Truth or Dare

by Fern Michaels

  Inside Starbucks, Jack looked out the window to see a black panel van pull up two parking spaces away from the farm pickup truck. “It’s going to go down now. Ahhh, four guys. Back is opening up. Bankers boxes. We need to go outside now, so Dennis doesn’t do anything stupid. Even with Cyrus there.”

  Harry was already halfway out the door before Jack stopped talking. They casually sauntered toward where Harry had parked his Ducati. As they strolled past Dennis, they could hear one of the buttoned-up suits say to Dennis, “Well, aren’t you going to help?”

  “You talking to me? If so, no. I just pick up and deliver. Says so in my contract.”

  One of the bankers boxes hit the bed of the truck, and the lid flew off. Dennis stretched his neck, and said, “Not nice. I’m not responsible for the contents if anything blows away. One way or another, you guys will pay for any loss or damage. Do that again, and this dog will chew your ass off. Nice and easy, boys.” Dennis felt like a badass and hoped it showed.

  Cyrus advanced to within striking distance and froze before he let loose with a bloodcurdling growl, then showed the pearly whites that Jack faithfully brushed twice a day. The four men paused as they stared at the dog, then at Dennis, who was staring at Jack as both men fought to control their laughter.

  “Easy, Cyrus,” Dennis crooned under his breath as the balance of the cartons were carefully slid into the truck bed. The sound of the tailgate slamming shut ten minutes later clued Dennis to the fact the transfer was complete.

  “Okay, buddy, sign here that you got all sixteen boxes and the one labeled ‘United States’!” one of the men shouted.

  “What! What! You didn’t hear me? I said I just pick up and deliver. You want me to sign something, bring it here, and I’ll sign it; otherwise, I’m outta here. I’m on a deadline. I get paid by the trip, and any failure to meet the deadline comes out of my pay.” Dennis swung his legs back inside the truck and turned on the engine, but he didn’t close the rusty door.

  The four men eyed one another uneasily as Cyrus moved to go around to the passenger side of the truck. “Get that mutt outta here!” one of the men shouted.

  Cyrus stopped when he heard the word mutt and lunged at the man holding a slip of paper.

  Dennis gasped as guns appeared out of nowhere in the hands of the other three men. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry and Jack seem to fly through the air, their arms and legs going every which way. And then it went deathly quiet, with the only sound coming from the man whose buttocks Cyrus had in his jaw. The other three men looked to be sleeping peacefully on the ground. Dennis decided right then and there that he had just learned more curse words in one minute than he had his entire life.

  “Good job, Cyrus!” Jack said. “You can let him go now. You had your fun, so it’s back to work.” Cyrus yipped happily as he hopped into the old farm truck and buckled up.

  “You did good, kid,” Harry said, slapping Dennis on the back. “Head for home. We’ll stick around a while to make sure these guys get off okay. Keep an eye on the rearview mirror, but I don’t think there will be anyone following you. They’ll think they’re ahead of the game with the license-plate number.”

  The only agent still standing, and Jack and Harry simply assumed they were agents, rubbed his buttocks and turned white when he saw blood puddling around his shoe. “You’re under arrest!”

  Jack and Harry laughed. Harry reached out, tweaked the agent under his ear, and watched as he joined his fellow agents on the concrete parking lot.

  “Some people are just plain silly, don’t you agree, Harry?” Jack bent down, picked up the slip of paper, and signed it Donald J. Trump. He guffawed as he tried to outrun Harry to the Ducati. Harry beat him by a nanosecond.

  Ten minutes later, Harry whizzed by the rusty farm truck. Dennis tapped the horn, a froggy, wheezing sound. He waved. Cyrus slept peacefully on the passenger seat. He’d had enough action for one day.

  * * *

  As Dennis headed back to Pinewood, the Karas brothers were stalled in traffic on their way into the District of Columbia. Roland, the younger brother by two minutes, was irritated, and he let it show. “This is a mistake, Ryland. You should have said something, explained in more detail. Why didn’t you?”

