by James Hilton
“Great, I’ll take three.”
He was rewarded with another winning smile. The overhead lights reflected as bright spots in the slim-lensed glasses that she sported.
“That’ll be eighty-seven dollars.”
Danny counted out nine ten-dollar bills and handed them over. As an afterthought he added, “Do you carry Tasers or anything like that?”
“Sure.” The ponytail swished again as she moved from behind the counter towards an enclosed display unit further into the store. “We have these.”
Danny looked into the case. The dozen or so stun guns lay next to a range of lock knives and pepper sprays. “My niece is going to college soon… I want her to be safe, you know.”
Ponytail bobbed her head in understanding. “Yeah, you can’t be too careful.”
“I don’t know much about them. Which is the strongest?”
“This is a good one.” She reached into the case and retrieved a unit that resembled an ammo clip. Two silver prongs extended a half-inch from the top of the handle. “This Sabre model can deliver multiple shocks on one charge. The battery life is excellent as well.”
“How much?”
Ponytail smiled, a flirtatious glint in her eye. “Well, seeing as you’ve spent lots already I could let you have this for a straight fifty bucks.”
“How much is it normally?”
“Forty-nine ninety-nine!”
“Wow, a real bargain.”
“Better believe it.”
After paying, Danny left the store with his purchases and Ponytail gave him a little finger wave as he glanced back at her. Seconds later she was busy opening stock boxes.
“She loves me, she loves me not,” he said, smiling to himself.
Tansen was eating a chocolate bar with gusto when Danny returned to the Hummer. Danny declined a bite of the rapidly disappearing Hershey bar, and Tansen swallowed the last inch and a half in one mouthful. After wiping his hands on the legs of his jeans, Tansen slipped the Hummer into drive and they headed out of town. The casino doorman had disappeared, smoke break over. The weather-worn plastic rabbit had not lost his manic expression.
As they followed the road back to the house, Danny pondered the events of the previous night again and the many possible futures. “We’ll be moving on as soon as possible,” he said.
Glancing over, his dark Nepalese eyes inscrutable as always, Tansen gave a half shrug. “You’re welcome at my place as long as you need. You know that.”
“And appreciate it. But there’s a very good chance that a shitstorm is following on our heels. I don’t want to get you caught up in it as well. If we’d had options we’d never have bothered you.”
“I’m glad to have you. We’ve both been through storms before; one more wouldn’t kill us.” Tansen’s laugh lightened the mood.
“Nah, jokes aside, we don’t know what the hell we’re up against. I think the best strategy is to keep on the move until we’ve got more intel on these guys. I need to figure out who they are, what resources they have and how to get them off our backs.”
“Devil’s advocate?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Drop Andrea off at the main precinct in Vegas. Let the cops earn their money. You and Clay go on an extended vacation. I hear Italy is nice this time of year.”
“I couldn’t just walk away. She has no one over here. She’s desperate.”
Tansen slowed the Hummer. “What do you really know about this girl?”
“How do you mean?”
“How do you know she isn’t a criminal on the run? Let’s face it, military teams do not go out on thrill-kill vacations. They were assigned for a reason, and there’s no good reason I can think of.”
Danny rubbed his face. He suddenly felt very tired. “I don’t know, she seems genuine to me. She was half dead last night.”
“I’m not doubting the effect, I just want you to consider the cause.”
“My gut tells me she’s telling the truth.”
“Okay,” Tansen replied. “I had to say it. Just covering all the bases.”
“I know.”
“One last question.”
“Shoot.”
“If it had been a man that had come to you for help, would you be going to the same lengths to protect him?”
Danny huffed. “I’m not doing it for a shot at some action.”
“Then why?”
“Why did you stand up on that train in India?”
Tansen’s head dipped as he remembered the situation that had brought him to America. “Because no one else was going to.”
Danny spread his hands and gave a slight nod. “Exactly.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and stop playing devil’s advocate now. You’re way too good at it.”
15
Andrea wolfed down the food that Clay had prepared. The steak and salad really hit the spot. She found herself talking through mouthfuls of beef and lettuce. “So I get you and Danny now, but I’m still at a loss with Tansen.”
“Ah, that man takes a bit of explaining.”
“You seemed very cautious when we first arrived. What was that about?”
Clay cut a square from his steak, the fork hovering near his lips. “Last year we were having a beer together and I made the mistake of saying that the Bowie knife was the best knife in the world.”
“And…?”
“You know what a Gurkha knife is, right?”
“Yeah, it’s like a banana-shaped machete.”
“Well, you should never mix beer and knives. Five minutes later we were in the bar’s parking lot. Tansen was stabbing his kukri through an old oil drum, cutting it to scrap. I tried to do the same with my Bowie. The first slash bounced off the drum and cut his arm open.”
“Oh.”
“Tansen would have killed anyone else where they stood. He just glared at me, then jumped into his car and left.”
“Have you spoken since?”
“Not until today.”
Andrea chewed, considering. “Lessons learned then, huh?”
“Damn right.”
“So how did he end up out here? Gurkhas hardly get let into Britain and they serve in our army.”
