The Ripple Effect

by Alex Standish

  "Kit, it's Jack," Carson snarled, fear making him lose his temper. "I'm not going to leave him in the hands of Jabulani."

  "No, you're not. But storming the mansion without some sort of a plan won't help Jack, either. I'm going with you, and we'll be packing some serious heat. There's no telling how many men Jabulani has with him." She turned to Zere. "Give me the keys to the jeep. Stay here and look after the place."

  Zere crossed his arms angrily. "But I want to help."

  "And you can, by staying here." Kit turned to Carson. "Call the others, find out why Jack was alone. I'll get the weapons."

  "Let me use your phone," Carson said. "Mine suffered an accident this morning."

  Kit handed him her phone, then disappeared into the backroom. Carson called Roger's number, praying the rest of the team was still in town.

  "Kit?" Roger answered, his voice almost muffled by loud static.

  Carson winced at the noise. "It's Carson. Where the hell are you? You need to get back. Jack's been kidnapped by Jabulani."

  "Carson... breaking up. What... say?" It was clear they were getting out of range.

  "Roger," Carson pleaded. "You've got to get back. Now. Jack's in trouble."

  "Say again. I... hear you."

  "Fuck! Jack. Danger. Understand?" When no answer came, Carson said, "Rog? Roger? Can you hear me?" Receiving nothing but static, he disconnected the call with a growl. He saw Kit returning carrying a bag and he joined her. "I got through to Roger, but they must've been getting out of range. I don't think he understood me."

  "Then we're on our own. If they get back, Zere'll tell them where to go. Come on, we'll take Jack's jeep. I'll drive."

  "What's in the bag?" Carson asked as they raced to the Wrangler.

  "Guns and ammo. I've got a feeling we're going to need them," Kit replied grimly.

  # # #

  Jack's return to consciousness was slow and painful. His thought process was sluggish, his whole body felt numb and he was having trouble opening his eyes. When he finally did, he saw that he was lying spread eagle on a small cot, hands and feet tightly bound to the steel frame.

  He was currently alone in a large, dusty room, the walls around him made gray by time and neglect, a broken window letting the sun in. There was no other furniture, and the door was falling on its hinges.

  Two men walked in at that moment. The taller and younger of the two was obviously a bruiser, if the bulging muscles were any indication. Jack dismissed him from his mind, turning his attention to the second, older man. He had never seen the short, pudgy figure personally, but he had heard descriptions, seen photos of him before. It was Jabulani. Jack could only wonder at what kind of mess he was in this time around.

  "What do you want, Jabulani?" Jack rasped out.

  His captor ran a handkerchief over his sweat-sheened forehead, a pleased smile of his face. "I'm flattered you know who I am, Mr. MacKenzie. That will make things easier for us." When Jack remained silent, Jabulani prompted, "Aren't you going to ask why you're here?"

  Jack sighed. "Let me guess; revenge? I've been a thorn in your side, blah, blah, blah," he drawled sarcastically.

  Jabulani didn't seem thrown by the sarcasm. "Precisely. For a year now, you've been meddling in my affairs, making a nuisance of yourself. And I'm tired of it."

  "Is this the part where the villain tells his about-to-die nemesis all about his dastardly plan to rule the world, only to have the good guy making a dashing escape?"

  Jabulani laughed. "I'm afraid there'll be no dashing escape for you, or a last minute rescue, for that matter." He waved a careless hand in the air. "There's very little I don't know about what happens in my country, Mr. MacKenzie. I've got eyes and ears everywhere. When I heard about John and Rebecca Isaac's research in the N'bulungi, I was extremely interested. A toxin that affects the mind..." He shook his head in wonder. "And then it came to me, the perfect way to get rid of you. The perfect revenge, and I wouldn't even have to kill you. I had one of my men travel to N'bulungi, bring a sample from the water."

  "Really?" Jack asked, trying to sound nonchalant, when in fact his heart was threatening to jump out of his throat.

  "Hm," Jabulani said. "You know, one of my meth cooks is quite the scientist. He spent hours studying the toxin and its effects on mice. And he concocted a new drug especially for you, for this moment, using the toxin."

