In the Black: Black Star Security

by Cynthia Rayne

  Rage blossomed inside of him. In his mind’s eye, Zane saw Ellie the first night she’d come here, broken and bruises. He didn’t just want to stop Dave and his merry band of assholes. Zane needed to hurt them.

  No, he wanted to hurt Dave. Maybe even kill him.

  Neutralizing a target in the field was different. It had been cold, a tactical maneuver. Zane hadn’t felt a damn thing. It was all part of the operation.

  He clenched his fists. But Dave? This would be gratifying.

  “Christ. I get it now.” Nox shook his head sadly. “You went and fell in love with King’s baby sister, didn’t you? That’s why you ain’t bonin’ her either.”

  Zane opened his mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “And you’re itchin’ to get some payback, so you’re comin’ outta your skin.” He stubbed out his cigarette. “I get it.”

  “Yeah.” There was no point in refuting what was plain to see. “I’m not like most people. Love don’t bring out the best in me. It makes me darker.”

  King was in love, and the man acted like he was tripping through the clouds, high on acid. He hadn’t seen his brother in such a terrific mood for years. If he wasn’t so damn jealous, Zane would have found it irritating.

  “Nah, it’s not unusual at all. In my experience love’s the most dangerous emotion in the world.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. That’s why I keep women at arm’s length, but it’s too late for you, isn’t it?”

  “Much too late.”

  He’d been a goner since he’d spent the night on the beach with her. It felt like a hundred years ago. And conversely, or perversely it felt like last week.

  “You know that sovereign prick’s not gonna tell you jack.”

  “Yeah, Stormy thinks the mission’s doomed to fail.”

  “Not necessarily.” He scratched his chin. “If you wanna make him talk, you’re gonna have to pull it out of him.”

  The implication was clear. “I’m not doing that.”

  “And here I thought you loved her.”

  “I do.” He squared his shoulder.

  “Yeah? Well, if you don’t get the intelligence we need, your girlfriend’s gonna spend the rest of her days on the run from the authorities. Or in jail. If we stop the terror attack, she’s gotta fightin’ chance of gettin’ a reduced sentence.”

  What kind of crazy, upside down world am I in? Nox is making sense. And I’m sitting here listening to him.

  “Innocent folks will die, and these assholes won’t stop until they’re caught or killed.”

  Zane didn’t disagree with his assessment, but it didn’t mean he could torture the fucker either. Could he?

  Give him a black eye? Maybe. A couple of broken ribs? Hell yeah.

  “The way I see it, you don’t have a choice. And if you can’t, or won’t do it, I will.”

  “You’re cold as ice, aren’t you?” Unpleasant. He made inflicting pain and suffering on another human being almost sound patriotic.

  “Damn straight. You are standin’ beside a bonafide butcher.” There was a cruel twist to his lips.

  “And you’re what…? Proud of it.” At least Zane had the decency to be ashamed.

  “Why not? I realized somethin’ while I was watchin’ my targets, waitin’ to make a move. I’m not like other people, and I don’t wanna be. I’m not normal. I’m different.” He stabbed a finger at Zane. “And so are you. We do things regular folks can’t, and we do it to protect them.”

  “And what if I cross a line?”

  “So, what? Cross it. For God’s sake, grow a pair.”

  Zane shook his head.

  “You do whatever you want. I don’t give a damn either way.” Nox rested a fingertip on Zane’s chest, and he could almost feel it burning like the cherry red end of his cigarette. “But I’ll say this, you’ve got what it takes. All you’ve gotta do is let it out.”

  ***

  After Stormy called him back inside, Zane walked into the meeting room.

  Nox’s words were ringing in his ears, like one of West’s “come to Jesus” style meetings where he talked some sense into them. Only this had been an evil pep talk.

  The prisoner was still handcuffed. He stared straight ahead, not making eye contact.

  Zane deliberately took the seat across from him, placing himself in Dave’s field of vision. He stubbornly glanced to the side, looking out the window at the night sky instead.

  “All I wanna do is talk.”

