Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run

by O'Neal, Pepper

  “Good, then I won’t have to mention it.”

  “Thanks,” she said, biting back a chuckle at his dry tone. “Hell, if I’d just listened to you about Nick in the first place, none of this would’ve happened.”

  He cleared his throat. “That’s not all your fault, luv. Some of it—hell, most—of it’s mine. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you. If I’d approached it differently, you wouldn’t have gotten defensive.”

  “You were worried about me. And you were right about Nick. I was just too dumb to see it.” She took his hand, gave it a squeeze. “There’s nothing I can say, except I’m so terribly sorry. Not only for the trouble I’ve caused, but also for the lack of trust I’ve shown you. I promise I’ll try to do better.”

  Levi groaned. “Damn it, luv. How the hell am I supposed to bawl you out when you say something like that?”

  “I imagine if you just wait awhile, I’ll do something else you can lecture me for.”

  “No doubt.” He chuckled, slipped his hand out of hers, and put his arm around her. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you rest awhile?”

  “Yeah. I feel like I need to sleep for a month.” She nestled her head on his shoulder. “There is something you could help me with though.”

  “What?”

  “I have to go see Nick and tell him I’ll be there to testify if he decides to go to trial. Hopefully, once he hears Tony’s dead, he’ll just plead guilty. I’d really like for all this to be over.”

  “Let his lawyer tell him. You don’t need to do it personally.”

  “Yes, I do. He betrayed my trust more than anyone else ever has. Even my mother never tried to kill me. So I need to look him in the eyes and tell him he didn’t win.” She took a deep breath. “That means I have to face him.”

  Reaching over, she took his free hand in hers and linked their fingers. “But I’m afraid.”

  “Nick can’t hurt you. The guards won’t allow him to touch you.”

  Embarrassed, she shifted in her seat. “Not physically. But the spiteful things he used to say to me always wreaked havoc with my confidence. I knew in my heart they weren’t true, but my head felt differently. And by the time I realized I didn’t love him and needed to break it off, I didn’t even know myself.” She studied the patterns in the carpet. “I tell myself it doesn’t matter what he thinks. And it really doesn’t. Not anymore.” Raising her head, she met his eyes. “But I’m afraid seeing him, and hearing him say all those things to me again, could destroy what self-confidence I’ve managed to regain. I don’t want that to happen.”

  “Then don’t go see him.”

  “If I don’t, he wins.” She took another deep breath, wondering if he could see in her eyes how hard this was for her to ask. If I’m ever going to be able to give and accept trust, I’ve got to start somewhere. “But I need you to come with me and hold my hand.”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  ***

  Monday, May 6, 2:12 p.m., Utah State Prison, Draper, Utah:

  Tess dreaded the next few minutes. She had to face Nick. She knew that. But, oh God, she didn’t want to.

  Sitting on the visitor’s side of the glass security shield, she shifted on her chair, twisting her hands in her lap.

  Ironic, how growing up—and facing the monsters not under the bed—turned out to be so much harder than you thought it would be when you were young and eager to try it. In the past year, she’d discovered that courage required constant care and feeding. At least hers did.

  When they brought Nick in, she almost didn’t recognize him. His face looked haggard. Dark shadows danced under his bloodshot eyes, and he blinked repeatedly as if bothered by the light. Dressed in a prison uniform, his hands cuffed in front of him, with leg chains around his ankles, he looked far less intimidating than he did in one of his thousand-dollar suits.

  The guard brought him to the seat across from Tess. As he sat down behind the glass, Nick’s bleary eyes focused on her and narrowed. His chin came up. He picked up the telephone attached to his side of the counter. She picked up the one on hers.

  “Come to gloat?” he demanded.

  “No. I’ve come to give you some information.”

  “Any information I need I can get from my attorney. You really don’t expect me to take your word for anything, do you?”

  “Your attorney will confirm this, but I wanted to tell you myself.”

  “I see. So are you going to tell me or just hint at it?”

