Alexander King Thriller Series: Books 1-3

by Bradley Wright

  “A real voice of positivity, are you?”

  “Just being real, Sam. It’s bad. And he has no one to help him.”

  Sam stopped in front of a long row of ticketing counters.

  “He will soon. I’m at Dulles in DC. Get me the next flight out to Mexico City under my Beverly Tanner passport and credit card. I have both with me. You still have the info, right?”

  “I do. Looking now. How’d you manage to keep Director Lucas from finding your fake passport and credit card?”

  “Hid them in my knickers. The moment I knew they were going to keep me from helping Xander, I put them there for safekeeping.”

  “Good thinking. Okay, go to the United Airlines counter. I just booked you on the 6:35 nonstop to Mexico City. Remember, use your Beverly ID.”

  “Quick work. Give me Xander’s burner number. I’ll call him while I race to my plane.”

  “Will do.”

  “Talk to you—”

  “One other thing,” Dbie interrupted. “Kyle has called me no less than forty times since the video ran this morning. I can’t keep avoiding him.”

  “I know. It’s time he knew the truth. I’ll call him in a moment.”

  Dbie sighed. “Thank God. I was getting boob sweat just thinking about having that convo with him.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sam ended the call and walked up to the United ticket counter. There were no hitches in using her fake identification. She breezed through security and began the walk to her gate. She was good on time and noticed she was feeling a bit hungry. However, each fast food restaurant she passed, she grew more disgusted with her available choices. She would just have wine on the plane for dinner. She needed that drink right then, because she was about to make one man very happy and very angry at the same time.

  Dbie’s text with Xander’s burner number came in, but she closed that out and dialed Kyle’s number instead.

  “Hello?”

  It had been a couple of weeks since she’d spoken with Kyle. It was probably the longest she’d gone since she’d met him several years ago. There was an eagerness in his tone, she could sense it immediately. She knew most all of his little quirks. Partly because she had spent so much time around him and Xander throughout the years of vigilante missions. That and Kyle and Xander were almost literally joined at the hip. The other reason she knew him so well was of course because they had been intimate for a time. Something she didn’t regret, but it was clearly a mistake for two close friends, as they had become.

  Part of her loved Kyle, and part of him drove her mad. All of that didn’t matter now. This was the second most difficult thing she would ever have to tell him. The first being the day she’d told him Alexander King was dead. Now she had to explain why the person closest to Xander wasn’t chosen to know he had always been alive.

  “It’s me,” she said.

  “Oh, thank God. I’ve been calling you all day! I’m assuming by the burner number that shit’s gone wrong for you since this bullshit of trying to defame a dead man is running all over the news. Why would they do this to Xander? Why can’t they just let him rest in peace?”

  Sam took a breath.

  “Sam?”

  “Xander is alive.”

  Band-Aid approach.

  “Sam, I know you’ve never had the best sense of humor, but even you have to know that isn’t funny.”

  “Kyle, it’s not a joke. I’m sorry you weren’t privy to know, but he’s alive. He had to fake his death to keep us alive two years ago, and he’s been running covert missions ever since. Including taking down Saajid and Husaam Hammoud.”

  Kyle didn’t say anything. Sam could hear him breathing heavy into the phone with some crowd noise behind him. He mentioned how much the man in the videos that surfaced from Greece last year had looked like Xander, but he’d never actually suspected what he thought was impossible.

  “He did it to keep you safe, Kyle. You should be happy. Xander is—”

  “Just be quiet, Sam. Not another word.”

  Sam was approaching her gate. She made it with fifteen minutes to spare. She was going to let Kyle have all the time he needed. She was just happy he didn’t hang up.

  “Where are you?” Kyle said.

  “DC. Where are you?”

  “I just landed here, too, at Dulles airport. I left Toronto as soon as I saw the video and couldn’t get ahold of you. I wanted to help take down whoever was smearing X’s good name, but turns out I don’t even know Xander myself. So what’s the point?”

