but wasn’t. At least not to him. And now, she’s still alive despite how hard he’s tried to kill her. Not only that, but because of her, you went to Baja and kicked his butt.” Smith paused for another quick grin. “He’d have hated that.

  “Then there’s our church doctrine. He’s not a Mormon, but you can’t live in Utah and not pick up some of the teachings. We believe a woman’s place is in the home and that she should be obedient to her husband—her righteous husband, that is. But for a misogynist like Tony, it’s an excuse for abuse.

  “Of course, this is all conjecture, but knowing Tony, I think it’s valid.” He waved a hand at his certificates on the wall. “I’d be willing to bet my medical degree that Tony’s the one who convinced Nick Tess had to die. He probably suggested she knew too much about their operation—though from what you’ve told me, it’s obvious she had no knowledge of it—and that if she told his grandfather, Jonas would send an assassin after them.”

  Levi shifted in his chair. “Jonas isn’t like that,” he protested. “He never ordered anyone to take out Nick—or Tony, for that matter. And though he made it clear that if I had to kill Nick to save Tess, he’d accept that, it wasn’t his first choice.”

  “You and I know that. But people like Nick tend to project their own emotions and propensities on others. Because an assassin would’ve been Nick’s first response, he assumes it’s Jonas’s as well. Add to that, Nick also has a warped sense of a woman’s place—even worse than Tony’s—and it’s a recipe for disaster.”

  “So what is Tony likely to do now, and how do I stop him?”

  “I can’t give you specifics, of course, but I can tell you it will be an indirect approach. First off, I’ll bet the sketch he left behind is a false clue. If it was a real clue, he would’ve destroyed it. So he won’t try to attack her at the estate or at your apartment. He’ll try to get her completely away from you. And you stop this by warning her not to believe anything a stranger tells her.”

  Smith paused, stared at the wall a moment. “For example, if someone gets word to her that you or Jonas have been in an accident, and they need her to come to the emergency room, she should call the hospital to be sure this is true before she leaves the house.”

  “Yes, I see your point. Okay, I’ll warn her.”

  “Tell her not to take anything for granted.”

  “That’s good advice, Doc. Thanks. Anything else?”

  “Yes.” Smith cleared his throat. “If he gets hold of her, the kill won’t be quick or painless. He’ll want to make her suffer.” He studied his fingernails. “Violence is against my religion, but I’m a realist.” Raising his eyes, he met Levi’s gaze and held it. “Tony won’t stop until she’s dead. If you truly want to protect her, you’re going to have to kill him.”

  CHAPTER 20

  8:17 a.m., the country estate of Jonas McKenzie, outside Salt Lake City, Utah:

  Tess had just come back to her room after breakfast when the intercom buzzed.

  “You have a call on line three,” the butler said. “A Mary Brown.”

  “Thanks, Ralph.” Mary Brown? Tess shrugged and pushed the button on her phone. “Hello?”

  “Hold just a minute, please,” said a female voice.

  Then a male voice came on the line. “Hello, Tess, remember me?”

  “Tony?”

  “You remembered.” He sounded pleased. “Are you alone?”

  “Yes,” she whispered as fear raked its claws down her spine. “How’d you know I was here?”

  He laughed. “Where else would Komakov stash you to protect you? And speaking of your little buddy, where is he?”

  At the sneer in his voice, anger rose up and swallowed her fear. “Did you call just to insult Levi, or do you want something?”

  “I want you, Tess,” he told her with a sinister chuckle. “You see, I tracked down your CIA friend and took him prisoner.” At her horrified gasp, his laughter increased. “Yes, I figured you were hot for him. You wouldn’t have been so angry with him otherwise. I also saw your tears when he left. So after I got away from the house I went after him. It took me awhile, but I got him.”

  Oh, God, no! “Max?” The lump in her throat made it hard to speak. “Is he all right? Don’t hurt him. Please.”

  “He’s fine, but whether he stays that way is pretty much up to you. It’s you I want revenge on, not Max. I’m sure he couldn’t help himself when it came to you. Neither could Nick. Or Komakov. Men are just fools for you, aren’t they, Tess?” He sounded so vicious, she didn’t respond. Couldn’t. He waited a few brief seconds then continued. “So what’s Max’s life worth to you? Will you toss him aside like you did all the others, or will you trade yourself for him?”

  “How do I know you even have him, or that he’s still alive? I want to talk to him.”

  “No dice,” he snapped. “Not on the phone. I promise you he’s alive. For now. If you want him to go on living, you’ll meet me.”

  “And you expect me to believe you’ll let him go unharmed if I do?”

  “Let me put it this way, bitch.” He spat the words at her. “You damn sure better believe I’ll kill him if you don’t. And I’ll make him suffer before he dies.”

  Oh shit, oh shit. What do I do? She still wasn’t sure Tony had Max, but she had no clue how to check. And she couldn’t take the chance he was bluffing.

  “You still there, Tess?”

  “Yes. What do you want me to do?”

  “You’re going on a little trip,” he said. “Grab your toothbrush and call a cab. Go to the Salt Palace Convention Center on West Temple. To the payphones on the main floor. Wait there. I’ll call one of those phones. And don’t waste time. If you’re not there when I call, Max is dead. Any questions?”

  “No.” Tess could hardly get the word out. She cleared her throat. “I’ll be there. I’ll leave right now.”

  “Good girl. I’m looking forward to seeing you again. And Tess? Come alone. Or else.” With that, he hung up.

  She stared at the phone, her mind numb with horror. Oh God, I have to save Max. Although she hated to admit it, she still loved him, and she couldn’t let him die in her place. Fighting down her panic, she struggled
to come up with a plan.

  She’d have to meet Tony alone. No question. She wouldn’t risk Max’s life. But that didn’t mean she had to go unarmed.

  Sprinting down the hall, she dashed into Levi’s room. She’d seen him stash a half dozen guns in there when he moved her to the estate. From the closet shelf, she took the small, twenty-five caliber pistol he called a pocket gun. Compact and lightweight, but sturdy, it fit snuggly in her hand. She checked the clip. Full. Naturally.

  Back in her bedroom, she called for a cab then grabbed a pen and paper from the table by the phone and scribbled a quick note. Her hands shook so much she could barely control the pen.

  Levi, she wrote. Tony called. He’s kidnapped Max and wants to exchange him for me. I know you won’t approve, but I have to go. It’s my fault Max is in this mess in the first place. Please, please don’t come after me. This isn’t your fight. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Forgive me. ~ Tess.

  Placing the letter in an envelope, she sealed it, wrote Levi’s name on the front, and hurried off to find the butler.

  “Ralph, would you give this to Levi when he gets back from wherever he went this morning?”

  “Certainly.”

  She ran back to her room, shoved the gun, a change of clothes, her toothbrush, and wallet in her backpack, and dashed outside to catch her cab.

  ***

  9:13 a.m., the country estate of Jonas McKenzie, outside Salt Lake City, Utah:

  Levi stormed into Jonas’s study and dropped Tess’s note on the desk.

  Jonas picked it up and read it in silence, his wrinkled old hands trembling. “Holy Mother of God!” When he looked up, his eyes were pleading. “You’re going after her, aren’t you?”

  “Of course, I am.” Levi took several deep breaths, fighting for control. “I need you to send out feelers to crime families nationwide. Tony may not even be in Utah, and we’ve got to find him. Ralph said Tess took a Yellow Cab, so I’m going to call their main office and find out where the cab dropped her.” He headed for the door. “Call my cell phone as soon as you have any information.”