The Warrior

by Sharon Sala

  John stood by, his expression inscrutable. A part of him felt sorry for her, but not enough to stop using her. She wasn’t anything to him other than a means to an end. Then she looked up, and for a fraction of a second the water droplets on her face looked like tears.

  He flinched, then gritted his teeth.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just…I saw you…screaming…shouting, and I didn’t understand. I thought…” She shrugged. “I don’t know what I thought. You just scared me. That’s all.”

  John exhaled slowly. That he could understand. He squatted in front of her, watching the play of light against the water droplets on her face, seeing the color of the ocean echoed in the stark expression in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet once again. “It’s complicated.”

  Alicia rocked back on her heels, braced her hands on her knees and stared at his face, unable to read his expression. She was in one hell of a fix. She had to trust someone, and right now, he was all she had.

  “I’m sorry, too,” she said. “I just…I panicked, that’s all.”

  He nodded. “After all you’ve endured, I can understand that. But we need to focus on the business at hand. That phone call…the one you saw me take…”

  “Yes?”

  “It was your father. He knows Dieter is in custody. He doesn’t know who I am, but he knows you’re with me.”

  Alicia shivered, both from the chill setting in and from what he was saying. She couldn’t rationalize the way he’d reacted after talking to a virtual stranger.

  “He knows. How?” she asked.

  This was where it got tricky. Did he tell her the truth or…? The words came out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

  “He knows because I told him.”

  Alicia shivered again. This time from fear.

  “Why? Why would you do that?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure. It was an impulse. It’s done.”

  Alicia began to get up. John reached down to help her, but she pushed his hands away and dragged herself to her feet.

  “Then tell me something,” she said. “And don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you do.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I watched you. You were screaming into the phone. You were shouting and screaming and…then you started talking to him in another language. You don’t react like that to a total stranger. So explain this to me…. Why did you behave like that to a man you’ve never met?”

  John thought about a lie for less than a second, then let it go. He had nothing to lose by telling her a partial truth. She still needed him as much as he needed her.

  “Your father might want you dead…but not nearly as much as I want to kill him. He butchered my family…everyone I ever knew. I’ve been looking for him forever, and when I find him, I’m going to make him sorry he was ever born.”

  Alicia knew she was staring, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. This was a nightmare. All of it. First her father—now this. She couldn’t take it all in.

  Her voice softened to the point that John had to strain to hear her, and when he did, he felt the first hint of regret.

  “Were you following me, too? Are you using me to get to him?”

  “I didn’t even know you existed, but I won’t deny meeting you was a godsend. Ultimately, meeting you will lead me to him.”

  Alicia’s mouth went slack. She heard what he was saying but kept telling herself she’d misunderstood. With every word she spoke, her voice continued to rise, until by the time she was done, she was screaming.

  “You’re trying to make me believe that you’ve been looking for my father for years…that I just happened to show up in the place where you live—by accident—and that I’m now the key you need for revenge?” She thought back to that moment at the station where he’d stepped in to “save her” from Dieter. “You didn’t really care what Dieter was going to do to me, did you? If I’d been the daughter of someone else, you would have left me dangling, wouldn’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t have let him hurt anyone,” he said.

  “You lie.” Alicia doubled up her fist and slugged him in the chest. “To hell with you and your agenda. I don’t believe a word you’ve been saying. You said you’d help me, but you’re just helping yourself. You don’t care what happens to me. I’m only a means to an end. You don’t even care that tens of thousands of American soldiers have been put at risk, are being betrayed every day they stand on foreign soil, by one of their own. I trusted you.” She shuddered, then combed her fingers through her hair, shoving it away from her face. “Damn you, John Nightwalker. Damn you and my father and all men straight to hell.”

  John’s belly knotted. For the first time in centuries, he felt guilt. Even more, he felt shame. He watched her striding back up the beach toward the steps, then lifted his chin and followed. What was done was done. Now they had to find a way to work together or one of them would die, and he knew damn well it wouldn’t be him. But there were things to put in place, like damage control. He needed to get her to safety so she could tell her story before anything else happened.

  He pulled out his cell phone and punched in some numbers. When the call was answered, he began issuing orders with little more than a brief hello to preface them. By the time he got to the house, the next leg of their journey was in place. They couldn’t stay here any longer. It had been a year since he’d been to his home in Arizona, but it was out in the middle of nowhere, with no neighbors. He’d already called the caretaker, and sent him out to turn on the utilities and stock the place with food. As soon as he took her to D.C. and she finished telling her story, they were going to Sedona.

  By the time he got back to his house, the front door was standing ajar. He sighed. He could only guess at how pissed Alicia must be. This whole stupid mess was his fault. He’d thought of nothing but his own agenda, and she was right. As badly as he wanted revenge, first Richard Ponte needed to be outed as a traitor and the flow of illegal weapons into Iraq stopped.

  “Alicia!” he called.

  She didn’t appear. She didn’t even answer.

