Pitfall
Page 29
Then I heard Marsh pipe up. “He and John are always making cracks about their exploits, as if it’s a joke. He says they’re rough and tough and know their stuff.” Thankfully he was using my preferred name today, probably in deference to Shelly. He went on, “But make no mistake. They truly do know their stuff.”
“I’ve seen that,” Shelly murmured.
“Let me put it this way,” he said. “I’d hate to be their enemy. I know where John is concerned he has one side he reserves just for the bad guys. He’s absolutely relentless when it comes to them. Maybe you could ask Seth about it.”
Janine huffed a laugh. “Yeah, Shelly, you could ask, but good luck coaxing anything personal about him out of that man of mine. He’d just clam up, holding his hand like a stop sign and telling you to wait and find out for yourself. And John’s the same way. I swear, I swear it’s like they’re two brothers from different mothers.”
Shelly replied, with what sounded like a touch of wonder in her tone, “I didn’t know there were still men like that left in the world.”
Marsh laughed. “Listen, Shel, I’ve known him for years, and he’s utterly fearless. Sometimes, though, it gets him in trouble.” Sometimes? Lately more often than not. “But like you said, you already know that. He has unending patience with most people, but not himself. Never himself.”
Hearing shouts of raucous laughter, my attention was drawn to some kids building sand castles on the beach, complete with moats. From the sounds they were having a blast.
Janine smoothly interjected, “You’ll find he doesn’t give his trust easily. I suppose that partly comes from his Ranger training. Take it from my living with Seth all these years, they talk little and listen a lot.”
Okay, that was enough. Any more of this and these three were going to turn my head. Shoving the now-damp rag back into my hip pocket, I cleared my throat as I signaled my approach.
Thankfully they quickly changed the subject as I slowly walked up and stepped over the picnic table bench. Easing myself wearily down next to Shelly, I gave her a pained smile. Seth was right; that beer keg stunt had been stupid.
When Shelly turned away from the sun to look at me, the sudden toss of her head sent her golden hair swirling in a shimmering cloud around her graceful neck and shoulders. Taking her small hand lightly in mine, I gazed down tenderly at her.
Plainly put, the woman was intoxicating, and nicely filled out the fire-engine red, backless sundress she was wearing. Very nicely. Could be something good had come out of this nightmare after all.
But she’s leaving, I reminded myself. Soon. The realization of that once more flooded in.
But someday she be might be able to exit the program, I thought, and I’d see her again. The odds were against it, but who knew? Maybe something good might come out of this nightmare after all.
Looking up, I caught a clouded look in Marsh’s countenance. “John, you look like you’re on the verge of collapse.”
Janine also wore a worried expression as she peered up at me over the rims of her tortoise-shell frame sunglasses. “Spill it, white boy. What have you been up to this time?”
“Who, me?” I flashed a tired smile in feigned innocence, giving them my pure-as-the-driven-snow act. No way was I going to tell them of my new hobby of beer keg juggling.
Marsh wasn’t buying it. “You need to follow doctor’s orders, Johnny. Naturally.”
“Naturally,” I echoed, my face deadpan as I turned my attention to him.
Seth whistled through his teeth from where he stood. “Oh yeah, that’ll be the day. When pigs fly, maybe.” Striding up to the end of the picnic table he said to me, “John, old buddy, if you ever willingly did what a doctor told you the first time, I’d be stunned.” Handing me one of the two beers he was holding, he parked himself next to his wife.
Just then Kenny and Ronnie ran up, laughing. They each grabbed a brownie and started happily chomping away as they raced off again toward the other kids.
Ignoring Seth’s crack, I gazed around in silent appreciation. Most of my closest friends, all here at one table: Seth, Janine, and Marsh, and with them my newest—and sadly, soon to be gone—friend, Shelly. Walt Solomon and his family were supposed to have been here as well, but at the last minute he told me he was asked to fill in for an agent guarding Eli Cross’s prison convoy who’d fallen ill. Knowing what Cross and his son had done to me, with an evil grin Walt said he’d be more than glad to help. In fact, just try to keep him away.
