Option to Kill (Nathan McBride 3)

by Andrew Peterson

  “If I thought it would do any good…”

  “We’re heading to La Jolla for a change of clothes. We’re both trashed.”

  “Last I checked, you don’t have any twelve-year-old girls’ attire in your closet, unless there’s something you haven’t told me.”

  Lauren smiled at the lighthearted comment.

  “Cute, Harv. We’ll wash them. There’s something I didn’t mention when we had Holly on the three-way call. I confiscated a cell phone from the gunman at the grocery store. I haven’t had a chance to look through it, but I will once we arrive at the house.”

  “It might be a throwaway, but it might contain texts or other frequently called numbers we can trace.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Holly about it?”

  “Because her people will want it right away. And I don’t want to give it up until I’ve had a chance to go through it myself.”

  “I agree with you keeping it, at least for now.”

  “I’m still uncomfortable not telling her about it.”

  “Hey, the FBI doesn’t tell us everything they’re doing.”

  “The next time we talk, I’m telling her I have it.”

  “Put it in your mailbox at the street after you’ve looked through it. They can pick it up at their convenience. Update me when you get to La Jolla. My flight doesn’t leave for…three more hours.”

  “Have you told Candace about Lauren?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’d she say?”

  “She said you’ll make a good uncle. Now, will you please try to avoid more gunplay?”

  “For you, Harv, anything…” Nathan signed off and pocketed his cell.

  “I like Harv. He sounds like a nice man.”

  “He’s superprotective of me, overly at times. Are you okay looking at the passports?”

  “I guess.”

  He dug them out of his pocket. “See if you recognize any of the faces.”

  She stared at the fourth one. “This is the girl I saw.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s her name.”

  “Margarita Gutierrez.”

  Nathan wondered why Voda or Marchand had kept the girl’s passport. The same question applied to all the others. Why keep them unless they planned to reuse them? Voda might choose girls based on their likeness to these photos. If so, how many additional girls did Voda plan to murder? Nathan felt something else was at play. If all Voda wanted were victims to feed his twisted habit, there was an endless supply of illegals coming across the border. Holly had mentioned Voda’s ties with professional coyotes. He didn’t think coyotes needed passports for anyone. Not only that, but the vast majority of illegals were men seeking work. He didn’t know how many families attempted to cross the border together but believed it wasn’t too commonplace. Maybe Voda had some kind of human-trafficking thing going and he skimmed off the top for his own pleasure. If so, there could be dozens of young girls at risk.

  “Do you recognize any of the others? Look for someone with the last name of Hernandez.” It was the surname atop the typed list of numbers.

  “I don’t see that name. They all look so sad. Are all of these girls dead?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I wish there weren’t bad people in the world.”

  “Me too.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Lauren was close to dozing off. Her comment about bad people wasn’t naive, just reflective of her age. Nathan’s resentment and anger flared at Voda for terrorizing her. She was just a kid and didn’t deserve any of this. Again, he marveled at her resiliency. Considering everything they’d been through, she seemed remarkably poised. He gave a tiny portion of the credit to himself, knowing she’d tapped into his composed nature. Overall, he had no complaints.

  Without his shirt, Nathan felt a little chilled, so he adjusted the temperature. Scrolling through his cell’s log, he found Jin’s number and made the call. He hadn’t expected an answer and didn’t get one. He let it ring ten times before giving up. If Jin’s call had originated from a cellular carrier, it should’ve forwarded to voice mail. He pictured an isolated pay phone ringing into the night somewhere. For now, it seemed she would have to be the one to initiate any additional contact.

  Thinking about Jin was a stark reminder he needed to call his father. Sooner or later, he’d have to break the news. He glanced at his watch — just after 2300, making it 0200 in Washington. There was no sense calling his dad in the middle of the night. Although the startling news of a long-lost Korean daughter warranted a wake-up call, he thought it could wait. After sixty years, what was five more hours? Besides, Nathan knew how he’d feel if the situation were reversed. He wouldn’t want a midnight call from his dad telling him he had a teenage son or daughter. Good luck falling back asleep after hearing that.

  He also owed Voda another call. After their initial call, which Holly had recorded, Nathan had told Voda he’d call him back. Voda…What kind of person could murder a young girl like Lauren? Not only murder her, but do unspeakable evil first. Did he feel no guilt? No shame? Was it arrogance? Smug superiority? What drove the guy? It had to be insanity, but Nathan knew not all killers were technically insane. Some of them simply enjoyed violence, enjoyed torturing and killing. He’d had this discussion with Holly several times, and although she’d tried to explain it, he just didn’t get it.

  Despite what he used to do for a living, he didn’t consider himself a cold-blooded killer. Yes, he’d been a sniper, but he’d always believed the kills he and Harv made were both supportable and warranted. They’d saved countless innocent lives. Was the death of one evil person worth the lives of ten good people? Was that a fair trade? Perhaps it defined what snipers do: trade lives.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Huh?”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  “It’s kinda personal, but if you must know, I was thinking about killing Voda.”

  “I’ve thought about it too. Is that bad?”

  “For someone your age, I’d have to say…maybe.”

