by Jordan Dane
It had taken two men—Lewis and Booker—to carry Kinkaid from where he’d fallen to a dugout carved into the side of a cliff. Even inside, rain leached through stone crevasses. And the interior of the cavern was like a sieve, with water following gravity and forming rivulets in the eroded sandy soil. The sound of the rushing water echoed in the dark chasm, magnifying the noise tenfold.
Getting out of the wind had made a big difference. Alexa flashed a light onto the walls to look for higher ground. Others on her team did the same. Beams strafed the inside of the cavern, and good fortune shone back again.
The cave was deeper than she first thought.
“Take him up there and find a dry spot,” she told Lewis and Booker. And to the others, she said, “Let’s make camp and start a fire. Looks like we’ll have plenty of time to dry out. We’re here until the weather clears.”
She followed the men carrying Kinkaid and helped break out his bedroll and a pad to insulate him from the wet ground. This deep into the cave was noticeably cooler, which would help bring down Kinkaid’s fever, but she’d need a fire to prevent the chills she knew would come. And although the area where they had him was cramped, she’d make it work.
“I’ll check him over to see what’s wrong. Set the rest of his gear up here,” she told Booker. “I have a feeling I’ll need to search for those pills he was taking.”
“You’ll need a fire up here, too,” Lewis offered. “I’ll take care of that once we get one going below.”
“Thanks, Hank.”
Before he left, Hank Lewis told her, “You were right to pull him off the trail when you did, but I admire the guy. He’s one fierce lunatic.”
“Yeah, he is. And it scares me to hear you say that.” She grinned.
When she was alone with Kinkaid, she switched on her flashlight again and set it on a rock ledge next to him, giving her a pale light to work under. She unzipped and unbuttoned his wet clothes, peeling them off layer by layer. Kinkaid was burning up. Heat radiated off his body. And he’d started to ramble and mutter nonsense with his eyes closed. He was already delirious.
When she got down to his T-shirt, she pulled out her knife and cut it off, the easiest way to remove the last wet layer. That was when she noticed the soggy bandage—soaked in blood, not rainwater. She peeled back the dressing to get a better look, then rolled him over to check his back. A bullet wound, and it had punched clean through.
“You crazy son of a bitch,” Alexa cursed. To control her anger, she called over her shoulder, “Hank, get me the first-aid kit. Our boy’s been shot.”
While she waited for fresh bandages, she tugged at his pack and rummaged through his stuff. She found his iPod in an unzipped pouch and tossed it aside as she reached into the bottom of a side pocket, looking for the pills she’d seen him swallow. When she found them, she held the container toward the light and recognized the medication.
“Antibiotics. You thought you could hide this?” She wanted to curse at the unconscious bastard, but a part of her understood what he’d done. He was a brave man, driven to do the right thing. And with innocent lives in the balance, he’d chosen to ignore the dangers to himself.
That didn’t excuse what he’d done. Kinkaid had lied to her. And worse—now he’d become a liability.
Hours later
Alexa jerked her head when she heard a sharp pop. She opened her eyes to see sparks from the fire spiraling into the roof of the cave. The sound had come from the crackling fire that burned nearby, the only defense from the chill of the cave. And the pale glow from two fire pits cast undulating shadows across the stone cavern.
Kinkaid was asleep next to her. She watched the rise and fall of his bare chest. His breathing was shallow, more like an agitated pant. When she reached over to place fingers to the side of his neck, she noticed his pulse was elevated. Not a good sign, but at least he was on the right side of the dirt for now. The meds she’d given him had allowed Kinkaid to sleep.
She had nodded off sitting up, too tired to care about her numb rear end and a rock jamming her back. Her men had traded standing watch and kept the fires stoked. The warmth of the fire and her exhaustion had caught up with her. And the steady drone of water in the cave and the rumbling of the storm made it real easy to fall asleep.
