Diesel (The Mavericks Book 13)

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Diesel (The Mavericks Book 13) Page 14

by Dale Mayer


  “Agreed, and we are quite a distance now from Shanghai.”

  “It would still be easier if we knew.”

  “But how to find out?” he said.

  “That’s always the problem, isn’t it? How long ago was it planted? How many days now?” he said. “It should have passed through her system, if she’d eaten it, swallowed it.”

  “And I don’t think she was given anything like that.”

  “Not to mention they took out the other two scientists. How did they know?”

  “Paul could have just been a simple case of being followed. It’s one of the reasons that we chose to get out of the lab as fast as we could, right?”

  “I know,” he said.

  “But Marge?”

  “Exactly. I just … It’s niggling in the back of my mind.”

  “Mine too,” he said. “I just wish there were a way to figure out if Eva had been given something.”

  “Do you have a magnet around?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t. Do you?” They both shook their heads.

  At that, she opened her eyes and stared up at them. “What would a magnet tell you?”

  “Possibly nothing,” he said. “Just wondering if a piece of metal were embedded in your skin, and, if you, … if we’re being tracked.”

  “God, that would be too much.” She stopped to think and said, “When I first woke up there, at the Chinese lab, I had pain at the back to my neck,” she said, reaching up under her hair.

  He immediately tilted her head forward and took a look. Found an ever-so-slight lump on the side. “Do you know how long it bothered you?”

  “No, more like just an irritant, like a bite.”

  He looked over at Jerricho. “You need to take a look at this.” He sat her up and said, “Let Jerricho look.”

  Jerricho walked over, and Diesel quickly hopped up and took over the piloting of the boat. Jerricho returned a moment later and nodded. “I’d take it out. If for no other reason that the military couldn’t find it on the ship, which means it’s new tech. Likely a prototype. So, if we have it, we can analyze it and combat it, before they start widespread use.”

  “Great,” he said. He walked back over, sat down, almost falling down at the uneven waves.

  She looked at him worriedly, having heard their conversation.

  “We have to be sure,” he said.

  She swallowed hard and then nodded.

  “See? That’s what I mean,” he said. “You’ve got grit, and you know what needs to be done, and you’ll let me do it.”

  “Do I have a choice?” she said, her tone dry.

  “No,” he said, “you really don’t.” He pulled a pocketknife from his boot.

  She looked at it and sighed. “It’d be nice if you could at least sterilize it.”

  He dipped it into the ocean. “If nothing else, it’s saltwater, and I know it’ll sting, but it won’t sting badly because I’ll make a very surface-level cut.”

  “Fine,” she said. She leaned forward, until she was right over him, her head lying on his thigh. “Go for it,” she muttered.

  He took one look, gently stretched out the skin, taut over the top of the small lump, and, with a clean slice, cut through it. She gasped, and he said, “I’ve already sliced.”

  “Good,” she said. “Can you get it out?”

  “Just stay still for a moment,” he said. And, using the tip of the knife, he dug ever-so-slightly and finally pulled out what looked like a tiny little ball, like a shot pellet. He looked at it, frowned, and then put it underneath her face, so that she saw it.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid it might have been tracking,” he said. “It’s definitely something man-made, and I presume you didn’t put it in there.”

  “No,” she said. She reached up a hand, and he pulled her hand down.

  “Just leave it. It needs to heal now. We don’t want your dirty fingers on it.”

  She wrinkled up her face. “Well, a bandage would be nice.”

  “Not happening,” he said, “at least not until we get to the ship.”

  She nodded, and he watched as a little drop of blood slowly worked its way down her neck. She reached up and wiped it clear.

  He said, “When we get to the ship, we’ll get it washed up properly.”

  “Fine,” she said, but she was still staring at the object in his hand. “It’s so tiny. Looks like pus from a pimple.” She shook her head. “Do you think they did that when I first arrived?”

  “You tell me. How long ago was it that you noticed it?”

  “I think right away,” she said. “I just didn’t think about it afterward.”

  “There was no need to,” he said. “For all I know, there’s a poison in it, and they can activate it and kill you before you actually get too far. But there’s no metal in it. I’m not sure what it’s made of. It was buried in your hairline and didn’t show up on any of the devices you were checked with. Even the navy’s top-of-the-line techno gear.”

  She swallowed hard, as she stared at him. “That’s a little disconcerting too.”

  “Terrorists, bioterrorists, all of this is terrifying,” he murmured, slowly wrapping up the tiny item in a tissue before stuffing it into his pocket. “That’s why we’re trying to rescue you.”

  She nodded. “Well, I’m glad you found it, even if it’s a day late.”

  “The farther away we are,” he said, “the less chance that they could have used it for anything.”

  “Well, I guess that’s a little more reassuring,” she said. She settled back down and reached up, scrubbed her face, and asked, “How much longer?”

  “About an hour,” Diesel said. “Do you want to try to sleep again?”

  She shook her head and then winced. “No,” she said. “Finding that just reminds me of what they did to me when I wasn’t awake.”

  “Of which you don’t know that they did anything other than this,” he said in a firm voice.