  “Kyle, I know you are confused right now, and don’t know which way is up, but I need you to get to gate A12 immediately. Like, run.”

  “No, I’m going back to Toronto and finish my assignment there. To hell with you guys.”

  Sam scanned her ticket and walked down the jetway. “I know you don’t mean that. I’m sorry we tried to protect you, but—”

  “Don’t!” Kyle shouted. “I am not the man you met when Xander first brought you to the States. I am an agent, too, and a damn good one. I don’t need your protection, and I didn’t need it two years ago either. What I needed was my best friend not to be dead!”

  Sam stepped onto the plane and held her hand over the phone so Kyle couldn’t hear her. Then she approached the flight attendant. “Hello. I know you’ve got to close the door soon, but can you please delay it as long as possible? My brother, whom I haven’t seen in years, is trying to make the flight, and I would be so grateful if you could help.”

  The blonde-haired, blue-eyed attendant smiled and put her hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Aw, that’s so sweet. I have a brother too.” Then she winked. “I’m not sure I can help, but I’ll do everything I can.”

  “Thank you,” Sam said. Then she uncovered the phone. “Please, Kyle, let’s have this talk face-to-face. Right now. Xander is the most wanted man in the world at the moment, and he’s being pinned down by a cartel leader and hunted by the CIA. I know we’ve hurt you, but he needs us. You know he’d be there for you.”

  “Would he? Or would he be dead?”

  “I’m begging you. Gate A12 to Mexico City. They’re about to close the doors.”

  The line went dead. She knew the call was going to be bad, but that had actually gone worse than she’d expected. She took her seat in the second row of first class. A different flight attendant walked by, and she got his attention.

  “Yes, ma’am, how can I help you?”

  “Red wine. Doesn’t matter the vintage or type.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Sam took out her phone, opened the text from Dbie, and pressed the number to call Xander’s burner phone. He wouldn’t be happy that he wasn’t the one who got to tell Kyle himself, but he would be glad Sam was coming to help him. One out of two wasn’t bad.

  Chapter Twenty

  King, Lawson, and José took inventory of their weapons. All in all they had a decent amount of armory. But it wouldn’t be enough if they didn’t catch Ortega by surprise. One of Ortega’s men had just called José to check in. José explained that he had just missed King at the spot where the girl was killed. They told José that someone had taken the girl to the hospital and the US Embassy found her body. They needed him to search the east side of the city before meeting them at the St. Regis hotel downtown.

  While José and Lawson made sure everything was locked and loaded, and José began plotting their course, King slipped away to the restroom. He needed to get his mind right. He shut the door behind him, and when he passed the mirror, it was the first time he noticed the damage done by Lawson’s fists. His first thought was that he’d had worse, but really, he wasn’t sure he had.

  “How do you always get yourself into these messes?” he asked himself.

  He thought about how the day started, with him being upset with himself that he’d let Ortega walk the girl into his place and did nothing about it. And after all the crazy in-between that had happened, the girl was shot an
d killed anyway. For what? That was the question King couldn’t answer. None of it made sense to him except if it were some sort of personal vendetta. Otherwise, why take the time to frame King for taking the girl, and for the drugs at his home in Kentucky, if no one knew Ortega had even taken the girl?

  There was clearly something deeper going on, but that brought him to why he needed to get away to think. Ortega must have had a hand in setting King up. But was he the only one? King had to think past Ortega. He had to understand for himself if it was even worth it to go after the guy right now. He understood Lawson’s motivation. Revenge. Lawson was obviously the type of man who not only didn’t back down from fights but ran toward them. King recognized himself in that trait. But that wasn’t always the best course of action. Running in undermanned usually only served to put someone in more danger than necessary. If King could prove Ortega killed Brittany, the US would send an army after him. Not just a three-man team who hadn’t ever worked together before.

  However, what if King couldn’t prove Ortega killed Brittany and planted the drugs? Then what? Ortega goes on being the criminal scumbag that he is, and King is still left flapping in the wind with no place to call home. On the run from the government he’d spent his entire adult life protecting.

