Ethan moved to the window and opened it as slowly and quietly as he could. Jack made a stirrup of his hands and Ethan used it to reach up and pull himself out. Feet braced on the windowsill, he leaned down and grabbed Jack’s hand, hauling him up. Jack scrambled through and looked around.
The wall of their building was plain and had no features they could use to climb, either up or down. Across the alleyway, however, was an open window. Ethan jumped first, tucking his legs up and rolling into the room, taking the thin cotton curtain with him. Jack made sure he was out of the way, then followed suit.
An old woman at a sewing machine, surrounded by piles of cut fabric, gaped at them.
Jack nodded. “Namaste. Can we get to the roof from here?”
She cocked a confused brow and he repeated it in Hindi. Then as if she had men fall through her window every day, she gave him precise directions up to the roof. Meanwhile, Ethan fixed the curtain and when it was done, said, “Thank you.”
“Shukriya,” Jack said and Ethan repeated it.
The woman stared after them as they left, then the sewing machine started up again.
This building was full of little businesses, one-room factories mostly churning out clothes that would be exported to first world countries and sold for a hundred times what these people were paid to make them. Nobody showed them much interest and they came out onto the roof within minutes.
Ethan crept up to the edge and scanned the ground. “The police are going in next door. We got out just in time.”
From the opposite side of the roof, it was just a short climb down to the next one. Then across a small gap to the one beyond. Eventually, they left the multistorey buildings behind and came to the sea of tin shacks and huts that made up vast portions of the slum. They were, also, far from the only people making their way across the joined rooves. It wasn’t a crowded thoroughfare, but they certainly didn’t stand out as they trotted carefully from one home to the next. At one point, they passed a massive tree growing up through the middle of someone’s roof. Five men sat under the shade of its branches, smoking and drinking. In the distance was a line of tall trees and not far beyond them, a row of white office buildings.
“It seems surreal,” Ethan said as they headed that way. “Such poverty right here, and just past those trees, that. It feels like there should be something bigger between them. Something to explain why there’s such a difference.”
Jack could only agree.
An hour later, they were walking out of the slums, across a railway track, and back into a more familiar world. A couple of blocks along, Ethan swiftly broke into a small hatchback, hotwired it and they joined the overwhelming amount of traffic.
“Where are we going?”
“We have to get out of the city, so head east.” Jack settled back in the seat and closed his eyes. “I’ll check in and get any updates.”
It took him a few minutes to get into the right headspace to slip sideways and call up the overlay of his implant. The past twenty-four hours hadn’t been exactly stress free and he was still worried that Ethan would try to ditch him again, so it took a bit to calm himself down. When he managed it though, the overlay showed several new files from the Office and several waiting messages.
Leaving the larger files for later, he read the messages first. Most were from Lydia, with brief updates on the political situation and further warnings to stay off the radar. Jack quickly sent through a few replies, confirmed another check in within a couple of hours and slid sideways back to full awareness.
“Did you have a destination in mind?” Ethan asked.
“Not exactly. We’ll get out of town and find somewhere to hole up for the day.”
It was nearly midday by the time they got out of Mumbai itself. They saw several police cars in that time but picked up no interest from them. Once finally away from the city, Jack turned them southward. Not long later, Ethan insisted they change cars, and Jack settled into the old SUV with a grimace as the seat sagged under him.
“Problem, Jack?”
“No. Just wondering at your choice of cars. This”—he gestured at the ripped upholstery and dirty floors—“isn’t your usual standard.”
“Stealing cars is too disruptive. However, when required, I prefer to take cars that won’t be deemed as worthy of police follow up. I also avoid newer models that have inbuilt GPS tracking that require disabling, which only slows down a quick getaway.”
Jack smirked. “So that’s your excuse for having the harem.”
“It is part of the reason, yes.” Ethan’s tone was mildly miffed.
“And you don’t have a car in India?”
“This is my first visit to India, actually.”