Clay smiled again. “Tansen’s a rare thing. A genuine hero.”
“How so?”
“A few years ago there was a train going across India. At a stop in a remote village, a gang of about fifty bandits boarded. They moved through the train, robbing everyone and beating those who tried to resist. And you have to understand that these were real cut-throats. A lot of people were hurt.”
Andrea put down her fork. “Jeez.”
“There were two American students. Girls backpacking their way across Asia. One of the girls was blonde and stood out like a sore thumb. Some of the bandits decided that they were going to do more than rob them.”
“Oh, God…” Andrea knew what was coming next.
“As they started ripping off the girls’ clothes, one man stood up.”
“Tansen.”
Clay’s voice was low with respect. Andrea held her breath. “He killed three men before they knew what was happening. Damn near chopped the first guy’s head off.”
Andrea’s meal was temporarily forgotten. She was surprised to feel warm tears in her eyes.
“The rest of the bandits went for him. A few of them had guns but couldn’t get a clear shot.” Clay gestured with his hands “Confined space, y’know? They kept attacking him with their sticks and knives and he kept chopping them up. By the time the police arrived they’d had enough and made a run for it.” Clay grinned wryly. “Well, apart from the ones he’d sliced and diced. He killed three and seriously injured another eight.”
Andrea grimaced. An image of her own blood-soaked attackers flashed through her mind.
“When the police and the newspapers interviewed him later, he said he was prepared to be robbed but not to watch girls be brutalised.” Clay pointed to his own elbow. “The tendons in
his left arm were severed in the attack. His surgery was paid for in a private hospital and he was given a medal by the Indian government for his bravery… oh, and free travel on India’s rail network for life.”
“I should think so, too. So how did he end up out here?”
“One of the students he saved was the daughter—the only child—of a Nevada congressman. A guy called Lew Phillips. He pulled some strings and Tansen was granted American citizenship.”
“I had no idea. That was never reported on our news.”
“It only made ours because Phillips made it news. So Tansen and his wife, Raj, moved out here. As you can see he really likes his cowboy folklore.”
“So he’s a man to be reckoned with.” She resumed eating.
“And then some.”
“That’s a hell of a story.”
“Hell of a man.”
Andrea finished her food in quiet thought. She washed up the dishes and utensils then switched the TV back to the news channels. Another ten minutes of channel hopping provided no more new details than the earlier reports. Many of the segments were the same ones as they’d already watched. News on a loop. Same words, same faces, no new information. She hit the mute button.
Clay turned from the window where he’d been standing. “The guys are back.”
She stood next to the big Texan and peered through the window. The bulky Hummer was parked outside. A cloud of dust mushroomed around the vehicle for a couple of seconds then drifted lazily to the ground. She watched with new eyes as Danny and Tansen collected brown paper bags from the rear hatch. She felt a lump form in her throat. She knew she’d be dead already if she hadn’t happened upon the mismatched brothers, and here was another deadly man seemingly willing to help. She’d never believed in fate, unwilling to accept that one’s life path was predestined. Yet after watching her brother murdered, she had stumbled upon three warriors with not only the skills, but the fortitude to keep her alive. Andrea allowed her eyes to close in prayer. Maybe there was a chance, however slim, she would survive.
Tansen stormed through the door, his waddling walk accentuated by the armful of bags he carried. Danny gave her a smile and handed her a cardboard box. She turned it over in her hands.
“Sabre? What is this, a stun gun?”
“Just in case.”
The clothes were deposited on the wagon-wheel table. Andrea picked out a pair of jeans, a tartan blouse and a T-shirt. She took fresh underwear and socks from the packs and returned to the bathroom. Five minutes later she emerged looking and feeling like a changed person.
“They fit okay?” asked Danny.
“The waist’s a bit big, but they’re fine.” She turned to Tansen. “Where can I dump these?” She held her soiled garments in a loose bundle.
“Just put them next to the back door. I’ll toss them on the fire later.”
“What should I do with the rest of the clothes?”
Danny passed her a backpack, the store tags still in place. “Put anything you’re not wearing in here. Clay, there’s one for you too.”
As the Gunn brothers took turns in the bathroom to change into their new gear, Andrea tried booting up her battered MacBook. A crack ran diagonally from corner to corner across the screen. Given how much it had been through, she was amazed the laptop was even in one piece. After a short burst of whirring and several beeps, the screen flashed, then went black.
“Damn it!”
Tansen raised his eyebrows. “No good?”
“It’s toast. A technician could probably duplicate the hard drive, so it doesn’t mean everything’s gone, I just can’t get to it. When I get home…” She stopped herself. “It doesn’t matter. Everything important is in the Cloud.” She straightened her shoulders. “It’s just junk now. No point carrying it around. Do you have a computer I could use?”
“Sorry, I never had much use for one.”
Andrea nodded. “Could I use your phone? I need to let my parents know what’s happened.”
Tansen silently pointed to a wall-mounted phone. She rose and walked over, lifting the cordless handset clear. She looked back at her host. “Is there somewhere I can speak in private?”
“Sure.” Tansen led her to a bedroom. He closed the door as she began to dial the number.
