Talon

by Ronie Kendig

  Nertz!” Aspen declared as she slapped down the last card.

  She and Timbrel high-fived.

  Candyman banged a fist on the table. “I liked it better when you two were mad at each other.”

  Timbrel laughed. “We’re best friends. Mad doesn’t last for long.

  Besides, she knows I am just looking out for her.”

  “But,” Aspen inserted, “Timbrel agreed to take it down a notch. Let me handle my own affairs.”

  Candyman and his teammate Rocket hooted.

  Aspen rolled her eyes as she gathered up the cards she and Timbrel had played. “Oh grow up.”

  “Where is that old man anyway?” Candyman took a swig of his Coke.

  “What old man?” Aspen shuffled the deck.

  “Markoski.”

  “He’s not old.”

  Candyman grinned.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  Timbrel took the deck. “Don’t encourage him.”

  Aspen laughed but silently wondered where Dane was. He’d vanished since their near-kiss and the fallout. She had counted every minute. At least, it felt like she had. She wanted to see him again. Liked being with him.

  Shouts carried down the hall outside the rec room.

  “Someone’s ticked,” Rocket said as he worked the cards like a pro.

  Sliding them in a snakelike pattern from hand to hand. Then shuffled them in rapid-fire succession.

  A loud noise thudded through the building.

  “What was that?” Rocket turned, his magic with the cards stopped.

  Crack! A crash rumbled across the floor. Thud! A primal shout roared through the stale, not-so-air-conditioned air.

  Candyman jumped to his feet with Rocket on his tail.

  “I’m not going to miss the action,” Timbrel said as she hopped to her feet.

  Aspen called to Talon and joined the others in the hall.

  Papers, chairs, and desks littered the entrance to a small conference room. Blinds hung askew.

  “What the heck happened?” Candyman asked to whoever was in the room.

  “…on my life, I will hunt you down…no, no! This is wrong. I’ll kill you. So help me God—you knew this would—no!” Crack!

  Aspen peered around Timbrel and saw Dane standing at the window, his hand freeing itself of the gypsum board wall it’d punched through. He faced away from them, a phone dangling from his left hand. He flung aside the device and planted his hands on his hips. He breathed—hard. She shouldered her way into the upturned conference room and stepped over a trail of papers. “Dane?”

  He hung his head.

  “What…?” A certificate caught her eyes. Her heart stuttered as she reached for it, recognizing her own name. “What is this?” She couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t…wasn’t possible. “Dane? Is this…a joke?”

  He spun around, face a ball of rage. Stormed past her. Without answering her, he yelled to the others, “Out! Now!”

  “I’m not leaving her with you, not like this.” Timbrel’s objection didn’t contain half the ferocity Dane’s had.

  “If you value your pretty little head, you’ll leave now.”

  Aspen jerked toward them, met Timbrel’s bulging eyes. She gave a curt nod, trying to reassure her friend things were fine. But the paper in her hand proved things were anything but. Dane herded the others out of the room. Shut the door. Despite the damage to the blinds, he tried to close them, to no avail. He slapped the glass.

  She flinched. Dropped her gaze back to the paper. Numb. That was the only word. “I don’t understand…”

  “Don’t try.” His voice was hard as he righted the table. From the floor, he retrieved the paper trail. Tossed it on the table. “I need you to understand something.”

  She snapped the paper at him. “Start with this.”

  He took it from her. “In a minute.” He looked down, closed his eyes, and roughed his hand—with cracked, bleeding knuckles—over his face as he let out a hard sigh. “When they asked me to do this, I…” His chest heaved. Raw power rolled off him. “This isn’t how I work,” he said with a growl. “I do it alone. I don’t need anyone. I don’t want or care about anyone else.”

  “Next time,” she said, staving off the stinging reproach, “slap me. It’ll hurt less.” She tried to stalk past him, her fear, her panic strangling sane thought.

  Dane hooked her arm. “Please…” His shoulders sagged. “Burnett knows I’m the best chance of finding out if your brother’s alive.”