  His nostrils flared, and Dave’s head swiveled back to face him. Slowly.

  “About what?”

  “Whatever you like.” Zane wanted to start a conversation like Stormy said. And he was on the other side of the door, listening in, ready to step in if Zane needed the help.

  He didn’t.

  There was something dreamlike about this meeting, as though it weren’t quite real. The wrath was building, like a tidal wave, turning his field of vision red, making him volatile, unpredictable. He was a powder keg, waiting for a match to strike.

  “I’m a sovereign citizen, and I’m not subject to your laws. I don’t answer to you or anyone.”

  “Oh, you’re gonna answer me.”

  Dave snorted. “I know my rights, and you are holdin’ me against my will. Your government is a corrupt organization. It ignores the needs of its people, instead, appeasin’ special interest groups and businesses.”

  Zane leaned forward. “Thanks for the indoctrination speech. In case you ain’t noticed, I’m not the law. You aren’t in a police precinct, and nobody read you Miranda rights. And you will answer my questions. Now.”

  Whenever they turned this fucker over to the FBI, they’d have some explaining to do. West figured they’d be so grateful to have the fugitive, the feds might overlook the civil liberties they’d run roughshod over. Hopefully.

  He’d had enough of this shit.

  “What’s the target, huh?” Stormy hadn’t found anything useful on the internet, and they’d stayed out of site, hunkered down somewhere out of satellite reach. “What are you boys plannin’ on hittin’? The post office? A federal buildin’?”

  Dave smirked. “What if we were? They work for the government.”

  “You terrorist boys like to hit targets that can’t fight back, huh? They attacked the World Trade Center instead of a military installation. Those people were just headin’ to work. McVeigh and his shitbird friend went after a federal building. All of them were civilians, just goin’ about their daily lives. We swore to protect them, not hurt them.”

  Dave turned away, pretending not to listen.

  Zane couldn’t wrap his head around how people who’d served in the military would be willing to hurt innocent people. It just didn’t make any sense, even if they had some higher purpose, it wasn’t worth the loss. He’d seen war up close and very personal, and some of those images still haunted him.

  “At least the Japanese hit Pearl Harbor. Yeah, the attack was unprovoked and came out of nowhere, but they didn’t go after women and children. McVeigh deliberately went after the daycare center. There’s no honor in that. And whatever you and your buddies are plannin’ isn’t about revenge against the government. You’re takin’ it out on other people just like you, who didn’t do a damn’ thing.”

  Dave swallowed, but said nothing.

  Jesus. This guy’s a brick wall.

  Time for another tactic. “Then let’s talk about Ellie.”

  His nostrils flared.

  I hit a nerve.

  “What about my girlfriend?” Dave’s eyes flashed. “You were all over her at the restaurant.”

  “What? Two friends can’t have a casual breakfast?”

  “Do you think I’m a fool? I saw the way you were lookin’ at her. I know she ran to you and Tommy when she was in trouble.”

  “What do you care? You beat her until she passed out.”

  Images flashed in front of his eyes. Zane saw his mother lying on the
kitchen floor. Her eyes had been blackened, blood poured from her nostrils.

  He could still hear his father roaring, calling her a “bitch” and worse as he pounded on her, taking his rage out on someone who loved him.

  Zane shook his head to scatter the wayward thoughts.

  “I….” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and Dave refused to look him in the eye once more.

  “Did you get off on it? Did it make you feel tough to push around someone who couldn’t fight back?” Zane stood and walked around Dave’s chair, circling him like a shark.

  His old man always felt better after he’d given Zane’s mother a beating. Almost as if it was a coping mechanism, a tension release.

  When he’d been a small boy, he had cowered beneath his bed, squeezing his eyes shut and putting his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the screams and cries. As an adolescent, his sister had pleaded with Zane to keep him from going downstairs and handling the situation once and for all.

  And one night, the tight leash he’d kept on his temper, came loose.

  A black rage had poured out of him, and Zane hadn’t been able to hold it back any longer. Years of suffering in silence, listening to his father berate and belittle the people he loved pushed him over the edge.

