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Alexander King Thriller Series: Books 1-3

Page 46

by Bradley Wright


  “We can stop and grab snacks too. Half the price of the ones at the airport.”

  “That’s okay,” he said. “I’m not much of a snacker.”

  “Yeah . . .” Cali patted his hand. “That one package of Fritos or M&M’s might ruin your six-pack. I wouldn’t be able to sleep with you if that happened. So, good thinking.”

  He didn’t throw her a playful laugh as he normally would have. She patted him again, this time without speaking. She didn’t know him very well yet, but Cali was a quick study and wasn’t only focused on herself. She could tell he was trying to work something out in his mind, so she let him.

  The thing his brain was working on now was the same as in the hotel room. However, they were now driving past the corner where he stood and watched that innocent girl be taken inside the lion’s den, and all he could do was fester on how he’d let it happen. As they passed the entrance to Ortega’s place, King made up his mind that he just couldn’t leave Mexico City without at least trying to save her. All other orders be damned.

  King took out his phone and pressed Sam Harrison’s contact.

  “No news of mayhem in Mexico City this morning,” Sam answered. “You must have actually shown restraint.”

  “I did, but I’m not leaving.” King glanced over at Cali. She didn’t react. “I need you in Mexico City ASAP. Get Zhanna here, too, if you can. And I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Hear what?” Sam said. “I’m actually proud of you. At least you’re waiting long enough to get some help.”

  “Can you be here by tonight?”

  “Don’t see why not. Let me make arrangements.”

  “Don’t tell Director Lucas.” Robert Lucas was the director of the CIA. King knew he wouldn’t be happy about King changing plans. As always, King believed in asking forgiveness, not permission.

  “You don’t say,” Sam said, playing it up. “Seriously, though, Xander. When this one is over, there is no use for working for the CIA anymore. You never do what they ask anyway.”

  The airport exit was coming up on his right.

  “Let’s worry about the girl for now. I have to get Cali to her plane. I’ll see you tonight.”

  King ended the call and immediately addressed Cali. “Sorry. I know we planned on going back to—”

  “Don’t apologize to me, Alexander. I knew who you were when I decided to travel with you. You don’t owe me anything. Sounds like someone is in trouble. Save them, then worry about seeing me again.”

  King gave a thankful smile. “I will see you again, right?”

  Cali leaned over as King pulled into short-term parking, in the parking garage just across from the airport’s entrance. She gave him a long kiss. “I certainly hope so, Mr. Special Agent.”

  “You know, I’m not just a piece of meat,” King teased.

  “Yeah, you are.”

  They both got out of the car. King left his bag in the backseat, but he grabbed Cali’s for her.

  “I’ll walk you in. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Not necessary. I’ll be just fine.”

  “I want to,” he said. “Besides, I have to run in and extend the car rental. It will be easier than calling since I’m already here.”

  Cali hooked her arm in his. “All right then. Lead the way.”

  Chapter Three

  King strolled across the walkway back to the parking garage. It was hard to watch Cali leave. The two of them had shared a fantastic couple of weeks. It was the most fun he’d had in a long time. He could still taste her cherry ChapStick as he rode the elevator up to the level where his car was parked. It took longer than he wanted at the rental counter. There was a line of impatient travelers waiting to get their vacation started. Unfortunately, he didn’t have his phone to pass the time; he’d left it in the car when he went in with Cali. Too many things on one’s mind makes it easy to forget the little things.

  King unlocked the rental and took a seat behind the wheel. He had a few hours to kill before Sam would be arriving. For the moment he was content to watch a few planes take off and land in the distance. His mind drifted from the task at hand—rescuing the girl from the grip of Raúl Ortega—all the way to the people in his life he had been missing desperately in the two years since he faked his own death to keep them safe. Sam had obtained a few photos of his niece, Kaley . . . she was getting so big. King missed hugging her and, of course, giving his sister a hard time for no reason. They were the only blood family he had left.