  “We were told never to question our benefactor. I simply did as I was told. And then the Internet and the phones went down. Not that I would have called him back because I would never do that. Nor would you if you stop and think about it. It’s easy to say something after the fact.”

  “And you’re right. It’s a mistake, Ry. You know it, and I know it. No matter what fiction says, you do not, I repeat, you do not return to the scene of the crime. What is he thinking?”

  “I have no idea, and I do not want to know. He said drive to Washington, do not fly. Check in at the Sofitel. All the arrangements have been made. That’s it. So, that’s what we’re going to do if we ever get there.”

  Roland handed over the newspaper he’d read from cover to cover to his brother. “You should read the article on the front page, the one above the fold, then the article on the CIA agent who has gone rogue. Seriously, Ryland, read both articles.”

  With nothing else to do but twiddle his thumbs, Ryland scanned the printed matter on top of the fold. “Well, this explains why we’re going to Washington. Our benefactor assumes we will be on the list, and he wants us available to attend this black tie event.”

  Roland made a rude sound deep in his throat that caused his brother to look at him in alarm. “What?”

  “I don’t think we’re going to be on that list. The countess has hosted many a soiree to raise money here and abroad, and we have never been invited before this. What makes our benefactor think this time will be different? It’s too close.... Something isn’t right. Think, Ryland, for God’s sake, think for once instead of blindly obeying our benefactor.”

  “You think we’re being set up for . . . for . . .”

  “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I think. We made mistakes. That rogue agent is on the hunt for us. She wants her children. It’s all tied in together. Don’t you get it?”

  “And you are visualizing a very nasty outcome to this visit, is that what you are saying? Or should I say predicting?”

  “Exactly. I’m glad you are finally seeing it.”

  “Roland, what would you have us do? There’s nothing for us outside of this car. Our benefactor owns us, body and soul. There’s nothing we can do but follow his orders. Unless you have a death wish, which I do not share.”

  “Think about this, brother. Assume we get caught. Can you even begin to imagine what life will be like for us here in an American prison, considering the business we’re in? I do so wish you would read more. You would not do well, nor would I, as prison bitches.”

  “It will never come to that, Roland. Our benefactor will take care of us.”

  “No, Ryland, he won’t. He will only protect himself and those closest to him. He’ll toss us to the wolves. Or he’ll kill us first.”

  Ryland closed his eyes and thought about what his brother had just said. Roland was no fool, and he did read. Roland was worldlier, and he understood society much more than Ryland himself did. He should pay attention to what he was hearing. Even agreeing with him would do no good if he was right.

  Roland stared at his brother until his eyes snapped open. “What would you have us do? Do you have a plan? What, brother?”

  “Sadly, no. But if we work together, surely we can come up with something.”

  Ryland surprised his brother with his next question. “What has you the most worried, the countess’s party list or the rogue agent?”

  Roland didn’t hesitate before replying. “Both, because I think they are tied together.”

  “The agent concerns me the most,” Ryland confided.

  “And it should because that’s on you. You gave the order to snatch her kids. I said no, and you overruled me.”

  “As you pointed out, I made a mistake. We have to
find a way to correct that mistake.”

  “You really need to start listening to me, Ry. It’s too late. We can’t correct it.”

  “I refuse to believe that,” Ryland said, leaning back into the softness of the leather seat. He put in his earbuds and closed his eyes.

  With nothing else to do while sitting in stalled traffic, Roland reached for the paper and started to read it a second time, hoping he had missed something that would give him pleasure the second time around.

  * * *

  Harry Wong knew the moment he stepped into his dojo that someone was inside. He took a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. He did it again and again until he had his heart rate where he wanted it.

