by Blake Dixon
Garrett Kane sat on a metal shelf mounted to the right side wall, staring across the cell at nothing. A ‘bed’ with no mattress, one stained wafer-thin pillow, and one ragged flannel sheet. He wore threadbare scrub pants torn away at mid-shin and nothing else. Liberally streaked with filth, he was bruised, bloodied, and heavily scarred. Especially on his back.
Despite the damage, his body was still toned to almost machine precision. Jude had a horrified suspicion that he used the suspended rod to stay in shape — when he wasn’t being chained to it and beaten.
“If I knew I’d have company today, I would have tidied up. You’ll have to forgive me. It’s the maid’s day off.” Kane turned his head and met Jude’s stare with blazing, ice-blue eyes. “Hello, Wyland,” he said. “Believe me, I’m surprised on the inside.”
“Kane.” He wasn’t sure he could speak until the word emerged. But it was the only one he managed.
Kane sighed, gripped the edges of the metal shelf and pushed himself up. The chains scraped along cement as he moved toward the cell bars and stopped just inside them. “Allow me to put words in your mouth,” he said. “You are shocked and disgusted by the conditions in this facility, and you will definitely ram a sternly worded complaint up the command chain. This will accomplish fuck-all, but your conscience will be cleared. You wish me the best, and hang in there, soldier.” His jaw twitched. “Are we done?”
Jude’s tongue finally loosened, and he pulled the folded paper from inside his jacket. “This is a provisional executive release from Director Rubin,” he said. “You’re coming to Virginia with me to save a little girl.”
Chapter Fifteen
Kane stared at him. “A little girl,” he repeated, as if the words were sour in his mouth. “Have you met me, Wyland?”
He ignored the caustic tone. “Her name is Valerie Noakes,” he said. “District attorney’s daughter. Five years old. She’s been kidnapped, her life is on a deadline, and we’re fairly sure the Black Strings are involved somehow.”
“The Black Strings. You want me to—” He broke off, and a harsh peal of laughter escaped him. “You know what? Don’t do me any favors. I’m fine right here.”
“I’m not doing this for you.”
“Oh, don’t I know it.” Kane’s tone could have withered solid granite. “So you take me to Virginia on a leash and kick me in with the mercs again. Maybe I find this kid, maybe not. And then what?” He took a step closer. “Rubin pins me with a Congressional medal? Hell, maybe I’ll even get a parade.” One hand shot out to fist around a bar. “Or maybe I get shipped back here to rot. Tell me when I’m getting warm.”
Jude couldn’t bring himself to confirm that. “You’re it,” he said. “Our last chance to save the girl. And you’re coming back with me, like it or not.”
The movement was so fast, he didn’t see it coming until Kane’s fist slammed the bars, hard enough to split a knuckle and rattle the entire wall. “Fuck you, Wyland,” he spat, and then pivoted away. “Fair warning,” he said with his back turned. “You take me out of here, you’re a dead man. I will ghost you, and I will burn down everything you stand for on the way.”
Bile rose in his throat with a clear view of the damage to Kane’s back. He couldn’t even imagine the twisted reasoning behind the man’s desire to stay here, to not take any opportunity that would get him the hell out. But damn it, he hadn’t come all this way to go back empty-handed.
Finally, he said, “You owe me, Kane.”
There was a long silence — and then, the most chilling laughter he’d ever heard. “That’s right. Because of your dearly departed partner. I mean the other one, besides me.” He turned back with a sickening grin. “Sorry about … what was her name again? I’ve killed so many people, I have trouble keeping them straight sometimes.”
He wouldn’t dignify that with a response. “Now I remember why I hate you.”
“About damned time. So get out of my life, will you?”
“Not a chance,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”
Kane said nothing.
He walked to the intercom, buzzed the guards and told them to come in. When he turned back to the cage, all of the other man’s dark sarcasm was gone. Cold fury had taken its place. “If I didn’t know what a boy scout you are, I’d think you were enjoying this,” Kane said.