  “Shit,” he muttered, and headed for her bedroom. He found her there with an armful of her clothing and her suitcase open on the bed.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Don’t treat me like a fool, and don’t act like one,” she snapped. “You can see what I’m doing. Where are we going?”

  John stood for a moment, taking in her defiance, and he had to admit, she wore it well.

  “I have a place in Arizona. After we do what we have to in D.C., we’re going to Sedona.”

  “How do we get there?”

  “Chopper.”

  “Are you the pilot?”

  He nodded.

  “Then pack your jammies, Tonto, because if I know my daddy…he’ll be all over this place before dark.”

  John flinched but forced himself to ignore the ethnic slur. He’d had it coming. He left without comment and headed for his room. Within the hour, he’d emptied his safe, packed his suitcase and was outside tying it on the back of a big black Harley he’d wheeled out of the garage.

  Alicia walked outside, then paused on the doorstep. “Want me to lock the door?”

  “I’ve got a remote,” he said. “It will arm the alarm and lock everything down. Hop on,” he said, and handed her a helmet. “Although I have a helipad here, I keep the chopper at a hangar on the other side of Justice. With the Jeep out of commission, this is the only ride. Have you ever been on a motorcycle?”

  “Considering the fact that I’ve never made my own breakfast before this morning, what do you think the odds are that I went through a biker-babe phase?”

  He arched an eyebrow but refused to spar with her. “I’ll take that as a no,” he said, and handed her a helmet.

  She put it on, then straddled the bike, wishing she had jeans instead of dress slacks as he tied her suitcase on behind his. But it was too
late to worry about fashion as John swung his leg over in front of her and sat down on the bike.

  “Wrap your arms around me and hold on,” he said.

  She nodded, although he didn’t see her acquiesce. He’d already fired up the engine.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist just as he put the bike in gear. It fishtailed once in the loose gravel as they took off down the driveway, but he quickly got it under control.

  Alicia’s heart was thumping wildly. She wanted off, but she wanted away from her father’s reach worse, and thanks to Dieter, this seemed to be their only out.

  As they drove through the open gates, John realized he hadn’t gone back to repair the lock Dieter had sabotaged. Now there was no time to fix it himself. He would call Smith Electric when they got to the hangar. The few things from his past that he’d managed to hold on to were too precious to him to lose them to some burglar.

  When they hit the highway, he accelerated, taking a measure of satisfaction in the way Alicia Ponte’s arms tightened around his stomach. But he had to give her credit. She was meeting this latest twist without complaint. Despite her complete disillusionment with him, she seemed equal to what lay ahead.

  “You okay?” he yelled.

  “I’m not talking to you!” she yelled back, then closed her eyes and rested her helmet against the middle of his back so she didn’t have to watch the trees blurring into a solid line on either side of the road.

  He grinned and took the curve low and fast, just for the satisfaction of feeling her flinch.

  All too soon, they were back in Justice. He decided to stop at Smith Electric instead of calling, giving the repairman instructions while Alicia kept her head down and her face concealed behind the visor of the helmet. After that, they were off to the hangar.

  Alicia stood nearby, watching as the shiny black chopper was moved outside. It looked to her like a big dragonfly. While she’d been all over the world in all sorts of planes, she’d never flown in anything like this. The very size of it was intimidating. There wasn’t nearly enough bulk between her and the heavens for her peace of mind, but a quick getaway was paramount.

  She had to find someone who would listen to her, who would start an investigation into her father’s business dealings overseas. Fate had dumped her in this man’s lap. So be it. But she’d already made up her mind that she would puke up her guts and hope they landed on his shoes before asking him for another damned thing, including meds for motion sickness or blinders so she wouldn’t have to see the sky all around her.

  John was all-business as he went through the preflight checklist while the chopper was being fueled. Being thorough and careful was part of being a pilot. It was like riding a horse. You never wanted to start out on a long journey without knowing your mount was well-rested, and had been watered and fed. The same applied to horsepower, especially when you were several thousand feet up in the air. He sensed Alicia’s eyes on him, but he didn’t give in to the urge to look. He wasn’t in the mood for any more crap, which was what he figured she was still dishing up.

  When he finally waved her over, Alicia was more than ready. She picked up her suitcase and started walking, her bag bumping against her leg with every step. When she reached the chopper, John reached down to take her suitcase, but she pushed past him and swung it up into the cabin on her own, then crawled into the passenger seat and began fumbling with the buckle, leaving him under no misapprehension as to how truly pissed she was.

  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he tossed his bag in beside hers, then crawled up into the cabin and buckled himself in, as well.

  “Do you get airsick?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Pity,” he drawled. Seconds later, they were airborne.

  It wasn’t until Justice was nothing but a spot far below that Alicia began to relax. Dealing with John Nightwalker and his two-faced lies was less of a problem for her than the fact that, for the time being, she was out of her father’s reach.

  About fifteen minutes into the flight, she looked over at John.

