Big Three-Thriller Bundle Box Collection

by Gordon Kessler

  They hit a small dip in the road and the point of her file poked North’s throat.

  “Hey, ease up with that blade, will you, killer?” he asked.

  She pulled it back and was relieved to see that it had not drawn blood. Still, she rested her hand on his shoulder, the file pointed to his neck. She kept her left hand loose on his left side. She didn’t want to give him the impression that she was getting comfortable.

  “I don’t know what to think about Reeves. He’s slick, though. I know that,” he said over his left shoulder.

  She leaned close with her face just behind his left ear.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I got a look at his personnel file. Then I ran an FBI check on him. He was arrested for murdering his wife, three days after they were married. They couldn’t prove anything, so he was released. That was fifteen years ago.”

  What would North come up with next?

  “I think that’s when he found out.”

  “Found out what?”

  “That he didn’t like women,” North said and swerved around a rock in the road.

  “Don’t tell me. You think he’s gay, too?”

  “No, I mean he hates women. Maybe his mother made him wear girl’s underwear when he was a kid or something. I don’t know why. I just know he really dislikes females.”

  As much as she hated to think, that made some sense as she thought back on the time with Reeves at the Parador de Barcelona and even when she first met him when boarding the ship.

  “What about Chardoff?” she asked.

  “Yeah, he’s dirty. He might be the Chameleon. There’re several others on board, too.”

  “So what exactly is this Chameleon thing? Drugs?”

  “Not even close. Weapons. But I can’t figure out for what purpose. There’s a terrorist group called Allah’s Jihad that’s behind it, that much we know. And, whatever is going on is going to come down fast now. I can tell. There’s a kind of tenseness I feel whenever I’m around Chardoff. It’s like he’s ready to pop.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me sooner and tell me who you were?”

  “To tell you honestly, I was afraid you’d blow everything.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “When you came aboard, you seemed very immature. You showed strong bigotry, and I thought you were a real smart ass. You stuck out like a hard on in boxer shorts, not only being assigned after a suspicious death, but being a woman. Hell, you even acted like an NCIS agent.”

  “Thanks a lot!”

  “Just the facts, ma’am. Now that I’ve had a chance to get to know you a little better, I don’t think you’re as immature as I thought originally. You’re not so much of a smart ass. And, I think you may have even learned a few things to make you less of a bigot. Actually, I kind of like you.”

  Spurs gave a half grin and shook her head. “So what’s the plan, Double-O Seven?”

  “We’ve got to watch Chardoff. Wait for him to make his move. When he does, maybe we’ll catch him taking weapons off the ship, or whatever he’s planning. He may do it when he goes on maneuvers with his recon team and the SEALs.”

  “The Tomahawks?”

  “I don’t see how this could have anything to do with them. They can’t carry those big birds off. I wouldn’t leave anything out, though.”

  “What’s Chardoff doing now?”

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I followed him to the local cat house. He paid for an all-nighter. This is just like any other port. You can get anything you want here. All you have to do is have enough money and look hard enough.”

  Spurs thought of Chardoff’s huge knife and the murdered women. They began to pass houses and businesses of Bizerte as they drove into the edge of town.

  “I’m starved,” North said. “Have you eaten?” “No. Me, too.” “I’ve been here a few times before. I know a great little eating place,” he said as he turned a corner.

  “Lead on, Darren,” Spurs said.

  North smiled.

  Chapter 41

  LIZARD’S MOON

  THE SMALL CAFE was on the corner of a well-lit street, but few people were out as eight o’clock was considered late in this land.

  They walked into a quaint, candle-lit courtyard stopping briefly to allow a small green lizard to scamper from a green shrub across the brick walk in front of them. North stopped at a table, second one in from the wrought iron archway. The place was decorated with potted desert plants and with peppers of different sizes, shapes and colors hung in bunches along the walls. Two old men sat at a table near the far end of the long, narrow courtyard.

  “The air’s fresher out here than inside,” North said, pulling a chair out for Spurs to sit.

  There were no menus at the table and Spurs knew nothing of Mediterranean food. She was just about to ask North what was good when the chubby restaurateur turned from his other patrons to see them sit down.

  “Dare!” he exclaimed as he raked the fingers of one hand through his cropped black hair. He hustled over, wiping his hands on his apron. “It’s been so long. So good to see you,” he blurted out as if there was never enough time to say everything that was on his mind. He took North’s extended hand. “How ‘bout we finish that chess game now.” He pointed to a chessboard half full of tactically positioned chess pieces behind the bar.

  North smiled and looked across the table to Spurs.

  “How about next time in port, Ma’hami,” he said.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Ma’hami turned to Spurs. “Of course you are occupied, and by such a beautiful young woman.” He took Spurs’ hand and kissed it gently. “Please forgive me Miss. . . .”

  “Spurs,” North said before she could answer.

  “Miss Spurs, how interesting. So will you be having Dare’s children soon?”

  She looked at Ma’hami with wide eyes, too stunned to speak. She didn’t know whether to laugh at the joke or be insulted by the presumption.

  Ma’hami turned to North.