  Zane had done something terrible. And right now, in this moment, he was on the verge of doing it again.

  “Come on, tell me. How did it feel?” Zane leaned closer, placing his hands on the back of Dave’s chair.

  He leaned forward. “No, I didn’t do it to hurt her.”

  Zane hated it when assholes took out their shit on other people and refused to take responsibility for their actions.

  “No? Well, you did. Annie and Mack had to patch her up, and she still hasn’t healed.”

  Anger simmering, growing hotter by the second, Zane closed his eyes. His hands were shaking so much, it was almost like a nervous tick. His fingers kept curling into fists as he found the urge to slam his knuckles in Dave’s stupid face.

  “I did it for her own good! She wouldn’t shut up. I had to make her stop.”

  And suddenly this was no longer about the terror attack and saving innocent civilians.

  This was about taking down an abuser, getting payback for Ellie. Before Zane could stop himself, he grabbed a chair and slipped it beneath the door handle so Storm couldn't come in and break it up.

  “I see. You wanted her to be quiet. So, you blackened her eyes and bloodied her nose because she asked too many questions? Wouldn’t do what you said?”

  “Don’t judge me. You don’t have a clue why I did it, and I don’t owe you a goddamn explanation.”

  Enough is enough.

  With a roar, he launched himself at Dave, knocking him from the chair. He landed on the floor. Zane kicked him in the gut, and then in the ribs. And then Zane straddled him, balled up a fist, and let the prick have it.

  Dimly, he heard Storm roaring at the door, pounding on the wood, trying to make him stop, but Zane wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

  Zane seized Dave by the throat and squeezed, watching his face go purplish-red, and his eyes bug out.

  A few more seconds, and it would be over.

  The next thing he knew, the door splintered as King kicked it open. And then King and Stormy were pulling him off Dave who was prone on the floor. His eyes were black and swollen, blood dripped from his nostrils and mouth. He’d left the imprint of his fingers on Dave’s neck.

  And Zane wanted to do it all again.

  “What the fuck has gotten into you?” King shook him, trying to get his attention.

  Storm groaned. “Shit. This is all my fault. I never should’ve put Zane in the room with him.”

  “Get off me!”

  He shoved King and Storm away and backed himself against the wall. Zane didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted to keep going, keep swinging at Dave until he didn’t get up. And inexplicably, he felt like crying, curling up into a ball and letting all of it go.

  And then Ellie came running into the room.

  When she saw Dave, her eyes went wide, and she let out a scream. And then she glanced at Zane, taking in his injuries and piecing together what happened, shaking her head in disbelief.

  She knelt next to Dave, placing a hand on his chest.

  Zane stared down at his own bloodied fists. In his mind’s eye, he was fourteen years old, kneeling on the cold floor, watching his mother sob, clutching his father’s lifeless chest. And then she’d turned angry, incredulous eyes on him.

  And then it hit Zane. He’d almost killed Dave.

  “I’m sorry, Ellie. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “What is wrong with you? His hands are cuffed. Dave couldn’t fight back.” Ellie gave him the same look, and he felt like someone had just ripped his heart from his chest.

  Zane wanted to die. He’d never felt so disgusting, so dirty. He staggered toward the door, eager to escape.

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  Chapter 10

  “Come with me, I need your help.”

  “I can’t. I’m busy.”

  Storm stood in the doorway of Zane’s bedroom.

  It was mid-morning, and he hadn’t gone downstairs yet. He couldn’t look anyone in the eye. Zane knew West would want to have a talk with him, once things had died down. And he owed the team an apology.

  Last night, he’d unleashed, and everybody saw the ugliness inside. Zane was humiliated, and he wanted to be alone, lick his wounds in private.

  “Doing what?” Storm crossed his arms over his chest. “Brooding?”

  “Go away.” Zane was in no mood to deal with Storm and his crap.

  “Nope.” He leaned against the doorway, as though preparing to settle in for the duration. “Dave’s okay, you know. You didn’t kill him.”