“What?” Jack gaped for a moment, then shook his head. “I thought you would have been everywhere. Ethan Blade, global terror.”
Ethan smacked his chest with the back of his hand. “Don’t forget, there were three of us under that name. I worked mostly Europe and North and South America. As did Two. Four and Nine were Africa. Seven was in South East Asia and the Antipodes. Ten is the Middle East and South Asia.”
Jack’s stomach swirled uneasily. “So he’s . . .?”
“Middle Eastern, we believe. None of the others knew where their birth countries were.”
The scenery passed in silence for several minutes, then Jack sighed and asked a potently dangerous question.
“Do you want to try to find your mother?”
Another long stretch of nothing but the car’s rattly engine. Ethan focused on the road ahead, hands tight around the steering wheel.
“We could start a search,” Jack said gently. “We have a general area to look in. And a name that has to be in some hospital records somewhere. I mean, it would take a while, but we could do it. If you wanted.”
After a moment, Ethan simply shook his head.
“Okay.” Jack squeezed his thigh. “Offer’s always there, though.”
They stopped in a small village at lunch time for food and fuel. Ethan hid under his hat and stayed in the car. Jack got them lunch and filled up the tank. They travelled a little further until they found a side road leading to a small patch of trees.
In the mild seclusion it gave them, Ethan got out and stretched, wincing as his shoulders popped.
“Sore from yesterday?” Jack asked.
“Hmm. A little.”
Jack made him sit on a grassy patch and got behind him to massage his shoulders and neck. Ethan moaned and melted into the touches, head tipping forward, giving Jack the endless temptation of his neck and hair.
Maybe Jack could convince Ethan to give up this dangerous quest. To go home with him and let the Office deal with the Cabal. He did understand Ethan’s driving need to punish those who’d caused him so much pain and trauma. For years after his mother’s death—in this very country—he’d been dedicated to doing what he could to make sure her killers were found and punished. It had hurt his relationship with his dad and turned the sibling rivalry between him and Meera into a cold war. Then when he’d finally had the chance to catch those responsible—or at least part of the organisation responsible—it had ended in one of the worst military losses in recent history. Still not having learned the lesson, Jack had moved onto his next target. The all-consuming need to hurt the CO who’d sent him and his squad into Jharkhand had been initially satisfied by smashing his face in, but it had taken Jack years to recover from that nightmare mission—and he knew now he would never be fully healed. The only lasting result from hitting his superior officer had been his discharge from the army.
None of that felt equal to a childhood of abuse, though, so Jack kept his opinions to himself. He knew he would be speaking from a selfish position. He just wanted Ethan safe. He wanted him happy and content. He wanted Ethan with him. He also knew he would get none of that until Ethan had satisfied himself with his vengeance. So he would keep Ethan as safe as he could while he did it. He would do it to make him happy. He would follow him anyw
here, just to be with him.
Ethan sighed as Jack’s hands worked magic on his sore shoulders. He had missed this type of contact. It was surprising how used to a kind, tender touch he’d become over such a short time. Possibly missed it more than the passion and sex. Missed the quiet moments like this, when it was just the two of them and nothing to worry about.
Except that there was something to worry about. They still had to be careful of the authorities, and there was still the Cabal. He’d worked too hard to get here, almost to the core of evil itself, to let it go now. It was a wonder that Jack hadn’t tried to talk him out of it. The help of the Office had been completely unexpected and only warily accepted. Good intentions or not, the Office was still part of a governing bureaucracy.
A soft kiss landed on the back of his neck and Ethan couldn’t help but smile. This softness was a facet of Jack that continually surprised him, in very good ways. That trek through the desert hadn’t shown Ethan this side of him. He hadn’t seen it until they’d been together in Singapore, where Jack had tended his injury, then lay down with him, not for sex, but for comfort and rest. They’d had four days together, and it wasn’t until the evening of day three that Jack had given in to Ethan’s seductions and taken him to bed for more than sleep or an incredibly thorough blowjob.