  They drove in silence for a while.

  “Nathan, do you believe in evil?”

  “You mean theologically?”

  “I guess.”

  “Then yes, I believe in evil. There are dark forces working in direct opposition to God.”

  “Is it hard being religious — you know, like being a Christian?”

  “I can’t speak for anyone else, but to answer your question…yes.”

  “Was Voda going to kill me?”

  “Yes.”

  “And do other things too?”

  He took a deep breath. “Yes.”

  “I’m glad you saved me.”

  “Try not to think about it.”

  “It’s hard not to.”

  “Do you know what intangible means?”

  “No.”

  “It refers to something we can’t understand. The circumstances that brought you into my life, and me into yours, are intangible. Think about it. If you take one thing from our pasts and change it, a completely different outcome happens. Look at tonight’s events. If I had waited one extra minute to respond to your texts, I may not have seen the black SUV leaving the Exxon station. I could’ve arrived after you were gone and just driven home. In truth, that’s nearly what happened. Think about our close call with the security patrol at the warehouse. If he’d seen us hiding in the backseat, a new set of variables would’ve been in play. The security guard driving that vehicle didn’t know our situation. All he would’ve seen was a grown man and a twelve-year-old girl lying down in the backseat of a car together. Since we didn’t look homeless, he would’ve been suspicious and might’ve called the police. When you broke my concentration, I was formulating a plan based on what the security guard did or didn’t do. I call them if-then scenarios. If the security guard does this, then I’ll do that. And each if-then event trigger
s another, and another. It’s a chain that contains a vast number of possibilities based on the original, triggering event. After you sent me the text, a chain of events unfolded that led to us being together. In a visual way, think about the shape of a pyramid. The triggering event is the top, and the base represents all the possible outcomes. The height of the pyramid represents the length of time since the triggering event.”

  “So if you’d been in the bathroom when I sent the text, you may not have seen it in time to rescue me?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly right. I usually take my cell in there, but I don’t always. I could’ve been at my Clairemont house, rather than La Jolla, and I never would’ve arrived in time. I used the word intangible because it describes the concept of causation or causality from a human perspective. We’ll never know why things unfold they way they do. Personally, I don’t think we’re meant to. Do you know where I’m going with this?”

  “Perfectly — you’re trying to distract me from thinking about Voda.”

  He tried not to smile. “Everything I said is true. A complex chain of events is fluid in nature and can’t be predicted with certainty. Jeff Goldblum plays a character in Jurassic Park who talked about this.”

  “I like that movie.”

  “Me too. Changing the subject, I have a live-in housekeeper who takes care of my La Jolla home. Her name’s Angelica. She stays in a separate area of the house. We don’t want to wake her, so we’ll need to be kinda quiet once we arrive. I’ll need to imprint you to my dogs.”

  “Imprint me?”

  “My two giant schnauzers are personal protection dogs.”

  “You mean, like guard dogs?”

  “Yes.”

  “They won’t bite?”

  “No. Since we’ll be driving up in an unfamiliar vehicle, they won’t let us get out until they identify me. They’ll also bark, which reminds me — I’d better call Angelica and let her know we’re coming.”

  “Why do you need guard dogs?”

  “Let’s just say I have a colorful past.”

  “With lots of red.”

  “Time to change the subject again.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Especially if you have nothing to tell.”

  “I thought we trusted each other.”

  “Lauren, it’s not an issue of trust.”

  “Your past is supersecret? You could get in trouble if you told?”

  “I’m sorry, Senator, I have no recollection of that.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means you’re asking me something I’m not going to answer.”

  “Okay, okay. I get it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Chapter 17

  At the privacy gate to his La Jolla home, Nathan pressed a forefinger onto the security keypad and the gate rolled open. Halfway up the steep driveway, two dark forms bounded toward them and challenged their intrusion. The dogs barked and snarled, blocking their way.

  Nathan rolled the window down a few inches and yelled his command word. “Cope!”

  They stopped barking and cautiously approached the driver’s-side door. He rolled the window down the rest of the way and extended his arm. “Good boys. I’m really glad to see you guys.” Their docked tails wagging, both dogs approached and sniffed his hand.

  That’s when he saw it.

  A tightly folded piece of paper was stapled to Grant’s collar.

  “What the hell…”

  He put the Taurus in park, grabbed his SIG, and slid out. He pulled the paper free and said, “Grant, Sherman. Search!”

  The giant schnauzers ran up the driveway and disappeared from sight.

  “What’s going on? What’s that piece of paper?”

  “Shh…” He pocketed the note and crouched next to the open door. “Hand me one of the NV scopes. They’re in the duffel. Backseat.” A few seconds later, he had the device secured on his head with maximum gain. “Wait here. Don’t make a sound.”

  Scanning the landscaping along his driveway, he hustled toward the house but stopped short of losing sight of the Taurus. One thing was certain: Angelica hadn’t attached the note to Grant’s collar. She’d never done that, and never would. He ducked behind an oleander and waited. The stapled piece of paper worried him. His dogs were well trained. Grant and Sherman would never allow anyone to approach them without issuing the command word, cope, and no one besides Harv or Angelica should know that word. Restraining poles wouldn’t work, because the dogs were conditioned not to approach strangers for just that reason. They also wouldn’t eat anything strangers offered them, so they couldn’t have been drugged. Someone either knew his command word or had used a tranquilizer gun. Nothing else short of killing them would’ve worked. At this point, he felt relieved they weren’t dead.