  Then there was Kyle. They may not actually be blood related, but Kyle was his brother nonetheless. He missed getting into girl trouble with him. Sam said he was doing well. He’d been on assignment with the CIA in several different locations. Sam mentioned he’d acquired quite a few skills, but the most impressive she’d heard about was his ability to blend in while undercover. He was no longer the rookie King was teaching a few years ago. King longed to see his friend’s growth for himself.

  His thoughts led him back to Sam’s suggestion on the phone last night. She’d mentioned they should go back to their vigilante team on several occasions. The only reason King hadn’t made the move to do so was his relationship with the president, and the promise King had made him. He’d vowed he would always be there to fight for the United States when the president needed him. King had no interest in going back on that promise; however, his mind was beginning to shift to the possibility of having his cake and eating it too. To come back to life, so to speak, and bring his team back with him. Taking mercenary missions, but also being available anytime the president needed him. King wasn’t sure the two could coexist, but it was a thought he was beginning to fall in love with.

  Aside from the people he missed from his former life, he missed his home in Kentucky. He missed his horses and being a part of the races. He missed the thrill of seeing them thunder down the track for a win. More simply, he missed living a life. His life. As selfless as King had been to give it all up, it was beginning to take its toll. Meeting Cali only exacerbated that feeling because he wanted to show her who he really was, aside from the human hunter he had become. She had awoken a side of him that had been lying dormant since the night he met Natalie Rockwell. He was falling in love with Cali, and it was dampening his desire to remain living in the shadows. King was at a point now where the people who had threatened his friends and family were all dead. They had been the reason he had to disappear. Maybe now he could at least partially return to his old reality. And though he didn’t want to get ahead of himself, these thoughts of living an actual life while still fighting for his country were exciting.

  King’s trance was broken by the buzzing of his phone that rattled in the console’s cup holder. It was Sam.

  “You on your way?”

  “What the hell is going on down there, Xander?”

  King’s glowing mood instantly shifted to anxiety as he sat up in his seat.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve called twenty times in the last half hour. I thought you were leaving the Raúl Ortega deal alone until I arrived?”

  “I was walking Cali into the airport and left my phone in the car,” King said. “And what do you mean about Ortega? I haven’t done a thing.”

  “We’ve got serious problems. I have to be quick. The CIA stopped me from getting on the plane. They’re walking toward me right now, and they’re going to take my phone. You’re all over the news. I know you didn’t do this, but you’re going to have to find a way to prove you didn’t. You have to run. They’ll be on you there in no time.”

  “Sam? What the—”

  “Just listen!” Sam shouted. “Do what I tell you in this order. Drive to a back alley somewhere, check your trunk, then search for yourself on Google. Do not text me back. They will have my phone. Break your phone and leave it in the alley. Pick up your go bag at our designated spot and disappear until I, or someone you know, gets ahold of you. Do you understand?”

  “Sam? What happened?”

&nbs
p; “I can’t—” There was some rustling on her end of the phone. Then she shouted, “Just do what I said!”

  The line went dead.

  Sam isn’t one for games, and when she was urgent about something, King knew it was serious. So as much as he wanted to Google himself, and as much as he wanted to check his trunk, he denied his urges, started the car, threw it in reverse, then slammed it into drive and pushed the pedal to the floor. The tires squealed over top of the concrete, and just as he was going out the one-way exit, the flashing lights of several police cars were entering the parking garage on the other side of the partition.

  A million thoughts were running through King’s head. The first of which: was Cali safe on her plane? The second was, what the hell could have happened that was so bad they stopped Sam from getting on a plane to come to him? As he drove back toward the city, he dialed Cali.

  “Hey, miss me already?” she said.

  “Are you on the plane?”

  “Just boarded, everything okay? You sound stressed.”

  “It’s fine. I’m going to have to lose this phone. I’ll contact you from a burner. Fly safe.”

