The Ripple Effect

by Alex Standish

  Carson snorted. "That's his problem. He'll be lucky if I don't kick his ass black and blue. And believe me, that's not the toxin talking. I can't believe I actually had a relationship with that asshole."

  "You do realize what'll you be giving up with him, don't you?" Jack asked grimly. "The money, the life style..."

  "Jack, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to change my mind." Carson met Jack's gaze openly, face heating because he realized the others were probably hanging on their every word, but wanting Jack to see he was being sincere. "There's more to life than money, Jack. And you've shown me what I really want."

  "Which is?" Jack asked, sounding oddly hushed.

  "Someone to laugh with, to cry with, someone to fall asleep by my side and wake up next to me, bad breath and all," Carson quipped. "Someone to talk to, be silent with, to agree with, to fight with, someone to share the good, the bad, and the lousy stuff in life." Seeing Jack poleaxed expression, he grinned bashfully. "What can I say, you bring out the romantic in me."

  "I thought you sucked at the emotional stuff," Jack said, after clearing his throat.

  Carson shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly self-conscious. "I'm making an effort." He was, too. Seeing the cold, hard stranger that Jack had become due to the toxin, wondering if he would ever recover, had been an eye opener. Carson couldn't conceive his life without Jack in it any longer, he didn't want to. He hesitated, then, "If... If you don't like the idea of me going alone, maybe you could come with me? We could fly to Colorado as well, visit your parents?"

  He felt his heart beating faster at the tenderness in Jack's smile. "It's okay, Carson. You go back, do what you've got to do. I'll be here waiting for you."

  "Jack..." Carson glanced at the other man. "I won't be joining your little troop, not exactly."

  Jack didn't look too happy about that. "Why not?"

  "I'll help you with anything you need, whenever and whatever that may be. But if I went to live at the camp with you, I'd probably drive you all insane within the first week," Carson replied honestly. "I've got some money put aside for emergencies, I was thinking of maybe using it to get myself some kind of business here. I'm not sure what, but there's still time to think about it."

  Jack nodded. "All right, I can understand that. Anything, as long as you're staying," he added with feeling.

  "I'll stay in Jawara for the next two days. I want to make sure you're all right." He snickered at Jack's scowl. "Then I'll leave for the States. A week, two at most, should be enough to tie up any loose ends. And then I'm all yours."

  Carson flushed at both the silly smile that lit up Jack's face at his words, and his hungry gaze. He was surprised to realize he couldn't wait to deal with everything back in the States so he could return to Jawara. And Jack.

  # # #

  They didn't stay in Durak. Instead, they climbed into their vehicles and drove to Jawara City, and straight to the hospital. There, Jack, Carson and Becca Isaac were poked and prodded by doctors and interns alike, while tests were conducted to make certain there were no side-effects to the toxin.

  After what felt like hours to Jack, Brendan finally walked into the cubicle where they were waiting for the test results. "You're all free to go," he said. "The preliminary tests don't show anything wrong, but you better stay in town for the next twenty-four hours or so, just in case." He smiled at Becca. "Your husband's on the second floor, in room two-hundred and four. He's recovering well. The doctors will release him in the morning."

  She jumped up from the bed where she had been sitting. "Thank you." She looked at them, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "You saved my life, reunited me with my husband... I don't know what to say, how to thank you for everything."

  "You and your husband being alive is all the thanks we need," Brendan said. "You better go up to see him. He's been asking about you constantly."

  She nodded. "Thanks again. If you ever need anything, we're in the Jawaran phone book. Anything at all."

  When she was gone, Brendan turned to Jack and Carson, shaking his head admonishingly at them. Jack was stretched out on the thin mattress, his head resting comfortably on Carson's lap, all but purring as Carson ran his fingers through his hair. Jack knew their total lack of concern for what others might see annoyed Brendan, but right now he couldn't care less. Let the hospital staff think what they like, Jack was enjoying this too much to move.

  "I'm going to keep an eye on you two for the next day," Brendan said. "The others'll go back to Durak, but the three of us are going to Kit's place."