  King turned on the faucet, cupped his hands to fill them with water, and splashed his face. Going to war with someone as well armored as Raúl Ortega was no small thing. And as with every time he found himself in this sort of situation, all he wanted to do was talk to Sam.

  King’s burner phone began to ring. He dried his hands and hoped Dbie didn’t have another awful thing to tell him as he pulled out his phone.

  “I can’t take any more bad news, Dbie. So just hang up if that’s what you’ve got.”

  “Well,” a familiar British accent tickled his ear, “don’t you sound like Sally Sadsack.”

  “Sam!”

  “You didn’t think I was going to let you have all the fun, now did you?”

  “Can you believe this mess?” King stepped to the right and sat on the closed toilet.

  “I mean, it is you, Xander. So I’m hard-pressed to be surprised. But whomever you’ve pissed off this time, they are certainly out for your head.”

  “Unreal, right?”

  “Where are you? Are you all right?”

  “Remember José Ramirez?” King said. “The undercover agent from Sinaloa?”

  “That wasn’t the big man pulling the girl into the car in the video, was it?”

  “No, but he’s with me too. PI hired by Senator McKinley. Long story. Anyway, I’m at José’s secret apartment in Mexico City. He’s been undercover in Ortega’s camp for almost two years.”

  “Not any longer, I suppose.”

  “He knows where Ortega is. We’re going to hit him while he thinks I’m on the run.”

  Sam was quiet. King let her take everything in.

  “Don’t do that yet. I’m on an airplane now. I’ll be to you by ten o’clock.”

  “I knew you’d find a way. You didn’t have to kill Director Lucas, did you?” He was sarcastic.

  “No,” Sam said. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.”

  “Be careful coming in. There are eyes everywhere. I can now account for most of it being Ortega’s men, except for one sniper.”

  “Sniper? The one who shot Brittany McKinley?”

  “Yeah, what do you make of it?”

  Sam paused. “Certainly not cartel, but that doesn’t mean it’s one of ours.”

  “All the enemies we’ve made across the world, could be from anywhere,” King said.

  “My point exactly.”

  King’s mind narrowed on one individual in particular who he knew would one day come for him. “You don’t think it could be Bentley Martin, do you?”

  Bentley was the girl he’d saved from a car bomb back in London. After trying to keep her safe, she murdered Agent John Karn in cold blood and turned out to be a supremely trained terrorist. Her final vow was revenge against King for killing her terrorist-funding father, Andonios Maragos.

  “Could be,” Sam said. “But not likely. As much as I hate to say it, and even though I just told you it didn’t mean the sniper was one of ours, it sure looks like someone with a lot of American connections is trying to bring you down.”

  “Great, so we still have no idea.”

  “No. So keep your head down and wait till I arrive. At least we’ll be two more numbers with guns.”

  “Two more?” King said.

  Sam let out a sigh.

  “What is it, Sam? What happened?”

  “I told Kyle you are alive.”

  “What?!” King stood and paced the tiny bathroom in circles. “You know I wanted to be the one to explain things to him!”

  “What did you want me to do, Xander? He saw the video. He’d been calling Dbie and myself all day. He left his post in Toronto even though he thought you were still dead. Just to go and kill the people who he thought were tarnishing his closest friend’s name.”

  King was angry, but not at Sam. He was mad at himself. He knew he should have approached Kyle long ago, but he didn’t. He was afraid to open his relationship back up to Kyle because he knew he would never see him. King was supposed to be dead, and Kyle had his own assignments. But now he knew it had been a mistake to wait.

  “He’s pissed, isn’t he?” King said. His voice was calm.

  “He is. With you, me, and apparently the world.”

  “Damn, I should have—”

  “Xander, I have to go,” Sam interrupted. “He just got on the plane. We’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

  King’s emotions were swirling. A lot was going on at the same time. But one thing a good operator does about as well as anything is compartmentalize. He started the day compartmentalizing his feelings about Cali leaving—burying them until he knew he could see her again. Now he had to avoid thinking about being reunited with a friend he’d kept a terrible secret from. A painful secret, for his friend. But that had to get buried, too, because he was about to have people’s lives in his hands, and you can’t be of a split mind when bullets are flying.

