Soldier for Hire

by Kimberly Van Meter

  “We appreciate your help in this. I know it’s asking a lot,” Zak said.

  Conrad drew a deep breath, moving into no-bullshit mode. “Look, I’m going to be straight with you. Scarlett has made a name for herself here with Red Wolf and I couldn’t be more proud but I gotta say, this whole situation with your buddy makes me nervous. I’ve never known Scarlett to act impulsively or rashly and running off with a federal fugitive isn’t something I’d ever say she’d do. Understand where I’m coming from?”

  Zak nodded. “You’re worried that Scarlett is acting out of character and this might blow up in her face,” he said.

  “Exactly. So what can you tell me about your boy that will make me breathe a little easier?”

  CJ and Zak exchanged glances before Zak spoke up. “All I can say is, if Scarlett believes that Xander is innocent, we believe it, too. In our line of work, there’s no room for second-guessing. We have to trust our TL with our lives and we do. She’s earned that respect because she’s smart, capable and her gut instinct is almost scary. Just as she trusts you, we trust you. Same goes for Xander.”

  “But what if she’s wrong?” Conrad asked, still wary. “I don’t want to see my friend get burned over this.”

  “She won’t.” Zak’s faith was unwavering. “Xander is innocent.”

  When Conrad saw that there was little room for doubt, his fears seemed to lessen. He nodded, accepting Zak’s answer before launching into the true reason for the face-to-face. “The information I have is sensitive and I didn’t trust the phones, even a burner, so I wanted to come personally.”

  “Yeah, the FBI has everyone on speaker phone in some room,” CJ quipped with a shit-eating grin, then quickly sobered to add, “No, seriously, that’s not just an urban legend, right?”

  Conrad smiled but revealed nothing. They all knew the score. The FBI had stopped pretending it wasn’t true and the American people, for the most part, had accepted this new reality and made funny memes about it.

  “Have you heard from Scarlett?” Conrad asked.

  Zak answered, “Briefly. She gave us some leads to run down but nothing really tripped an alarm.”

  “What names?”

  “Carl Sheffton, Gary Williams and Lana Holbert.”

  “Sheffton and Williams are senators. Sheffton was only recently installed at the governor’s discretion after McQuarry died. I don’t recognize Holbert.”

  “Holbert was the mistress,” Zak said. “Young, pretty and ambitious—the usual sort you can find hanging around morally weak politicians.”

  “I’ve yet to meet a politician who wasn’t morally weak but people always seem to mix up morals with politics. I guess you don’t need to be a faithful husband to pass good policy.”

  Zak agreed. “So Holbert was a dead end. She’s nothing but a skirt looking to cash in while she could and after digging into her financials, she seemed to do pretty well by McQuarry.”

  “How well?”

  Zak looked to CJ. “About how much would you say?”

  CJ shrugged. “About fifty thousand, give or take a few thousand and that’s not including the gifts and trips.”

  Conrad chuckled ruefully. “Ever get the feeling we’re in the wrong business?”

  “I’d say you can’t put a price on dignity but I think I could sell mine for a few million,” CJ said with a grin.

  Conrad shifted in his chair, thinking out loud. “All right, so Holbert was a dead end. What about Sheffton and Williams?”

  “Williams and McQuarry were Oklahoma senators in the middle of their terms. They were conservative but Williams seems sympathetic to some environmental concerns as he immediately put the brakes on the Wakefield deal that McQuarry had been pushing,” Zak said, sending a file toward Conrad. “If I were just looking to motive, I’d say Williams had the most to gain by McQuarry’s death.”

  “Sheffton backed Williams’s decision to kill the Wakefield deal, so at the very least Sheffton deserves a second look,” CJ added, to which Zak nodded.

  “And you told Scarlett this?”

  “I haven’t yet,” Zak said. “I was planning to call her tonight.”