For much of the night, she’d been alone with her thoughts and old memories. A sane person wouldn’t be here, but Alexa was where she wanted to be. The adrenaline rush of a mission was addictive, and the real juice came from wielding justice. She was making a real difference in the world—her way and without all the hoopla that came with media attention. The last thing she wanted was the media or the law second-guessing what she did for the Sentinels. Not many people would understand. Then again, not many did what she was trained to do.
No wonder she didn’t have room in her life for a man who wasn’t connected to all this—a man like Garrett Wheeler or Jackson Kinkaid. No one else would understand or accept the life she lived. And no one else would live as much in the moment.
That made her interest in Seth Harper all the more intriguing. What had made her turn the corner to pursue someone like Harper, a guy who would be completely invested in any physical relationship with a woman? He’d have expectations and needs. And she’d feel guilty not giving him what he deserved and had a right to expect. What the hell did that say about her? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. You’re a real piece of work, Marlowe.
Alexa stretched and looked for a distraction to keep her awake. She saw the iPod pouch Kinkaid had brought with him on the ground near his pack. She’d tossed it there. It was too tempting to listen to his taste in music and find out why he’d brought it; but when she knelt over him to retrieve it, Kinkaid groaned and stirred.
She stowed the iPod in his gear and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. Kinkaid’s fever had gone down, but it was still there. And although getting him back on antibiotics had helped, the meds weren’t a permanent fix. Not by a long shot. Being stuck in the mountains of Cuba with a raging infection and no medical attention didn’t bode well for his future.
The damage had been done, and the infection would take its toll unless she got him to a hospital. Even then, it might be too late. His heart rate was elevated, and his breathing had turned shallow, even while he slept. Sepsis could turn severe and spread through his entire system and affect vital organs, causing irreparable damage.
Alexa poured water onto a torn section of Kinkaid’s T-shirt. She pressed the damp cloth across his brow and down his neck and chest. When his eyes blinked open, and it looked like he might stay awake, she reached across him to retrieve his meds.
“Hey,” he mumbled. “What h-happened?”
“You passed out,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Here, take this.” She raised his head and gave him water from his hydration pack to take with his pills. “When was the last time you took these?”
She held up the bottle of pills he had stashed in his pack. Kinkaid squinted at the label until she saw his recognition. Then he shifted his gaze and stared at her between sluggish blinks. Each time he closed them, she thought he’d go back to sleep. With his face silhouetted against the light of the fire, shadows made it hard for her to tell if he was still awake.
“I don’t remember,” he muttered. “Lost track.”
“This is pretty strong stuff, but not enough to knock out the infection you jump-started.” She narrowed her eyes. “What were you thinking?”
When he didn’t answer, she grabbed his chin to keep him alert and ventured a guess. “You didn’t trust us to get the job done. You couldn’t sit back and let someone else take care of your friend. Is this about playing hero for a woman?”
“What?” He raised his head and winced with pain before he collapsed back. “What are you talking about?”
“Kate. What’s she to you?”
“That’s not important,” he argued. “She’s a…friend.” Kinkaid wasn’t in a sharing mood. The fever had made him surly. And his bad attitud
e had yanked her trigger.
“Why couldn’t you let Garrett and my team handle this? You asked for our help. If you didn’t trust us to do the job, why did you call in the first place?”
Even though she kept her voice low to avoid waking up her men, her venomous delivery made her point clear. She wouldn’t put up with his macho attitude, not after he put her team and their mission at risk.
“I didn’t call Garrett. Joe did.” He tried to sit up again and grimaced with the pain. “Believe me. He’d be the last guy I’d call.”
Garrett had warned her that he and Kinkaid had a history, and he’d refused to let her in on the story. Something must have gone terribly wrong. And from the look on Kinkaid’s face, she wouldn’t be learning the truth anytime soon.
Did he love Kate, the woman he had risked his life for?
Kinkaid was the kind of man who didn’t open up easily. She knew that firsthand. Any woman who got under his skin would be special. Alexa felt a strange pang of jealousy toward a woman she’d never met.