  “Tony’s dead. He was killed in Las Cruces, New Mexico, last Tuesday while trying to kill me.”

  Nick stared at her. “Tony? Dead?”

  “Yes. And I wanted you to know that if you go to trial, I’ll be there to testify.”

  “And I’m supposed to take the word of a stupid, lying, smartass whore like you?”

  Surprise filled her with warmth. His insults didn’t hurt. Not even a little. His opinion no longer counted. Delighted, she smiled at him. “Believe what you want. As I’ve already said, your attorney will confirm it.”

  “Why, Tess?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why did you turn on me?”

  “If you have to ask, you wouldn’t understand.”

  “You’re my fiancée. My property. I own you.” A touch of madness showed in his eyes. “You were supposed to accept all my decisions and obey me without question.”

  “Only a fool would believe that.” Little wings of horror fluttered in her stomach as images of the disastrous marriage she’d so narrowly escaped crowded her mind. She swallowed back the bitter bile inching up her throat. “I stopped being your fiancée the day you shot two little girls and their parents in cold blood. And after what you just said, I’m very glad that I’ll never be your wife.”

  “What’s wrong with what I said? The Mormons teach wives to obey their husbands.”

  “I’ll bet the Mormons expect the husbands to be good and honorable men. And there’s nothing good or honorable about you.” She held up a hand before he could speak. “But I’m not a Mormon. Neither are you, because last I heard, Mormons didn’t believe in murder. And besides, we were never married.”

  “That makes no difference. You’re mine, Tess. You’ll always belong to me.”

  “You’re wrong about that, too.”

  “I still have friends and contacts on the outside. It’s easy enough to put a contract out on you. You won’t live long.”

  “You don’t scare me, Nick. Not anymore.” As the words came out, she realized with shock it was true. “Put as many contracts out on me as you want. Killing a witness in a federal case is a capital offense. With your record, the jury won’t be able to send you to death row fast enough. And if I die, they can still use my deposition to convict you on the other murders anyway.”

  His lips thinned into a tight, narrow line. “You won’t escape, Tess.”

  She shrugged. “I already have. Goodbye, Nick,” she added. Then she hung up the phone and rose.

  “I’ll get you, bitch,” he screamed. “I’ll get you.”

  He shouted it over and over as the guards dragged him away. Tess watched him and felt nothing but pity. But she thrust the feeling aside. Nick didn’t deserve any.

  Levi waited for her on the other side of the door. The minute she emerged, he enveloped her in a hug. “What’d he say?”

  “The usual insults. Oh, and he’s going to put a bunch of contracts out on me.”

  He guided her down the hallway to the exit. “Nothing new then. Are you frightened?”

  “Not really.” When his eyebrows edged toward his hairline, she smiled. “He’ll try what he’ll try, Levi. I can’t stop him. Jonas’s frozen his trust fund, so he has no way to pay for a hit. What can he really do?”

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t like it. Convicts have a barter system that’s very effective, and Nick still has friends in the underworld.” He unlocked his car and opened her door for her. “I want you to be extra careful while I see what I can do about this.�
��

  She laid her hand on his cheek. “Let it go. It’s over. He’s just blowing hot air.”

  He shook his head and ushered her into the car. As he slid behind the wheel, he said, “I heard him yelling when you came out. What was he saying?”

  When she told him, he cursed.

  She sighed. “Forget it, Levi. It’s finished.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” The burning ice in his eyes made her shiver. “But it will be soon, Tess. I promise you.”

  ***

  Wednesday, May 8th, 11:22 a.m., a diner, near the Intermodal Hub in Salt Lake City, Utah:

  Levi sipped his coffee and watched Graves waddle into the café. Although somewhat uncomfortable asking the KSS for help, he shrugged off his qualms. He’d use any weapon available to save Tess.

  “Hello, Mr. Komakov. I hope meeting here didn’t inconvenience you too much.” As Levi shook his head, Graves sat down at the table. His smile was pleasant, his eyes wary. “Did Jonas ask you to contact me?”