  She shot him a look.

  He shook his head. “I’m serious. Don’t go worrying about a bigger issue than we can deal with right now.”

  “I guess,” she said quietly. “It’s still disconcerting.”

  “Very,” he murmured. “Just relax.”

  She smiled. “If only it were that easy.”

  “I know, right? It’s like telling somebody who’s injured to just stop the pain. And, of course, it’s not something anybody can do,” he said. “I get that, but the bottom line is, you’re safe right now, and no technology in the world could have tracked this to where we are.”

  “So this was just a safekeeping measure?”

  “That’s exactly what it was,” he said.

  She nodded. “Good. At least there’s that reassurance.”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “Just stay calm, and let’s get to that ship. We can clean out your wound, and you’ll be fine.”

  Chapter 12

  Diesel was right. By the time they finally made it on board—what looked like a private yacht—and Eva was taken to the bathroom, where she had the wound cleaned and just a small little bandage put on it, she felt much better about the whole deal. She also got clean clothes and a hot shower, and, as she stepped out into the galley, she was escorted to a small dining room. As she took her seat at the table, right beside an empty chair, she looked over at Jerricho. “Where’s Diesel?”

  “Having a shower,” Jerricho said. “You want a glass of wine?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “We have wine?”

  He chuckled. “Absolutely,” he said. “We don’t have to live like heathens just because we’re on the run, so to speak.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring,” she said. She picked up her wineglass as she noticed a bottle in a big cooler. “Thank you.” He poured a glass for her. “What about Diesel? Will he have one?”

  “He might. He might want something stronger.”

  “Are we allowed something stronger?” she asked c
uriously. “Are we on the run again?”

  “Something stronger? Sure. On the run? I’m sure we will be again,” he said cheerfully. “But that doesn’t mean that we’ll be for the next couple hours.”

  “Right,” she nodded. “I wasn’t expecting you guys to drink on the job.”

  “Normally I wouldn’t,” he said, as he sniffed the aroma of the wine, “but I do like a good glass of wine. And one glass will never hurt.”

  “Agreed.” She picked up hers, clinked it together with his, and said, “Thank you. I don’t think I’ve actually thanked you. I have thanked Diesel many a time, but either you’re never quite around or I’m not thinking with my clear mind at the time.”

  “It’s all right,” Jerricho said, “and you’re welcome.”

  She smiled. “This is quite the job you guys have.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” he said, chuckling. “It’s not a job that most people are used to, but we’re uniquely qualified for it.”

  “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to do this too often,” she said.

  “Maybe not, but, when you see just how helpful we are in the world and how necessary this service is, you can understand.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got a question about that,” she said. “How are you paid?”

  “I didn’t ask for particulars. In your case,” he said, “we’re given a job, and we do the job. Money is never brought into it.”

  “Well, it would be nice to think the world operates that way,” she said, “but I don’t think it does.”

  “Well, some of it does,” Jerricho said. “Sometimes the world’s a nice easy place to be.”

  “Not always,” she said. “It seems to me that more people are after money than actually handing it out.”

  “Very true.” He swirled his wine and looked down at the glass and the beautiful red liquid in it and said, “You and Diesel seem to be getting along pretty well.”

  “We really are,” she said, “and that is a huge surprise. I haven’t had a relationship in quite a while. Haven’t been too bothered, buried myself in work. I didn’t find anybody I liked, and then, out of all this, he’s there.”

  “Good,” Jerricho said, “because Diesel’s in a similar scenario. It’s too easy to bury yourself in work and to forget about the fact that other parts of life are worth living.”

  “What about you?” she asked. “Are you married?”

  “Not right now,” he said. “I was.” He smiled and added, “I really liked being married, and I would certainly sign up for it again, if I found another woman who I cared for just as much.”

  “What happened?”

  “We married at eighteen,” he said, with a wry smile. “We were just kids. A kid in love with another kid. We couldn’t wait to be married, couldn’t wait to be together permanently, but we couldn’t make it last.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s sad.”

  “It is. I went into the military after that,” he said, “more as a way to stay occupied and to bury all the pain of the relationship.”

  “Do you still have any contact with her?”

  “No, I haven’t had any contact in a long time,” he said. “Why?”

  “Because it still seems like you’re affected.”

  “She was my first love,” he said, the corner of his lips kicking up. “We should be affected. We should always remember.”

  “I like that,” she said, “and I think you’re right. I just think so much of the world misses the point on a lot of it.”

  “I agree with you,” he said. “That doesn’t mean that it’s the same for me.”

  “If you met her again, would you be interested?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never had a chance to meet her again.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because the last time I heard, she was getting married.”

  “Ah!” she said. “That makes it a little different. And were you upset?”

  “Upset in the sense that we hadn’t made it work because I really like who she is,” he said, with a nod, “but not upset that she was getting married. I wanted her to be happy.”

  “Yes, but usually, when people say that, they want you to be happy with them,” she murmured.

  “Oh, very smart,” he said, lifting his glass at her. “That’s very true, but it wasn’t to be.”