  Conrad took a moment to thumb through the file, then sighed with an expression that promised bad news. “I’ve run out of time. I can’t stall much longer. Platt is riding my ass like I’m a thoroughbred and he’s pushing for the Winner’s Circle at the Kentucky Derby. There’s not much more I can do to keep the FBI from running down your man.”

  “Why’s he so hot for this case?”

  “Prestige? I don’t know. Seems personal, honestly, but I have no idea the pressure that’s being put on Platt from above,” Conrad said. “He has been acting off, though.”

  “How so?” Zak asked.

  “Hard to explain. Platt’s never been a people person but lately he’s been worse than ever. Like he went from overall general asshole to Grade-A, top-tier asshole.”

  “Does he know Xander? Xander seems to have that effect on people,” Zak said.

  Conrad shook his head. “Not that I’m aware. My honest assessment is that Platt is getting squeezed by his boss and you know that saying, shit rolls downhill. Everyone wants this case to go away. Your man is good for the crime and no one seems interested in finding a different fit.”

  “Even if he’s innocent?” CJ asked, bristling. “Whatever happened to due process? Xander Scott is an American hero. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

  “It should,” Conrad agreed. “But it doesn’t. Not in this case. I’ve never seen Platt so hungry for someone’s head.”

  CJ said, “We know why we’re doing this, but why are you going out on a limb for a guy you’ve never met?”

  Conrad answered honestly. “I’m not doing this for Scott. I’m doing this for Scarlett. I have no idea if your man is guilty or innocent and I’m not sure I care, but Scarlett seems to believe in the guy and I believe in Scarlett so I’ll do what I can.”

  “Fair enough.” Zak accepted Conrad’s blunt answer. He appreciated his forthright manner and could see why Scarlett trusted him. “We’ll take whatever help we can get.”

  Conrad rose and shook hands with both men. “Good luck,” he said, shaking his head. “Your man is going to need it.”

  Zak had a feeling so would Scarlett.

  * * *

  The sexual tension between Scarlett and Xander was enough to choke an elephant but she couldn’t bring herself to act on any impulse when there were too many questions swirling in her head.

  Today, they were heading out to talk with Senator Williams to see why he put the kibosh on the Wakefield deal and to feel out if there were any sketchy vibes that warranted further investigation.

  But Xander was on edge. She could feel the negative energy coming off him in waves, so much so that she made him pull over before they got to Williams’s office.

  “We can’t walk in there with you acting like a pissed-off criminal. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing, I’m just stressed out. Our leads have turned up squat so far and I’m running out of time to prove that I didn’t kill McQuarry.”

  “Calm down,” Scarlett ordered, sliding easily into TL mode. “Get your shit straight. It doesn’t matter the odds. We have our mission and we execute. Got it?”

  Xander caught her gaze and held it. The odd tension coming off him was disconcerting. Clearly, he was too close to the situation to think objectively—but she wasn’t about to let him do anything stupid. Not when her ass was on the line, too.

  “And if Williams turns up a dead end, too?”

  “Then we move onto the next lead and we keep doing that until we run out of options.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he growled, squeezing the steering wheel hard enough to make a squeaking noise. He scratched behind his ear with a quick, agitated motion. “Maybe I ought to hang back,
let you take point on this one. What if Williams recognizes me?”

  “And what will you do while I’m talking to Williams?”

  “I don’t know, maybe see what I can dredge up on Wakefield.”

  Scarlett nodded. Maybe Xander was right and he ought to hang back. It was possible Williams might recognize him or have contacts close enough to the FBI that he’d know Xander was on the most wanted list.

  But that nagging sense that Xander wasn’t being completely honest still chewed on her hide. “Are you sure that’s it?” she asked.

  “Stop, Scarlett,” he demanded, causing her hackles to rise. “I need you to stop picking at me. I’ve got enough on my plate, and I don’t need you looking for more reasons to psychoanalyze me.”

  The urge to smash her elbow into his nose was strong but she held it back. “Fine. You chase down Wakefield. You can drop me off at Williams’s office and I’ll catch a cab back to the motel.”