Andrea waited nervously. What can I tell my parents? She was scared of choking on the awful words. The soft ringing began in her ear. Her stomach flipped. She allowed the phone to ring ten times before hanging up. A strange mixture of guilt and relief swept over her. She knew she’d have to speak to them, but was glad that the moment had been delayed. She sat on the bed and allowed her chin to drop, her hair hanging down over her face. Sobs racked her chest. Fatigue leached through her body, suddenly, unrelentingly. Andrea realised her eyes were closed, yet didn’t seem to have the strength to open them again. She curled up at the bottom of the bed like a child and let sleep take her.
16
“Mr Carter, I have Magson on line two for you.”
Topcat pressed the reply button on his intercom unit. “Put him through.”
Magson’s voice was raspy from thirty years of a twenty-a-day habit. “Top?”
“I believe the Nevada assignment has been compromised.”
“Compromised?”
“I’ve been unable to contact the team as expected.”
“Unable?”
“Jesus, Magson, are you just going to repeat random words back to me or are you going to get on this?”
“You want a second team on it?” His second-in-command coughed noisily down the phone, causing Carter to swear silently at the handset.
“Yes, I want a second team assigned and on the trail within the hour. Who else have we got in that neck of the woods?”
“We’ve got six in Los Angeles, just back from Pakistan. They’re all old hands. They’ll be good to go.”
“Who?” Carter asked curtly.
“You know them, Top, the Presidents.”
Carter smiled. He did indeed know the team well. He tapped the team name and individual tags into his computer and a set of six profiles appeared on screen. He studied the faces before him. Six men, all sharing a common feature. Their eyes spoke of an immeasurable yet controllable capacity for violence. Killers’ eyes. “Get Lincoln on the line. I want his team ready to roll ASAP.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Send the mission briefing to him. Give him a status report. Call me back when they’re moving.”
“Will do, Top.”
Carter studied the screen again. The short list of operator names blinked green. The green highlights told him that they were all live and active. A single click on each of the highlighted names would open their personnel files giving full names, military histories and contact details. But Carter knew most of the details already. He scanned the call signs and allowed himself a tight-lipped smile. He was confident that the Presidents would get the job done.
He considered the Apostles for a moment. The four-man team, if still operational, could assist the replacement team. That would give a mobile force of ten. Carter had witnessed fire teams of less raze entire villages during his time in Africa.
The six names continued to blink green. Lincoln. Washington. Bush. Clinton. Kennedy. Roosevelt. All were highly qualified. He moved the cursor and clicked on an icon showing the other team. The call signs of the Apostles appeared. The four names blinked green. Carter scowled slightly, considering. Would he have to close the file on Matthew, Mark, Luke and John? Only time would tell. If they were still alive and had dropped the ball, he would deliver some old-style biblical wrath himself.
Twenty minutes and another pot of coffee later, Magson confirmed that the Presidents had received and accepted the assignment. Thomas Carter, known to his teams as Topcat, allowed himself to smile fully for the first time that day.
17
Andrea’s scream tore through the house. Danny was the first through the bedroom door, his hair mussed from sleep but his
muscles coiled and ready to spring. Just as quickly he relaxed and waved at Clay and Tansen—who was wearing pyjama bottoms decorated with rodeo clowns—gesturing them to hold back. “She’s all right.”
Andrea was on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees. She rocked back and forth, tears fresh on her face.
“Oh, Jesus. It was all real.”
Danny sat on the floor next to her. “Are you okay?” He knew how inane the question sounded, yet had to ask.
“I was dreaming. But it was real.”
Danny looked into her eyes, trying to think of some comforting words. None came easy to him. “I—we—will make them pay.”
Andrea swallowed. It sounded like there was a lump in her throat big enough to choke her.
His voice was as sharp as flint as he repeated his words.
“Why would you? You don’t owe me anything. You don’t know anything about me. Why would you risk your life for a stranger?”
“I guess we all have to stand up on a train once in our lives.”
Andrea smiled weakly. “Yeah. Clay told me about that.”
She scrutinised him. Danny could guess what attracted her gaze—the scars around his eyebrows, old scars, like those of a boxer. She dropped her eyes. “Help me up?”
Danny stood and offered his hand. As she gained her feet, she reached out tentatively, her fingers stopping a fraction of an inch short of his face. “Danny…”
He pulled away gently. “Come on. You’ve been asleep for nearly fifteen hours. You need to catch up with the team. We shouldn’t have stayed this long but we thought you needed the rest. Hell, so did we.” He looked at his watch. “It’s nearly six a.m. Time to get moving.”
Andrea looked shocked. “Really? I feel like I’ve hardly closed my eyes.”
“That’s the effect of shock. Your mind just wants to shut down and block out all the bad shit.”
“I feel numb. Not just emotionally but bodily as well.” Andrea clenched and unclenched her hands several times as if trying to restore some feeling to her limbs.
“The worst thing about shock is it can sneak up on you when you’re least expecting it. You think you’re back to normal then realise you’re about to walk in front of a truck. It tends to shut down your perceptions.” He realised he sounded like he was speaking from experience. He was.