  “No. I’m here on my own.” Levi paused while the waitress brought Graves a diet root beer. “Jonas doesn’t know about this,” he said when she’d gone.

  Graves frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but Nick McKenzie is currently at the Utah State Prison in Draper, awaiting trial.”

  “Yes, I know. What of it?”

  “Tess went to see him on Monday to tell him that if he does go to trial, she’ll testify. He’s still determined to kill her.”

  Graves shifted on his chair. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Nick’s threatening to put additional contracts out on her, and if I recall, you weren’t pleased with that idea.”

  “Of course not, but Nick’s in prison. He can’t do anything about it now.”

  “Oh, come now, Graves. You and I both know that convicts have their own barter systems. And I’m sure you realize that Nick has friends and former employees on the outside who’d take on something like this just for the bragging rights to better their position in another crime family.”

  Graves loosened his tie. “I suppose when you put it that way...but I’m still not sure why you’re telling me.”

  “I’ve done all I can. I’ve taken care of Tony, who was Nick’s main assassin. But if he gets someone else to accept a contract, I may not be able to stop it. And Tess is tired of living with bodyguards. She wants to get on with her life.”

  “That’s understandable, but I don’t see—”

  “Nick’s a threat. He’s a threat to Tess, and if I read you right when you visited Jonas, you feel he’s a threat to the KSS. And they could—”

  “How’d you find about the KSS? If Jonas—”

  Levi cut him off with a gesture. He’d anticipated the question and used it to his advantage. “Nick has a very big mouth. Just another reason he’s a threat.”

  “I see.” Graves pursed his lips a moment. “That may well be, but what do you want me to do about it?”

  “I’m sure you know someone who knows someone in USP, who owes you a favor or two and would be happy to take care of a threat.”

  Graves considered him with guarded eyes. “And if I say that I can’t help you? What then?”

  “In that case, the KSS becomes common knowledge. It won’t take the media long to pick up on a hint or two. Of course, you may be able to stop your superiors from blaming you, but you never know, do you?”

  “Are you threatening me, young man?”

  “You catch on fast,” Levi confirmed with a grin. “I like that about you.”

  Graves glared at him. “If I help you, then what?”

  “Then I’ve never heard of you, and you’ve never heard of me.” He watched Graves’s calculating expression and decided to go for broke. “And I suppose I’d owe you a favor.”

  “A favor? Indeed.” A predatory light flickered in Graves’s eyes, making Levi wish he’d held his tongue. “In that case, perhaps I’ll see what I can do.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Monday, May 13th, 9:16 a.m., Utah State Prison, Draper, Utah:

  Wearing nothing but a towel, Nick stood with a long line of prisoners waiting to enter the showers. “What do you mean, nobody wants my contract?” he whispered to his friend. “Come on, Juan, the bragging rights alone would be worth it.”

  A guard barked out an order. The line moved forward.

  “Maybe so,” Juan whispered back. “But word on the street is anyone who hurts this woman will answer to your grandfather. Can’t find nobody willing to risk it.”

  “My grandfather’s just a crazy old man.”

  Juan shrugged. “So you say. But that Levi character’s bad news.”

  Nick swallowed but managed to make his shrug look casual. “Levi’s a wimp. He doesn’t even kill except in self-defense. Everyone knows that.”

  “Oh, yeah? Guess your friend Tony died of a heart attack.”

  “I don’t know how he died.”

  Nick selected an out-of-the-way nozzle in the large, open, communal shower. He hung his towel on a hook. Juan picked the showerhead to his right. A huge, dark-skinned man took the one on the left.

  “You have to keep trying,” Nick muttered as the hot water came on. “The Feds watch me too closely. I can’t make contact with the outside like you can.”

  Juan only grunted.

  “Look, damn it,” Nick hissed. “I told you I’d make it worth your while.”

