Ky (In the Company of Snipers Book 13)

by Irish Winters

  “Stewart.”

  “Boss? Do you remember that op in Morocco?” Dumb question. Alex had a photographic memory and thought everyone else did, too. Ky activated the speaker to his goggles so Tate and Becker could listen in. “Why was Bick really there? Why did Director Strong want him back on U.S. soil? Did it have anything to do with blood diamonds out of Sierra Leone?”

  Alex stalled. “I’m not sure Zachary wants me to divulge that intel, Ky. Why? What’s happened?”

  “Call him, Boss. Get clearance. I need to know if Eden Stark was in Morocco the same time Bick was.”

  Dead silence.

  Ky blinked. Alex already knew the answer. He just didn’t want to say it.

  “She was, wasn’t she? That’s why Strong wanted Bick out of Morocco. He might have been playing around with some other woman, but that was just his fallback cover story, wasn’t it? Bick was really after Eden, wasn’t he? He orchestrated her being there, didn’t he?” Shit! Ky didn’t need Alex to concur or deny, but he begged to hear the words anyway. “Talk to me, Boss. Tell me I’m wrong. Shit, tell me I’m the dumbest jock on the planet and to get back to work.” Please tell me I’m wrong.

  A growl rumbled deep inside Ky’s ear. “You’re right. The Moroccan president requested a meeting with the elite FBI asset. Zachary needed to find out how that intel had slipped, how the president of Morocco heard about her and from whom. None of us knew she was being used as bait until we got word Bick was there, too.”

  Ky held his breath.

  “You have to understand. Bick’s an oddball. His pet project on the hill has always been paranormal research and psychic abilities. Yes, he’s deep into the diamond trade in Sierra Leone, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg, according to Zachary. He needed Bick stateside because Bick had already kidnapped another psychic. A young man. One Isaiah—”

  “Isaiah Zaroyin,” Ky hissed.

  “Yes. Zaroyin’s son is a level-ten psychic like Eden,” Alex said. “Zachary claims he’s what the experts call a precognitor.”

  “What exactly is a level ten? That’s what that bastard who ran us out of our camp mentioned.”

  Alex grunted. “Yeah, I found it tough to swallow, too. In Zaroyin’s son’s case, he can read people’s thoughts well enough to project their possible futures, or to influence them to change it if he wants a specific event to occur. He can alter the way they think, maybe even their decisions. Like an automobile accident that’s really no accident because they made a wrong turn.”

  “Or cause a physically fit pilot to suddenly die of a heart attack at the stick?”

  “I don’t know if he could cause a heart attack, but in theory, yes, it’s doable. You’re right. The cheating scandal was Bick’s cover. When he knew he’d been made, that Zachary was onto him, the bastard screamed ‘save me’ to the President, and Zachary asked me to intervene. He needed you guys to retrieve Bick while his men went after Zaroyin’s kid. That’s why—”

  “Why’s Bick want Eden?”

  Another stretch of dead air before Alex muttered, “Eden’s number two on Bick’s hit list.”

  “What hit list?”

  Dead silence.

  Shit. Shit. Shit! Ky squeezed his eyes at the danger Eden had been in. “What son-of-a-bitchin’ list, Boss?”

  “It’s a shortlist of mates for Isaiah.”

  “Mates?” Ky damned near shrieked. “My Eden? A mate for that asshole’s son?”

  Both Tate and Becker voiced deep groans. They sounded like two bears at his admission, but Ky didn’t care that his emotions had leapt off his lips like they did. Yes. My Eden, damn it. Get used to it.

  “Possibly,” Alex hedged. “Isaiah’s number one on the list. Zachary thinks it’s Bick’s paranormal wet dream to have an untouchable army.”

  “To do what? Read minds?” It all made sense now. “That’s why the patch on her leg. He’s drugging her, isn’t he? He’s trying to control everyone she’s come in contact with. He’s controlling her body with all those implants, too. Was Hartigen with her in Morocco?” Why that question popped into Ky’s head, he had no idea.

  “Yes. So was Strong.”

  “Where’s Isaiah? Tell me the FBI has him in protective custody.”

