Miriam stood in front of him, the lighter shining on her face. He wondered why he ever thought she was trying to help. Maybe it was the way the light flickered, but she’d gotten ugly real fast. The old bat looked annoyed, her top lip curled back, her crooked teeth exposed.
“We gotta keep moving. This ain’t the right place,” she complained.
“It is for me.” He positioned his bad leg forward to take the weight off. It pulsed like some animal lay beneath the skin, writhing for relief. “You wouldn’t happen to have any more water, would you?”
She looked around, her lighter casting only the faintest shadows into what appeared to be a cavernous tunnel. “Why? You still thirsty?”
He didn’t know how to answer. Thirsty was nowhere close to how he felt. Dying, maybe.
“Stay here,” she announced, taking the skimpy light with her.
He leaned his head backward onto his pack and closed his eyes. Like he had an option? Staying here was not the problem. His strength was gone and every muscle pounded in painful symphony with the growing fire in his leg. Worse, there was no way his squad could find him in this dismal cave. Harley sank against his bag, determined to keep it safe behind him. The rifle went alongside his thigh again, still in reach and handy.
He tapped his fingers on the handle of his SIG. Cocking his head to the side he strained to hear what lay in the dark. “Who’s out there? Show yourself.”
When they remained quiet, he decided first things first. As long as he knew where his rifle was, he was solid. Harley made himself as comfortable as possible, his wounded leg calm now that he was off of it. But he recognized his dilemma. What lost man would not? He didn’t know where he was. How could his men find him?
“Miriam,” he called softly into the shadows, wishing he had a lighter too. Anything. The fear pounding in his chest would not let him relax. Neither would his ears. Something was out there in the dark, slithering closer without footsteps or shuffles. He cocked his head to hear. Fingering the pistol out of his thigh holster, he raised it alongside his cheek. Another noise caught his attention. This was definitely shuffling. No—sniffing.
Something big and furry crashed into him, whining and wiggling as it stepped all over his injured leg with sharp stiletto toes.
“Ouch! Damn it Whisper. Off,” came out of Harley’s mouth, and he hadn’t a clue why.
The beast that stepped all over him sat solidly on his lap, pushing its full weight into him like it needed to hold him in place. Harley hugged the animal because it seemed to be hugging him. Another face lapped a washcloth-sized tongue over his cheek, and he had no idea why he was suddenly enveloped by a strange and wonderful animal with two heads.
A faint light glowed from across the way. Miriam was headed back. The beast on his lap reverberated with a deep throaty growl.
She called to him. “Whatcha got there? A dog?”
The animal braced its big feet over Harley’s legs. The two heads evolved into two distinct dogs when her light drew closer. One dog was pitch black, the other silver with a black saddle. Both faced her with fangs bared and hackles raised.
“They just kinda showed up,” Harley explained, his energy for the day about gone.
The closer she got, the more the black dog growled. He crouched low, his neck extended forward and the claws of his hind feet digging into Harley’s thigh. He ruffled a tired hand through the creature’s fluffy mane to calm him. There was something awfully familiar about the fellow.
“It’s okay, boy. She’s my friend.”
As usual, a fluttering picture show flickered through Harley’s worn out brain. He tried to keep up with the images, but they went so fast. A stern, stiff man with the prettiest dark-haired woman at his side beckoned, only to be replaced by smoking debris of bombed-out villages and houses. Children ran for cover while others shot at him. Fiery death fell from the sky. AKs pop, pop, popped! The sky rained thunder and hellfire while the desert wind scoured the life out of everything and blew sand in his eyes and nose. Oily black smoke filled his lungs.
When Harley choked, the black dog pushed its butt into his chest, growling fiercely. Protectively. Clinging to the beast’s mane brought a sense of peace. A dog like this meant safety. Harley might not be with his men, but he wasn’t alone either. He was going to make it.
Miriam stopped short. “I brought you some more water, but you gotta make that thing go away so’s I can give it to you.”
