Risk

by Raquel Belle

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Jack

  That hurt…a lot. Both to do it and to endure the aftermath, but I’d rather have Deanna alive and hating me than loving me and dead. The sun’s coming up over the stream on the east side of the house. She would’ve loved the view.

  Stop it, Jack.

  If I get out of this alive I’ll apologize till I’m blue in the face, right now it’s time to compartmentalize and focus. I take another walk around the perimeter now that I’ve got some natural light and check all points of entrance and egress. The terrain works in my favor. I’ve got the high ground and there aren’t too many angles they can come at me from.

  Maybe Brenner will even surprise me and show up on his own like I told him to.

  I go inside to the office, Derrick has left the computer on for me. I slot the flash drive in and leave it there for a minute before I pull it out and pocket it. Depending on which direction they decided to leave in, I can expect him to arrive in an hour and a half maximum…or as soon as five to ten minutes.

  I go back to the kitchen and put the gun belt on with the two Glocks and extra magazines, then I lay out the rest of the weapons on the counter. One M16—scope attached, one M4 and one P90. Two concussion grenades and two frag grenades.

  I see myself in the full-length mirror Derrick has in the living room and let out a small laugh. The gun belt has a very cowboy look to it.

  I hide the P90 under the kitchen counter. I clip on one frag and one concussion grenade to my belt, then take the two rifles outside. I leave the M4 in a small crevice on the south wall. The south side of the area has a nice little ridge that’ll be perfect for picking off the first batch of targets.

  I take the M16 up the hill with me, find some cover with a good angle and get comfortable in the bushes.

  ***

  Deanna

  Through sheer anger, I managed to keep myself together for about two minutes before I broke down and curled up in a ball on the backseat.

  Fuck them and their orders.

  I’ve been heaving with sobs for the last twenty minutes. I did it quietly because I don’t want to look like an idiot. Charlotte and Derrick are…I don’t even know…they’re just fucking annoyingly stoic and don’t talk at all. Is this the chain of command? Just blindly obeying ludicrous orders?

  Am I the crazy one?

  No, I’m not.

  What the fuck are they doing? Why would they let Jack do this alone?

  He hasn’t eaten in so long, he must be hungry. Derrick didn’t even have any food there. The last thing I said to him was that I don’t love him, and now he’s hungry and alone, all by himself…

  I cry more, but I try to act like I’m sleeping and do it quietly.

  We’re headed to the airport.

  This is all wrong, we have to go back. This isn’t how it ends. I don’t even know how it ends but it’s not like this. He’s in danger. Something he can’t get out of. My abs are having a hell of a workout from all the crying. There’s a puddle of tears on my seat.

  I accidentally heave really loud and Charlotte turns around, “Deanna, are you okay?”

  I push her hand away.

  I hear her huff.

  I sit up and open my bag and check through all the pockets hoping there’re tissues inside…instead, I find Jack’s notebook.

  What the hell is this doing in here?

  I flip through it and there’s a page that’s dogeared. The account for the rest of the money.

  Why would he—

  He doesn’t think he’s coming back!

  No!

  That’s not how this ends.

  I have to do something.

  ***

  Jack

  I’m starting to get hungry, this asshole is taking forever.

  I’m just about to go back to the house when I hear a noise in the distance…an engine…but then it stops, just for a few seconds…then it starts up again. I hear it southwest of my position—he’s let someone out. I turn around and get on my back to face the same direction while fixing the silencer to the Glock.

  I wait for him, I know where he’s going to come out.

  Three minutes later, as a black SUV is pulling into the drive, a DPS man comes down through the bushes to my position.

  He’s startled when he sees me there and goes for the weapon slung over his back—a sniper rifle. I put one in his neck and one in his forehead. Thunk! Thunk! Spinal cord and brain—quietest takedown.

  He falls like a bag of potatoes. I’m sure no one heard that.

  I turn around to see who’s in the SUV. It’s Brenner…alone.

