She withdrew one hand, wrapped her arm around him, and held him tight. Aaron returned her embrace before pulling the covers up over her shoulder. He kissed her forehead and nestled his head into the pillow. She tucked her head in underneath his chin.
“It’s still a struggle. Sometimes it scares me,” he added. “I know what I was trained to do. I know what I can do. But I do have the choice in how I use that. So I do the best I can with it. Try to help people…”
They lay silent for a time, content in each other’s touch.
“Aaron?”
“Mmm?”
“You’re a good man. Always know that’s what I think of you.”
He didn’t say a word but tightened his grip on her, the hug for a moment so firm that she almost couldn’t breathe.
A few more weeks of training, planning, and surveillance. They were as ready as they could be for the engagement. Chatter indicated Essex’s patience had worn down to a disturbing level at what seemed to him to be the unnatural disappearance of his quarry.
Andy took Alex along on a shopping trip and dropped her off at the nearby town’s coffee shop.
“Wait fifteen minutes, then put the battery back in, plug in the charger, and call. Grab a coffee or something while you’re waiting. I’ll see ya back at base.”
“Definitely my plan on the coffee. Thanks, Gamer.” Alex gave him a quick hug and exited the car.
After a short wait at the counter for her order, Alex casually glanced around at the few patrons and scoped out a seat. Not a busy establishment during midmorning. Roast and the bready scent of pastries permeated the shop, providing a warm and inviting aroma. Mocha at last in hand, she made her way to a wall booth with a window, an outlet, and a decent view of the front door.
Time crept by, feeling at a veritable standstill. Playing over the details of the plan in her head, she prayed it would all work out. Such a dangerous position they were now in. Would the lackeys follow her? Or Essex himself? If so, they would in all likelihood be sealing their own fates. But the alternative of them out in the world, continuing to harm and murder others, was worse. Plus it would be their choice, Essex’s and his henchmen’s ultimate decision to track down and follow her trail, to invade the compound, to attack and force a defense. That man had put out a bounty for Aaron for a reason. A devious reason. Armed thugs had wound up inside her home because of it. And though Mikey’s surveillance had assured her to the contrary, there were possibly others that could have tracked down her family. Essex had already escaped a maximum-security prison once. Aaron would always be at risk of discovery and life-threatening danger as long as Essex remained alive.
Snowflakes sifted past the glass, multifold, random bits of crystalline elegance dashing to the sidewalk. A gust swished them off down the street. How would she feel after this? How bad could it get and how would that affect her? Training or no, this was real now and ultimately upon them.
Alex sighed and blew on her coffee before taking a sip. Still too hot. She looked out the window at the sleepy small-town street. A nice little mountain community, likely close-knit, in complete oblivion to the danger that resided so close by. Essex’s compound was as well disguised and hidden as their own, maybe even better, and just a few miles farther out in the opposite direction from town. Such close proximity, within just thirty miles of each other, and neither group had recognized the other’s whereabouts until now? An odd coincidence? But there had been no reason to concern themselves. Although Les and the guys were aware of Essex’s camp, they had just assumed it was some militia types and steered clear. More recent investigation revealed the truth.
Alex swallowed a larger sip of her brew, took a deep breath, and inserted the battery into her phone. She plugged it in and turned it on. The screen lit with life, and the short cheery provider tune sounded. Soon Aaron’s picture appeared on the home screen. She ran her finger along the edge of the case. So he hadn’t destroyed this phone after all. Wonder if he looked through my photos? She allowed a small smile to form. There was nothing in her gallery she’d be concerned about him seeing, plus she’d wanted to share more of her photography with him anyway. He’d never mentioned that most of the last ones she’d taken were of him.
How long would the device take to be detected? Probably not long. The guys had assured her she would only be monitored to find out where she went, but an apprehensive cloud still hung over her that maybe she would just be taken as bait to draw out Aaron. She relied on Aaron’s keen sense of observation and the information he’d conveyed to her to keep those thoughts to a minimum.
Ankles crossed under her bench, she squeezed her feet together. Comforting pressure from the lump of her boot knife. They better be right. Aaron’s knowledge of Essex and the man’s methods was a huge bonus in this. Plus Les’s tactical skills and the layout of the operation were meticulous. He was confident. And… Andy had not gone straight back. He would wait at a not-so-distant vantage point just to make sure.
Well, this is it. Alex dialed.
“Hey, you. You make it?”
“I made it. I’m in town. At the Caffeine Corral.”
“Be there in a bit. Can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too. Bye.”
“Got ’em, boss.”
“Send it all to my room,” Damien Essex ordered his communications tech. He retired to his personal chambers to savor this most excellent news in private.
They’d spent months searching. Essex’s handpicked surveillance team had produced multiple leads on their female target. All overseas. None panned out. But absolutely nothing on Donovan. No leads. No trace. Not a thing. Had his old teammate perished in Shane’s suicide explosion? No. Though possible, Essex refused entertainment of such an obvious outcome.