  “I did hope you’d marry my daughter, Dare. But why don’t you quit this Navy stuff anyway and come live with us. We still have plenty of room. You and your wife would have your own, private bedroom. But you would have to share our toilet. We are not rich Americans.”

  “We’ll discuss it,” North said and glanced at Spurs.

  “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone and fix your drinks. The usual, Dare?”

  North smiled at Spurs and she nodded back. “Surprise me,” she said.

  “Make it two,” North told Ma’hami. “And while you’re at it, give us a couple of heaping plates of your special hash.” He glanced at Spurs again. “That okay?”

  “Sure,” she said, thankful he’d taken charge. “As hungry as I am, even camel jerky would sound good.”

  “That’s tomorrow’s special,” Ma’hami said. “You’ll like my chicken couscous much better.” The big man then half skipped in excitement to the side door into the diner, but paused at the doorway and looked to the sky. The moon still hung low. From the angle, it was in the center of the entrance archway as if it were a Chinese lantern. It cast long shadows across the bricks.

  “And a big, beautiful, lover’s moon, too,” he exclaimed before going inside. “How romantic!”

  “All right, Dare,” Spurs said, “who is this strange man and why do you call him Mommy?”

  North snorted a laugh. “It’s Muh—hau—me,” he said. “I don’t know how we came to be such good friends. I think he’s lonely and needs some excitement in his life. Whenever I come here, I tell him sea stories and we play chess.”

  “Uh-huh,” Spurs said. “And what about his daughter and should I be jealous since we are lovebirds?”

  “That’s another one I can’t explain. She’s six. He promised her to me when she was born. I’m kind of like her godfather.”

  Spurs laughed and shook her head.

  “I can’t believe you.”

  North’s face straightened.


  “Every word’s the truth,” he said, his eyes giving that patented sparkle again. He smiled. “I’ve never lied to you.”

  He reached over to her side of the table and put his hand on hers.

  She believed him. She turned her hand over and held his.

  “You have strong hands,” she said. “But how were you able to hang on to the helicopter when it rescued us?”

  “I have a lot of hobbies; SCUBA diving, sky diving, flying—and rock climbing.”

  “That brings to mind another question. You saw who threw me overboard, didn’t you?”

  “Not exactly. He had his back to me. I didn’t see his face. I saw someone that was probably six or six one, wearing a black slicker.”

  “That’s it? You’re leaving something out. What?”

  “I saw an Annapolis ring,” North said.

  “That means Goodman.”

  “Or Commander Reeves.”

  “Commander Reeves?” Spurs asked. “I’ve never seen his ring.”

  “Doesn’t wear it often. I heard him say one time that it irritates his finger.”

  Spurs didn’t know whether to hope he was telling the truth or not.

  Ma’hami came back carrying a tray with two tall pink drinks with umbrellas on them.

  “Here we are, Dare,” he said. “Two of the usual Shirley Temples.”

  Spurs and North laughed.

  “Oh, did I get it wrong?” he asked innocently, then uncovered a couple of short mixed drinks. “Well then, try these two whiskey sours and I’ll take the Shirley Temples to the two gentlemen across the room.”

  “Unreal,” Spurs said, recovering from laughter as Ma’hami walked away. She meant North was unreal. He was as different as night and day from what she had originally thought. He somehow even knew what she liked to drink.

  “Yes, he is,” North said, watching Ma’hami leave. Then he turned back to Spurs, still holding her hand. “You are, too.”

  He raised his drink as if to toast.

  “To haze-gray ships, warm Tunisian nights and cowgirls,” he said, squeezing her hand.

  Spurs raised her glass. She’d never told him she was a cowgirl. The only one on the ship that knew that was Reeves. But of course, he had talked to her uncle Paul Royce. She smiled wide.

  She glanced to the large blue-white moon in the archway and saw the little lizard looking back, casting a much bigger shadow from the lunar brightness. Its skin was now brown like the bricks. Its eyes glowed yellow from candlelight.

  “And to lover’s moons and lizards,” she said gazing at North.

  Chapter 42

  TAKING LIBERTY

  MA’HAMI’S SPECIAL HASH of chicken meat, potatoes and mixed vegetables was good and filling, the night remained beautiful, and Spurs felt drawn into North’s spell.

  They’d had an assortment of hot peppers, sampled at Ma’hami’s pleading and drank another two whiskey sours to cool their tongues. The old men had left the courtyard and Ma’hami had gone inside to close up and leave the two of them alone.

  Spurs’ cheeks ached from the laughter, more than she could recall in recent years. She wished to be away from this place—no not this place, but away from the rest of the world, the Navy, the investigation that grew more complex by the minute.

  North had just finished telling her about his Aunt Jean in South Carolina, who still lived in a dirt floor cabin, chewed tobacco and wore overalls and boots. Her hobbies were macramé and alligator poaching.

  When the laughter settled into broad smiles, they looked into each other’s eyes and leaned close across the small table separating them.

  “How about taking a couple hours off from this case tomorrow and do some horseback riding?” North asked.