The beast braced for attack, but Harley stilled its anger with one word. “Down.” Again, he seemed to know how to talk to dogs all of a sudden. What the hell?
When the dog settled firmly on Harley’s lap, Miriam approached. The only thing that made sense was it might be a military working dog sent to locate him. Vague images of other dogs jostled through his mind for attention: Jock, Belgian Malinois and best buddy to Corporal Hernandez; Diesel, German Shepherd and another best buddy of another friend whose name Harley could not recall at the moment. A black lab named....
He squeezed his eyes to make his stupid brain work better. Why couldn’t he remember that black dog’s name? He’d worked with these kinds of animals before. They tracked. They served. They found. Maybe they’d been sent to find him? Maybe Rick and Kent had sent them? He needed to remember.
Another word surfaced out of the spidery darkness in his head. “Rescue,” he muttered.
Both dogs bolted as if they knew what he was talking about. Before they could get too far away, he added, “Bring help,” to the wish.
“Wow,” he breathed as their running bodies melted into the dark. “Look at ’em go.”
“Good boy.” Miriam knelt, the lighter in her hand uncomfortably bright.
“They were good boys, weren’t they?” He lifted his arm to shield his eyes from that piercing glare. There was hope for Miriam after all if she liked dogs.
“Oh no,” she crooned, her arm tight around his shoulder as she plunged the thinnest sliver of a blade into the center of his chest. “I meant you.”
Fourteen
Judy could not have been more surprised. Energy filled the air when the elevator doors opened, not at all what she’d expected for a Saturday night at The TEAM’s headquarters. These people should have gone home hours ago. Instead, they looked busy. Murphy and a tall, dark-haired agent were angling a sheet of plywood through Alex’s office door. Senior Agent David Tao sat at his desk, his phone to his ear. His eyebrows lifted in surprised recognition when he saw Judy.
Mother had a phone in each ear, chatting about satellite scans into one and what sounded like computer programmer language into the other. Roy Hudson signaled to her from across the work bay as he ducked into the Situation Room.
“Come get something to eat.” Ember waved Judy over to her desk in the center of the work area. “What kind of pizza do you like?”
At the other side of her counter, Eric Reynolds leaned away from his big screen monitor. “Hey, Judy. I think Connor’s expecting you in the Sit Room.”
“Connor? Me? Why?”
“Mark called. He thought you were on your way, that you’d need something to keep you busy for awhile.”
“He did, huh?” Leave it to these annoying men Harley worked with. They were all sexist and all thought they knew better than she did. “Thanks, Eric. I’ll go see what Connor wants.”
“Wait.” Ember shoved a plate of pizza in her direction. “I know you might not feel like eating right now, but you’ve got to keep your strength up.”
Judy shook her head. Food was the last thing on her mind.
Ember scowled, the plate with two slices still extended. “Please? It’s important. You’ll go crazy if you don’t eat right. You’ll be like me.”
Judy caught Ember’s drift. She meant her deep dark depression after her boyfriend had been killed during a recent operation. Harley had worried night and day about Ember’s state of mind until Judy was concerned for his. She accepted the plate only to set it down before Ember crashed into her.
“Trust me,” she whispered, her arms around Judy’s neck as she pulled her in for a tight hug. “I know Mark and Zack. They won’t quit until they find him. Just wait. You’ll see.”
Judy could only nod, her heart too full to speak. Poor Ember. She lived alone with her cat. At the moment when her solitary life might have changed for the good, Todd Chandler was ripped away by the senseless act of a gangbanger’s cowardice. And she was such a sweetheart. This kind woman in her leather mini-skirt and thigh-high boots deserved so much more.
Ember let go of her as quickly as she’d grabbed hold and handed the plate to Judy again, her eyes shining. How did she just do that? How did she know exactly the right words to dilute Judy’s impatience with the world? She turned and bumped into Connor’s gentle smile, like that helped.
“There’s root beer and milk in the fridge to go along with that pizza,” he said. “Or I can get you a cup of coffee if you’d like.”
