by L. T. Ryan
The engine choked and sputtered and shut off. The low rumble slowly faded away in my ears. When it dissipated, all that was left was a vacuum of air, like we were in the middle of a void.
Linus's door opened. Boots hit the ground, crunched on rocks. My door swung opened. Someone racked the slide of a rifle.
"You hear that?" Linus said.
"Yeah," I uttered through the burlap sack.
"One wrong move, do one thing different than I say, and that bullet is going through your damn head. Got it?"
I sucked in a warm breath of stale air. Pain pulsed throughout my body. "Yeah, I got it. One question, though."
Linus laughed. "I thought you said you got it, man."
"I do. I just have a question."
"What?" He spat. It thudded against the ground.
"Got some whiskey?"
He laughed again. "Yeah, man, I got some whiskey inside."
"Inside where?"
He fumbled with the cord around the sack, then lifted it off my head. Sunlight knifed through my eyes and felt as though it cut into my brain. I recoiled against the sensation, drawing yet another laugh from the skinny man. Once I had adjusted, I stared outside at a whole lot of nothing. An expansive field stretched as far as I could see.
"Where are the others?" I asked.
"Don't you worry about that," he said. "Just so long as you understand I'm not the only one with eyes on you at this moment. You might be able to get away with taking me down, but you won't make it far."
He backed up a few steps.
"Go on, man," he said. "Get out."
I felt like a damn worm, wriggling and turning, angling myself so I'd fall on my shoulder and not my head. All the effort I put into it didn't matter. As soon as I was close enough for gravity to take over, that son of a bitch grabbed hold of me and accelerated the process. I crashed on top of my head, and rolled through as clumsily as possible.
Linus laughed for a few seconds before kicking me over. He cut the ankle tie, then he reached down, grabbed my wrists and started dragging forward. For such a skinny guy, he was a helluva lot stronger than he looked. I scrambled to make my legs work. As soon as I managed to upright myself, Linus let go and dropped back, keeping a good six feet between us.
"You so much as look back at me again and I'm gonna give you another hole," he said.
I didn't believe him. If they were going to kill me, they'd have done so already. Someone wanted me here, and that someone wasn't going to allow me to die until after they met me. Still, there was no point in taking any more of a beating.
The only structure in sight was about a half-mile down the dirt path. The rest of the landscape was barren, save for some fencing and cattle off in the distance. Warm wind swept in from the west, carrying with it a fine layer of dirt and the smell of manure. I adjusted to both at around the halfway mark of our trek. The black curtains along the edge of my vision lifted as we walked. Good thing, too. I figured that meant the swelling in my brain was diminishing. Though my limbs and chest ached, nothing seemed to be broken. If anything, a rib or two, but that wouldn't stop me if I got the chance to take someone down.
We reached the unassuming weathered cabin. A twelve-by-eight covered porch offered some shade from the glaring sun. The structure trapped the wind. It circled my body, cooling my aching muscles.
"Wait here." Linus entered the house and shut the door behind him.
I glanced around. There was nowhere to hide. They'd have a clear view of me if I ran. And if Linus was a decent shot, I'd be dead. So I waited there, leaning against a post, letting the breeze work its magic.
The door opened. The voice that followed belonged to someone other than Linus. It was heavy, southern, mature.
"Let's get one thing straight here," he said. "You're probably not going to survive this, Mr. Noble."
Chapter 29
How the hell did they know my name? Every inch of my body tensed at the possible implications. They had Reese. There was no doubt about it. They had her too, and had managed to get my name out of her. How badly had they tortured her for it? No matter how pissed she was about this morning, she wouldn't offer it up easily.
"I often wondered if I'd see you again," the man said.
I hadn't looked back at him, instead keeping my focus on the truck, shimmering in the heat a half-mile away. See me again? There was something about the guy. Maybe I'd known him in the past. "Aren't you the least bit curious?" he said. "Go on, Mr. Noble. Turn around."
I steeled myself for the worst and forced my body off the post and turned. Would he be holding a gun to Reese's head? Perhaps only a gun aimed at me? The latter I could handle. The former might send me over the edge.
I stared Darrow in the eye, offered no reaction to his presence.
"Don't recognize me?" His lips drew thin and stretched downward. His eyes narrowed. Had I disappointed him?
I said nothing.
"I guess it was a long time ago," he said. "You see, we have a similar background, you and I."
"Were you one of the bastards involved in planning my missions?"
He smiled. "No, I got out before that. But I know all about you and what you've done for this country. The good...and the bad." He gestured with his head to move inside.
I shuffled toward him, keeping eye contact until I had passed. The room was dim, dusty, smelled like mold. The door clicked shut behind me, sealing me off from the wind gusts. I strained to see who else was in there while my eyes adjusted to the low level of light. Linus leaned against the back wall. I didn't see Reese, or anyone else. I turned to face Darrow.
"So who are you?" I said. "How do you know me?"
"You're the spitting image of your father at this age."
"You served with my old man?"
He nodded.
"How'd you turn out to be this big of an asshole?"
The man laughed. "Got the old man's sense of humor, too."
"I suppose."