  "I probably should stop by the hotel," Carson said with a small frown. "If I don't make an appearance, they'll end up giving my room away."

  "Not tonight, you're not," Brendan retorted. "I'm still the doctor around here and what I say goes. I told Jackie to stop by the hotel, to pick you up some clean clothes and anything else you might need. She'll make sure to tell someone at the reception desk that you'll return to the hotel in a day or so."

  "You better give in," Jack told Carson with resigned humor. "The more you fight him, the worse he'll get. Come on, let's get out of here."

  They left the hospital and met up with the rest of the team, who were waiting outside.

  "You guys okay?" Vivian asked.

  "We're fine," Jack said. "Pick up Jackie at Kit's flat, then go back to the camp, get a good night's rest. Carson, Brendan and I'll be staying at Kit's. Vivian, Roger, I want you back here tomorrow morning. Find Jabulani and have a word with him, show him the error of his ways, so to speak. We don't have any tangible proof he was working with Geils, but maybe we can persuade him to keep out of our affairs from now on."

  Roger saluted smartly. "You got it, ol' dog. See ya tomorrow."

  Jack waved them away, and walked over to his jeep with Carson, Brendan right behind them. He let Brendan drive, feeling a residual sense of anxiety from the toxin, and a slight headache, but he knew better than to say anything. Carson would worry about him, and probably insist that Brendan take Jack back to the hospital if he knew. And Jack didn't feel like dealing with more doctors and nurses hovering over him.

  All he wanted now was to find the nearest available bed and collapse for a week. And if Carson got to share his bed, even if only to sleep, all the better.

  Once at the apartment, both Jack and Carson threw themselves on top of the bed, ignoring Brendan's good-naturedly grumbling about lazy-asses as he removed their shoes and covered them with a blanket. Jack snuggled up to Carson's warm, pliant body and was instantly asleep.

  # # #

  The next afternoon, Jack found himself wandering down a filthy alley, knowing that Carson and Brendan were not far behind. He glanced around, catching sight of a shadow hovering in one of the doorways. "Melech?" he called out softly.

  A slim man drifted closer, and as always, the sight of him made Jack's heart ache. Melech looked much older than his forty-something years, his face wrinkled by too much sun and hard times, his body malnourished and frail to the point that Jack was almost afraid to touch him, for fear the man might break.

  "You have something for us?" Brendan asked as he joined them.

  Melech ran his tongue along sweaty lips. "I've asked everyone I know; Jabulani's gone underground for some reason."

  "Dammit. I want to know where the hell he is," Jack said, frustrated.

  Jabulani was up to something. Considering all the security people the man kept around him, Jack doubted that Jabulani had disappeared just because he was afraid of what Jack might do to him. Sure, he must have found out about Jack's connection to Carson. And he probably heard through the grapevine that Carson had returned the medical supplies. But that alone wasn't enough to make the greedy slimeball go into hiding.

  When Vivian and Roger had gone after him this morning, there hadn't been a sign of Jabulani anywhere. They had tried his home, the casino, all his favorite haunts, and nothing. He might as well have vanished into thin air.

  "There're rumors he's in Njau, but nothi
ng's been confirmed," Melech said. "I'm almost hundred percent sure he's not here in town, so maybe it's true. I don't think he'd leave the country. He's probably just laying low for a while. But I can't give you any sure answers. I'm sorry, Jack."

  Jack scowled at the ground. "It's not your fault. I guess I just don't like the idea of him getting away."

  "I can tell you something else," Melech said. "The word on the streets is that something's big going to happen soon. Nobody I talked to seems to know what exactly, but everybody's restless. I thought you should know."

  Brendan tightened his lips. "You think Jabulani might be behind it?"

  Melech shrugged. "Who knows? It might explain why he disappeared. Maybe he's taking care of some last minute details. Or it could be someone else. He's not the only criminal in Jawara."

  "No, but he usually has his hand in anything big that goes down. Thanks, my friend." Jack handed Melech two twenty-dollar bills. "Get in touch if you hear anything. And take care of yourself."

  "I will."

  "What now?" Brendan asked when Melech was gone.