Holding out my beer, I said, “I’d like to make a toast.”
Silently they held up their cups, looking at me in expectation. I cleared my throat again.
“Thanks again for your patience and understanding. I know these past few weeks haven’t been easy for any of us. I have no idea why I have such terrific people around me, but I’m very, very grateful.” My voice grew a bit louder as I raised my cup, gazing at each one in turn. “So here’s to all my friends and loved ones, here and gone.” The words hung. “But not forgotten.”
Plainly nonplussed, Seth tried to hide. “Showoff.”
I was about to make a snappy comeback when suddenly my new Blackberry hanging in its pouch off my belt picked that moment to ring. Now what? Pulling it free, I stared at the screen. No name, and the number wasn’t familiar.
Unaccountably the melancholy I’d felt earlier was back, suddenly blooming full-born into a dark chill of raw disaster. A klaxon alarm sounded in my mind as at the same time my old pal farsight skittered up my spine on tiny, spiked feet.
Setting my beer down, I swiveled around, stepping over the picnic bench, and began walking away on a diagonal path. I placed the unit to my ear. “Brenner.”
The man on the other end started talking.
I stopped in my tracks, tensing in astonishment. “Say again?” Gripping the phone tighter, my heart froze. My voice was strained and filled with shock. “Are you sure?”
At the grim expression on my face, Seth stood.
I listened a few moments longer, then I sighed heavily. “Got it.”
With my mind churning like whitewater rapids, I put the phone away. Standing stock-still, I glared straight ahead at nothing at all, attempting to absorb the devastating news. All the other sights and sounds faded into the distance as I contemplated what I’d just heard.
A hundred questions swirled around like hot sparks up a flue as I attempted to digest the enormity of the situation. The creeping wave of numbed disbelief a moment ago had been replaced by the agonized realization that what I’d just been told was true. I knew the anguish I was feeling was mirrored in my body language.
“John, what’s wrong?” Seth’s tone was low and controlled. When I didn’t immediately answer he said my name again, louder, anxious now and impatient. “John?”
Slowly turning to him, my voice rumbled, the words coming out strained and hollow. I could taste the bitterness of grief and calamity on my tongue as I looked directly at him. “Walt’s dead.” Every eye whipped my way at those words.
“What?” Seth blurted, his body suddenly taut. “Dead?”
From the corner of my eye I caught Shelly’s soft expressive face flooding with questioning concern. “Who’s Walt?”
I struggled to contain my churning, conflicting emotions. Fear, guilt, rage, and grief fought within me for control. Although the sun hung bright in the late afternoon sky, the atmosphere now felt harsh and leaden, like dark and ominous storm clouds gathering for an onslaught. It seemed the temperature had dropped twenty degrees as the full implication of the message hit me.
The game had just changed. Drastically.
“Walt Solomon is our friend and jump school partner,” I told Shelly, my timbre hollow, “and is—” I stopped, and then began again. “Was a Navy pilot and a SEAL. Two years ago he took a job as a consulting field agent with the FBI.”
The terrible silence stretched.
“I should have killed him when I had the chance.” Turning my head toward the trees my voi
ce was tight, grating, ragged with rage. “It wouldn’t have taken much …”
“What do you mean?” Seth walked over and stood right in front of me. “Killed who? What are you talking about?”
I stared at the ground but didn’t really see it as I spoke haltingly, with a voice gone leaden with emotion. “That call was from Bob.”
Seth knew I was talking about Walt’s FBI supervisor, Bob Phegley.
“This will hit the news any second, but he wanted to give us both a heads up first.” I looked up, pausing again, and ran my hands through my hair.
Seth’s ocher countenance held fiery menace. “Man, just say it.”
My chest felt constricted. “Walt’s unit was escorting a federal marshal’s convoy carrying Eli Cross to a more secure facility. Fifteen minutes ago they were attacked by what the survivors called a small army packing automatic weapons.”