  He walked about, turning on lights. His senses were functioning at an all-time high. He was aware of everything at a glance. Choa, his lead instructor, had once again forgotten to put the cap on the eucalyptus liniment. He put the top on and twisted it. He was aware of the smell of sweat, disinfectant, and eucalyptus. Sometimes, the smell bothered him; other times, he didn’t even notice it. The dojo was clean, and that was all that mattered to him.

  There was no one in any of the workout rooms. That had to mean whoever was in the dojo was upstairs in his apartment. It wasn’t his wife, Yoko—she was somewhere with the sisters—and it wasn’t his daughter, Lily—she was at school.

  Harry didn’t hesitate or break step. He did what he always did: he headed for the stairs that would take him to the second floor, where he lived with his family. He turned on the light at the bottom of the staircase that lit up the entire stairway and the small foyer at the top. Then he ascended the stairs. To his left was the kitchen, to his right, the living room. Then another small hallway where two bedrooms were side to side with the bathroom on the left.

  He didn’t miss a step when he turned on another light, and his kitchen appeared. A woman was sitting at the kitchen table, her hands folded. “I didn’t touch anything, Harry. I’ve just been sitting here waiting. This is your home, but I was afraid to stay outside, too many eyes out there. I swear, Harry, I didn’t even look around.”

  “It’s okay. How are you, Tea Pope?”

  Allison Bannon didn’t move. “Oh, God, Harry, do you know how good it is to hear my real name said out loud?” A sob caught in her throat. “They erased me, Harry. But that’s not why I’m here. How are my children? Are they okay? Lizzie . . .”

  “I know. The kids are fine, or as fine as they can be. We’ve been taking care of them. They’re healthy. Resilient. They miss you, of course. They talk about you all the time, especially Andy. He said you are going to be proud of him because he doesn’t eat with his fingers anymore. He’s pretty good with a spoon.”

  Allison’s shoulders started to shake. “Oh, God, Harry! I need to see them. Can you take me to where they are? Like right now?”

  “They’re asleep. They had just gone to bed when I left to come home. We’ll go first thing in the morning. You look different.”

  “Not different enough to fool you, though, right?”

  “It’s the eyes. The eyes are always a dead giveaway. How did you get here?”

  “Lizzie helped me. My new name is Doris Brown—all the creds say so. She got me an SUV. I have a bank account and an ATM card. I’m good for the moment. I parked a block away and walked the rest of the way.”

  “What happened, Tea? Who the hell are you working for?”

  “I, along with my team, are on loan to Homeland Security. Three years now. I’m on the CIA payroll, but as you know, they are forbidden to operate domestically.”

  “Where’s Steven?”

  “Hopefully in custody, singing his heart out. He was a mole. He’ll try to cut a deal, and who knows what will happen. He sold us out. I didn’t see it coming, Harry. That means I’m slipping. The marriage was over years ago, after Andy’s birth, if you want me to be specific. He wanted his own team, resented being my number two. While the rest of the team worked with him, they wouldn’t take orders from him. I talked to my handler, but he said he wasn’t going to make any changes until this mission had been completed. Guess that didn’t sit well with Steven.

  “We had the guys we wanted nailed down. Easy peasy. When we got there, they were gone, the place sterilized. I knew in my gut it was Steven who sold us out, but when I saw the smug look on his face, I knew for certain. So did the team. He wanted me to look bad, to show I was chasing phantoms.

  “I went nuts when I found out my kids had been kidnapped. I raised all kinds of hell. Luka told me everything was being done by the agency and every other agency, specifically the FBI, to find them. I believed him. I still believe that. They’ve taken good care of my kids over the years. Steven didn’t seem to care. Harry, he didn’t care.

  “I made the decision that it was time to get out. So, I cut and ran. My kids are more important to me than the CIA. I don’t care how much money they spent training me, I don’t care that I’m number one. I gave them fifteen years. Fifteen years I can never get back. I allowed them to turn me into what I am today. Harry, look at me,” Allison said, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m an assassin. I have a license to kill bad people. I have the blessing of the president and the director of the FBI. I’m in demand by every damn agency in Washington. Do you believe that?” She sobbed.