  "Jabulani didn't leave the country; he likes being king of the mountain too much to leave his empire behind. And all our informants seem to agree he's not in town. I can't see him 'debase' himself to living with one of the tribes, so that leaves Njau. It's too late to drive up there today," Jack said. "But tomorrow morning after Carson leaves, I want you, Jarod and Roger to go to Njau and search for him."

  "Then what?" Brendan asked. "You said it yourself, we've got nothing on him."

  "No. But maybe you can put the fear of God into him. That'll show him not to mess with us in the future."

  Brendan looked doubtful. "I don't know, Jack. You try to corner a wild animal and he'll turn on you. Maybe we should leave it alone."

  "Not this time, Brendan. Not this time."

  Jabulani's vanishing act had put him in a lousy mood. The fact that Carson was leaving for the States the next day wasn't helping matters either. He saw Carson leaning against the wall, keeping out of the way, lest Melech refused to speak in front of a stranger. Carson gave him a sweet smile and Jack felt his mood lighten a little. He might have to be without Carson for the next week or so, but they still had their dinner date tonight. And he planned to make the most of it.

  # # #

  Chapter Ten

  The Shahaab was a cozy, late-night dining spot with an exotic atmosphere. Jack had reserved the private room for them, a room used mainly for groups over ten people, but tonight it would be theirs alone. Every wall was covered with colorful African paintings, wood carvings, and even musical instruments of Jawaran origin, while soothing tribal chants could be heard as if from afar.

  Wildlife videos were projected on one wall, and the ceiling was lined with fairy lights to resemble a starry night. Seating arrangements were either on the couch running along two of the walls, or on comfortable chairs with darkwood tables. Carson was sitting on the couch, and after a brief internal struggle, Jack had chosen a chair. He would have liked to sit next to Carson, but he didn't think he would be able to keep his hands off of Carson, and he wanted to eat dinner first.

  "This is great," Carson said with feeling, as he tasted the food.

  They had both ordered the same dish, Chicken Yassa, chicken marinated in a lemon-onion mixture and served with rice.

  "It's one of my favorites," Jack said. "I love the combination of lemon, chile, onion and chicken. It's pretty easy to do, too."

  "You like to cook?" Carson asked as he sipped the local wine their waiter had recommended.

  "Sometimes. It's not like I've got the time, but once in a while, when I'm in the mood, yeah. You?"

  Carson laughed quietly. "Sorry. I've tried to learn, but I'm a disaster in the kitchen. It's amazing I haven't torched my flat doing scrambled eggs." He looked around, once again taking in the empty tables. "Thanks for doing this, Jack, it's wonderful."

  "I wanted to be alone with you," Jack replied honestly. "We come here a lot when we're in town. It's quiet, the food's great and the owner knows us, so we always get special treatment."

  "What does Shahaab mean?"

  "Shooting star," Jack replied with a grin.

  Carson laughed. "The Pleiades again, Jack?" He sobered. "Can I ask you something?"

  Jack took a bite of his chicken. "Sure. What's up?"

  "It's about Jabulani," Carson began hesitantly. "When I won the shipment from him, you guys mentioned having dealt with his men before, and this afternoon you said you wouldn't leave him alone this time. What's your beef with him?"

  Jack looked up at the ceiling. "We've had trouble with his men almost from the day we got here," he said quietly. "There was one time when we tried to help a group of storekeepers downtown to get rid of an extortion ring, only to find out the man behind it was Jabulani. Or when we helped arrest a loan shark and Jabulani's name came up again when we talked to a few of the shark's customers. A couple of Vivian's and Kit's friends asked us to find three runaways. We found two of them turning tricks, the third filled to the gills on drugs. Again there were connections to Jabulani. He's said to own most of the brothels in town, and he's one of the country's major drug dealers. We've always managed to get his men arrested, but they never rat out on their boss. And whatever witnesses we find are too afraid to testify against him."

  Carson reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. "I'm sorry."

  "There's more, but I think you get the picture. I guess the shipment was the final straw for me. This bastard knows the tribes are dying, his own countrymen, and he still gets the meds stolen. I feel like wringing his neck." He let out a startled gasp, his mind suddenly conjuring Geils' face at the moment of his death. "Shit."