He sneered. The boy scout thing came from the Maryland job, the one that ended their partnership permanently. “Refusing to kill a defenseless man doesn’t make me a boy scout.”
“Uh-huh. And killing him anyway doesn’t make me a monster, right?”
Before Jude could respond to that, the steel door clanked open and guard number two walked in with a set of heavy-duty handcuffs. “All right, Kane,” he said. “You know what to do, and you know where we’re going. Down, boy.”
“Oh, look. It’s Edgar.” Kane was already turning away, shuffling back to press against the bars. He went down on his knees and planted the soles of his feet, black with filth, in the spaces between. “Edgar and I share a special bond,” he said. “Isn’t that right, Edgar?”
“Keep talking. See what happens.”
“Anything you say, Edgar.”
The guard unlocked and opened a sliding panel in the barred door at just below waist height. Kane threaded his hands through, and Edgar cinched the cuffs on tight. Then he grabbed a ring of keys, reached between the bars and released the ankle manacles, one at a time. Kane stood, shuffling away without prompting, and Edgar opened the door and hauled him out.
“Wait here,” the guard said to Jude. “We’ll just be a minute.”
“Oh, Edgar. You’re missing another opportunity.” Kane fixed the guard with a smile. “This is the perfect time to sucker-punch me and show your guest who’s in charge around here. Really, do I have to think of everything?”
Before Jude could blink, the guard’s fist rammed the helpless man’s gut, doubling him over with a harsh bark of air. “Hey, you’re right,” Edgar said. “That was a good opportunity.”
“What the hell’s with you?” Jude half-shouted. “You can’t—”
“Zip it, Boy Scout,” Kane gasped as he straightened. Without another word, he staggered around and headed deeper into the wing. “Come on, Edgar. Clock’s ticking.”
The guard followed him. “Stay here,” he said again over his shoulder.
Jude decided to take the advice.
The two of them turned left at the end of a short corridor between other solitary cells. The sound of footsteps changed from dull slaps to hollow echoes. There was a bit of shuffling, a single cough. Something squealed briefly. Then a loud hissing sound like the roar of a waterfall, underscored with spattering water and barely contained shouts.
It sounded like the guard had turned a fire hose on him full-blast.
A long three minutes later, the sounds stopped. Now there was only coughing. Two minutes more and Kane appeared at the back of the corridor, moving stiffly toward him with Edgar close behind. Still handcuffed, utterly drenched. Completely naked.
Jude held his tongue until they reached him. Kane was shivering, his skin tinged blue where it wasn’t damaged, with multiple cuts and fresher scars standing out in livid red. The bruising was a lot more evident now, too. Some of it indicated broken ribs. He tossed his head to clear the ragged curtain of dark, dripping hair from his eyes and heaved a shuddering breath. “Thanks for the bonus shower, Edgar,” he said. “I know it can’t be Sunday yet.”
If Jude let himself act on what he was feeling at the moment, there would be a dead body in this room. And it wouldn’t be Kane. “Get him some clothes,” he said tightly. “Right fucking now.”
“Here you go.” The voice just behind him was the first guard, holding a pile of folded fabric. Dark blue scrubs. At least they were clean. “Who wants to dress him?”
“He’s going to dress himself.” Jude sent a cold stare at Edgar. “Take the cuffs off.”
“Not a chance, pal.”
Jude lung
ed at him, grabbed the guard’s shirt front and yanked him forward until his feet barely touched the ground. “Take. Them. Off.”
“Just do it, Edgar,” the first guard said with a hint of alarm. “We have to surrender control of the prisoner. Kane is officially his problem.”
“Fine,” Edgar sputtered. “Fine, just let the fuck go.”
Jude released him with a hard shove that nearly sent him sprawling.
When the handcuffs came off, Kane lowered his arms slowly and put the scrubs on without a word. They hadn’t given him socks or shoes, and he didn’t ask for them. He adjusted the pants slightly, ran a hand through his soaked hair and looked at Jude. “You’re my superior now, right?” he said. “You’re responsible for my actions.”