  He didn’t argue. The tense silence between them didn’t let up, not even when he dropped her off and drove away.

  She had a bad feeling about whatever Xander was hiding. Before she headed into Williams’s office, she called Zak.

  “Just the person I was about to call,” Zak said as he picked up. “I have bad news.”

  She ignored that for a minute. “I need you to chase something down for me,” she said. “I need you to find out if Xander is a patient of a Dr. Yarrow at Crossroads Medical Services.”

  “Why?” Zak’s confusion wasn’t surprising. “What’s that got to do with the case?”

  “Just do it. I need to know when he last saw the doctor and what he was prescribed and why. Screw doctor-patient confidentiality...find a way to get him to talk.”

  “Okay,” Zak said, unsure but willing to do as he was asked. “Are you ready for my news?”

  “Yeah, hit me.”

  “Your friend Conrad was here. He said his boss is hungry for Scott’s head and he can’t hold back the FBI any longer. They’re going to start using the big guns to track Scott down, which means if you’re around when they do...you’re going to get caught in the snare, too.”

  “Yeah, Conrad already told me that. Anything else?”

  “You’re handling the news that you’re about to be chased like a rabbit pretty well.”

  “It is what it is. We knew it was going to happen at some point.”

  “Got any leads?” Zak asked, hopeful. “I mean, surely someone’s got to have something to go on?”

  “Our leads have turned out to be flimsy at best. Honestly, I’m starting to sweat. How could there be so little to find?” Scarlett asked, allowing some of her worry to come through her voice. She trusted Zak, which was more than she could say for Xander. Hell, what a fine mess. “Have you found anything on Wakefield?”

  “I have a contact name and number,” he said. “I’ll send it to your phone.”

  “Good. With some luck, maybe something will pop up. I’m running out of ideas.”

  “Something will happen. There’s no such thing as a perfect crime,” Zak assured her. “Someone left behind a clue.”

  “Yeah, but finding that clue in the time we have left... I don’t want to be a pessimist but I’m not feeling too good about our chances.”

  “Look, you keep doing what you’re doing. We’ll do what we can on our end. You and I both know that Xander didn’t set that bomb. He’s being framed. Just hold on to that fact and let your gut guide you.”

  Scarlett nodded, appreciating Zak’s solid advice. Usually, she was the one propping up the team, holding them together when things got dicey, but she was grateful her team was smart enough to pick up the job when she faltered. Zak’s faith renewed hers. “You’re right. Someone had to leave behind something. I just need to find it.”

  “That’s the TL I know. Remember with the FBI mobilizing, they’re going to be flagging credit cards and using all the surveillance available to them—traffic cams, satellite footage, whatever they can get their hands on, especially if they’ve been given the green light to use any resource.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she said grimly. “Well, we’re not using our cards. Xander is using cash. For once his paranoia has been a blessing.”

  “Well, that doesn’t do anything for the camera footage. Be aware of your surroundings, maybe get a disguise.”

  “I’ve always wanted to try out blond,” she said.

  “Now’s your chance.”

  “I’ll be in touch.” Scarlett clicked off and headed into Williams’s office building.

  Time to see if she was any good at spewing bullshit.

  * * *

  Get it together.

  Xander clenched his fists in frustration when they wouldn’t stop shaking. With Scarlett around, he’d tried to limit the pills he was taking but the sudden decrease in dosage was messing with him in a bad way.

  At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to hide his problem from Scarlett much longer and that made him sweat even harder.

  The obvious solution was also the most unsavory—replenish his supply on the DL and hope that Scarlett didn’t notice.

  Fat chance of that. Scarlett had eagle eyes. She already knew something wasn’t right and he felt like a prick for blatantly lying to her.

  But he didn’t have time to deal with that issue right now. Time to triage the priority list. He needed to find a dealer in the city and take his chances with a scumbag he didn’t know.

  Yay. Being a drug addict was fun, said no one ever.