  He was having a hard time dealing with Geils' death. Or if he was honest with himself, not so much with the death, but the way he had killed the man. Having been in the Navy Seals, and then becoming a mercenary, he was no stranger to death. But it was one thing to do it in self-defense or in a fight. Geil's demise at his hands had been brutal, and in spite of Carson's reassurances, most likely preventable.

  He looked at Carson and winced inwardly. Another regret, the way he had treated the other man. He knew that as far as Carson was concerned it was forgiven and forgotten, but Jack wouldn't be able to forget for a long time. Or forgive himself.

  "Here."

  Carson's voice brought him back from his brooding thoughts and Jack blinked, confused. Carson's fork was inches away from his mouth, a piece of chicken caught securely in its prongs.

  "Carson, we're eating the same thing."

  Carson grinned. "I know. But food always tastes better when you steal it from someone else's plate."

  "I didn't steal it," Jack countered, amused.

  Carson rolled his eyes. "Semantics. Now, taste it."

  Jack obeyed, feeling a little flustered when Carson's eyes focused on his lips, his green eyes darkening with arousal.

  "You're right," he said, after eating the appetizing morsel. "It does taste better than mine."

  "Told you so," Carson said smugly.

  Controlling the urge to throw Carson on the table and wipe the smirk off his face with an intense bout of lovemaking, Jack forced the conversation back on track.

  "How about you tell me some of the cases you handled as a P.I.? Maybe some weird ones?"

  Carson shook his head ruefully. "Oh, there've been a few, all right. Okay, let's see... The first time I put an ad on the phonebook, this fruitcake came to see me complaining that she'd been burned in a drug deal." He chuckled. "I thought I'd heard wrong at first, or that it was a prank. Anyway, she claimed that a man had sold her a rock of crack cocaine but when she brought it home, it looked like baking powder."

  "What did you do?"

  "I called my friend Paul at the NYPD and we tested the rock, which despite its appearance, really was cocaine. Obviously, the woman was arrested for drug possession."

  "Unbelievable," Jack said. "No wonder you thought it was a prank
. Got any more?"

  "Yeah. Last year, this guy came to see me, claimed he had robbed a Citibank and wanted to turn himself in to someone other than the cops. He felt it was safer that way. I had a hard time believing he was telling the truth."

  "How come?"

  "Well, his left arm was in a cast, he was wearing a cervical collar, and was carrying a white hospital bag. When I questioned him, he also couldn't remember the exact day, time, location of the bank, or the nearest cross street. But I had to make sure, so after a few phone calls, I discovered there had indeed been a robbery, so I drove him to the bank. He was I.D.'d by the tellers the moment he stepped in through the door."

  "You're kidding!" Jack challenged incredulous. "How did he rob the bank in his condition?

  "He didn't. Apparently he was involved in a car accident right after the robbery, and besides the obvious fractures, he also suffered one hell of a concussion, which explained the memory loss."

  "But why turn himself in?"

  "In his confused state he decided the accident was a sign from God, telling him to get his act together, or else. He thought doing time might be better than upsetting the Big Guy upstairs."

  They laughed softly for a while before a comfortable silence settled over them. They finished their meal, and Jack asked for two coffees with a touch of Irish cream, another favorite.

  "You still want to go to the movies?" Jack asked.

  "Actually, no. Maybe we could go for a walk or something instead? Or we could go back to my hotel room and have a nightcap?"

  Jack met Carson's gaze, knowing what was really being offered. "I'll go up with you if you want, but only for the nightcap, nothing more."

  "Why not?" Carson asked, sounding a little hurt.

  Jack took his hand, caressing the back with his thumb. "There's no pressure, Carson, I told you that," he said gently. "Tomorrow you're going home, to familiar territory, to everything you've known all your life. If you decide you don't want to come back... I'm afraid that if I make love to you, for real, no toxins, no weird moods, I won't be able to let you go."

  Carson turned his hand, so their palms touched. "I'm coming back, Jack. Trust me."