  The DPS guy dropped right next to me so I pull his radio and hit the talk button. “I said to come alone.”

  Brenner pushes the button on his own radio, “And now we are. Is he dead?”

  “Like disco.”

  I see him take an angry breath, “You said to come alone, we’re alone. He was the only guy I had with me. An insurance policy. A precaution. You didn’t do the same?”

  “No.”

  “You’re everyone’s boy scout, aren’t you, Jack? Well,” he laughs, turning slowly, looking for my position, “I know you didn’t actually go, but you’ve always been one in spirit, am I right? I suppose being blown up didn’t change your perspective on life. Always the hero. Always the good solider. I should have known you’d to stick to your word, just like you always do. You know…maybe I was just hoping you’d wised up and you’d surprise me this time.” All the talking is to buy time.

  “How many more?” I say.

  “I told you, he was the only one.”

  “I’m supposed to take your fucking word on that?”

  “Jack, honestly, thanks to your little speech on the intercom before…I had to do this solo as a matter of pride to restore the faith my men have in me.”

  I don’t say anything.

  Now he shouts, he doesn’t bother with the radio, “I told them that I’m going to beat you to death with my bare hands because you’re a pussy who didn’t deserve to lead me or anyone else under your command. You’re soft. Always have been. You don’t have what it takes. I’ve always been better than you and you know it. So, why don’t you come down here like a good little boy so I can ass rape you like the bitch you are and we can be done with this? You wanted to go? One on one? Let’s go!”

  “Your insults are like you’re in the fifth grade. Drop the vest, the sidearm and the knife and whatever else you’ve got…or I’ll put a hole between your eyes right now.”

  “Sure thing, cowboy,” I see him smile and begin to take off his armor and weapons.

  I can put him down right now…I should…but it doesn’t feel right. I’m not him. I’m not going to take the cheap shot—and he’s fucking counting on it.

  I give it thirty more seconds to see if there are any other surprises.

  Brenner shouts, “Well? Are we going to do this or not?”

  I clip the radio to my belt, remove the silencer so I can holster the Glock, then step out and make my way down the hill with my M16 scope trained on him. He spots me and smiles malevolently.

  “Let’s step into my office,” I say when I’m close. “And keep those hands where I can see them.” I point him to the door, “After you.”

  Once we’re inside I motion for him to sit on the couch. I can’t frisk him because I don’t have any backup. Getting close to a man with his training can go very wrong, very fast.

  “I thought we were here to fight, Jack,” he says, “you’re the one who’s so fucking sad that your loser friends are dead.”

  My blood starts to boil, I try to hold the feeling down, but I can’t. I smash him with butt of my rifle in his mouth. It’s a quick move and he doesn’t see it coming. It’s not too hard either, I still need him to talk.

  “Oof!” Brenner recoils and smiles through his split lip.

  “Sit!” I bark at him.

  He goes to the couch, “Nice one. Looks like you’ve still got some ball
s left. I heard you were wandering around like you were castrated after the yacht.”

  “I have some questions you’ll need to answer, that’s why you still have your teeth. You’ll get your beating after.”

  “Fair enough,” he smiles. He sits and makes himself comfortable.

  “When did you turn?” I ask. I sit on a stool at the kitchen counter. There’s a coffee table and a couch between us.

  “In Berlin,” he says, “after the operation I was approached by a man on the street. He handed me ten thousand dollars in an envelope and told me there was more where that came from. All I had to do was stay in touch with a burner.” The timeline matches up perfectly.

  “And you were informing on us since then?”

  “Yeah. It was easy,” he has an evil grin on his face, “you told me everything you didn’t tell everyone else…and the best part was that your dumb ass was so trusting, you didn’t suspect a thing.”

  “Why’d you sell us out, Brenner?”

  “Money.”

  “That’s it? Money?”

