What You Can’t See

by Allison Brennan

Zach prodded Roger. “Dock number?”

  “Sixty-six.”

  “We need to go, Danica.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes, right now.”

  “I can’t just leave.”

  “Grab whatever credentials you need. I can’t explain. I just know we need to get there before anyone else does.”

  Danica shook her head then pulled her Nextel out and alerted a number.

  “Fredrickson.”

  “Jimmy, I need to leave the premises for a few hours, I need you to put this Caladian shipment in lockdown for Manfred.”

  “Will do,”

  “Who’s Manfred?” Zach asked.

  “The curator.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “Trust him how?”

  “To not give the artifacts away?”

  Danica laughed and shook her head. “Garett, I have no idea what happened to you in the crash but you have seriously lost it.”

  In answer his temple began to throb. He took Danica by the hand and pulled her behind him. “We need to get to the dock and open the other crate.”

  “First we have to wait for customs to go through it.”

  “How long does that take?”

  “Depends on how backed up they are.”

  “Let’s go see if we can hurry them along.”

  After a quick stop at her office for her purse, Danica said, “I’ll drive. I’m not getting on the back of that bike of yours without a helmet.”

  “How did you know I rode the hog?”

  “I just do.”

  And that was how it was between them. Even after three years and a terrible breakup they were still as attuned to the other as if they were attached at the hip.

  They exited through the back entrance. Just as Danica unlocked her Jeep the wail of sirens disturbed the quiet of the back parking lot. Danica caught Zach’s gaze. “Let me drive,” he said.

  “No way. Get in.”

  As she turned east on Stevenson Boulevard heading toward 880, three squad cars and several unmarkeds squealed into the front lot before splitting, no doubt to cover all exits.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, Garett.”

  Despite the direness of their situation, Zach flashed her a disarming smile. “I can’t believe I did either.”

  Well into the rush hour, they hit the diamond lane and blew past the commuters who refused to ride share.

  It was easy getting on to the docks. Zach simply flashed his badge. They were met with little resistance at the customs office. When the customs official informed them the crate had been cleared and was in the holding area hope flared.

  “If possible, sir,” Danica said, “we’d like to check the manifest for the container.”

  The officer nodded and pulled it up on the computer then printed it out. Zach and Danica moved to a corner of the office and scanned the list. While several vessels, jewelry, pottery, and other miscellaneous items were listed, no scabbard was mentioned. “Officer,” Zach said, stepping toward him. “We need to get into that container.”

  “I’m sorry, Detective Garett, but the holding area is on a time clock. The gates are locked.”

  “Open them.”

  The officer shook his head. “No can do. I don’t have the lock code.”

  “Who does?”

  “Dock security.”

  “Are they part of the customs office?”

  “No, a private firm. And unless the cargo is in peril or there is some other type of emergency, we contracted for them not to open the area.”

  “Where can I find the security office?”

  The officer started to protest but Danica spoke up. “Look, officer, we’re all on the same side here. There is what could be a crucial piece of evidence in that container. We need to get our hands on it, like yesterday. Please, time is of the essence.”

  Twenty minutes later Zach and Danica were carefully pulling packaged artifacts from the crate. It was obvious from the way the boxes were so intricately aligned, customs hadn’t done a complete check, only a cursory look-see and X-ray. Probably had the dogs take a sniff as well.

  Good.

  “Zach, we need to make sure every item is replaced exactly as we found it.”

  “We don’t have time for that. We need to get what we came for and get the hell out of here.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Danica. We need to get out of here while we can.”

  “But—”

  He moved around the gaping crate and grabbed her arms. For once she didn’t resist. “Call your curator, call his assistant, call anyone you want. Have them come take care of this mess.”

  Danica nodded, still unsure exactly why she had agreed to this wild-goose chase with the one person on earth whom she had sworn never to speak to again, much less abet in what was surely an illegal endeavor. She was curious, however, about the scabbard and even more curious about what the discovery would mean.