  It was a surprise to Spurs. “No, don’t tell me. Darren North, a cowboy?”

  “Not exactly,” he said. “More a farm boy.”

  “That’s even more of a shock! A farm? You?”

  “Yep. Born and raised on a farm near Wichita, Kansas. Anyway, Ma’hami has some great Arabians. Whadaya say?”

  “Hmm,” She said with a smirk. She toyed with a plump, heart shaped red pepper, about the size of a quarter. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Holding onto its stem, she brought the pepper up to North’s lips and rubbed it against them.

  While gazing at Spurs, he licked the pepper sensuously and then took it into his mouth and suckled on it.

  She pulled it out but he took it again.

  He brought his hand up and took hers, pulling the pepper from his mouth and moving her hand over to her lips.

  She took the pepper in and played with it, swirling around it with her tongue.

  He pulled on it but she wouldn’t let go, nursing on the small spicy fruit. Finally he pulled hard enough and the stem popped off. They chuckled softly.

  She tongued the pepper up between her teeth and held it waiting.

  Music came from the café and North glanced toward it. When Spurs looked, she saw Ma’hami standing in the doorway next to a phonograph. His hands were on his hips, and a smile broader and with more teeth than she thought was possible on a human being spread across his face.

  It was tango music.

  North drew his face near hers, their hands holding in a finger lock. He pulled her up from her chair and out into a section of the floor clear of the tables. Before she knew what was happening, they were strutting across the bricks, the side of her face against his chest, his head angled slightly to hers in an attempt to compensate for their difference in height. He was very light on his feet.

  At first, Spurs felt her clumsiness. She’d never tangoed before. But somehow, North’s obvious adeptness kept her stepping lively and made her feel as if she were gliding, thoughtlessly.

  Spurs had forgotten about the pepper, her head swimming in the middle of all this. She only realized the thing was still clenched between her teeth when, after about the fifth turn and second spin, North faced her. He opened his mouth baring his teeth and placed them gently on the pepper, their lips touching. They lingered, finally drawing into a kiss, both biting into the pepper as they closed their eyes. Their kiss was passionate, long, wet, and—HOT!

  Their eyes snapped open simultaneously. The mean little pepper erupted a hell’s fire in Spurs’ mouth. She whimpered. They loosened from their embrace and went for their table and the ice left in their drinks, at first complaining in whines then once again succumbing to laughter.

  Taking a moment to recover from the pepper while standing at the table, they drew near again, but before their lips touched, the sound of a jeep pulling up came from the archway and two shore patrolmen jogged through.

  “We finally found you,” said the first large sailor. He wore a grey helmet. It had a horizontal, wide white band interrupted by a large SP on the front.

  “What’s up?” North asked.

  “Liberty’s cancelled,” the big sailor said. “Everyone’s to report back to their ships. There’re only you two and a couple more left out.”

  “Why?” North asked.

  “We’re on alert. Something about one of our embassies somewhere in Africa. It’s under siege.”

  The needle on the phonograph scratched loudly across the record.

  Chapter 43

  SMALL THINGS

  CAPTAIN R. D. CHARDOFF was as impatient as he was intolerant at times. Intolerant of weaklings, small things that had no purpose and got in the way.

  The small brown lizard attempted to escape from his path in the archway of Ma’hami’s patio, but Chardoff’s enormous foot hurried to stomp it. He twisted his toe to make sure the job was complete.

  The cafe patio was empty. The clatter of dishes being washed and someone singing If I Were A Rich Man came from inside.

  The shore patrol had said North and Sperling had been here. Said something about them not going directly to the ship. He had to catch them before they reported in. It would be much easier to dispose of them here in Bizerte than on the ship. They
were about to cause trouble, to mess up his plans.

  The Marine Corps hadn’t given him many opportunities. It sure as hell wasn’t going to make him a rich man. He’d have to do that on his own. He had been busted down from major. He’d never see a promotion again. They said he was too brash, too hard on his men. And there were the three reprimands marring his record for “accidents” in which some of his men had gotten hurt during different training exercises. He’d told his superiors the truth. They had been “punished” for not being able to pull their own weight. They called it “beating up,” but officially recorded each incident as “training accidents during which time Captain R. D. Chardoff had been the officer in charge and therefore responsible.”

  The Corps had become weak. America had become weak. He wanted to be on the winning team— the one that paid the best.

  Chardoff stepped to the door of the cafe and drew out his huge K-bar knife. It had five marks etched into the blade near the handle. In a few seconds there would be another.

  The man inside the restaurant might know where North and Sperling went. If he knew and told Chardoff, he’d kill the man for being weak. If the man didn’t know where they were, he’d kill him for being ignorant.

  Chapter 44

  DESERT STREETS

  NORTH AND SPURS took the Moped back to the bicycle peddler North had rented it from. The shop was only four blocks from the pier and the only shop open so late. The proprietor was probably waiting for the cycle’s return before closing.

  The call of nature, encouraged by the four Scotch and waters, insisted Spurs ask for the restroom. North waited out front.

  Spurs wasn’t pleased when she stepped behind the curtain and found a straddle trench.