  Nathan wanted to read the note, but right now he needed to stay alert until his dogs finished their reconnaissance. If they detected anyone inside the property, they wouldn’t attack, but they’d raise hell. So far, all was silent. He’d give them a little more time before whistling them back to his position. He looked down the driveway and saw Lauren sitting in the Taurus. Not surprisingly, she had an NV scope up to her eye. He gave her a wave and she waved back. He also gave her the “hold position” hand signal. Until he knew his property was clear, he didn’t want her out of the vehicle.

  In the green image of his NV, he saw them appear at the top of the driveway and trot down. “Good boys.”

  Confident there weren’t any intruders present, he returned to the Taurus.

  Lauren looked concerned. “What’s that folded paper?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Aren’t you curious?”

  He was, intensely. “It can wait. Let’s get situated inside first.”

  When they crested the driveway, Lauren said, “Oh, no way! You do not live here!”

  “You’re right. I spend most of my time at the Clairemont house.”

  His multistory home looked like it was carved into the hillside. Designed to take maximum advantage of the view overlooking La Jolla Shores, it featured wedge-shaped elements that were stacked atop one another in a random yet structured way. Low roof angles and extended overhangs gave it a Frank Lloyd Wright feel.

  “This house is awesome. You’re rich, aren’t you?”

  “To quote someone I know, ‘you’re aren’t supposed to ask that.’”

  “Are those cannons real?”

  “The barrels are real. They’re working replicas of Napoleon twelve-pounders used during the Civil War.” Mounted on square pedestals, the two cannons held flanking positions on either side of the front door and appeared to be guarding the entrance.

  He killed the engine.

  Grant and Sherman stood next to the Taurus, tails wagging.

  “You can get out. They won’t hurt you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  They approached her cautiously. She drew her arms against her chest.

  “You haven’t been around dogs much.”

  “We never had a dog. My mom doesn’t like them.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know. She just doesn’t.”

  “They aren’t going to bite. Hold your hand out, palm up.”

  They both sniffed her. She smiled and petted Grant’s head.

  “See, you still have all your fingers.”

  “They seem nice.”

  Nathan was about to reach for his keys but realized he didn’t have them. “Wait here. I need to grab my spare key. I’ll be back in under a minute. Grant. Sherman. Stay.” He felt confident they were alone, but kept alert anyway. He jogged across the driveway toward the garage. He stole a look over his shoulder. Lauren seemed intrigued by the dogs and was using both hands to pet them. Dogs and kids were a good match.

  Once out of sight, he pulled the folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it under a solar-powered landscaping light. He felt something taped to t
he back and found an old, tarnished dog tag. He’d look at it later.

  Nathan:

  This must seem unfair, but I don’t apologize for placing Lauren in your care. She’s no longer safe with me. Voda’s back in town, but at least if he captures me, I won’t be able to tell him where she is, even under duress. I’m going after him. Either he lives or I do, but not both. As long as Voda’s alive, Lauren will never be safe. I can’t tell you more, but I’m paying back an old debt. I could run, but it’s not the life I want for Lauren. She’s a good kid with a kind heart. She deserves a structured and stable life. You have no children, so she’s the last of our family’s bloodline. Only one other person in the world knew about our father, and he took the secret to his grave. He was a powerful yet kind man who cared for my mother over the years and reunited us just before she died. Lauren is his child, but she has her grandfather’s eyes, and yours. This dog tag is the only evidence my mother ever existed. I want you to have it. The proof of my identity is on the back. I never knew my mother. I was taken at birth as a GI baby and grew up in a North Korean orphanage. Her name was Han Choon-Hee. She loved our father, and it broke her heart never seeing him again. Our father doesn’t know about me. My mother had no way to contact him. You’ll have to decide if you tell him or not, but if you do, it must be kept secret. If Voda ever discovers Lauren’s true identity, he’ll use her to create a scandal, or worse.

  The piece of paper Lauren has is somehow crucial to Voda’s operations, and he’ll stop at nothing to recover it. Voda thinks I have it, and I’m going to use that to bait a trap. Before Voda murdered him, Malcolm told me another young girl is in immediate danger, but I don’t know more than that. Malcolm wasn’t a bad man. He loved Lauren and was a good stepdad. The lure of easy money and a life of luxury sucked Malcolm into Voda’s world, and before he knew it, Voda owned him. Many times he wanted out, but Voda threatened to kill me and Lauren. There’s only one way out of Voda’s world. After Lauren told me about the murdered girl, I told Malcolm to run and never look back, but Voda already had him. He tortured Malcolm for hours before killing him. I won’t be able to help you again. As long as Voda’s pursuing me, you and Lauren will be safe. Keep her with you and never let her out of your sight. She’s headstrong and stubborn, so you’ll have to be firm with her.