  "I'm touched," Jack gritted out, thinking that Carson was beginning to rub off on him. Sarcasm had never been his thing before he met his new partner.

  "This drug," Jabulani continued as if Jack hadn't spoken, "will deprive you of everything we call civilized. One single dose will take away your will, your conscience, your humanity. You'll become a savage, a murderer without morals. Once we release you on the streets of Jawara, you'll kill, rape, destroy everything in your path. It'll be amusing to see how long you'll last before a street thug or even one of your friends is forced to take you down."

  Jabulani tucked the handkerchief away, then walked over to Jack, removing a syringe and a small vial from one of his coat pockets. Jack struggled fiercely against the ropes binding him, swallowing hard as he watched Jabulani fill the syringe full of liquid.

  "You can't do this. My friends'll tear you apart."

  Jabulani smiled mockingly. "How? They've got no idea what happened to you. They'll never know what made you... go insane." He tapped the syringe gently with his finger, before looking down at Jack. "Time to go bye-bye, Mr. MacKenzie."

  Jack sucked in a desperate breath. He had been in dangerous situations for most of his life, but this was different somehow. It was one thing to face someone with a gun in your hand, knowing you had a chance to fight back. But he was powerless against this madman, and he knew no one would be coming to the rescue, at least not fast enough to prevent Jabulani from drugging him out of his mind.

  Jabulani pushed Jack's sleeve back and plunged a needle into his arm with cruel intensity. Jack bit his lip to stop from crying out at the painful sting, trying to breathe deeply, fighting the abrupt sense of panic that flooded through him. The insidious drug hit his bloodstream, making him feel dizzy and disoriented, sweat breaking out all over his body as his heartbeat increased its tempo.

  As he felt his mind begin to shut down, he had enough time to spare a thought for his friends, for Carson, regretting he would never get to say goodbye, never get to hold him one last time. He felt a shudder as he recalled Jabulani's words; this drug would turn him into a monster, capable of killing his friends, the people who had become his family. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting them or hurting Carson; he would rather they kill him first.

  And Carson, God, Carson. Jack really hoped Jabulani would leave his lover alone. His last conscious memory was of Carson that morning as Jack had left him; naked on the bed, wantonly licking peach juice from his fingers, green eyes warm with mischief and love.

  # # #

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was going to be another hot day, Carson thought absently as Kit drove them through the jungle. He closed his eyes against the glare of the sun, his jaw clenching at the wave of dizziness assailing him. The day before he had been so relieved at being saved, at seeing Jack and his friends again after the whole mess with Batho, that he hadn't really been aware of the strain the fire and near drowning had caused his body.

  And today in bed and at the bar, he hadn't really been doing much, so it hadn't registered either. But now he was running on adrenaline, wound tighter than a clock, and his body was warning him his reserves were down. Not that it mattered if he collapsed; just as long as they managed to find Jack in time. But he definitely wasn't at his best.

  Kit stopped the jeep, and Carson opened his eyes, looking around until he spotted the old building barely visible in the trees to his left.

  "That's it," Kit said in a low voice. "I can't get us any closer without the risk of being seen or heard."

  Carson jumped from the jeep. "Let's gear up."

  He would have lik
ed for the rest of the team to be there, but every minute was time wasted, time in which Jabulani and his thugs might be hurting Jack. No way in hell was Carson waiting for backup. Opening the bag Kit had brought with her, he chose two handguns equipped with silencers, and extra ammo clips which he tucked in his pockets. A light, but deadly-looking dagger caught his eye and he picked that as well, along with its sheath, which he fastened around his right arm, hidden under his shirt's sleeve.

  "Ready?" Kit asked him.

  "Yeah. Let's go."

  Carson took a deep breath, and he and Kit ventured into the thick jungle. As they drew closer to their target, he saw a man patrolling the front of the mansion and signaled Kit that he would take him out. He crawled silently through the vegetation, sneaking up behind the guard.

  The man must have sensed him, because he began to turn around. Carson didn't waste a second; he punched the guard hard, knocking him out cold, knuckles throbbing painfully with the force of the blow. Carson dragged the man away from the building, behind some large bushes, praying it would be a while before he woke up or was spotted.