Just as the night before he’d stopped Ethan’s lust before it went too far. Jack had been angry, yes, still hurt from being left behind without a word, but there had also been concern for Ethan as well. He’d been correct. Ethan would have regretted sex, hating how he’d been so weak as to give in to his selfish desires, rather than be prepared for the enemy. He’d made so many stupid mistakes while Two had been in Sydney, he couldn’t afford any more.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?” He rapid-fired kisses up and down Ethan’s neck, his hands now more caressing than therapeutic.
“I assume there is a larger plan in the works. You said the Office was working to help me, after all.”
Jack stopped kissing him and, with a sigh, rested his chin on Ethan’s shoulder. “We have things in play. Our analysts and technicians took the information we gathered from each of your kills and extrapolated with regards to current political and economic models and, at last count, pinpointed a hundred and thirty odd candidates for the Cabal leadership.”
Ethan’s jaw dropped. Then he pulled away from Jack and turned around to face him. “Truly?”
“Truly.” Jack mimicked. “See, we’re good for something.”
Leaning in and lowering his voice suggestively, Ethan said, “Good for many things.” He kissed him, slow and lingering.
Jack was smiling when Ethan pulled back but lost it when he continued. “With each new body, we narrowed it down even more. When we worked out you were going after Jäger, that gave us seven likely suspects.” He took a deep breath. “Three of whom happen to be here, in India, right now.”
This was . . . it was . . . Ethan didn’t know what he felt as those words sank in. Didn’t know if he felt anything at all. Should it be relief at knowing he was closer than he’d believed? Rage at the people ultimately responsible for tearing him apart as a child? Gratitude that he wasn’t on his own anymore?
“Do you know where they are?” He tried not to sound too eager.
“No. We just know they all came into the country within the last week. One through Mumbai, one through Chennai, and another through New Delhi. After that, they haven’t been on anyone’s radar.”
“Who are they?”
Jack closed his eyes and, clearly reading from his implant, said, “Yanis Mylonas, Poseidon Shipping Company. Osamu Sakamoto, Sakamoto Industries. Karyna Seaver, Seaver-Randal Incorporated. They’re all up there in the top one hundred richest in the world, but they’re not the big names. It could just mean that they’re not reporting their true wealth to keep a low profile, but between them, they have connections to over a quarter of the world’s economic and political spheres.” Opening his eyes, he added, “They seemed like they fit the requirements for megalomaniacal super-dick.”
The corner of Ethan’s mouth turned up. Trust Jack to sum the Cabal up so eloquently.
“I have heard of Seaver and Sakamoto in conjunction with Cabal interests, but not Mylonas. I’ve never heard of him before.”
Jack looked away for a moment, then down at his lap, and said very quietly, “He was a business partner of Stefanos Moraitis. He, ah, profited a great deal off Moraitis’s death.”
He knew. Jack knew about Moraitis. Ethan locked down the surge of conflicting emotions—fear, anger, shame, relief. He’d known the Office, and by natural extension Jack, would learn of it when they began truly digging into his history. That’s what it was. History. It meant nothing now.
“Then yes.” Ethan heard the distance in his own voice. “He is a likely candidate for a member of the Cabal’s leadership.”
“Ethan.” The word was filled with concern.
“I assume the Office is working to track all three of them down?”
Jack eyed him worriedly, then sighed and nodded. “Yeah, of course. In fact, I should probably check to see if they’ve sent any good news.”
Ethan stood, brushed off his arse, and said, “I’ll keep watch while you do.” Without waiting for Jack to agree, he turned and walked a tight perimeter around him and the car. When he came back to Jack, his man was lying on his back, eyes closed, and a certain absence to his body that meant he was deep in his implant.
Unable to resist, Ethan crouched and brushed black curls off Jack’s forehead. It was something so simple, something few people probably thought much of at all. But for him, it was a privilege to touch Jack like this, to be able to make such a small yet intimate motion. Such a small thing, but so profound.