  “Easiest decision I ever made. We got tired of playing cat and mouse. Why spend all that time and effort moving an operation someplace else whenever Mockingbird got new intel? Ours was the only team on the case, much better to simply remove the four of you from the equation. In exchange I’d disappear as well and be presumed dead. I even offered to work for him for two years, to shore up his businesses and tactics so that he’d be truly untraceable. Then I’d take my money and retire. Free, clear and happy.”

  “Derrick cracked the drive,” I say, “sure is a lot a money. I’ve got it right here,” I pull out the drive, show it to him and put it back.

  He shoots his brow, “Wow, so he’s not that shitty after all.”

  “No, he’s not. Tell me what that money was doing inside the egg?”

  He looks around, “Got anything to eat?”

  “Sorry, no. Continue.” I put the M16 down on the counter.

  He shrugs. “Well, you seem to be quite informed, so I’ll skip the preliminaries and cut to the chase. I work for a man who remains unnamed. The Sheik does business with him. The Sheik and my guy wanted to stick it to Viktor. They’re rivals. I expect he’s the one who asked you to steal the egg. My last assignment, since my last stop was the States anyway, was to safeguard it. I didn’t know why he wanted me guarding it, but he’s not really the kind of man you question. Once it was bought and Viktor was humiliated, my employer would’ve told me where my money was. We didn’t get that far. I only got word once you stole the fucking thing.”

  “But why? Why did he hide it in the egg?”

  “He does shit like that. Turns out I was guarding my own money,” he laughs, mirthlessly. “My employer never meets anybody…simple as that…he’s a cautious man. And this is not something that you hand to a courier and expect them to be honest about. You can’t risk dropping it off with FedEx. Heck, it might get lost. Who knows? So, he disguised one thing as another thing. An egg for $20million has high enough security for transit when it’s being moved with even higher ticket items…but it’s a small enough amount to fly under the radar when you’ve got things for $50million on the card.” Brenner laughs again, “Two birds.”

  “Still, why not just do it electronically?”

  “Brokers keep records, if they were to be hacked it could be traced back to him. I told you, he’s a cautious man.”

  “So, the Sheik pays for whatever he’s buying from your guy, you get your payment…no one has to meet and no one is the wiser?”

  “That’s about the size of it,” His expression changes, “I could’ve come home clean as a daisy with $147million, created a new history, a new social security…the works. IRS can’t ask where I got it. The law won’t know what I had to do to get it. Untraceable legitimate money. I was even planning to run for senate, maybe start a political career…maybe run for president.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m sure the murderer would’ve gotten all the votes.”

  “And then you turned up.”

  “I have a habit of doing that,” I say.

  The look on his face changes. “Jack, I did some very bad things for some very scary people to get that money. I earned it. I deserve it. And I want what’s mine.”

  “So, you did all this for money…you killed your family for money? You took husbands away from their wives and children…for money?”

  Is this all it really comes down to?

  “Who gives a fuck? Money is a lot better than family!” Brenner shouts. “And that’s my money, and I want it. Fuck family! You’re not my family. I have no family. You have no family.”

  “Why, Brenner? Make me understand.”

  “Jack, for five years I took orders from you in S.O. And for three years before that too…from you…someone inferior, and to this day I don’t know why they chose you for that command instead of me. I’m better than you in every—”

  “They chose me because your psych-evaluation said that you were a borderline personality. I chose you because I vouched for you and said that you’d fall in line.”

  “That so?”

  “Yeah…and they were right…and I was wrong. I’ve known you my whole adult life and I never thought you would do this to me…to us. Sure, we all thought you were a little fucked in the head, but I really didn’t see this coming…not this. But I should have. It’s my fault.” I almost can’t bring myself to go on, but I do. “Brenner, if I’d known how things were going to turn out…I’d have put you down myself as an act of mercy a long time ago. Look what you’ve become. You’re a fucking sociopath. I can’t let you live. Not after what you’ve done.”