  Alex huffed out a deep sigh. “Zachary’s men never found him. To this day, we don’t know where Bick’s keeping him.”

  “Shit, boss. I’ll bet you ten to one he was never in Morocco. Bick just needed Eden out in the open. He orchestrated this whole thing. We’re lucky he didn’t get her, too.” Ky swallowed hard. “Boss, remember what he said?”

  “What the hell are you asking?”

  “It’s in my report, remember? He kept singing that stupid song. ‘Heaven. I’m in heaven.’ He meant Eden, Boss. He’s wanted her for a long time.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch. Where is she?”

  Lying never worked with Alex. Ky looked to the gathering dark clouds in the west and said the only thing he could, “I don’t know. Zaroyin’s men overran our camp. Tate’s with me, but Eden’s with Tucker Chase.”

  “She’s what?” Alex roared. “Goddamn it, I told you to keep her—”

  “And I will!” Ky shot back across the miles. Now was not the time for one of Alex’s famous butt-chewings. “Tate and I are on her trail. We’ll find her.”

  “How many?” Alex barked.

  “Zaroyin’s got at least fifty men on-site. I’ve got Tate and Becker. I don’t know where Bick is yet, but he’s the only one who could’ve sent FBI SWAT all the way to Canada and gotten away with it.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” Alex hissed. “Screw the weather. I’m sending more help. Right damned now.”

  “They can’t get to us fast enough,” Ky argued.

  “No, but they can back up the guys I’ve already sent. Watch your six, Winchester. Harley is on his way and he’s bringing Hell with him.”

  The connection went dead. Ky turned to face his buddy and Agent Becker. They’d heard every word, but he would brook no argument. “I’m not waiting. I’m going to find Eden. Who’s with me?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Eden groaned at the cobwebs in her mind. Nothing made sense. One side of her felt frozen; the other warm and toasty. A band of steel held her arms to her sides. She shifted restlessly, needing to pee, but these covers were too tight and this chair too hard. Her butt had fallen asleep.

  “Stay still,” a deep voice rumbled in her ear. “You can’t fall. I’ve got you.”

  Fall? “Tuck?” she asked weakly, her vision still blurry. “Is that you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, loosening his grip. “You’re safe now. Take your time and catch your breath.”

  “What happened?” she asked as she took in her surroundings. Nothing but nighttime and pine branches, above, below, and all around. She found herself sitting nearly on Tucker’s lap. “Sheesh. Where are we?”

  “Up a tree. I had to get you out of sight so here we are. You passed out just as I was about to amaze you with my deductive reasoning skills and tell you who’s behind this mess. What the hell happened back there?”

  Oh, snap. Yeah. Him. Her heart rate kicked up just thinking about what her second sight had seen. “You were right. Zaroyin’s got another psychic. I saw him. Then everything went blank.”

  “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s strong. Maybe stronger than me.”

  Tucker grunted. He nearly sounded like Tate. “No one’s stronger than you, Eden.”

  “This guy is. He’s got eyes the color of coal, and he looks like that guy in the mailroom. You know, the one with the bowl-cut.”

  “The one that looks like a skinny Moe?”

  “Who?”

  “The bossy guy on the Three Stooges.”

  Eden drew in a deep breath, hoping the extra oxygen would kick start her brain. “I’ve never watched the Three Stooges. Are they anything like Dumb and Dumber?”

  “Better,” Tucker purred. “Slapstick. You’d love them.”r />
  Somehow, Eden doubted that. She detested television as it was. Dumbing down America’s entertainment hadn’t made it better.

  “Only, I had the strongest sensation that he was sad. Mean and sad. Maybe sad because he was mean or forced to be mean or... snap. I don’t know.”

  “As I was saying—”

  Mother Nature called again. “Sorry, Tuck. You’ll have to wait. I need out of this tree so I can pee.”

  He chuckled deep in his throat. “Damn, you know how to hurt a guy’s ego, don’t you? Here. I think we’re safe enough. Take my hand. I’ll lower you down. There you go.”

  With his help, she maneuvered to ground level, a good fifteen feet or so below her perch. “How’d you get us both up there anyway? Are you a monkey or something?” she teased.