  She braved his steely gaze. And saw the teeming agony.

  “And you’re the best chance of tracking him because of Talon.”

  “What?”

  “I refused to work this case. Yesterday, I contacted him, said I was off the case. That I refused to go any further.”

  “Why?”

  “So, he forced me. Forced my hand.”

  Why wasn’t he answering her questions? “If you don’t want to help find my brother, then I don’t want your help.”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

  Confusion clotted her patience. “Then what are you trying to say? What’s the point of this?” She tapped the document in his hand.

  “A marriage certificate.”

  Aspen laughed. There was no way it was real. She hadn’t signed anything. Yet even as the thought crossed her mind, she remembered her name. No— “It has my signature.”

  “And mine.” He held it up as if to prove it. “Original seal. Recorded in Virginia.”

  Panic and ice churned through her chest. “Why?”

  “We’re going in undercover. You’re Austin’s sister, seeking closure. I’m your husband, watching out for you.”

  “That’s stupid!”

  He shook his head and walked to the window. “You have no idea.”

  Aspen, fingers trembling, rifled through the other documents. “Birth certificates, passports”—she flipped through the pages, her breathing shallowing out—“Oh my word. They’re stamped.”

  Dane slumped against the far wall. “Apparently, we honeymooned in Greece.”

  “I’ve never been to Greece!” The shriek in her voice scraped down her spine. “How can they do this? Get him on the phone. I’m not standing for this.”

  Dane smirked. Retrieved his phone, dialed, pressed more numbers, then handed her the phone.

  Surprised, she took the device.

  “I knew you’d call back.” A man’s voice boomed.

  “Yes, this is Aspen Courtland—”

  Burnett cursed. “Put that son of a—”

  “General, I want you to stop this game.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s done. Get the mission done and you get your life back.” The line went dead. She stared at the silver phone. “He hung up on me. Told me to do it and I could have my life back.”

  Dane’s shoulders fell. “I hoped he’d be better than that.” He righted a chair and dropped into it. Fingers steepled, he pressed the tips to his forehead and closed his eyes.

  Incredulous, she tossed the papers from the table at his feet. “They’re fake! Anyone will know.”

  Grief tugged at his features as he pushed back in the chair and slumped. “They’re authentic. One-hundred percent real. Legal. Legitimate.”

  “I don’t care. Make them undo it.”

  Dane looked down and leaned forward. He threaded his fingers, a heaviness on his brow as he studied the floor.

  “You can’t possibly be thinking—” She yelped. Spun around. Lunged for the door. “Forget it. I’m leaving.”

  Hands caught her shoulders. Spun her.

  Aspen’s fist flew on its own.

  Crack! Pain plowed through his skull and neck. Instantly, he felt the gush of warmth. Felt his nostrils closing up. He cursed.

  Aspen clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide.

  He stumbled back to the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. It felt like someone was driving nails through his eyes. Clenching his hand into a fist, he squeeze
d his eyes and breathed through his mouth as he waited for the bleeding to stop.

  Hell had to be a better existence than this.

  He’d shouted obscenities through the phone at Burnett that would’ve made his mother blush. The general had not yielded.

  “Just…get the mission done. Use this to cover your trail.”

  “I don’t need this to get my job done. Undo it. now.”

  “No can do.” Burnett snickered.

  “No can do? Or you won’t?”

  “What would I have to gain by tying your sorry carcass to that sweet girl? This isn’t about anything but getting my asset back before someone else gets to him, if they haven’t already.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Surprise stabbed through him. Her words were soft. And close.

  He opened his eyes—already the swelling was puffing around his eyes.

  Aspen stood in front of him, holding what looked like a towel with ice.

  He accepted the peace offering. “That’s an awesome right hook. I should’ve remembered.” Their first meeting—the fight club.

  “My grandfather taught me that when I was five.”