“Correct.”
“Oh. Good.” With an almost imperceptible smile, he turned to face the second guard. “Sorry, Edgar. This is all Wyland’s fault.”
The closed fist to Edgar’s jaw spun him halfway around and dropped him face-first on the cement floor.
Kane nodded once. “Right,” he said. “Let’s go to Virginia.”
Chapter Sixteen
Garrett Kane didn’t even look at Natalie. When they boarded the Gulfstream he went straight to the back of the plane, dropped onto one of the lounges and passed out.
And Jude didn’t try to offer an explanation. She looked at him, he looked back, they both sat and waited for takeoff. At least she seemed to understand that the experience had taken a lot out of him.
Not nearly as much as it took out of Kane, though.
He didn’t have time to wonder if he’d made a mistake. Whether Kane cooperated with the investigation or not, getting him out of the hotbox was the right thing to do. And bringing him back like Ray wanted him to — well, he’d worry about sailing that ship once they made it to port.
Deciding he should probably stay close to Kane, Jude settled back in at the table directly in front of the lounge where his charge, or whatever he was, slept. They were halfway through the return flight when Natalie wandered back from dozing in one of the forward chairs to join him. “You told him about the mission?” she said.
“I did.” He glanced back at Kane. Still unconscious. “He’s not that interested in helping.”
“But he will,” she said. “Right?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re not—” She broke off and narrowed her eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You don’t think he’ll help, but you got him released anyway?” she said. “Look, I might’ve sounded like it wasn’t a big deal before, but this guy actually is dangerous. I’ve seen some of the reports. He’s a monster. If he’s not on board, he shouldn’t even be here.”
“She’s right, Wyland. You should turn around and take me back.”
Jude flinched inwardly at the sound of the still-raw voice. Though he couldn’t see behind him, Natalie’s reaction said that Kane was fully conscious and had probably heard every word of that. “I didn’t mean…” she stammered.
“Yes. You did.”
Jude turned to look. Kane was sitting up, facing the lounge on the other side of the aisle. Now that he was drying out, he looked even worse. “I’m not taking you back,” he said, attempting to sound calm. “You know that.”
Kane snorted. “Message received. I just hope you got mine.” He pushed to his feet, wavered in place and took an unsteady step or two before his gait smoothed to a slow trudge. “If I recall correctly, they keep the good shit in there,” he said as he headed across the aisle to the executive center. He opened the mini-fridge, reached in and extracted a half-size bottle of Chivas Regal. “Ah, yes. I do recall correctly.”
Natalie, who’d been watching him in stunned silence, finally found her voice when he made his way to the other table and sat down. “I really am sorry,” she said.
He looked at her. “We haven’t been introduced,” he said, extending a hand across the aisle. “Hello. I’m the monster.”
“Kane.” Jude pushed a warning into his tone.
“No, it’s fine. I deserved that.” Natalie shook with him. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m the bitch.”
Kane smiled coldly until she released him. “It’s good to know the Agency still hires women who wish they had balls,” he said.
“Well, I guess some things never change. They also still fire men who can’t stop dragging their knuckles on the ground.”
Jude cleared his throat. “Garrett Kane, Natalie Moore,” he said.
“Charmed.” Kane lifted the bottle in a mock salute, and then went to work on the seal.
“Hold on, Kane,” Jude said. “If you’re going to drink all that Scotch, you should eat something first. I doubt they let you have booze back there. Plenty of food in the fridge.”
The look Kane gave him was borderline incredulous. “Eat something,” he said. “Sure. Long as your girlfriend there is willing to play stewardess and scrub vomit out of this fine plush carpet once I go off the end-to-end liquid diet. Matter of fact, sweetheart, why don’t you get up and fix me a steak?”
Natalie flushed. “Do you think you could be a little more condescending?”
“No, he’s right,” Jude said, horrified all over again as the full meaning of his earlier remark about ‘feeding time’ became clear. “Not about the steak or the sexist crap. But he shouldn’t eat anything right now.”