He drew in a deep breath, crossed his arms, leaned back against the wall. "Yeah, I served with him. Against him at times, too."
"Got a name?"
He nodded.
"Gonna tell me? I mean, you were able to pick me out of a lineup, but I have no idea who you are."
"Name's Darrow."
I narrowed my gaze. "Everyone in this town seems pretty scared of you, Darrow. Why is that?"
He shrugged. "Got me. As you can see, I'm quite hospitable."
"Yeah, you're a regular Rockefeller as far as I can tell."
He smiled, winked. "That wit, Noble. Let me tell you, it's going to get you killed one day."
"Yeah? How soon?"
"Sooner than you think if you keep it up."
I called his bluff. "If you wanted me dead, I'd be dead already."
His smile faded. He said nothing.
"What am I doing out here?" I said.
"That's what I'm wondering," he said. "How the hell did Jack Noble end up in my little corner of Texas?"
"Chance and coincidence."
"I don't believe in either."
"Hate to disappoint you, but that's all it is."
He uncrossed his arms, took a couple steps toward me. "I tend to think there's a reason behind everything. And, as you might have guessed or become aware of, I've got a few things going for me here. All above water, I might add. So when someone who's worked in a clandestine agency known for breaking the rules shows up in my town, I get a little concerned. I start wondering which of my enemies might still want to take me down. I start connecting dots." He waved his hands in front of him, point to point. "It appears random at first, you know, but then an image starts to form. Now, I'm not quite finished yet, but I've got a few ideas of who and why."
He stared at me as if I should respond. I didn't.
"There's at least five people you have worked with or for that I butted heads with in the past. Now, two of them are deceased. Unfortunate for them, I suppose, but it does help me eliminate the possibilities. So
, I'm curious, when's the last time you had contact with Frank Skinner?"
I said nothing. Things between Frank and I had been tenuous at best for most of the past decade. Hell, a few months ago I held a gun to his head, and had it not been for Mia's presence, I would have ended Frank's existence.
"From what I understand, you spent a good chunk of your career under the man, either directly or accepting contract work. I know you've recently engaged with him. Now, I never had too much of an issue with him, but as former leader of the now defunct SIS, he might have had some interest in things I've seen going on out here. And I'm concerned that he might think I'm involved. Lord knows I don't want the Feds coming out here for nothing."
"This is why you beat me and dragged me out to this cabin? You think I'm a spook out to take you down?"
"Never know who's watching, Noble. I can see for miles around out here. If someone's watching, we can easily abort." He tapped a trap door on the floor with his foot. I hadn't noticed it prior. I assumed it connected to an escape tunnel. "Now, why don't you answer my question? When's the last time you had contact with Frank Skinner?"
I decided to play along.
"Couple months ago," I said.
"Did he offer you a job? Specifically, did he ask you to come out here and investigate me?"
"Did you recognize me?" I asked.
"Not sure what you mean," he said.
"When you pulled up at the garage, after I'd kicked the shit out of those morons in the parking lot."
Darrow shook his head. "While you were busy watching me, I had someone across the street nab some close-ups of you. I forwarded those on to a friend still sympathetic to me. He ran your image through a number of databases, which, I might add, is not as easy as it sounds with a guy like you. Did you know your image matches up with somewhere around twenty-five different names?"
I knew, but didn't tell him.
"He thought he had you right away, but the name didn't match the ID you gave the cops."
The only way he would've known that was if the cops were in his back pocket. Didn't surprise me.
"So he kept going," Darrow said. "Another result, then another. It was obvious you were more than a mere passer-through, so my guy kept digging. He had to call in a huge favor, and I'm going to owe him pretty big when this is all over. Anyway, I'm sure you know where this is going."
"DB-22," I said. "A list of the government's top agents. Only a handful of people have access to that database. Your guy isn't one of them, but he's buddies with someone who is."
"I wouldn't call them buddies."
"Whatever," I said. I assumed Darrow's guy had something on the other man. It was enough for the man to risk his career and give me up.
"You ever wonder how many people out there would love to know your exact location, Noble?"
"Not something I like to dwell on, Darrow."
"I'd bet it's in the fifties, maybe sixties. I bet some of them would pay a good sum for a chance at your head."
"You're not giving me enough credit. I'm more of an asshole than you can imagine."
Darrow laughed. "So much like your old man. I swear. How is he these days?"
I said nothing.
"Anyway, back to Frank Skinner." He paced across the room. "Did he send you?"
"The last interaction I had with Frank was me sparing his life, and that was only because of witnesses. If it were up to me, he'd be dead. As far as I know, Frank doesn't give a damn about you and whatever it is you are or aren't doing down here. And since I last saw Frank, I haven't had contact with a single person in any agency, in this nation or any other, for that matter."
"So you just drifted your way here, is that right?" He leaned back against the wall, arms folded. His posture and the look on his face indicated he didn't believe me.
"That's right."
"And you just so happened upon a former NYPD detective that you once worked with."
I tried not to show surprise to the fact that he knew Reese's identity. Was that the reason she wouldn't go into it when I asked about Darrow? Had she come to an agreement with the man that she wouldn't speak so long as he never revealed her identity?