Perhaps he shouldn’t insist on following through with his ultimate goal. Jack was here now and reminding Ethan of what he had. Not just Jack himself, but a life he’d been slowly but surely learning how to live on his own. A life not ruled by the Cabal.
A life none of his siblings had ever had a chance at.
That’s what he was fighting for. Why the Cabal had to end, one way or another.
Jack opened his eyes and, instead of startling at how close Ethan was, smiled. “Is this keeping watch?”
“It is,” Ethan whispered. “On the most important thing to me.”
Smile fading, Jack seemed to wrestle with several different reactions, finally settling on, “I’d fuck you right now, right here, if I thought you’d say yes.”
Ethan was straddling him so fast he felt lightheaded. Or maybe that was because he was then leaning down and kissing Jack like he was the only source of oxygen in the world. When he stopped, he said, “I’d let you, if I thought I’d say yes, as well.”
Jack laughed and pulled him down into a tight embrace that swiftly turned into a definite cuddle.
Before he could decide this was worth more than revenge, Ethan broke Jack’s hold and sat up. That was as far as he got though, sitting back on Jack’s thighs, only their hands still locked together.
“Do you have good news from home?”
Instantly serious, Jack nodded. “There’s been a little breakthrough. I sent the details of the Lambo we chased to the Office. It’s only a lease, so we can’t trace an owner, but we did manage to hack its GPS tracker and find it.”
Ethan squeezed Jack’s hands. “Where?”
“It’s in Goa, further south down the coast. It’s about a ten-hour drive. We could get there before midnight.”
“We’ll have to change cars again soon.” Still holding his hands, Ethan stood and hauled Jack up as well. “You can tell me everything else while we look for something suitable.”
With a grumble that sounded less real than usual, Jack said, “And a map. If we can’t file share via implant, then we’ll need another way to plan. Why did you kill your implant anyway? To stop them from tracking you?”
“No.” Ethan let Jack’s hands go and dug in his pocket for the car ke
ys. “The Cabal didn’t give us that option, for obvious reasons. Mine died in the EMP blast I set off to crash the chopper with Four and Ten in it.”
Jack blinked slowly, then again. “You what?”
“I had to do something to end the fight with Ten before he got the upper hand on me. Here, you drive and I’ll look out for a new car for us.” He dropped the keys into Jack’s hand and turned to get into the passenger side.
“You what?” Jack said again, staring after him. “You crashed a chopper to win a fight? With yourself in it?”
“It seemed to be the most expedient way of winning.”
“Jesus.” Jack got behind the wheel and started the SUV.
Instead of heading south toward Goa, they went east until Ethan found a suitable car. Jack dropped him off a small distance away and then ditched the SUV in the next town along. An hour after they’d parted, Ethan picked Jack up off the side of the road in an old, boxy Maruti 800 from the eighties.
Ethan drove so Jack could check his messages again, reporting the updates to Ethan.
The Lamborghini Huracán was located in a house isolated on top of a hill near the coast. There was only one road leading up to the large house, winding around the hill in an almost continual spiral.
“It belongs to Mahavir Balakrishnan,” Jack recited. “He’s the tenth richest person in India, though that may be a conservative number if he’s associated with the Cabal and hiding his true worth. Inherited the family business when he was forty-seven and managed to increase their profit margins when he introduced full automation into their pharmaceutical production. The automation systems were designed and built by Sakamoto Industries.”
Ethan nodded. “He’s part of the Cabal then. Was he one of your candidates for the leadership?”
“We noted him but he didn’t have the wealth or global connections the others do. He’s right down the bottom of the long list.”
“It makes sense they’d use him as a connection then.”
“Yeah. But remember, this is pretty much conjecture at this point. We’re only going on the word that Ten said he was taking Jäger to the Cabal leaders. He could have been lying. This could be a trap.”
When Death Frees the Devil Page 21