  It wasn’t until they got to the last container that Zach and Danica exchanged looks across the mess they’d made. Made of the same rough wood as the other boxes, this one’s shape gave them hope. It was about a yard in length, and approximately eight inches high.

  Zach pressed his palm to the lid. The sword at Zach’s back hummed. Danica’s eyes widened. So, she heard it too.

  “I don’t know what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into this time, Garett, but, God help me, it had better be good.”

  Together they lifted the container from the crate to the floor. With a small pry Zach opened the lid. Securely embedded in the container was a smoothly polished cypress-wood box. It looked—ancient. Odd symbols were carved into the smooth wood. Instead of nails sealing the lid shut, intricate grooves sealed it.

  Zach looked expectantly at Danica then back down at the cypress box. Together they lifted it from the protective box and set it on the floor. Excitement pulsed through her. Like anticipating a gourmet meal, Danica licked her lips. Zach looked up at her from his kneeling position. Wonder lightened his eyes to pure gold. He touched his thumb to a smooth divot on the corner. A small sound like a door quietly opening alerted them.

  He slid the lid back, exposing what appeared to be—wool?

  Danica’s nose twitched. The smell was odd, and not completely unpleasant. “Wool?” she asked.

  Zach touched his fingertips to the covering. A fleece. “It’s soft.”

  Danica reached out and touched it, their fingers side by side. Heat emanated from the fabric. Zach lifted the object wrapped tightly in the wool. He could feel the heat intensify and the sword at his back mimicked it. Like two long-lost lovers the sword and scabbard yearned to meet again.

  “Unwrap it,” Danica softly said, realizing she was in the presence of something magnificent, something bigger than her, bigger than Zach. Bigger than life.

  Carefully, Zach unwound the thick fleece. Their eyes widened as an ancient scabbard emerged. The gold was smooth but tarnished, yet the edges were honed to deadly sharpness, and several imperfections marred it. As it revealed itself they both gasped in awe. A simple yet spectacular six-pointed star of precious colored gemstones lay deeply imbedded at the wider opening. As Danica reached out and touched it, the warmth of the object, like something alive, filled her body in a soothing hypnotic fashion. Guided by an invisible hand, she turned the star counterclockwise and it moved, like a key, and cleaved to her hand. She held it up under the harsh light of the room.

  “My God, it’s beautiful.” The stones glowed in blazing appreciation.

  “The Star of Moria,” Zach murmured. Danica’s eyes widened in wonder as the gems glittered with fire in the light.

  Deep voices echoed in the holding dock. Danica’s heart thumped. She pressed the star protectively to her chest.

  “It’s Mark,” Zach said.

  “Impossible! He’s at the hospital getting his thumb reattached!”

  “It’s him.” Zach’s heightened senses picked up the stink.


  Zach held out his hand for the star. Danica shook her head and backed up. “It’s safe with me.”

  “I know it is, but the star belongs with the scabbard.” Grudgingly Danica knelt down next to the scabbard and gently replaced the star.

  Zach quickly wrapped the scabbard in the wool then stood, tucking the package under his arm. He grabbed Danica’s hand and pulled her out of the holding cell and started to run in the opposite direction of the voices. He wondered if Immortals were as aware of him as he was of them.

  As they raced down the hallway, Zach tried one locked door after another. Unable to go farther, they were at the end of the long cavernous hall. Trapped.

  Danica pulled the Sig from Zach’s belt. “That won’t work on Santos,” Zach calmly informed her.

  “Of course it will. If you remember correctly I was ranked sniper grade in the academy.”

  “It has nothing to do with your aim.”

  “Zach, you have some more explaining to do.”

  He handed her the fleece-wrapped package. He watched her eyes widen as she took it into her arms, and cradled it like a newborn. “My God, it…feels alive.”

  “It’s your destiny, Dani.”

  Danica gasped and stared wide-eyed at him. He saw realization dawn, before fear clouded it. He drew the sword from his back and jammed it into the padlocked metal door behind them. The sound of slicing tumblers was music to his ears. He shoved open the door and pushed Danica through.