  He felt her gaze and turned.

  “What?” he asked.

  She hated herself for admiring even one hair on his head, but he was stunning. His profile was pure in every sense of the word: high cheekbones, strong chin, proud nose with a hint of a hook that went with his ethnicity. And that damn little feather dangling from one ear. When he looked at her, his brown eyes darkened to the point of appearing black. She felt his impatience with her, but damn it, he’d started this ride and she wasn’t about to let go. Right now, she needed him as much as he seemed to need her. So they would use each other, and if hate was the result, she didn’t care. Not if he kept her alive.

  John wasn’t used to being scrutinized to such a degree, or being around a woman who was at ease with being silent.

  “If there’s something you need to say, spit it out.”

  There was a hint of the imp in her voice. “Are we there yet?”

  The familiar question all traveling children were prone to ask surprised him. He laughed before he thought, then shook his head and turned away. He was using her for bait, and now that she knew it and hadn’t offered to slit his throat, he didn’t want to like her.

  Satisfied that she’d gotten under his skin, if only for a moment, she settled back into the seat and began concentrating on how she was going to be able to convince Corbin Woodliff that her father was a traitor. If only she had proof, something more than just an overheard conversation. Then she sighed. It wasn’t up to her to play detective. That was for someone else to do. It was her responsibility to reveal what she’d heard so she would not be guilty by omission.

  The trip felt as if it would never end. The farther they flew, the worse she felt. Every now and then, she knew John was looking at her, but she refused to look back, and the silence between them continued until the crack and static of radio traffic startled them both and John returned to the business of piloting.

  They set down once to refuel and get some food. John ate without care or consideration for the tumult her stomach was in, even though she was sure he suspected it when she refused the sandwich he brought her. The scent of the barbecue he was downing was up her nose and in her clothes. She wanted to slap him. When he offered her the extra sandwich again, she snapped. She took it out of his hand, took a great big bite out of the middle, chewed and chewed until she thought she was going to spew, then finally swallowed it.

  “Yum,” she said, and handed it back, reached for her cold soda and added insult to injury to her already rolling stomach by downing a big drink.

  Then she slumped down in the seat, closed her eyes and promised God that she would give her first child to the priesthood if He would keep her from throwing up. The fact that she wasn’t Catholic didn’t work into the prayerful equation. She just didn’t want to see another smirk on John Nightwalker’s face and hoped, if and when the time ever came, that her firstborn would understand. She would rather fail in God’s eyes than have John Nightwalker see her weaknesses.

  To her undying relief, she finally fell asleep once they were back in the air. She didn’t know how long she’d been out when she suddenly felt a shift in motion, which woke her instantly.

  She straightened up in the seat, then looked down. The view below was a giant grid of streets and houses, outlined in green from thousands of trees. A long, winding river was a muddy blue ribbon slipping through it all. When she recognized the giant obelisk that was the Washington Monument, she knew they’d arrived.

  John’s focus was on landing, as he communicated with the tower at Dulles International. He knew she was awake and was once again surprised when she didn’t begin talking or plying him with questions. Besides the fact that she was furious with him, he’d figured out that she tended to keep her own counsel and didn’t feel the need to talk when there was a lull in conversation. The irony of it was, she was more like him than he wanted to admit.

  When they were finally cleared for la
nding, John competently set the chopper down. Once they were on the ground, he took off his headphones, then turned toward Alicia.

  She looked back, waiting for him to make the next move.

  “We’re taking a cab from here to the hotel,” he said.

  “When do I get to talk to Woodliff?”

  “Tomorrow morning. I told him we needed privacy. He offered his home.”

  Alicia took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “The sooner I get this off my chest, the better. I just hope he believes me.”

  John could tell she was nervous. With that kind of information, who wouldn’t be? And even if she wasn’t close to her father, as she’d claimed, having to give him up still had to be tough.

  “He’s a journalist. He’ll have his own contacts to verify information. What will happen is that the report alone will ignite its own investigation. If there is someone in power in D.C. who might have been inclined to bury the info, the fact that the public knows will keep that from happening.”

  She nodded, then unbuckled her seat belt and reached behind the seat for her suitcase.

  “Let me,” John said.

  Instead of arguing, she shrugged and got out, leaving him to get the luggage, then followed him inside and through the airport itself until they got to a place where they could hail a cab. Alicia immediately felt better with her feet back on solid ground. By the time they reached the hotel, she was almost giddy with relief. When they went to sign in, John pulled her aside.

  “I already made a reservation for us while you were asleep. It’s under my company name and will be more difficult to trace if your father is so inclined.”

  “Thank you,” Alicia said. “I have money. I can pay my own way.”

  “We’ll deal with that later,” he said. “Let’s just get up to the suite first.”

  “You reserved a suite? As in…more than one bedroom, right?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Unless you’re ready to move our loving relationship to the next level.”

  “You are such an egotistical ass,” Alicia mumbled.