That perceived violent end provided perfect cover for Donovan to disappear and reinvent himself, one of the man’s trademark abilities. Would he go that far now, having lived outside their old directives for so long? Would his years of a new life and career choice make him complacent in taking precautions to hide his past? Aaron Donovan; back to using his given name. Even with possession of that knowledge, Essex had had a hard time tracking him. Donovan existed in an ever-mindful covert mode. A ghost at the edge of a dream.
A considerable upgrade to Essex’s mundane hijackings and thugs for hire, this more than pleasant surprise of discovering his old adversary out of the blue had renewed his zeal and avarice. He’d kept busy with routine heists and the occasional hit, but killing people who meant nothing to him could never elicit an endorphin rush of proper magnitude. This delightful distraction would provide a fresh game of cat and mouse, a delicious eventual conquest. If and when they could catch up face-to-face.
From the search site before the confrontation, Shane had relayed detailed information of all on board back to Essex and his men. Essex found humor in Shane’s fuming at the attraction between Donovan and the girl. He counted on that now and would use it to his advantage. If Donovan cared enough, if they’d gotten close enough, he would come out of hiding for her. The man was too much of a dreamer and a romantic. Their overseers had never been able to train that foolishness out of the boy.
No matter how much pain Donovan endured or how many horrors they’d all experienced or been party to, that infuriating mercy remained. The punk had gotten good at hiding it over their time together. Become adept enough at covering that vulnerability to escape the repercussions it brought from the handlers. But it was still there. Compassion. His weakness. That’s what made him leave. And just as things were getting good. If not for that, those special assignments would likely have continued. Donovan had ruined it all.
Essex missed those missions. Trained for assassination, encouraged to use aggressive means with free permission to torture if need be with no consequence? Yeah, he missed it. And Donovan had been the one who was instrumental in gaining them access to their objectives. His niche in the operation. His ability to put others at ease, to get them to let their guard down, had opened
the doors. Then Essex and some of the others could go to work.
Why couldn’t Donovan just do his damn job? Why did he always have to let some infernal code of ethics get in the way? It all fell apart after the coward ran. No one else could ever pull off that deception quite as well. It was the reason they’d kept him on. That unnerving, innocent confidence he could bring to the surface and use in a con. That sickening, sweet likability that got them inside. The part that was real.
Essex would never show that kind of decrepitude, even if it paid. But watching Donovan forced into it, knowing it was a fake-out in those operations? That had been awesome, him using real emotion to bring authenticity to the part. To see the turmoil behind his eyes. Even so, that show of friendliness was beneath Essex. Only total control and strength counted. One could play at compassion, but the subject should see force right up front. Have a good scare before he went to work. Any flowery kindness could be enacted by someone else.
That someone else had been Donovan. Essex’s nose wrinkled and he tightened his lips. If he’d grown up in my house, he’d have had that nonsense thrashed outta him right quick. Gotten rid of all that goody-two-shoes crap. Wasteful trappings for weak-minded fools.
Essex had often fantasized of being the one selected to rid their company of that softhearted ingrate. For Donovan to wear out his usefulness, to refuse an order one time too many. For the handlers to see the error in their judgment at last. How would it happen? Silently in his sleep? A stray round of friendly fire? Any number of unfortunate accidents could occur during an engagement. But no… up close and personal would be the most satisfying. He could view the life snuff out, the soul drain away into oblivion. And that would only transpire following a great suffering and loss of hope. Essex had longed to be chosen for that undertaking. And resultant assignment fulfilled, to be the one to dispose of the lifeless body. Ah, yes! A chill coursed through him. Exhilarated by his imaginings, a fresh swell of pride sent a burst of blood through his arteries. Hands clenched into fists and muscles strained in reflection, he imagined flesh and bone yielding under his powerful hands. The rush and reward of a job well done. He had to be the one. It was his right!
Alas, it never came to that. Unfortunately, strong-arming into certain situations, well, it just wasn’t always as fruitful as securing the invite first. Contentious or no, Donovan had been pivotal to those mandates. A necessity. If only Donovan hadn’t been so damned adaptable! That damn winsome smile and personality to match, coupled with a killer annihilation finesse. The perfect combination. He could have been so much more. Even when he pissed them off, it was like he possessed some kind of light that always brought him luck and favor from their overseers. A light that Essex felt the indescribable compulsion to extinguish.
Near the end, a horribly botched job brought Essex closer to receiving his wish. Part of the team injured, the objective derailed. All because of some damn kids! The handlers spent hours interrogating Donovan before tossing him into isolation. Ten days in a squalid hell.
His tune changed when he came out, and for the next couple of weeks, all orders were taken without question. The obedient pup. Had it finally worked? Had the man submitted to his destiny at last? That answer manifested in the form of a well-played diversion… and the pariah was gone. Slipped from Essex’s grasp.
Now… after all this time, discovered at last! Essex stretched, his poise self-assured. What serendipity saw him deserving of this absurd fortune? Plus his assumptions proved correct; Donovan’s survival skills remained on point, but he had come back for the girl. Another flaw in what could have been the perfect soldier of fortune. And he’d wound up here!
Even with a lack of conscience, Essex possessed the innate ability to gain a rapid and intimate understanding of the psychology of others. Another reason behind his selection for their old team. Intuiting someone’s mental processes helped him establish how he could affect them, distract them, damage them before ever touching them.