  But all cities were the same. When you had a problem like this, you learned how to recognize the signs that led to what you were looking for.

  His preference was a white-collar-trust-fund brat who sold pharmaceuticals on the side, but he didn’t have time to hang around a college campus or trendy bar so he’d have to go for the low-hanging fruit, which meant the seedy part of town.

  A quick look at a map on his phone revealed some options within a short enough driving radius.

  He slowly cruised the streets, his gaze peeled for the telltale signs of a drug dealer waiting to snag someone looking to score.

  Xander felt dirty all over but he didn’t have the luxury of dignity, not with the clock ticking and his detox in full swing.

  His stomach was already starting to rebel, threatening to unload the coffee he’d downed that morning.

  After about fifteen minutes, he saw someone with potential.

  Xander parked down a side street and jogged over to the young man slouched against the brownstone stairwell.

  The kid had shifty shark eyes, a lanky build and a jaded vibe about him that said he’d seen too much, too soon, which had taught him life was about the hustle.

  Yeah, he’d do.

  “You lost?” the kid asked, sizing him up as quickly as Xander had sized him. “Or are you a cop?”

  “Not a cop. Far from it. You carrying?” he asked.

  “Carrying what?”

  Xander didn’t have time to play this game. “I’m looking for Oxy. You got some?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Xander gritted his teeth and pulled a wad of cash. “This jog your memory?”

  The slow spread of the kid’s smile told him it did. “How much you need, big man?” he asked, coy. “You got more of that kind of wad in your pocket?”

  “I got enough to buy if you’ve got some.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got some. Quality stuff, too.”

  “I want the real deal, not some cooked-up generic that some amateur whipped up in his kitchen.”

  “Cool your jets. I got you,” the kid assured Xander. “But I don’t have it here. That kind of product I keep elsewhere. You gotta follow me.”

  No, that wasn’t going to happen. He shook his head. “No, I’ll wait here. You get the meds and bring it to me
.”

  “That ain’t how it works,” the kid said. “Either you want the product or not. No sweat off my balls if you don’t get your fix and by the looks of you...shit’s about to get real ugly, fast.”

  Xander pressed his lips, hating that his addiction was showing so easily. He could feel the sweat on his skin and he could imagine how pasty and pale he was starting to look as his body fought against the detox. He grabbed the kid by the shirt and yanked him up. “Look, I don’t have time for your thug-life crap. I know you think you’re gonna roll me for my wad but that ain’t happening. If you think you and your crew can take me on, you’re mistaken. I take bigger shits than you on the daily and I’ll wipe my ass with your face if you try anything. You feelin’ me?” Xander released the kid with a jerk. “Now, go get the damn Oxy and bring it to me.”

  The kid shook off Xander’s touch and straightened his shirt with a scowl. “Calm yourself, bro. I ain’t trying no shit. This place crawls with cops. I gotta protect myself.”

  “Sure you do,” Xander responded, jerking his head. “Go.”

  The kid scuttled off, leaving Xander alone to face the curious stares and hostile vibe from the locals. Every city had their cast of characters and it was getting too easy to pick out the ones up to no good. That probably included him.

  He was a damn hypocrite. If Scarlett could see him right now—twitchy, sweating like a pig, ready to throw up—yeah, real attractive.

  Xander leaned against the stairwell, staying sharp, even though it was an effort to keep from putting a bullet in his own head just to stop the merry-go-round he’d unwittingly hopped onto.

  It’s funny how people lied to themselves, saying they had a handle on things when they really didn’t, and then something happened, bringing everything into sharp focus, but it was too late to fix the problem.

  Yeah, that was drug addiction.

  He’d watched plenty of buddies lose their shit to cocaine and heroin but he never really thought about prescription meds becoming a problem.

  Wellll hello, problem.

  The day of the bombing, his back had been jacked up from the plane ride. Usually they had a day to recover from travel but not that day. It was supposed to be an easy detail so it made sense to get in, do the job, leave.