  “Hear you need a snitch taken out.” The dark-skinned man on Nick’s other side shot him a wink. “That true?”

  “Might be.” Nick studied the man’s face. He looked Native American, with reddish-brown skin, straight black hair, brown eyes, and high cheekbones. The Mormons said Indians were remnants of the chosen people, whatever the hell that meant, but Nick couldn’t see anything special about them. He lathered up his bar of soap. “You got somebody who can help?”

  “Know anything about the Kolob Secret Service?” The man let loose a soft whistle as he stepped under the spray of hot water.

  Someone bellowed. Nick glanced over and saw two men exchanging blows. Then two more entered the fray. Within seconds, over a dozen naked, wet, and soapy men were pummeling each other. Shouts and curses bounced off the walls as the guards tried to restore order.

  Shaking his head at the stupidity of the situation, Nick turned back to his neighbor. “Yeah, I’ve heard of the KSS. What about them?”

  “They sent you a message.”

  A long, dark arm slammed into Nick. Pain ripped through his neck. Another blow hit his chest. He looked down. A soap-lathered shank stuck out between his ribs. Blood poured down his body, turning the water at his feet bright red.

  “What the hell’ve you done?” he croaked in disbelief. He tried to pull the shank free, but the agony dropped him to his knees. He felt faint and clamped a hand over his neck wound. Blood spurted out between his fingers—in time with his heartbeats. He couldn’t breathe. His vision blurred. “Don’t you know who I am?”

  “Sure. You’re someone who pissed off the KSS.”

  ***

  4:22 p.m., the office of Bartholomew Graves, Prove, Utah:

  With morbid fascination, Graves read the coded report from the KSS. Scanning the brief document, he learned the officials at Draper prison had no evidence and no suspects in the murder of Nick McKenzie. And it looked unlikely they’d get any as the soap on the shank would have washed away any fingerprints. Good. If it were up to him, he’d give the killer a medal. Nick hadn’t deserved to breathe the same air as the rest of mankind. Graves wondered how the putz liked it in Hell. Not that he really believed in Hell. But imagining Nick, tortured and suffering in his own little corner of it, delighted him all the same.

  And the KSS made out like a bandit. Not only had a very real threat been removed, but Komakov now owed him a favor.

  Graves had been planning to have Nick disposed of—even before the meeting with Komakov. And he’d have done
it without the man’s promise of a favor. But he saw no reason to let him know that.

  If the rumors about Komakov were true, he had exceptional skills and excellent contacts. Equally important, he feared nothing. Or so it seemed. He was also known as a man of his word.

  Oh, yes. Levi Komakov would come in very handy indeed.

  ***

  Saturday, June 7, 9:13 a.m., the country estate of Jonas McKenzie, outside Salt Lake City, Utah:

  Disgusted with himself, Levi paused outside Tess’s room and took a deep breath to ease the knot in his chest. Damn it, if he could face a loaded gun without flinching, why was it so bloody hard to face her?

  He knocked then opened the door. “The cab’s here,” he told her. “You all packed?”

  “Yeah.”

  She kept her back to him. With a sigh, he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “I wish you’d let me drive you to the airport. It’s going to be hard enough not having you here. I’d like to spend as much time with you as I can before you’re gone.”

  A spasm of pain crossed her face. She opened her mouth, but he shushed her with a finger to her lips. If he let her speak, he’d never get this out.

  He took another deep breath. “I love you, Tess. I want to marry you. I know you don’t love me the same way,” he said as she tried to speak under his finger. “But maybe if you gave it some more time and stuck around, you could.” When she closed her eyes a moment, he continued. “I know, I know. You’ve tried.” Taking his finger from her lips, he trailed it down her cheek. “I’d like you to do me one small favor before you go.”

  “Anything.”

  “Let me kiss you goodbye.” He saw the refusal that flickered in her eyes before she hid it. “If you say no, I’ll understand,” he promised. “But I’d really like to kiss you. At least once.”