  Zach pulled her along then slowed to keep pace with her. When he asked for the wool package back she shook her head. “Mine.”

  He smiled. Her possessiveness was a good sign. Did she feel the same urgency he did?

  It didn’t take long for them to maneuver through the dock buildings. As they hurried into the parking lot, Danica bit back a scream. Mark Santos along with two uniforms stood between them and her ride.

  She hugged the scabbard pack to her chest. Zach pushed her behind him, pulled the sword from the small of his back, holding it before him in an attack stance. He didn’t know the uniforms by name but he recognized them. He recognized the collective stench of sulfur that among the three of them was overwhelming. He also noticed the hard sheen in their eyes.

  So, Santos had friends.

  “Put it down, Garett,” Santos called.

  Danica gasped. “His thumb!”

  Santos smiled, the gesture ugly. He lifted his right hand, and gave her a thumbs-up. “What can I say, Dani? I have a quick doctor.”

  No way.

  Zach spoke. “I’m only going to warn the three of you once. Step aside and let us pass or—” He held the sword higher, the glow of the golden blade flashing under the parking-lot lights. “Be prepared to die, permanently.”

  Santos shook his head. “Just give me the scabbard.”

  Danica gasped again and tightened her grip on the package.

  “Come and get it,” Zach challenged.

  The uniform closest to him raised his service weapon.

  Zach was never a man to be afraid of anything or anyone, and facing such unfair odds as he did now, with only a sword to protect them and Dani wielding a useless gun with one hand, he’d never felt so empowered.

  “Get him,” Santos directed his two men. The minute he opened his mouth, Zach’s heightened senses picked up the coming command.

  Holding the sword like a hammer, Zach lunged toward the uniforms. He dove then rolled on the asphalt in front of them. As he came up between them he jabbed the closest Immortal in the jugular, spun to his left and backhanded the Immortal who had unholstered his gun. Air hissed from his filleted neck. The warm spray of blood flicked across Zach’s cheek. Both Immortals slid motionless to the ground.

  Zach turned, the scent of blood sharp in his nose. Santos chased Danica, who shot at him as she ran, the bullets doing no more damage than gnat bites.

  Danica stumbled and fell to the ground. With the fleece grasped to her chest she scooted backward as fast as her legs would move. Mark strode toward her and grabbed her by the front of her shirt, raising her off the ground. He turned with her in his right hand, just as Zach charged, his speed a blur. Danica kicked and pulled the scabbard from the fleece and stabbed at Santos with it. The attack had no impact.

  Santos plucked the scabbard from Danica as easily as if he were removing a flower from a vase. She screamed and grabbed it back, Santos backhanded her, then twisted her around so her back pressed against his chest. He slid the scabbard around to the front of her throat pressing the razor edge into her skin. With every sense heightened, Zach came to an abrupt halt.

  Santos laughed, the sound shrill, full of challenge. “A choice, my friend. The girl or the scabbard.”

  Danica squirmed and kicked at his knees. Santos shook her like a terrier would a rat, the scabbard never more than an inch from her throat. Zach’s blood pounded, adrenaline infusing every cell in his body. “Let her go, Santos.”

  “Oh, come on now. You don’t really think I’m just going to listen to you, do you? I want you to choose. The scabbard or the girl. You can’t have both. Not while I’m alive.”

  Zach squatted down on his haunches. His eyes burned as he focused on the hand holding the scabbard. He gave the appearance he was weighing his choices. When in fact his choice was made the minute his nemesis touched the woman he loved. Zach sprang.

  “Santos!” Zach roared. Zach let loose with the sword as Santos pressed the scabbard against Danica’s throat. The blade whizzed past his head, slicing his right ear off. Santos shrieked, dropping Danica and grabbing his bloody head. Zach rushed him, and shoved him to the ground.

  While Zach had gained much in strength he hadn’t realized how strong Santos was. They rolled on the asphalt fighting for possession of the scabbard. It scraped the asphalt, sparks jumping in the air. Santos’s grasp held firm possession. Unable to pry his fingers from the metal, Zach slammed Mark’s hand hard against the ground. The force of the blow loosened the star. It popped out and fell to the ground. Mark reacted with superhuman strength. He roared and shoved Zach off his chest and in so doing released the scabbard, but lunged for the star and snatched it up.

