Verifiable Intelligence

by Kaitlin Maitland

  “Steak and eggs.”

  “How you want your steak?”

  “Medium.”

  “Eggs?”

  “Scrambled.”

  She smiled warmly. “It’ll be just a few minutes and it’ll be right up.”

  “Thanks.”

  He watched her go. She seemed nice, and he wondered if her life was normal. He’d found over the years that most peoples' weren’t. What was normal, anyway? It wasn’t him. No one could consider him normal. Jace McKay, killer, spy, and mercenary for hire. It was just a job to him, just another paycheck.

  A newspaper caught his eye. Under a headline reading Amber Alert, there was a sensationalized account of Ryan's abduction. It included several comments from eyewitnesses to what the local media had dubbed the “library execution.” Ryan’s picture was plastered across the front page. Jace would’ve preferred to keep his brother’s abduction below the radar but the detectives would’ve thought it strange if Ryan’s aunt hadn’t treated the situation the way they recommended.

  “It’s terrible about that boy, you know?” the waitress said as she reappeared to fill his coffee cup.

  “Yep.”

  “No kid should have to worry about someone just grabbing them like that.”

  “No, they shouldn’t.”

  “And in a library.” She tsked. “Man walks into a public library with a gun and just starts threatening people!”

  “It’s amazing isn’t it?”

  He was letting her vent for two reasons. One, he wanted to seem like every other customer that came in to eat, pleasant but not too friendly. Two, he wondered if she’d know any rumors he hadn’t heard yet.

  “Then there was that thing right after the kid got taken where that poor woman’s house blew up!”

  Jace blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “You didn’t hear about that?”

  “I was traveling. I only heard about the kid.”

  “Oh, that must be why you’re so tired, poor thing. You’ve got jet lag!”

  That was one way of putting it.

  “The house was in a fancy subdivision in Ofallon, across the river.”

  Jace nodded. He knew where Ofallon was.

  “Apparently some men just showed up yesterday afternoon with these huge guns and started blowing the place apart. One of her neighbors got killed. He was shot right through. They showed this woman on the news last night who said the owner of the house got away.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “Yeah, she drove through the golf course to get away from these people who were chasing her!”

  “And her house just blew up?”

  The waitress shrugged. “I guess so. The police chief out there said he’d never seen anything like it before. The house just exploded like it got hit by a bomb. So the cops are thinking maybe her heater got punctured or something and then blew up.”

  “Wow.”

  “They had all kinds of cars out looking for her last night,” the waitress lowered her voice. “One newsman said he thought it might be a mafia thing, you know?”

  Jace suppressed a smile with another swig of coffee. It sounded like Dayne to him. When she vacated an area she wiped away every trace of herself.

  The waitress disappeared for a few moments and then returned carrying a large plate of steaming hot food. His stomach growled in anticipation. The food in Egypt wasn’t bad. But typical Egyptian food was generally lamb or chicken, and it didn’t take long for him to start craving a good slab of red meat.

  Jace considered what the waitress had said while he methodically sliced his steak. Someone had gone after Dayne with an enormous amount of firepower. It stood to reason that whoever wanted her dead was tied in with Ryan’s kidnapping. He wished he knew whether or not it was the Russian or his American counterpart. Or worse, it could be both.

  “Um, mister,” the waitress approached him hesitantly.

  “Yes?”

  She nibbled her lower lip. Every other second her eyes darted to the front windows. Jace didn’t have much trouble trying to guess what she was going to say next.

  “There are a few guys checking out your motorcycle,” she told him. “I just thought you might want to know.”

  “Men and machines, huh?” Jace said nonchalantly. “How many are there?”

  “Five or six.”

  So it was more than a few. He kept his voice mild. “Are they customers here?”

  “I don’t recognize them.”

  “Are they driving cool cars?” he prodded. “Maybe they’re just not used to seeing an Italian bike.”

  “Hmmm, it looks like they’re in three cars.”

  “What kind?” He purposely kept his tone low-key.

  “It looks like…yeah, BMW’s.” She was craning her neck for a better view. “Oh, that’s slick. They’re the kind my boyfriend wanted to buy. Like a 3 series or something. I don’t remember exactly.”

  “So your boyfriend wanted a BMW, that’s cool.”