And he knew Donovan. Smart and savvy, a likable sort when they had downtime or when he was tricking a target. He’d joke and play, and he could take what he dished out with the best. But he never took any real shit. And when they did get into a situation that required it? Damn could the boy be bloodthirsty! Still, he irritated Essex to no end with his concern for the well-being of others, his only killing when it was necessary. But Donovan was also one of the best, if not the ultimate best, Essex had ever met with tactical, hand to hand, and weapons. An intriguing contest lay ahead to be sure.
Essex would have fun with this. He’d use that girl to distract his prey. He’d make them suffer. In his imagination, he’d step into their lives, fantasize what it was like to be them. Their care for each other. Pure elation for him in the experience, to taste their combination of hope, of thinking they could win, to see a way out, the perceived light at the end of the tunnel, and then the terror behind their eyes when they came to the realization that all hope was a lie. That aspect gave him a rush like nothing else. He would use that love and fear to intensify the experience of taking the life. And that ultimate act gave him the raw decree of the power of life and death over another, that control he craved like a drug.
In charge of his own organization now, he could do anything he wished, and he relished in pleasurable thoughts of exercising authority over the one he never could. He would nurture every bit of unhinged gratification possible out of this. This one would be a hard-won kill… but worth every delectable second.
Now. The most recent recording. Essex replayed it over and over. The voices. Their excitement. The affection. Their heated anticipation of reunion…
His old teammate.
What incredible luck! Just when his frustration level had peaked, this beautiful gift almost literally dropped into his lap. He liked gifts. Especially from people he wouldn’t even have to compensate, a couple of expendable losers hoping to make some easy cash. They wouldn’t be missed. Those two he’d hired had made several calls this week alone. They had tracked down the girl from the boat. And of all the places she could go in all the world to meet up with Donovan? Right here! Right in his own backyard!
Essex chuckled. Probably some little romantic cabin in the mountains, a place his quarry expected to be safe and out of the way.
But was there a hidden agenda behind this sudden appearance?
One odd thing stuck out, especially after all the wild leads. That handful of calls made in the past week, though seeming local, weren’t traceable. Only this last one. Those two amateur bounty hunters weren’t that smart.
Could this be a setup? Was Donovan onto him? It couldn’t possibly be this easy after all this time. Hell, what if the girl had never even left the States? That told another story. If that was the case, whomever Donovan had working tech with him was good. Not that the derelict couldn’t have done it himself, he definitely possessed the skills. But that scenario would have just entailed a couple of good evasive deceptions and his disappearance. No, this someone had the acumen and capacity and also the time on their hands to really screw with Essex’s team. Hmm, maybe they could be bought off. If they survived. But that was something for another day. First things first.
Essex flexed broad shoulders and powerful arms as he admired his reflection in the wall mirror. A pencil-thin dark mustache and buzzed hair completed his version of a severe military presence. A wide, toothy grin formed, an expression he displayed often. It confused people… paired with his crazed eyes and threatening build. But for the most part it was just that assurance of being in control of the situations he put himself into. And the intimidation factor was just so enjoyable. So he smiled.
Obsessed. Now that label Essex appreciated. Obsession gave him a definitive, focused goal, something big and exciting to look forward to. His heartbeat quickened with every devious detail slinking through his mind, what actions he could at last take, what games he could play, what distress and pain he could cause. This promised some real gut-wrenching, heartfelt satisfaction. An ecst
asy. A kill extended not into just the physical extinguishing of bodily function but the slow burn disintegration of emotional well-being.
Psychological destruction. Attack, allow gain, beat down, permit a recovery. Repeat to the brink of perceived death. A vicious tease of ascending cycles of hope and defeat. His own little movie in which he embodied the hero to the outcome. Overcoming the injustices befallen him. Triumph at last. In the end, to finally eliminate the one person who did not appreciate things his way, who challenged him at every turn, on every mission they’d participated in. The one who held him back and caused him nothing but vexation. Never allowed him to showcase his own leadership skills. Caused the degradation and destruction of the unit… which ultimately resulted in Essex’s stint in prison.
What amazing dumb luck to find the man again on some random hijacking job! A deep, exhilarating breath and another wide grin. The pleasure of this kill belonged solely to him now. As it should. Anticipation swelled at the thought of showing Aaron Donovan, in a very personal way, that crossing Damien Essex amounted to one of the worst choices the man could ever make.
Essex snickered as he pulled on his favorite camo jacket. He could indulge in these enticing fantasies all day and find gratification. Time now to take action and bring them to delicious reality. To at long last bring his adversary to justice. Striding out of his private quarters, he returned to his command center to speak with his surveillance tech.
“Check out where they go. I want to know everything. Every move, every last intimate detail. We’ll give it a few days, maybe a week or even two. Let them settle in, get comfortable. Be happy. Be in love!” He arched an eyebrow to accompany his derisive chuckle. “Then we’ll give them a sweet and tasty little welcome-to-the-neighborhood surprise.”
Off the Deep End Page 24