  Cardinal slowed. “Amadore…”

  She shrugged. “My grandfather on my mother’s side.” She squatted. “Please…please tell me this can be undone.”

  “Burnett promised as soon as we get Austin—if he’s alive—everything will go back to normal.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “His words. I can’t predict the future.” And he certainly didn’t trust Burnett as far as he belched.

  “I can’t believe they can get away with this.” She crossed her arms. “Can’t we do anything?”

  “What?” He pointed to the passports. “If you try to go anywhere with your other passport you’ll get arrested. We have two tickets into Djibouti from Virginia—of course, we won’t be coming from there, but flight records will probably show that. Most likely, they’ll take us to Egypt or somewhere and put us on the second leg.” He sighed. “Look. I know this is asinine, but it will work.”

  “But why can’t we just do it from here, the way things are?”

  “Whoever has Austin, if they smell military, we’ll get more of the same from Tuesday.”

  “I thought that was random.”

  Cardinal gave a snort. “You are smarter than that. They knew who we were. We aren’t going to get anywhere with these military grunts breathing down our necks.”

  She drew a chair over and sat in front of him. “I’m really sorry about your nose.”

  “Not my first.”

  “Maybe, but I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “You know what they say about payback.” He’d never forget her horrified expression when she saw the papers. It came pretty close to what he felt as he opened the overnighted box.

  “Dane…” She worried the edge of her lip. “That certificate is in paper only.”

  Did she really think he was a cad? He raised a hand. “Give me a little more respect than that. In case you didn’t notice”—he waved his hand around the room—“I didn’t take the news very well either. I don’t want this. I’m not the marrying kind of guy.”

  Her eyebrows winged up.

  He shook his head and it felt like he was under water. “Look, let’s just get this done and get out of here.”

  “But why real certificates? Why not fake it?”

  “Technically, they’re faked. You didn’t sign it. I didn’t sign it. But there our signatures are.” He’d be mouth breathing for a few days, and the thunder roaring through his head would stop in a few hours…maybe. “But they’re not fake because of who we’re dealing with and how convincing we need to be.”

  “And who is that?”

  “We don’t know for sure, except that it’s pretty high up the ladder.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “Because Burnett sent me.” He let the full meaning settle in as he applied the ice pack to his nose, cringing at the added weight and pain.

  “And who are you, Dane?”

  He met her eyes. “Your husband.”

  Aspen folded her hands and looked down.

  He regarded her. Playing her husband was something he feared. And he didn’t fear that she’d fail at playing his wife—the word curled around some inner piece of him and made it hard to breathe—or that anyone would doubt they had feelings for each other, because that too was true. He could play the role like an ace. And that near kiss—well, he’d memorized the expectation that hung in her beautiful face as she waited for his lips to touch hers.

  No, there’d be no problem pretending. What scared him was how much he’d enjoy it.

  I am becoming him.

  Aspen reached for the express box and lifted it. Something clunked in it.

  Cardinal groaned.

  She dumped the item out. A box. Small black box. She flipped it open. Two rings—one a plain, gold band. Another a stunner of a rock poised over a silver band. He cringed—no, not silver. Platinum.

  Aspen’s eyes widened. “Is this real?”

  He smirked. “Are you proposing?”

  Pink fanned her cheeks.

  “You’re beautiful.” Only when her eyes flicked to his did he realize he’d said that. Whoa. Hold up! “When you’re proposing.”

  She stared at the rings, her eyes tearing.

  “Aspen.” He reached forward and covered the box with his hand. “I wish we could stop this right now. Call Burnett and—”

  “He won’t listen.” She shook her head. “Just like all the times I called them and told them to find Austin, that he wasn’t dead. They ignored me.” She shrugged. “You already tried, that’s why you were shouting and cursing earlier. And he hung up on me, remember? He won’t listen.”

  “If we both swear out of this, if we walk, they can’t do anything.”

  “But they can.” She swallowed—hard. “I can see the fear, the fury in your eyes.”

  He drew back, startled that she’d seen that. Nobody had seen that.