  King ended the call. He was worried the police would also be checking the plane for him, but then he remembered that the ticket was still under the cover Sam had given him in the Cayman Islands. Sam specifically said to Google himself, so that meant Alexander King was all over the news.

  A supposed dead man.

  King didn’t know what was going on, but it seemed as though he was going to have to work fast as hell to figure it out.

  Chapter Four

  King did his best to follow all traffic rules so as not to stand out. He remembered that the zoo wasn’t much farther than around the corner from the airport. It wouldn’t be very busy there yet, and he didn’t figure many police officers would be patrolling that area. Besides, his rental car might be known to them, so it was more important to get somewhere quick and start figuring out what was going on than to stay out on the road—exposed.

  King exited and followed the signs to the zoo. The public parking area had a gate that was closed, so he continued past it. Only a quarter mile ahead, he spotted an entrance for a public pool. There was no gate, so he turned that way. He drove forward to the pool’s parking area. It was mostly empty, just a couple of cars near the entrance. He pulled to a stop at the far end of the parking lot. He had 360 degrees of good sight lines. No one was going to sneak up on him.

  Though he could hardly wait to look for the news about him online, he had to open the trunk first. A lot of things were running through his mind as he exited the car. If there was a news story, and the CIA was blocking Sam from coming down to Mexico City, he clearly had been framed for something. But what? Was there a bomb in his trunk? Some stolen weapons? Drugs? None of these things made sense for making national news. And that made him nervous.

  King stepped up to the trunk and pressed the button on the keypad. It popped open a little. The sun was shining bright, and the day was beginning to heat up, but that had nothing to do with why his palms were sweating. He couldn’t help but think what he saw next was going to change his life dramatically in some way. Maybe it already had.

  He lifted the trunk and slammed it back down immediately. It was his visceral reaction. He scanned the area around him to make sure no one was coming; then he lifted it once again. There was a porcelain-skinned, brown-haired girl lying there with her eyes closed. Her hands and feet were bound with rope, and she had a gag in her mouth. King’s fingers shot forward and checked for a pulse. He let out a sigh of relief when he found one. At least she wasn’t dead. She was in a pink tank top, sweat stains at the armpits, and a pair of white shorts that landed halfway down her thighs. She looked young, maybe seventeen or so.

  King’s fears were correct: this was going to change his life. He had no idea who she was, but she had to be someone important for national news to be covering it. And though he didn’t know what the coverage was about, he was sure it somehow incriminated him for her being there. It was the only thing that made sense. King reached down, untied the rag from behind her neck, and pulled it from her mouth. He walked around the car, opened the passenger door, and laid the seat back. Then he lifted her out of the trunk and placed her in the front seat. He did his best to check her entire body for any sort of tracking device without violating her. It was a fine line.

  The girl was lifeless. It was obvious to King that she’d been drugged. That was the reason she was alive without waking up. But he checked her arm anyway just to confirm it. The red injection point was easy to see on her almost translucent skin. King shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side. His mind was in a million places, but all he was trying to do was focus on the next best step. The area was still clear, but King knew that in the age of technology, they would quickly camera-track his car to the zoo.

  The obvious thing would be to call Director Lucas and let him know he had the girl. However, given that Sam was being cut off as his go-through contact, it was clear even Lucas doubted King’s innocence. Which meant that whatever evidence the news was airing must somehow be 100 percent incriminating. Otherwise, Director Lucas would never believe King would do such a thing. With the police already after him in Mexico City, King’s best guess was that this was the daughter of someone very important. And they would soon be all over his current location via the cell phone in his pocket. He needed information; then he needed his go bag so he could disappear until he could figure a few more things out.

  King got inside the car and opened his phone. He went to the Google app and searched his name. There were links to several related videos, most from the days he was frequenting the Kentucky Derby with his horses. But one stood out to him immediately. The thumbnail photo beside the video link was what looked like a car in a parking garage. The CNN link read “Dead Secret Agent Returns to Kidnap Senator’s Daughter.”