  “Deer hunter. Been in a few deer hides in my time.” He jumped to ground level and pointed to a fairly dense thicket to their right. “Those bushes over there ought to work. I’ll turn my back. Step on it.”

  “Ha.” She chuckled at his unintentional faux pas about stepping on it. “You don’t seriously mean that, do you?”

  He turned his back on her. “Just take care of business. Hurry up about it. We need to talk.”

  Eden dispensed with her poor attempt at humor and retreated behind the only available cover to relieve herself. It didn’t take long to pee, not as cold and dark as it was. She quickly zipped up her multiple layers and rejoined Tucker. “You can turn around now.”

  He scrubbed his gloved hands together and faced her. “Now, what was I telling you when you passed out on me? Oh, yes. I think I know who’s behind this whole mess. For one thing, those weren’t drones back there. They were FBI SWAT.”

  “I know. We already discussed this. They’re carrying FBI gear, remember? Man, Canada’s not going to like all of you FBI guys inside their borders.” She slapped some warmth back into her arms.

  “They’re not going to like the war that’s coming their way, either.”

  “So who’s behind the FBI takeover if not Zaroyin?”

  “Senator Bick. Somehow, he’s made an end run around Director Strong and got permission to come after us, and he’s using legitimate resources to do it.”

  “But we’re Americans. We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “So? Those guys back there don’t care. They’re following orders. Who knows what they’ve been told?”

  “But why would Bick want us?”

  “That, my dear, is the real question. You got a phone on you? Mine’s dead.”

  “No,” Eden replied. “We left so fast. I don’t have anything with me.”

  He retrieved his cell from his jacket pocket and smacked it into his palm. “It was working a minute ago. Stupid thing.”

  “Let me see it.”

  Tucker handed his phone over.

  Eden fiddled with it until the screen came to life in brilliant color, complete with the latest iOS technology and a gazillion apps. She sheltered the illumination with her palms in case anyone looked in their direction. “Hmm. Looks like it’s working to me.”

  He peered over her shoulder. “Yeah, right. Don’t play games with me. It’s dead, damn it. No power.”

  She frowned and pressed the phone icon, not sure what Tucker thought he saw. She accessed his recently called list and tapped a familiar name and number. “I just called Director Strong. It’s ringing.”

  “No shit? Great!” He grabbed the cell and pressed it to his ear. “Director Strong? Hello? Hello? Damn it, Eden. Don’t jerk me around like that. It’s not funny. This bullshit’s serious.”

  “Oh, snap, don’t hang up on him!” She rescued his phone before he could manhandle it any further and said loud and clear, “Director Strong? Hi. It’s me. Agent Stark.”

  “Eden! Thank God you’re safe. What the hell’s Tucker Chase doing there?”

  “He’s here with Sam to—”

  “Sam Becker?” Zachary Strong snapped. “What’s going on? Why are they there in Canada? I hired Alex to bring you home quietly. He sent two agents. I know he did. They should’ve been there by now.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Stewart sent Agents Ky Winchester and Tate Higgins, but Zaroyin’s men overran our camp. Tucker and I got separated from Ky and Tate, and—”

  Suppressed anger radiated all the way from D.C. “Put Chase on.”

  She pressed the speaker button for Tucker to join in.

  “Chase? You there? Mind telling me why you and Becker didn’t think to advise me before you went into Canada?”

  “Plausible deniability, sir,” Tucker replied smartly. “This deal is completely on us. We didn’t want you invol—”

  “Damn it, I am involved! I’ve been involved for months! The President will have my head for this unauthorized foray onto foreign soil, not to mention what the Canadian Prime Minister will do when he finds out.”

  “Not if we can bring Eden safely home.”

  “Then do it!” Strong snapped. “Shit, Chase. Get her home now. Zaroyin’s got international connec—”

  “And one of them is Senator Bick,” Tucker interrupted. “He’s the lynchpin, sir. Look into his dealings in Sierra Leone. Connect the dots.”

  Silence filled the chasm between Ontario and Virginia.

  “Sir? Are you there?” Tucker asked angrily. “Damn it, Eden. Did he just hang up on me?”

  “Director Strong?” she asked, not quite as forcefully as her companion.