  “They won’t let me out. I know too much. They’ll kill me, Harry. They will. They won’t want to, and they might try to find another way, but in the end, the next BOLO that goes out will be STK. Shoot to kill. I’m good, but I can’t run for the rest of my life, even I know that. And what’s going to happen to my kids? Steven is going to go to prison. Neither of us has any family. I need help, Harry. Lizzie said you and your friends would help me. Can you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Today, the Internet went down. I never thought that was possible. It’s like the world came to a stop. Most of the cell-phone towers didn’t work, either. Somebody up there must be watching over me. I was able to make it here from Tennessee with no problems. There were some roadblocks, but I aced them. Communication, orders, directives . . . they all came to a standstill. It worked for me. Did the Internet come back up?”

  Harry laughed. “It did.”

  Allison stared at Harry, her eyes wide in shock. “You shut it down, you crashed it!”

  “Ah . . . it was a collaborative effort, but yes, we shut it down. We brought the CIA to their knees. They gave us what we wanted, which was basically everything they had on your current mission. They buckled.”

  “Lizzie said you run with some . . . some powerful people. Want to share more?”

  “No.”

  “You sure my kids are okay? Seriously, Harry, don’t pacify me. I need to know. I’m a mother.”

  “Your kids are fine. I swear on my own daughter. They’re very intelligent. They escaped. Carrie took care of Emily and Andy. They were held in a funeral home. They slept in coffins. They think they just slept in boxes. Sooner or later, as they get older, they’re going to remember, and they might need some counseling. I’m a grown man, and it creeps me out no end. They’re troopers, Tea, chips off the old block. You need to trust me . . . us.”

  “While I was sitting here, I started to think about the past, what if anything will be my future. I think, at least right now, that I, too, might have to talk with a shrink at some point if they don’t get to me first. How do I live with it, Harry?”

  Harry propped his elbows up on the table and stared across at the woman who was staring at him and hoping that he had an answer to her question. “You saved a lot of lives. You and your team have made the world a better, safer place. You learn to live with it. The end justifies the means, that kind of thing. Console yourself with what happened after you made your hit. No one is ever going to know except the people who need to know. I know you got commendations, medals for your service. I also know the president himself thanked you and shook your hand. If it weren’t you, there would have been someone else taking the shot. Think what woul
d have happened if that person missed and the end result was catastrophic. You did it because you’re the best. You made all the difference. The difference is what counts. Think about that! Jack laughs at me when I say everything ends just the way it was meant to end. He said that’s Chinese philosophy. I prefer my thinking. You did a job you were trained to do. You can’t blame yourself that you’re the best of the best. You proved it here in the dojo. We good here? Want some tea, some food?”

  “Who is Jack? Forget that crappy tea you drink. I don’t think my stomach can handle your seeds and sprouts. Now if you offer me hot, strong coffee and a ham sandwich or a cheese one, then I’m your girl.”

  Harry grinned. “I have coffee. And there is ham and cheese in the fridge. My daughter comes home from school on weekends, and she likes ham and cheese. She detests Chinese and Japanese food. Go figure. Jack is . . . Jack is . . . my friend. He’s like a brother.”

  “A close friend then. I understand. I don’t have any friends. No relatives, either. For a while, Steven was my friend. That’s back when the marriage worked.” Allison wound down and watched Harry as he put water on to boil for his tea, and then he made coffee before he made her a thick sandwich that looked delicious.

  “So, Harry,” Allison said between mouthfuls of food, “who are these . . . ah . . . special people you are aligned with? Lizzie spoke glowingly of you, but she wouldn’t divulge anything other than that I should trust you. I trust you, Harry.”

  “Tomorrow morning, when we head out to Pinewood, will be time enough. You need to eat and go to bed. We’ll head out early to beat the rush-hour traffic. You will need to park your vehicle in the alley outside the dojo. We’ll take my motorcycle.”