For both their sakes, she needed a change of subject and a softer tone if she expected him to keep talking.
“So why did these men hit the fund-raiser? A Haitian missionary school event wouldn’t be my first choice to find wealthy patrons worth ransom bucks. You have any theories?”
“Yeah, one. I think they were after me.”
“What?” She had to admit his answer hit her between the eyes. “This I gotta hear.”
He took a deep breath, and for a long moment, she wasn’t sure he’d keep talking. Eventually he did.
“There’s been an increase in drug-cartel hit squads. I thought it had something to do with payback. The terrorists called out my name at the fund-raiser and demanded to know where the American was. Maybe I brought this to Kate’s door.” The pained expression on his face told her he wasn’t done with his explanation. “I raised my hands and was prepared to go with them to find out, but that’s when things got crazier. And one of those bastards was gonna shoot a kid.”
“Sounds like you did what you had to do.” She reached over and touched his arm. “Those men brought AK-47s to a school fund-raiser. And you said it yourself. They might have known your name, but they probably were only looking for an American to take hostage. All of this is on their heads, not yours.”
“Yeah, but what if those cowards were after me for another reason? This could be retribution for what I’m doing.”
Ignoring the door he’d opened wasn’t her style. She barged in with a question that was none of her business.
“And what are you doing…exactly?” she asked. “I mean, if you think they came after you for something, you must have a good reason to believe that.”
Kinkaid didn’t answer. His silence conveyed enough. Trust didn’t come easy for her either. Although she couldn’t blame him, a hollow feeling left her wishing he trusted her with the truth about the man he’d become and why. That would work for starters. He stared at her until his eyes slowly closed.
Before he drifted off, she had something to say.
“Look. If it hadn’t been for you, these hostages wouldn’t stand a chance. Now they have us. And we’ll find them, Jackson.” She tried to sound reassuring and had no idea if he was even listening. “You and me have ghosts in our pasts. And I swear, if I have any say, Kate won’t be another one for you. We’re here to help. I hope you believe that.”
When she got to one knee, preparing to go, he reached for her hand and opened his eyes. “Thanks, Alexa. For what it’s worth, I’m glad Garrett sent you.”
Knowing Garrett, he probably sent her to serve his own agenda. He’d suspected her feelings toward Kinkaid when they’d first met. Whatever beef was between them, she had no doubt that Garrett had sent her with an ulterior motive in mind, whatever it was. None of that mattered now.
“Get some sleep,” she told him as she pulled his sleeping bag over his chest. “I’ll be close if you need me.”
Alexa left Kinkaid to his demons and walked toward the mouth of the cave. She needed time to think through her next move. She had a big decision to make.
Her men were asleep, and she was alone, except for Booker, who was standing watch. The wind kicked up near the cave entrance and swirled dirt until the blowing rain scattered it. And lightning hurled flashes of light across the heavens. A real show, and she had a front-row seat even though the worst of the storm had moved on. She crossed her arms and leaned a shoulder against stone, melding her body into the shadows.
One thought had plagued her ever since Kinkaid had collapsed at her feet. Could she leave him behind in his condition?
She knew what Garrett would do. Weighing the interest of one man against the team and the mission would not be a tough choice. She couldn’t spare a man to stay with him, especially since there wasn’t much anyone could do. And even if she got him on his feet with megadoses of antibiotics, it would only be a matter of time before the infection would gain control again, and he’d be more of a liability.
Kinkaid could die alone in Cuba. And he’d have no one to blame but himself. Damn you, Jackson. I told you what would happen if you screwed up.
Blaming him gave her no satisfaction. It only compounded a heartbreaking tragedy that was far from over.