  He looks around like he’s thinking about the news I’ve dropped on him. He stands up, slowly, walks over to the glass sliding doors with his head down, then speaks.

  “You know, Jack, there’s no good or bad. No right and wrong. We all believe we’re the righteous ones. Every person we think is evil thinks they’re doing something good. We’re all motivated by our own desires. What a man can do and what he can’t are just labels society sticks on things in the hopes that it’ll keep them safe. At the heart of it, it all comes down to one thing—the strong versus the weak…and having the strength to take the things you want.”

  He points his finger at me like a gun and pulls the trigger.

  Fuck.

  I dive to the left and as I hit the ground I hear a bullet penetrate the glass door and strike the granite island in the kitchen, THACK!

  Sniper to the northeast corner, I didn’t factor that in. As I roll up I pull the Glock on my left, but Brenner is on me before I can take aim. He grabs it out of my hand with his right and lands a hard left on my chin. Then another. My head bounces off the floor.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” he says.

  I sweep his legs with my right foot and he drops on his ass, hard. The gun scatters. “Not as much as me.”

  I plant him with three quick right elbows in the solar-plexus, then he grabs my hand and tries to get me in an arm-bar. I roll over him and kick away before he can get it locked.

  I grab the other Glock on my right but before I’m up he kicks out my feet and I land hard. I try to aim. I can’t.

  He grabs the gun but I fire anyway. POP! POP! POP! As the third round fires the area between his thumb and forefinger gets caught in the ejection port.

  “FUCK!” He shouts. The gun is stuck on his hand, clamping his flesh.

  I push away from him because now my back is to the sliding doors.

  Fuck!

  The M16 is on the counter, the P90 behind it, and I’m scrambling to avoid the sniper. This is going to be a stalemate if I don’t act fast.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Deanna

  What the fuck do I do? Charlotte and Derrick are like robots. There’s no way I can reason with them. They aren’t going to turn around if I tell them what Jack did. They’re going to follow orders the way they’ve been taught. I have to do this on my own. It’s
the only way.

  “I’m hungry, can we stop for breakfast?” I say it in a way that might draw some sympathy…I hope.

  “They’ll probably have breakfast on the plane, Deanna,” Derrick says.

  “But what if they don’t? I’m hungry now. There’s a Denny’s coming up, it’s just about to open, we can eat there.”

  “Jack said not to stop till you guys were on the plane. There’s food at the Albuquerque Sunport.”

  “That’ll take too long. I’m really hungry and they don’t have a Denny’s there,” I squeeze Charlotte’s shoulder.

  “Fuck it,” she says, “I’m hungry too and airplane food is crap, let’s stop. We won’t be long. I like Denny’s.”

  “Alright, fine,” Derrick sighs.

  Yes!

  When we get there we’re the first ones in the parking lot because it isn’t 7am yet. We can see the staff opening up and getting things ready.

  “I don’t think they’ll mind letting us go in early,” I say.

  “Well, we can try,” Charlotte says.

  “Fine,” Derrick opens his door and we follow suit.

  We go to the entrance and rap on the glass. A sleepy looking busboy comes up and taps his watch. I put my hands together and give him a pleading look. He rubs his hands over his face like he’s clearing the sleep away, then opens the door. “The coffee is on, we can take your orders in ten minutes if you don’t mind the wait.”

  “We don’t mind,” I say, “thank you!” We all go in and sit at the first booth. “Coffee for everyone please.”

  Charlotte yawns and Derrick and I do it too. They say yawns are contagious. Mine isn’t. I do it to play along. While they’re distracted I leave $500 on my seat. That’ll keep them in business—just in case. Thank you, Lilly and Anton.

  I rub my shoulders and say, “I’m cold, can I get another layer from the car?”

  “Here,” Charlotte absentmindedly passes me the keys from Derrick’s side, she doesn’t even look up.

  “Back in a sec.” I grab the keys, go out the door and get into the Humvee.