The others gasped. I didn’t need to see their horrific expressions as I kept addressing my friend. “It was a bloodbath, Seth. Whole families in the passing traffic were burned alive when their vehicles were hit with tracer gunfire and exploded. All of the marshals are dead, along with twelve FBI agents.” My throat closed. “Including Walt.”
This was met with a long chilling silence of stunned incredulity as a pall of shock spread over all of them. Then as it sank in, Janine broke into silent tears, burying her face in her hands. Walt, his wife, and their two little girls had sat at this very table with us just over four months ago, on the fourth of July.
My hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists. This agony carried a weight all its own. “It looks like we’re not done yet with Eli Cross.” My eyes bored straight into Seth’s. “The son of a bitch is out.”
Devastation filled his face. “What? Are you sure?”
“There’s more.” I knew my words only added to his pain, but they had to be said. “Things have gotten personal.”
He shook his head and scowled, not getting it.
I plowed on, my voice jagged. “One of the surviving agents witnessed Cross walk up to Walt, who was already shot and dying, and call him by his name. Then he pulled Walt’s gun out of his hand and shot him again, point blank.”
Seth gaped. “He knew his name? That means he knew the two of you were friends. How did he know that?”
“Maybe he has somebody inside the bureau,” I gritted. “Maybe somehow he got to the agent that’s supposedly sick. Who cares?” My hands clenched. “But right before Cross vanished in an unmarked van, the agent saw him bend down and dip his hand into the wound in Walt’s chest.”
Seth stared, for once without anything to say.
I charged ahead, “They saw him scrawl a message across one of the black SUV’s broken windshields. It was a single word, written in Walt’s blood.”
Seth shook with barely contained violence, his eyes blazing with white-hot rage as he stared unblinking into my own. “What was the word?”
I ground it out. “Revenge.”
Shelly’s husky voice held a full measure of horror. “Against you?”
Without turning his head, Seth answered her. “Who else?”
My gaze was still locked on him, my reply tight, guttural, and spoken with savage promise. “Not if we get him first.”
“So how are we going to do that?” Seth demanded.
“Bob said they tracked Cross to Lunken Field, where he and his men hauled out on a private Learjet. They lost him after that; no transponder aboard. But with what happened today, Homeland Security now has him listed as a domestic terrorist, so they’re involved.”
“Domestic terrorist.” Seth shook his head in agony. “That’ll do us no good if he winds up somewhere with no extradition.”
“Screw extradition.” My throat felt clotted with rage. “He may have gotten away, but it’s not going to be as clean as he hoped.”
Seth’s eyes glinted with a dark and dangerous purpose. “Because Eli Cross now has two very pissed-off, highly trained, extremely motivated Rangers on his ass.”
“That psychopath’s day is going to come, and at a time he least expects it.” My tone was graveyard black. “And right before I end him, however long that takes, I want to look straight into his eyes and let him know exactly who it is that’s taking his life.”
Thank you for reading Pitfall. Reviews help authors reach readers. If you enjoyed the book the way I hope you did, then I would appreciate an honest review at http://wbp.bz/pitfallreviews.
You can sign up for advance notice of new releases at: http://wildbluepress.com/AdvanceNotice
Thanks again for reading,
Cameron Bane
More Mysteries/Thrillers You’ll Love From WildBlue Press.
Learn more at: http://wbp.bz/cf
www.WildBluePress.com
Go to WildBluePress.com to sign up for our newsletter!
By subscribing to our newsletter you’ll get advance notice of all new releases as well as notifications of all special offers. And you’ll be registered for our monthly chance to win a FREE collection of our eBooks and/or audio books to some lucky fan who has posted an honest review of our one of our books/eBooks/audio books on Amazon, Itunes and GoodReads.
More True Crime You’ll Love
From WildBlue Press.
Learn more at: http://wbp.bz/cf
www.WildBluePress.com
Let Someone Else Do The Reading.
Enjoy One Of Our Audiobooks
Learn more at: http://wbp.bz/audio
Please feel free to check out more True CRIME books by our friends at
www.RJPARKERPUBLISHING.com