  “I’m right aren’t I?”

  He felt naked. Exposed. This wasn’t good that she could see into him like this. He’d worked too many years protecting himself, erecting barriers.

  “What did they threaten you with, Dane?”

  He ducked even more.

  “I think I deserve to know.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He stood, struggling not to cringe. Again, he stomped around the room. There had to be another way. He couldn’t tether himself to a woman. Relationships didn’t work. Not for him. Not now. Not ever.

  “Look, I’ll just get out of here, vanish.” That might work. “Tell Burnett it’s my fault. He’ll let you off.”

  “Wait.” Aspen joined him. “If we don’t do this, I don’t find Austin. Right?”

  “Is it worth going through this?”

  She frowned then drew straight. “Yes.” She nodded again. “I want the truth about my brother—and now more than ever, it seems like a doozie of a truth.”

  “Even if it means marrying me?” It was meant to be funny. But it wasn’t. He wanted to punch the wall again.

  He didn’t trust himself to speak. It was the foulest betrayal Burnett had pulled on him yet. And he’d strangle the man if he could get within arm’s reach. Burnett knew…somehow, he knew what angle to pull with Cardinal. His one weak spot.

  Not this fake marriage. Not the putting on of rings.

  But his heart.

  Get out! Get out, now!

  Cardinal gulped back what he felt. The fear. The panic. His anger wasn’t about himself—he could walk out of here and never worry about what Burnett or anyone else would do to him. But Aspen…this would destroy her. Not finding out about Austin—

  Somehow, Burnett had figured out what was happening in Cardinal. Even before Cardinal knew—he was falling for Aspen Courtland. And he’d do anything for her. Including staying.

  Aspen lifted the black box, opened it, and plucked the plain
band. She lifted his hand, slid the ring on, and looked up at him. “With this ring, I thee wed.” Her laugh fell flat. “Boy, that felt weird. But that’s all we have to do, right? Put on the rings and off we go.”

  Into the deepest, darkest pit of hell.

  FORBIDDEN

  Nevsky Prospekt, St. Petersburg, Russia

  Age: Nearly 10 Years

  Hunger tore at him as his shoes beat a steady rhythm on the shoveled sidewalks. Icy wind pinched his face and neck, but he swiped a sleeve along his nose and pressed on. Plumes of icy breath danced before him in the March morning as he completed his fifth circuit. Lungs aching, limbs frozen, he savored the warmth of the sun clawing its way over the frozen city and willed it not to hide from him any longer.

  “Nikol.”

  Startled at his name, he looked around.

  Mr. Kaczmarek waved from his shop’s front stoop on the other side of the street. “Hurry, boy.”

  Even though he knew the colonel could not see him from here, Nikol looked over his shoulder and slowed. Buildings protected him, but time did not. “I cannot stop, sir.”

  The Polish baker smiled and stepped farther out, arm extended. Even from here, Nikol could see the warmth rising off the pastry. “You can finish it before you get home, yes?”

  Nikol grinned, crossed the street, and accepted the treat. “Thank you, sir.”

  Yes, he could finish it before he returned to his building. In fact, before he left this street or the possibility existed that the colonel would see him. He took a large chomp out of it. Cinnamon and butter swirled through his palate. Then a cold dread replaced the delicious flavor. Out of sight of Mr. Kaczmarek, he flung the pastry as far over a small home as he could throw it…kept jogging, sweating, panting. He bent and scooped up a fistful of snow. Stuffed it in his mouth. Quickly it liquefied. He swished. Then spit it out.

  The spittle landed on a fresh blanket of undisturbed snow. And there he saw the telltale brown grains. He repeated the process. On his seventh circuit, nearly five miles, he slowed and paced in front of the building, cooling and slowing his breathing. Back inside he turned on the pot for coffee, quickly showered, then dressed. He stuffed an apple in his satchel, made breakfast. From the cabinet, he took down one white plate and a clear glass. He turned toward the table and stilled.