  He looked up, seeing Kit carrying another man deep into the jungle and felt a grim satisfaction. Two of Jabulani's men were down for the count. He could only hope the rest would be this easy.

  Joining Kit by the main entrance, Carson kept as low as possible, eyes constantly roaming over their surroundings, senses alert to any unexpected threat. They crouched down by what looked like a brand new door, its sturdiness very at odds with the rest of the run-down house.

  "Here goes nothing," Carson muttered, reaching for the door and giving it a slight push.

  When that didn't produce any results, he tried the handle. Nothing happened. The door didn't open, but neither did any alarms go off or any guards came running. Carson shook his head at Jabulani's overconfidence; considering the man's occupation, one would assume he would be more paranoid about security. Then again, they had taken out two of his men already and they weren't even inside yet. Maybe the man had an army in the mansion and didn't really need fancy technology to keep him safe.

  Kit made a circular motion with her finger and Carson nodded. Together, they circled the building carefully, trying to find an entrance. Before they could complete the circuit, a man holding a .45 pistol came around the corner. In the blink of an eye, Kit tackled the man to the ground, straddling him, and without giving him any time to react, slugged him twice.

  "Nice save," Carson whispered as they hid the man's body behind a fallen tree trunk.

  "Thanks," she replied in the same tone.

  Satisfied that the man wouldn't be giving them any more trouble, they continued their search, finding a window on the first floor with a broken latch. Carson climbed into the creepy house, drawing his gun as he allowed his eyes to adjust to the gloomy darkness. He found himself in a lounge of sorts, a couch and countless chairs occupying every available space, a coffee pot resting on a table, magazines spread throughout two other tables.

  He helped Kit to climb inside, then gestured to the open door. They left the room, emerging into a long, gray corridor with several doors on either side. Carson held his breath as he realized they would have to separate to search the rooms. He motioned to his left with a thumb, Kit nodded and took the right side.

  Heart in his throat at the thought of what he might find, Carson walked quietly along the corridor, taking a peek in each of the rooms, his dread increasing as he found what looked like a laboratory of some kind in one. He spotted a staircase and crept over, his gut telling him that Jack was up there. He found himself in yet another corridor, more doors on each side. The first rooms were deserted, and like most of the ones on the floor below, sparsely furnished--if at all.

  He kept going, a drop of sweat trailing down his cheek as he opened the last door. He nearly sobbed with relief at the vision before him; Jack was lying on the cot, tied spread eagle and apparently unconscious, but very much alive.

  "Jack!" he whispered urgently.

  He rushed over to the other man, switching the gun to his other hand, already reaching for the dagger hidden within his sleeve. He cut the ropes binding Jack to the cot's steel frame, rubbing raw wrists gently as he tried to rouse the blond.

  He gasped as Jack abruptly sprang to his feet, backing away from Carson. There was no life in Jack's eyes, no fire, no hint he even knew what was happening or that he recognized Carson. The stormy hazel eyes were empty, all light drained out of them.

  Refusing to shout out his rage at his lover's condition, Carson took a step closer to Jack. "Hey, there," he said soothingly. "It's me, Jack. Carson."

  He inched closer still, biting his lip uncertainly as Jack swayed slightly. Should he try to reach him? To touch him? Jack didn't move as Carson approached, daring to rest his hand on Jack's arm. He simply stood still, eyes focused inward, seemingly not aware he wasn't alone.

  "God, Jack," Carson murmured heartbroken. "What the hell did that bastard do to you?"

  It hurt to see Jack in such an apathetic state. Carson wanted the fire back, the spark always present whenever they were together. He needed it desperately.

  "And who might you be?" a voice asked from the doorway.

  Carson turned to see Jabulani standing at the entrance, a gun aimed at him. "Jabulani," he spat. "What the hell have you done to Jack?"

  Jabulani grinned as he moved further into the room. "Ah, Mr. Bodine. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you at first. I'm surprised to see you here. And yes, your friend's condition is my doing. Wonderful, isn't it? Drop your gun, please. Kick it away."