"That was a bonus to landing here. Only reason I didn't abandon the Jeep and hitchhike my way out of here." Playing dumb would have been a mistake and possibly brought more grief on Reese than she deserved.
"Perhaps you should have done just that." He stopped, cocked his head to the side. "You don't seem shocked that I know her secret?"
"You were able to figure out who I was. I have no doubt you can get information out of the FBI."
Darrow laughed. "Never liked those sons of bitches myself."
"Well, you'll hate Frank Skinner even more then."
"Yes, I heard about his promotion."
A few silent moments passed. Darrow's gaze flitted from me to Linus. He nodded slightly.
"So what now?" I said.
"I think I need to do a little more checking on you," he said. "I'm inclined to not believe your story, but I don't want to kill you for no reason. I'd hate to waste such talent. Hell, we could work this out over the next few days, and you might take me up on an offer to come work for me."
"Don't hold your breath."
His smile faded. "Right, I understand." He crossed the room, opened the door. "Linus is going to bring you back to town. Mr. Noble, please heed my advice. Don't go anywhere, and don't get too comfortable."
Chapter 30
My muscles had stiffened during the interrogation, but overall I felt better. Wounds had stopped seeping. My head had cleared, and I no longer feared a concussion. At least not one that would keep me down for any number of days. Linus wasn't as tense on the walk back to the truck. Maybe he figured after my talk with Darrow I'd be more cooperative. Perhaps Darrow told him to go easy on me. Or the plan might be to get me halfway there, then kill me.
When we reached the truck, the hood went back on. My hands were zip-tied in front, which made the ride a little easier. Several minutes passed before the truck stopped again. Linus got out, opened my door, pulled the hood off and cut the zip ties.
I moved to the front seat.
"Nothing funny," he said. "We're being watched now. You won't get far. And frankly, I don't fancy my boys growing up without their daddy."
"Then why work for a guy like Darrow?"
"Don't know what you're talking about, man."
"I'm pretty sure I got a good read on the situation."
He shook his head. I prodded with a few more questions, but Linus had dug in and had no plans on giving me any intel.
"You stupid or something, man?" he said, staring at me out of the corner of his eye. "Let it go. Seriously, quit trying to figure out what Darrow's doing. Lay low for a couple days, and you'll likely be on your way."
"Likely, huh?"
He said nothing else. We entered town from the same direction I'd arrived the first time. The garage had its bay doors opened. A couple mechanics were working. The Jeep was nowhere to be found. I gave up on ever seeing it again. No big deal. Not a big loss.
"Shoulda turned there," I said after we passed the road that led to Reese's apartment.
Linus said nothing.
Another minute went by and we were still on Main Street.
"Where the hell are we going?"
Linus didn't answer.
I leaned toward the window and let the wind dry the sweat on my forehead. Then I settled back against the seat, closed my eyes for a few. I felt the truck slow. I looked up at the parking lot we were approaching.
And then I saw it.
"Son of a bitch," I said, going for the door handle.
"Don't do it!" Linus said. "They'll shoot you."
The side mirror on the passenger side had been busted out at some point. I stuck my head out the window and looked back. One cruiser followed close behind. The truck hit a dip about ten miles too fast, throwing me into the dash. My left arm absorbed the impact. Linus pulled to a stop. A car quic
kly moved to the front, and two others on either side. I think every cop in the town had come out. Some took cover behind open car doors, armed with rifles. Others waited in plain sight, Glocks drawn.
I looked back. The trail car had pulled up perpendicular behind us. I was boxed in.
Linus exited the truck, hands held up in plain sight.
"Thanks for bringing him in, Linus," Vernon said from somewhere to my left.
They had me trapped. I had two options.
Death or surrender.
Chapter 31
Crystal River, Florida, 1988
"When I was in country, kid, lemme tell you," the guy started. "What I did, ain't no horror movie out there that compares. It wasn't just the VC. Hell naw, not just them. Them sons of bitches were boring. We were there to take care of them, so we did our jobs quickly and efficiently. The others," the guy broke into a maniacal fit of laughter, "well, let's just say they were for fun."
Jack inched back. He wanted to be close to the wall so when the man made his move, he'd collide with the wall as Jack leapt out of the way.
"The easiest were the whores. God, those delicious whores, man. Their pimps weren't nothing. We'd take a group of us, three or four, get a couple of them whores. Pimp would always want to come along. He'd be the first to go. Usually quick and relatively painless, unless they put up a fight. Then we'd drag it out, make the girls watch. Occasionally, if there appeared to be a family connection between pimp and whore, we'd let the guy live till the end. Made him watch it all."
Jack said nothing. He kept his gaze fixed loosely on the man, trying to remain in tune with his every movement. Follow the belly button, he remembered. The body has to go with it.
"We'd have our way with the whores, and then we'd punish them the way them sinners deserved." He smiled. "That bother you?"
Jack didn't respond. He thought about the man's words and the picture they painted. He was obviously former military. Were they all? Did that have something to do with why they were there? His dad had been a military man. Army. High ranking. He'd been in Viet Nam. Did these guys know of him? Perhaps know him directly?