She gulped, her emotions raw. Any minute now, the wall would come crashing down and she’d dissolve into one of those hysterical women who over-reacted instead of using their common sense when times got tough. People needed to stop being kind to her. It was more than she could handle.
“No. I’m fine,” she answered, humbled enough to meet his eyes.
“You sure?” He cocked his head like he’d willingly jump to do her bidding. “Cuz I aim to please.”
“Thank you, Connor.”
“Don’t even think twice. It’s been a long day.” He smiled, and she felt ashamed. Connor was one of those lovable, puppy dog types—blond, blue-eyed and handsome as heck. Honestly. Where did Alex find these guys? If they weren’t Chippendale worthy, they were just plain nice guys.
He cupped her elbow and took her plate out of her hand. “Come with me. I know what would help.” Connor steered her toward the Sit Room, and she was glad to go. The whole TEAM did not need to see her fall apart. With his palm flattened to the door, he pushed it open.
“Hey, Judy.” Roy looked up from the conference table, a smile on his dark handsome face. “I was hoping you’d join us.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “What do you need?”
Connor pulled out a chair and placed the pizza in front of her. “Be right back.”
“Your sharp eyes,” Roy answered. A handful of photos were spread like a deck of playing cards in his fingers. “Would you mind helping me and Connor analyze a few pictures while you’re here?”
Judy nodded, thankful for the diversion. Roy’s idea of a few pictures was really hundreds of photos, some black and white, some color, littered across the table like a scrapbook party gone wild. Connor returned with the sound of clinking glasses. He’d brought three frosty root beers and two more plates of pizza. The brat.
“Here’s the plan.” He set the feast down. “We eat. We drink. Then we get back to work.”
“’Bout time. I’m hungry.” Roy took a heaping plate.
Judy had to give it to Connor. He knew exactly how to get around her. She had no choice but to eat because they were. Before she knew it, her pizza was gone. The root beer was refreshing, and she did feel a little better. But the table was a disorganized mess. Pushing her chair back, she collected the empty paper plates, bottles and napkins and deposited them in the trash. It wouldn’t do to risk a spill. She walked around the table, scanning the wealth of photographic evidence. “What are we looking at?”
“Three crime scenes. You did know Senator Covington was shot today, didn’t you?” Connor asked.
Judy nodded. “Yes. Alex told me. Wouldn’t this task be easier done by computer?”
“Sure, but sometimes folks see things differently when they’re looking at a physical picture instead of a digital one.”
“But digital photos are smarter.”
Connor agreed in his usual non-combative way. “I know, but my eyeballs aren’t. I can look at a digital picture all day long and still miss things. If you’d rather not, that’s okay. At least sit and talk with us.”
Judy jerked her gaze away, not sure why she picked at Connor other than he was not the man her heart yearned for. She selected several photos, willing her mind to focus on this new task instead of Harley.
Each picture showed a different portion of the Mall, but the table lacked organization. She couldn’t work like this. Selecting a few more images, Judy lined them up according to the location of the monuments. The WWII Memorial snapshots went due north, Lincoln Monument to the far left, with Jefferson in a straight line below the WWII. A picture map of sorts evolved, photo by photo. By the time she’d circled the table, Roy and Connor caught on to her methodology and started filling in the map with more snapshots.
“So what’s up with the plywood?” Judy asked, the image in her hand possibly taken south of the red stone Smithsonian Castle. She placed it right of the photos taken from the Washington Monument.
Connor grunted. “In case you haven’t noticed, the boss has a nasty temper. He gets a mite spun up sometimes.”
“His chair don’t fly so good either,” Roy added with a charming smile. “That man threw it clear out the window. He’s lucky there wasn’t a bunch of folks on the sidewalk. Channel 16 would have a field day if he’d hit anyone.”
“He did what?” Judy choked.
“Yeah. Never a dull moment around here,” Connor replied in his best deadpan voice.
“Finding those Polaroids of Kelsey didn’t help—” Roy said.