  “Unless she’s no longer married,” she said.

  “Maybe, but again that would mean a whole different mind-set for her now.”

  “Aah,” she said, “and, therefore, maybe not one you’re interested in?”

  “No,” he said. “Where she’s been and what she’s done in the meantime wouldn’t have any impact.” He gave a one-arm shrug. “The same for myself, but we’re very different people than we were back then.”

  “But maybe that’s a good thing,” she said, with an eyebrow up. “I mean, if you really loved each other back then, and couldn’t make it work, maybe that’s because you weren’t old enough to make it work. Maybe you weren’t mature enough to do the work.”

  “I don’t know,” he said, staring down at his glass. “Maybe.”

  “That didn’t sound very positive.”

  “No,” he said, “it’s not that. It’s just there’s been a lot of time under the bridge. You can never go backward.”

  “You don’t have to,” she said gently. “Life isn’t about going backward. It’s about making today happen the way you want it to, based on the new set of ground rules that you have for yourself.”

  “You have done a lot of thinking about this, haven’t you?” he asked with a laugh.

  Just then Diesel joined them. “Aren’t you guys nice and cozy,” he said. “What’s all this heavy conversation? Wanna give me a clue? A little bit about it, not everything?”

  She looked up and smiled and said, “We’re discussing Jerricho’s love life.”

  He looked at Jerricho, looked at her, and said, “Wow, now that’s a great conversation.” He added, “I didn’t even know Jerricho had one.”

  “That’s because his heart’s still stuck with his ex-wife.”

  He looked over at Jerricho and said, “Really, man?”

  Jerricho just smiled and said, “Eva’s just taking it a little further than I would.” He shrugged. “Basically my first love was my wife, but we’ve been divorced a long time now.” He murmured, “At least twelve years.”

  “And is that something you want to go back to?”

  “I wouldn’t say that, but Eva’s the one who keeps harping on it.” And, at that, he said, “Here. Have a glass of wine, and let’s eat.”

  Diesel said, “I’m starved.”

  Eva watched as Diesel took his place beside her. She sniffed the air and said, “Wow, is that what a clean male smells like?”

  He burst out laughing. “Absolutely,” he said. “Didn’t have a chance to shower earlier.”

  “Oh, I know,” she said. “I’m the one who was tucked up against you all day.”

  He wrinkled his face. “Was it that bad?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “No, I’m just kidding.”

  He said, “You’re just a big tease.”

  “No,” she said, “I’m just letting Jerricho off the hook from a conversation that he doesn’t want to continue anymore.”

  At that, Jerricho looked at her and grinned. “You are very astute,” he said. “And you’ve given me lots to think about.”

  “Good enough,” she said. Then she turned to Diesel and said, “Now to you.”

  “To me for what?” Diesel asked. He lifted his glass, held it up to clink against hers, and said, “I thought we already decided that we would see each other when this was over.”

  At that, Jerricho laughed. “Wow,” he said, “nice and fast.”

  “Well, yes, on both cases,” she said. “I’m looking forward to getting back to normal.”

  “What is normal for you?” Jerricho asked curiously.

  She smil
ed, shrugged, and said, “Not a whole lot. Work, home, work, home. The occasional visit with my father. Even fewer with my brother.”

  “That doesn’t sound very awe-inspiring.”

  “Well, I made my work my life,” she said quietly. “And I’m only just now realizing that, as I did that, I was losing out on other aspects of life,” she added with a smile.

  “Sometimes it takes something like this to shake us up, to give us a chance to reevaluate, and to see what we want to do differently.”

  “And that appears to be exactly what’s happened,” she said. “So we’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

  “Good enough,” Diesel said. They ate their way through a wonderful dinner, provided by their host, who none of them had nor would meet. One staff member took care of their needs. And, when dinner was over, Diesel looked over at her and said, “Needs to be bedtime.”

  “Already?” she said. She looked around at the massive yacht amid a softly churning ocean. “It’s such a beautiful ship.”

  “It is, and we are guests, but we’re not necessarily welcome to wander.”

  “Aha,” she said. “So no sitting on the top deck to watch the sunset, right?”

  He tilted his head to the side and said, “You know that I can ask, but we’ve been more or less requested to stay confined to our quarters.”

  “In that case,” she said, “that’s what we’ll do.”

  As the staff member removed her plate, she looked up, smiled, and said, “Thank you. It was delicious.” He inclined his head but didn’t say a word.

  Diesel watched him as he carted everything onto a trolley and pushed the trolley from the room. He already knew the drill, but she hadn’t been in this situation before. Not that he had been exactly in one like this either though. He looked over at Jerricho. “Four-hour watches?”

  “Yes,” Jerricho said. “Can you take the first one?”

  “Sure. I’ve had more sleep than you.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Jerricho said, “but I could use some, being in the face of that wind all day. While piloting the ship is amazing, that wind just tuckers you out.”

  “I know,” he said, as he looked over at Eva. “Come on. We’ll go down to our quarters.”

  She stood, tossed back the last of her red wine, and said, “That should help me sleep.”

 

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