“Sure. Because you’ve been locked up, so now you deserve to get drunk.”
“Speaking your mind is a bad habit,” Kane said in bland tones. “Actually, Agent Moore, it’s because they don’t feed me by mouth all that often. Not to put too fine a point on it, they prefer the other end.”
Her flush deepened, and she looked away fast.
“Are we done getting to know each other now?”
In response, Natalie lurched from the table and made a beeline for the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind her.
Kane shrugged. He gave the bottle cap a sharp twist, ripped the cork out with his teeth and spat it on the table, then took a long drink. He only coughed once when he lowered the bottle. “Well, Boy Scout,” he said. “What are you planning to do with me, since I’m not going to help you find this kid? Got a nice, cozy cell with my name on it where I can regret my decision until you bring me back? I hear the hotbox at Quantico serves real cheese whiz on their shit sandwiches.”
Jude looked at him for a long moment. “For now, you’re coming home with me. We’ll figure out the rest in the morning.”
Kane’s eyes widened a fraction, but he made the surprise disappear fast. “You won’t make it that long,” he said. “When I told you what would happen if you took me out of there, it wasn’t a bluff.”
“We’ll see.”
“You won’t.” Kane shook his head and took another belt of Scotch. This one made him shudder. “You know me, Wyland. You’ll never see me coming.”
“Honestly, Kane, I don’t think I have to. You won’t come for me.”
“Huh.” A wicked smile arranged itself on his lips. “Maybe you don’t know me, after all.”
Jude ignored the remark. He’d already decided to take his chances, to believe the Garrett Kane he’d known was still in there somewhere. Deeply flawed, maybe a little excessively bloodthirsty when it came to taking down bad guys, but a decent human being. A good partner. And if he was wrong … well, Kane wasn’t lying about that. He’d never see him coming.
So at least he’d be dead before he could regret this.
Chapter Seventeen
Once they’d hit the airfield at Langley, Jude had fired off a terse text to Ray: I’m back. Kane is with me. That’s all the report you’re getting. He was still furious about being reactivated, but at least the son of a bitch had no way to make it stick once this was over.
Unless he fucked up. And he was beginning to think he might do that. On purpose.
A still-shaken Natalie had left in her car, muttering something about probably seeing him at the office tomorrow. And true to
his word, Jude took Kane to his place.
Home was a three-bedroom, two-bath ranch style house on the bay with a dock for his stupid fishing boat and a two-car garage he never parked in, since he’d converted the space into a workstation of sorts for the P.I. business. He’d pulled into the driveway a little after three in the morning, woke Kane and got him to stagger inside, and led him to the guest bedroom with the attached bath. The man was unconscious before he closed the door.
He could’ve locked him in there. He didn’t for two reasons. One, if Garrett Kane wanted out of something as simple as a locked bedroom, there were a hundred ways he could do it.
And two, he needed his ex-partner to trust him.
Eventually he settled on the couch with a beer and turned on Netflix, not expecting to sleep tonight with Kane in the house. Decision made or not, he knew the man was more than capable of killing him if he felt like it. At least he’d have a chance if he was awake.
Next thing he knew, the daily 6 a.m. alarm on his phone woke him to sunlight outside the windows.
Sleep sloughed from him like worn snakeskin and he bolted upright on the couch. Still alive. At least that was something. He listened to the house around him — the steady sigh of air from the window A/C, the hum of the refrigerator, the faint ticking of the kitchen wall clock. Silence from the guest bedroom. He got up and headed that way with no idea what he’d find.
Inside, the bed was empty. There was a pillow and a rumpled blanket on the floor next to it. And no sign of Kane.
Jude tensed and reached for the gun he’d never taken off last night. After a moment, he heard a flush. His body stood down as the bathroom door opened and a shirtless Kane emerged. “Relax, Boy Scout. Just taking a piss,” he said without looking over. “You’re lucky I remember how a toilet works.”