The rain had been steady and only a thick stand of trees blocked the wind. Under a slanted tarp that had been staked down, Joselyne lay on the cold ground, with the other children pressed against her. Puddles had seeped into the thin blankets they’d been given. Even as tired as they were, none of them had slept. She felt the tension in the other children’s bodies because it matched her own. They jerked and held their breaths whenever the sky lit up from lightning and cracked with thunder.
And Sister Mary Katherine had not returned to protect them. Joselyne cried every time she thought of the brave nun.
Feeling sick to her stomach, she pulled the blanket over her head. When lightning cast a strange light through the trees, this time the light stayed, and she noticed it. She raised her head to see where it came from, and the other children did the same.
“What is it?” Andre whispered.
Like before when the sister had been taken away, the light from the camera glowed through the trees. Shadows of the bad men made them look larger than they were. And their angry cries made her cringe.
Were they killing someone else? Would she be next?
“I’m scared.” Faye sobbed and reached a small hand for Joselyne.
Joselyne wanted to tell them that she’d protect them now, but she couldn’t make a sound. She curled into a ball and wrapped her arms tight around her, wishing she were invisible. She couldn’t help the other children.
She was only a child like them.
CHAPTER 12
New York City
Sentinels Headquarters
Tanya had arranged a dormitory room in a secluded part of the Sentinels’ facility for Seth Harper to work in. Four walls with a locked door and a bath; his meals would be brought to him while he remained there. His secured accommodations were functional and practical since he wouldn’t be allowed to roam the belowground complex without supervision. She wished that she could have done more for him, but Seth hadn’t complained.
Jessie Beckett had planned to stay with him as he worked. Once he settled in, Jessie came looking for Tanya to tell her that Harper was ready to start and wanted to share his plans. Tanya brought members of her team and joined him in his room. When they entered the quarters, Seth Harper was sitting at the desk in front of a computer with the multiple monitors that they’d provided.
He swiveled his chair around and waved a greeting. “Hey. Sit wherever you want.” Jessie took a corner of his bed and the others crowded into the room.
“Would you mind if I downloaded music to work by?” Seth asked. “Maybe Lil’ Wayne or Three Days Grace.” His face was deadpan serious.
Jessie was the only one who knew what he was talking about. Although she had smiled and looked away, she was
definitely entertained. Tanya liked her from the first moment they’d met months earlier.
“Whatever works for you, honey,” Tanya said to Seth before she introduced her team. She’d brought them along for their cynical nature, to test Harper one last time before she turned him loose. “Now tell us what you have in mind.”
“I’ll focus my initial search on the high-density bandwidth that it took to upload the video. In that part of the world, it shouldn’t be too hard to find. They’ve got to be using a cell phone to connect to the Internet. They wouldn’t count on wireless in such a remote area. Once I know what I’m looking for, I can use a program to triangulate their position.”
“What kind of program?” One of her techs looked skeptical.
“I’ve got something that operates like a fake cell tower,” Harper began. “Cell phones in a specific grid are tricked into transmitting hardware serial numbers, phone numbers, and other information to law enforcement. In this case, it’ll be me. The user won’t know it’s happening. And the program works long-range and off satellites.”
“That’s Triggerfish? It’s nothing new,” one of her team argued. “And I’d question how long-range it is.”
“Plus you need a court order to use it with the phone companies. The Patriot Act requires one,” Simon Bechtel, one of her senior shift supervisors, weighed in on the subject.
Tanya knew the Patriot Act had its share of controversy when it came to surveillance. The act was passed into law with overwhelming support from Congress as a counterterrorism measure to broaden law enforcement’s authority to use wiretaps and other similar measures. And the debate on certain provisions raged on. Yet she had an appreciation for fighting terrorism by whatever means possible, even if it meant bending the law to do it. That’s what her employer, the Sentinels, were all about—a vigilante group of international protectors who weren’t hampered by laws when it came to dispensing justice.
She was interested to see how Seth Harper would handle the pushback from her team and the intimidating Simon Bechtel. Bechtel had an arrogant way of talking down to people, especially when he thought he had the upper hand, like now.