  Carson obeyed, aware that he was still holding the dagger in his hand, his closed fist hiding it from view. "What have you done to Jack?" he asked again.

  "Drugged him, of course. One of my men concocted a drug especially for Mr. MacKenzie. The main component was the toxin found in N'bulungi. It's made him quite violent." His eyes fell on Jack. "Don't let this apparent calmness fool you. He's already killed one of my men since he's been injected with the drug. He tried to escape while my man was helping him relieve himself; smashed his skull into the wall. Quite impressive, actually. It took four of my men to restrain him again."

  "Does it wear off?" Carson asked roughly. "Does the drug wear off?"

  Jabulani's smile widened. "That's one of life's mysteries, Mr. Bodine. My... er, chemist ran some tests on his mice to determine that, but they were inconclusive. The mice either killed each other or ended up dead for some reason he couldn't determine. So, Mr. MacKenzie can remain like this for days... or forever."

  Carson felt a cold, hard fury take over his heart. This fucker was responsible not only for kidnapping Jack, but also for stealing everything that made Jack the man he was. Carson wanted Jabulani dead, and as painfully as possible.

  Behind him Carson heard Jack move, distracting Jabulani. Carson acted without any conscious thought; he threw the dagger at Jabulani with a twist of his wrist, his breath harsh, body coiled tightly as he watched the blade plunge through the Jawaran's heart. He watched dispassionately as Jabulani crumpled to the floor, a look of disbelief on his pudgy face, blood staining his once pristine white shirt.

  Sanity returned and Carson blinked. It should scare him, the lengths he was prepared to go for Jack, but all he felt was vindicated. In fact, he felt decisively sorry for his lack of restraint; Jabulani had died far too quickly. His eyes settled on Jack and a maddening rage threatened to wash over him again. Forcing himself to remain calm, he moved closer to his lover.

  Jack was standing by the wall now, motionless, lost inside his own mind and Carson wondered what to do. They couldn't stay there, but trying to move Jack might prove dangerous. If Jabulani had told the truth, then Jack could revert to the madman he had been while in N'bulungi at the blink of an eye. On the other hand, he hadn't tried to hurt Carson; had even allowed himself to be touched by him. Carson couldn't help wonder somewhat woefully if maybe Jack knew on some subconscious level that it was Carson there with him.

  Wit
h some trepidation, Carson reached for Jack's hand, taking it gently in his. When nothing happened, he took a deep breath.

  "So far so good," he said as he looked at Jack, careful to keep his voice soft. "I guess there's nothing I can do but hope you don't go nuts on me. Come on, we've got to find Kit. I've got no idea if there're any more of Jabulani's men around, so we'll need to be careful," he said as he snatched his gun from the floor.

  Jack followed him meekly down the corridor, no evidence of the violence in him that Jabulani had proclaimed. They went down the stairs, along the corridor. There was no sign of Kit anywhere. Thinking she might be outside, Carson made it to the main entrance. They were walking out the door when another guard came running up, firing his gun. The bullet caught Carson in the left shoulder, throwing him backwards into Jack. Carson's finger squeezed the trigger instinctively, his shot striking the guard in return.

  Pain invaded his world as he tried not to pass out, knowing Jack was vulnerable at the moment and needed him to be alert and functional. And of course, Carson himself was vulnerable because Jack might lose it at any moment and cause him further injuries. He grunted as he was suddenly thrown over Jack's shoulder in a fireman's carry, surprised the other man had been able to do so on his own.

  He thought he heard Jack growl, "Protect," then consciousness left him.

  # # #

  Slowly, painfully, Carson became aware of his surroundings. He was half-lying on the hard ground, half-sitting on Jack's lap. The other man had his arms wrapped firmly around him and was rocking him gently, although there was still no awareness on his features.

  Carson lifted his head from Jack's warm shoulder, scanning the jungle around them. The mansion was nowhere in sight; all he could see were trees and more trees. Apparently Carson had been out for a while because the weather was beginning to change; heavy clouds were gathering in the skies above them, hiding the morning sun, and the wind was blowing colder. It looked like another rainy day.