  “Is there anything else you think I should be doing, Agent Chase?” Strong asked acidly. “Do you seriously think I don’t know what’s going on in Sierra Leone?”

  Eden let Tucker answer that one. He’d started this war with their director. He could finish it. “My apologies, sir, but—”

  “But nothing! This is a direct order. Bring Stark home, and do it now. Get her out of Canada and out of Zaroyin’s reach. Let me take care of the bastard.”

  “Yes, sir.” Tucker disconnected the call before Eden could get another word in edgewise. “You heard him, Stark. We’re going to get Zaroyin or die trying.”

  Eden froze. “Excuse me? Director Strong didn’t say that.”

  Tucker glared back, his pupils fully dilated, but not focused. He seemed to look right through her. “Bullshit. He wants Zaroyin’s head on a platter. You heard him. Move out. We can still apprehend the bastard if we’re quick about it.”

  “What’s wrong with you? Director Strong said nothing of the sort.”

  He snorted a billow of frosty vapor. “Are you questioning my authority?”

  “No, but I know what I heard and—” She took a step back from him.

  He slapped an angry fist in to his open palm. “I don’t have time for this, Stark. Zaroyin’s on the move, damn it. Let’s go.”

  “No,” she said softly, her hackles lifted at the un-Tucker-like behavior she was witnessing. The guy she knew cared about her safety more than anything else, which was why he continually banged heads with Ky. She clenched her fingers into a fist behind her back. “What did you hear Director Strong say?”

  Another snort. “The same as you, shithead. Neutralize Zaroyin with extreme prejudice. Take him out. Kill the bastard. Then his son. Now, move your dumb ass before he gets away. Let’s get it done and blow this place while we still can.”

  Shithead? Me? Oh, snap. Eden sucked in a deep breath. Somehow, Tucker was under Zaroyin’s influence. She lifted the back of her hand to her forehead and feigned a dizzy spell. “Ouch,” she whispered as if she were in pain. “My head.”

  “Knock off the drama, asshole. Get your lazy butt in gear and do it now!”

  Asshole? More proof Tucker was under someone else’s influence. Who was Black Eyes that he could influence a trained FBI agent from long distance?

  “I... I can’t,” she whimpered and dropped to her hands and knees, searching through the newly fallen snow for something solid to defend herself with. A rock. A branch. Anything.

  Tucker kicked a boot full of snow into her face. “You don
’t kid me. I’ve been around. You’re stalling, sailor. If you’re cruising for a Section 8, you’re barking up the wrong tree!”

  The crusted ice crystals he kicked at Eden stung her cheeks and forehead. This guy had totally lost touch with reality. Section 8s were ancient history. Anyone who’d served in the military knew that, especially an ex-Navy SEAL. It proved her theory. Whoever was at the other end of this psychic manipulation did not know military regs. Frantically, Eden raked beneath the snow for a deterrent. Nothing!

  He kicked at her, but didn’t connect with anything but snow. “I said move!”

  Eden rolled to her butt before she made eye contact, her elbows stuck in the snow and her fingers still searching. “Tuck. It’s me. Eden. You don’t want to hurt me. Zaroyin’s filled your mind with lies. It’s—”

  “Aw, for shit’s sake!” He lunged at her and knocked her flat, one hand at her throat, the other tugging the weapon from his holster. “I’m not telling you one more damned time, jerk-off,” he growled, his pistol pressed to her temple. “Now you listen and listen good. Man up or so help me, I will end you right the fuck—”

  BAM! She swung the thing her fingers had just located beneath the crusty snow with all her might, connecting with the side of his hard head. “Get off me!”

  Tucker blinked and stopped his assault, dazed. Not good enough! She hit him again, needing this heavy male off of her hips and stomach so she could breathe, darn him!

  His grip loosened. The pistol in his hand lowered to his thigh. Blood trickled down his cheek and dripped along his jawline.

  Adrenaline made her do it. She landed another good, hard smack before he shifted off of her and back to his haunches. She scrambled out from under him on her hands and knees, but kept possession of the thing in her hand, whatever it was. Oh. A chunk of ice. A little bloody and a little bit pointed, but hey. It had worked.