  In his peripheral Zach saw Danica gather herself up from the ground, run to the sword and pick it up. She ran to her Jeep and started the engine. Zach grabbed Mark by the foot and yanked him hard toward him, then rushed him and rolled over on top of the bastard. As Danica pulled up, Zach pushed off the Immortal and grabbed for the prize.

  Air.

  Santos sprang up with the aplomb of a gazelle, and without looking over his shoulder bolted. Zach snatched the scabbard from the ground and took off after him. Sirens wailed close. Santos pulled away, heading straight for his unmarked car. He’d be on the radio calling in his location and a description of Danica’s Jeep. And there damn sure was no way to explain the two sliced and diced cops.

  Danica pulled up next to Zach as he ran. “Get in!”

  He realized he had no choice. They needed to disappear. And they needed a plan. He dove into the Jeep. She hit the gas, the sound of peeling rubber followed by the inevitable acrid smell launching them like a rocket through the parking lot. Several bullets tore through the canvas top. Zach shoved Danica’s head down as they zigzagged out of the parking lot and onto the main drag.

  In an insane feat, Danica got them back onto 880 headed north.

  Her hands shook on the steering wheel. Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath. Realizing she was in a state of shock, Zach reached over to touch her to comfort her. She jerked her hand away. “Don’t touch me!”

  He looked down at his blood-spattered hand. In as calm a voice as he could manage, he said, “I guess the fact those two thugs were out for my blood doesn’t matter.”

  “They were cops!”

  “Dani—”

  “Don’t Dani me!” Her voice shook in rage and shock. Her body shook, her hands on the steering wheel shook. “You’ve just made me an accessory to murder! Capital murder!” She choked back a sob and s
hook her head. “Oh, my God, what have we done?”

  “They aren’t what they seem.”

  She continued to shake her head, hysteria edging her words. “What are they, Zach? What are you? And why the hell should I believe a word you say?” Her hands shook so hard the Jeep swerved before she righted it.

  Zach put a steady hand on her right arm. “Because you know in your gut this is bigger than both of us. We’re a part of it, a piece of the puzzle.”

  She flung his hand off her arm and abruptly pulled over to the shoulder of the freeway and slammed on the brakes. She pulled the emergency brake and looked at him. Her skin had blanched to white and her eyes were huge dark orbs in her face. She was terrified. “I’m not going another foot until you explain everything to me.”

  Zach looked over his shoulder. “Danica, we can’t stop. We need to get out of here.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance. “Go!” he yelled. She blanched at the force of his words. “I need you with me, Danica, but I can’t force you.”

  He opened the Jeep door. “Stay away from Santos. He’ll use you to get to me.”

  Tears blurred her vision. “That’s bullshit,” she yelled after him. “Everyone knows you hung me out to dry and don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.”

  Zach slammed the door shut. Danica sat stunned. Her body quaked, her brain raced. Confusion confounded her. Desperately she wrestled for a coherent logical thought. Had Zach abandoned her? And what about Mark? He’d tried to kill her!

  She gasped when the driver door opened and Zach shoved her out of her seat. For a moment she wanted to jump out the other side and run to the nearest PD and turn him in. But—she couldn’t. How could she? She’d shot Mark, for God’s sake! He didn’t even bleed. And she knew damn well she hadn’t missed. Even running from him, her aim was true. It was like Mark was hyped up on PCP or something. His adrenaline gave him superstrength. But why the hell had he tried to kill her? Was he afraid she would go back to Zach? No, that was ridiculous. There was more to it. More she didn’t want to know. Her body shook uncontrollably. Something was terribly wrong and she was smack-dab in the middle of it.

  Anger pushed into her fear. Anger at Zach. How had she allowed this to happen? How the hell was she going to get out of this cluster-fuck Zach had got her into?