  “Yeah, he was totally saving up for a down payment, but his credit’s no good, you know.”

  “I understand,” Jace said with a nod. “Credit bureau can screw you.”

  “Completely,” she said distractedly. “Weird, they’re leaving. I guess they just wanted to look at your bike.”

  “Guess so.”

  “You probably get that a lot,” the woman fluttered her eyelashes. “My girlfriends and I are totally into guys with motorcycles. They’re so sexy.”

  It was time to go. He fished in his wallet for a few bills and made certain to leave her a good tip. Not so much that she would think it was outrageous, but enough to give her a positive memory of him.

  “Thanks mister, have a nice afternoon.”

  “No problem, thanks for the conversation.”

  He smiled and took a deep breath before heading out. No doubt about it. He was about to be tailed. They were likely hiding in an alley somewhere. Hopefully the waitress had seen things properly. He’d be looking for three different vehicles to pop out at him somewhere along his route and try to herd him in another direction. That didn’t mean more wouldn’t join the fun later down the road.

  Jace rested his right toe on the pavement. The light was red. Only a few hundred yards separated him from the highway. He could see one of the black BMW’s in his right mirror, three cars behind him. He pretended not to notice them. Getting to the highway became imperative. This was unfamiliar territory to him. Jace didn’t mind playing cat and mouse, but he wanted to do it in a place where he knew the layout a little better. Once he reached West County he’d be in a better position to take these suckers for a ride.

  The light changed. Jace toed his bike into gear and throttled up. The Ducati engine whined as it accelerated, the on ramp flying toward him. He was preparing to ease onto the highway when the red sedan in front of him hit the brakes.

  “Damn teenage driver,” he muttered. “You’re supposed to accelerate when you merge, not hit the brakes!”

  Making a split second decision, he ducked the bike to the left. The sedan’s mirror skimmed his arm as he shot past it. The young girl behind the wheel gave him a look of surprise as he whipped by.

  Leaning into the bike, he glanced into the pocket between his torso and his arm to check his blind spot. Traffic was just starting to build for the afternoon rush. A prickle on the back of his neck told him the black BMW was gaining.

  “How bad you want me alive?” he muttered.

  Shifting gears, Jace gunned the throttle. The Ducati leapt beneath him. Wind tore past him, nearly ripping the sunglasses from his face. The power was unbelievable. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Only the strength of his hands gripping the handlebars kept his butt on the seat.

  He slipped between two cars and ducked behind a tractor-trailer. His pursuer was just on the other side of the semi’s trailer. With a grin he couldn’t hide, he let off the throttle. Ignoring the blaring horn behind him, Jace jockeyed for a spot directly behind the trailer. No
w he was in the cat’s cradle. An SUV to his left, the trucker in front of him, and a minivan to his right, he was all but invisible.

  At least until another BMW rolled into place behind him. Jace glanced back in time to see them accelerating through the gathering traffic. He briefly wondered if they actually thought to squeeze him underneath the trailer. He wasn’t going to wait to find out.

  The distance between the corner of the trailer and the front bumper of the minivan wasn’t much. He gritted his teeth. He had to time this perfectly or he would be road kill.

  “Do or die,” he muttered beneath his breath.

  Cold air seeped around the edges of his sunglasses. His eyes watered. Forcing his mind to concentrate, he glanced at the driver of the minivan. The woman was yakking on the phone. Perfect. Hopefully, if she caused a wreck he’d be in front of it.

  One…two…three… He shot toward the space. The engine whined furiously. The edge of the trailer was mere centimeters away. Ducking right and then left, his right boot skimmed the surface of the van. Left again and he was in a small clear space.

  Behind him, the driver of the van was honking wildly. Jace didn’t have time to worry about her. He was now directly behind the first BMW, and the driver was hitting the brakes.

  Shit.

  He eased off the throttle. There was nowhere to go. The minivan driver was mad as hell, hot on his tail. To his right was an enormous van advertising a pest control firm. To his left was the semi.

  Glancing up, Jace could see the driver's face in the mirror of the tractor-trailer. The hulking man was not pleased. He was on his CB radio, no doubt calling his buddies. Every trucker in the St. Louis area was going to go out of their way to get in his.