  Either way, he was glad Sam and Kyle were on their way. They made the chances for success jump dramatically in the good guys’ favor. And he couldn’t wait to give his old friend a big bear hug. That is, if he would accept it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sam ended the call and stood to greet Kyle. He had just entered the plane, and the stewardess stopped him to ask a question. His short, dark hair was a bit of a mess. His square jaw seemed even more jagged than the last time she’d seen him. He had always been in great shape, but his 6’3” frame now seemed even more lean.

  When Kyle caught her eye, his usual elated smile when he saw her was instead a disappointed dip of the head. Sam lowered her outstretched arms and took her seat.

  “I’d say nice to see you,” Sam said, “but it’s clear that sentiment won’t be returned.”

  Kyle placed his messenger bag beneath the seat in front of him, sat back, and let out a deep sigh. He smiled at the stewardess who was bringing him an airplane bottle of bourbon.

  “Thank you,” Kyle told her. “Don’t run off too far, okay?”

  The blue-eyed brunette batted her eyebrows and flashed a million-dollar smile. Then she craned her neck all around the plane. “Not too many places to hide. I’m sure you’ll find me.”

  Kyle winked.

  The stewardess giggled.

  “I see you haven’t changed a bit,” Sam said, unable to bite her tongue.

  “Don’t.” Kyle sipped his bourbon. “We’re not friends right now.”

  “That’s mature. All right then, what are we?”

  “Colleagues.” His tone was flat. His eyes were watching the United logo animate on the headrest television.

  “I understand you’re upset, Kyle. You have every right to be. But—”

  “No buts necessary,” Kyle said, turning toward he
r. “You can just leave it at I ‘have every right to be.’ Then just leave me alone.”

  “Fine. Just want you to know I spoke with X right before you boarded. He’s safe . . . for now.”

  Kyle faced forward again; he didn’t comment. It was ten minutes past the designated time to shut the cabin door. Sam thought it was the stewardess helping her out by stalling, but it should have been shut immediately after Kyle boarded. Sam hoped there wasn’t any mechanical issues. The last thing she needed was for the plane to be delayed. One reason was she knew the CIA would be watching; the other was Xander couldn’t afford her and Kyle arriving late.

  As two men in black suits stepped onto the plane, she knew instantly it was the first of her concerns that was going to keep her and Kyle from getting to Xander on time.

  “Damn it,” Sam said.

  Kyle’s head swiveled toward her; then he followed her eyes to the front of the plane.

  “Did you tell anyone you were coming here?” Sam said. “To DC?”

  “No. I’m assuming those two are here for us?”

  “How did they find me so quickly?”

  “So that’s a yes?” Kyle said.

  Then the two men stepped forward to the second row. The first man with a military-style buzz cut looked straight at Sam as he held out an FBI credential.

  “Samantha Harrison?”

  “Sorry, you’re mistaken. I’m Beverly Tanner. Guess I just have one of those faces.”

  “Ms. Harrison, you’re coming with us.”

  The man reached forward, but Kyle slapped away his arm. “The lady said her name was Tanner. Move on, fellas.”

  The man pulled back his sport coat to reveal a pistol tucked inside his shoulder holster. “Okay then, smart guy, both of you are coming with us.”

  Kyle started to rise to his feet in protest, but Sam placed her hand on his arm. Her processor worked fast. She knew Kyle was going to show his CIA credentials to let the men know they had no authority over him, but she also knew it wouldn’t matter. Not because they were FBI, but because the pistol in the man’s holster was a Beretta. The FBI had been issuing Glocks as their standard pistol since 2016. There was a chance it could be the man’s personal sidearm that he carries as a backup, but that nuance coupled with the way his partner’s eyes kept jumping all around the plane in a nervous twitch, Sam could feel something was off.