  It was a piece of good news, but he refused to ask for more information. He didn’t want to encourage Storm to stay.

  Storm rolled his eyes. “Like I said, I need your help. You want to find these guys, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course, I do.”

  “Then come with me to the Bat Cave.” He waved a hand, indicating Zane should follow. Storm stopped midway down the hall and then tracked back. “You didn’t come.”

  “I just wanna—”

  “Hole up? And pretend we didn’t see you go all Mike Tyson on somebody? Sorry, it’s too late. But hey, at least you didn’t gnaw on the guy’s ear.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  “Yeah, I was, a tiny bit.”

  “You’re not gonna give this up, huh?”

  “Hell no. I’m prepared to stay here and be annoying until you give in.”

  “You know I did this to King once.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.” It’s a pain in the ass bein’ on the other side.”

  “Yup. Are you coming?”

  “Yeah.” He got to his feet and winced.

  “You okay?”

  “Fine.”

  Although, Zane was stiff and sore. Last night, he’d taken a couple of ibuprofen, but it had hardly touched the pain. He’d been in a world of hurt since King had given him the first beating over Savvy and he hadn’t recovered yet.

  He trudged down the hall after Storm. Thankfully, nobody seemed to be out and about. Thank God, Ellie was nowhere to be found. He didn’t think he could face her again.

  Not after what he’d done.

  Unfortunately, he was going to have to. She deserved to know why he’d gone after Dave with so much rage. It would probably be the last talk they’d ever have.

  Stop thinkin’ about it. Concentrate on the issue at hand.

  “You’re not really callin’ it the Bat Cave, are you?”

  “What do you think?” Stormy waggled his brows, clearly proud of himself.

  After they walked into the tech center, Storm pointed to a desk, indicating Zane should sit down, and Storm took the one beside it. He reached into a small, dorm-sized fridge and pulled out a
tangerine.

  “Want one?”

  The man’s devotion to produce was almost legendary. He’d never met a fruit or vegetable he didn’t like.

  “No, thanks.” Zane didn’t have much of an appetite, anyway. Besides, he bet the citrus would make his split lip sting even worse. “Okay, you got me down here. What do you need?”

  “Aren’t we touchy today?”

  “We aren’t anything. I am in a shitty mood. What. Do. You. Need?” He enunciated each word clearly this time, in case Storm had missed the goddamn point.

  “Yeah, I noticed. Are you okay?”

  Zane thought about lying, but he both felt and looked like shit.

  “No.”

  “You really love her, don’t you?” When Zane didn’t answer, Storm spoke up. “I can see it.”

  Apparently, everybody did. Except Ellie. She’d been slack-jawed when he told her.

  “Yeah, I do.” And it was hopeless.

  “It makes sense.”

  “What does?”

  “Your behavior last night. Look, we’ve been in some hairy situations before, but I’ve never seen you act so...” He sighed. “You got so feral because you were protecting Ellie.”

  “Not my proudest moment.”

  “I’m sorry I put you in that position.” Storm fidgeted with his computer, moving the mouse and straightening the keyboard.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Alright then.” Storm cleared his throat. “Let’s get started.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Zane was familiar with computers, but he only used them to stream video and check e-mail, and not much else.

  “You and I are gonna go on the dark web.”

  “The dark what now?”

  “Come with me, to a land of pure ruination,” he said in a sing-song tone like Willy Wonka from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. “What you see on Google is only a fraction of the internet. There’s the deep web, and then there’s the dark web. And we’re going to the dark side.”

  “So, what’s on it?” Zane had heard the term before but didn’t know much about it. As a SEAL, he’d been more involved in the “boots on the ground” part of operations.

  “Lots of stuff. You have to use a Tor browser to get places, and it isn’t indexed like the regular web. Some of it’s legit.” He shrugged. “You know, people who don’t want to be tracked by Big Data, which I get. And the rest? Well, it’s where smart drug dealers, pedophiles, and human traffickers hide.”