“Polaroids? Pictures?”
He looked up. “You didn’t know about those? Oh, yeah. The boss found three photos stuffed under his back door this morning. They were intended to make him feel like crap, and they pretty much did. He dusted for fingerprints. It turns out Kelsey’s ex-mother-in-law kidnapped her.”
“And whoosh, his chair went flying,” Connor continued calmly. “Rory’s helping him cover the broken window. I think Murphy’s in there too.”
“He didn’t tell me he’d found any pictures.” Alex had been so uptight. Now Judy knew why. “Why did Kelsey’s ex-mother-in-law kidnap her?”
Roy shot her a disbelieving look. “You don’t know that story either?”
“I guess I don’t.” Obviously she was the only one in the dark about a lot of things. “So fill me in. What’s going on?”
Roy pursed his lips, his dark eyes devoid of light or humor. “Ethel Durrant damned near killed Kelsey and Alex a couple summers ago. Her son, Nick, and his friends did the dirty work, but she was the shrew behind the scenes.”
Judy dropped into the nearest chair in surprise.
“I’m surprised Harley hasn’t told you. He’s the one who rescued them both that night. Sniped Kelsey’s ex and got her to the hospital in time. Alex too.”
“He never mentioned any of this.” Judy shook her head, disconcerted at her lack of information. Harley should have said something. “Wait. Did you say hospital?”
“I did. Alex and Kelsey were in rough shape by the time he found them. It’s a miracle either of ’em survived.”
“And Ethel Durrant?”
Roy set his handful of photos down. “Durrant got away. She’s one of them small-minded people who’s so bitter she can’t tell up from down. She’s a drunk, but she’s manipulative as hell too. It was her who kept nagging at Nick to teach Kelsey a lesson when they were married. Well, the bastard finally did. Drowned his own two baby boys and almost killed her. That’s when Alex found her half-dead at his cabin. Durrant went after them both a year later. By the time Harley got there, Alex was dying and Kelsey about beat to death.”
Judy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “How old were her boys?”
“Two and four,” Connor answered somberly. “She’s such a nice person. You just never know what people have been through.”
“You need to understand what’s going on inside Alex’s head, Miss Judy,” Roy murmured. “He’s hard as steel sometimes, but a damned good man. His problem is he can’t predict the future, so he blames himself when t
hings go wrong. No matter what, it’s always his fault, even when Sara and Abby died a few years back. Hell, I guess it’s been more six or seven years by now. Anyway, Alex wasn’t in the country, but he figured he could’ve saved them if he had been.”
“So he blames himself. Harley does the same thing,” she whispered.
“The boss is an intense guy to begin with,” Roy said, “but once you factor in that all the women in his life have died or nearly died, you’ll get the picture. It chaps his hide something fierce that Todd got killed the way he did. Ember was right there when it happened. I don’t know what hurt Alex worse, losing Todd the way we did or knowing what it did to Ember.”
“So Alex is protective of her,” Judy said softly.
“And you,” Connor added.
“Me?”
Roy nodded. “Hell, yeah. No one knows better than Alex what he’s asking your men to do every time they go undercover. He doesn’t take any mission lightly. If anything goes wrong, he’s usually right smack in the middle of things, busting balls and knocking heads.”
“The thing is,” Connor explained, “us guys coming back from the sandbox don’t necessarily fit into society anymore. Alex found a way to keep some of us gainfully employed. Speaking for myself, if I wasn’t working for him, I’d be stuck in some other high security job that might be more dangerous. He pays us good and, honestly, I don’t know anyone I’d rather work for.”
“Harley loves his job,” Judy agreed. “And he thinks the world of Alex.”
“Hell, we all do.” Roy pointed a stern finger at Judy. “You should be proud of that man of yours. Harley’s got a gift from God. It was a record long shot he took that morning to put Durrant down, but he saved Kelsey’s life. That’s something to be proud of.”
Harley (In the Company of Snipers Book 4) Page 12