  A few years ago King wouldn’t have been worried about the video at all. He knew he hadn’t kidnapped the girl, so the video wouldn’t show absolute evidence. But in 2021 everything was different. Technology was on a scary new level, and videos called “deep fakes” were beginning to pop up everywhere. These deep fakes were videos that were so well doctored, you could put Richard Nixon’s face on Tom Brady’s body, and you couldn’t tell the difference whether it was the former president giving a post-game speech or Brady himself. And King knew before he ever even pushed play, that was what this was going to be. He just hoped it wasn’t the best fake he’d ever seen.

  When King tapped the video, it filled his phone’s screen.

  He knew immediately he was in the worst sort of trouble. It was only a six-second clip, but someone had made it look unmistakably like he was stuffing the same girl he’d just taken out of there into his trunk. It looked so real, in fact, that he had to search his memory just to make sure he wasn’t drugged and hadn’t done it without knowing. He paused the video when his fake self was looking over at the camera right after he slammed the trunk shut. Even though it wasn’t possible, it was unmistakably King’s own face looking toward the camera. The way whoever had done this edited the video, it was clear they wanted people to be sure it was Alexander King.

  That’s why Director Lucas was cutting him off from Sam. This video was irrefutable evidence that King had kidnapped the girl. No matter how much King knew it wasn’t true, none of it mattered. He was James Bond here in Mexico City. The cover he’d made Sam give him just for fun didn’t seem all that funny now. Regardless, King couldn’t prove he wasn’t in that video. So the only way out of this entire thing would be to find the people who’d made the fake—and prove they did.

  King had never felt so lost. Everything he’d ever done as a Special Operator, and as one of the CIA’s secret weapons, had always had long odds. But as he sat there in the front seat of that car, looking down at video evidence of himself committing a horrible crime and knowing the world tended to work from a “perception is reality” mind-set,
he’d never felt more defeated.

  That’s when he heard sirens in the distance.

  The walls were closing in.

  The entire world was coming for him.

  Chapter Five

  King threw the car in drive and spun the wheels as he sped forward. He reached over and managed to get a seat belt around the girl. He circled the car 180 degrees and floored the gas pedal. Three police cars had already made the turn toward the public pool. King didn’t try to go around them; he simply kept the pedal down and steered right for them. He would use the only information he was sure they had about him to their weakness. He had the girl, so the police would be forced to proceed with caution.

  King wouldn’t.

  In a high-speed game of chicken, King steered right for the police car in front. The police had no choice but to part ways in front of him. King’s rented Toyota wasn’t exactly fast, but if he could get some distance between him and the police now, he might be able to disappear long enough to stop for his go bag. The phone, cash, and extra passport with a new identity inside would be crucial in the coming days. The extra Glock 19, spare magazines, and his Chris Reeve Sebenza knife wouldn’t hurt either. He had to treat the situation like he was going to war because from the looks of it, this might be the battle of his life.

  King jerked the steering wheel left and changed roads as he tossed his cell phone out the window. They’d tracked it long enough. Just a couple hundred feet more and he swerved right onto the freeway on-ramp and plowed forward. He checked his rearview, and so far they hadn’t caught up to him. He turned right to take the next exit, hoping to throw the police off his scent. Without a map or his phone for GPS, he was going to have to feel his way back to his go bag. Sam always had a go bag sent to wherever he would be spending even a little bit of time. Whether his stay was for business or pleasure, she’d never failed to do so. This time Sam had the go bag mailed to the FedEx store on Avenida Patriotismo. One reason she chose that street was because she thought the name was very apropos. The second reason was because she knew he wouldn’t forget the name of that road. Though King didn’t find her little “joke” as funny as she had, at least she was right. He hadn’t forgotten. Now he just had to find that road.

 

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