  He watched the exit signs as they whizzed by. It was past time to get off the highway.

  He needed to be two lanes over to the right in less than three quarters of a mile. He eyed his side mirrors. The woman in the van was back on the phone, most likely calling the state patrol. He wondered how far she was willing to go to vent her anger. Road rage was a distinct possibility though she didn’t fit the profile of a gun-toting civilian.

  He waited until she was looking before hitting the brakes. Her tires screeched, her expression somewhere between infuriated and horrified. The acrid odor of burnt rubber made Jace’s nose twitch. Now he had somewhere to go.

  A small space had opened up behind the pest control van. He was quickly running out of time. Using his body weight, he lurched the bike to the right once, and then once more. Now three lanes away from the BMW’s, he was in a good position to exit.

  Harsh horns rent the air. The BMW’s were swerving through traffic to follow. Jace ducked into the nearly clear exit lane and really turned on the speed. Lowering his body against the bike’s yellow gas tank, he gripped the handlebars as lightly as he dared.

  He tore down the ramp like a bat out of hell. The light at the bottom was red. There was no way he was going to make it to a stop. Easing off the throttle, he swerved around the line of waiting cars and shot into the intersection.

  Tires squealed as cars swerved to avoid running him down. His instincts took over as he dodged right and left as necessary. Only his wits kept him upright and alive.

  This was in familiar territory. He’d once fulfilled a contract on a doctor suffering from a severe gambling addiction not far from there. Restaurants, apartment complexes, and storefronts whizzed past as he tore down the street.

  Behind him, he had a glimpse of two of the three BMW’s. At least he’d lost one. It didn’t matter much either way. In less than a mile he was going to lose the other two. Residential and commercial lots gave way to dense trees and sweeping grassy hills as he entered a regional park.

  The road twisted. Thick clusters of leafy green trees grew dense on either side of the narrow street. He leaned far over the bike, and metal scraped against asphalt when the Ducati whipped around the curve. Somewhere behind him the squeal of cars hitting their brakes reached his ears.

  The ground leveled out. A small man-made lake stretched before him. The tranquil area was ringed by a pedestrian trail and surrounded by public parking. He shot right into the middle of it like the proverbial bull in a china shop.

  Pedestrians scattered like birds. Some on bicycles, some on foot, they all ran for safety as Jace barreled up the sidewalk. Making a split second decision, he headed to the left.

  Dense trees immediately closed in as he gunned the Ducati down the pedestrian path. He didn’t recall exactly how far it was to the meandering public road that passed close behind the park, but he knew it was a long haul for a car to go around.

  Ignoring the shouts and obscenities hurled at him, he spotted the exit and took it. Racing wheels spun on gravel before grabbing traction and launching the Ducati onto the paved, two-lane road.

  It was deserted, save for two open mouthed joggers getting into their parked vehicle nearby. A grin kicked up the corners of his mouth. Now it was on to Six Flags.

  Chapter Eight

  “My picture was on the news this morning,” Ryan said thoughtfully. “How come none of these people are noticing me?”

  Dayne considered this. “You don’t look like you need help.”

  “Oh.”

  “People have this preconceived notion that kidnapped kids are held at gunpoint and scared out of their wits.”

  “Should I scream?”

  “Not unless you want to really piss me off.”

  Ryan grinned. Dayne was surprised when she couldn’t help but grin back. He was an irresistible kid. She was amazed that she hadn’t seen the resemblance between him and Jace to begin with. Ryan had Jace’s strong, stubborn jaw, broad nose, and generous lips. It was the hair. Ryan’s was thick and black. Within memory, she hadn’t ever seen Jace’s hair. He’d always kept it close shaved, claiming it was because he often used disguises and wigs went on better over a bare scalp. Dayne liked to poke at him, so she always claimed he was going bald and trying to hide it.

  “Can’t we ride anymore rides, Dayne?”

  “No, your brother will be here any second.”

  “But I wanted to ride Batman again.”

  “No way,” Dayne’s voice was flat. “If I ride that damn thing again I’m going to puke.”

  “Weenie,” Ryan said.

  “I’m not the weenie. You’re the one who was screaming like a little girl.”

  Ryan laughed sheepishly.

  Casing the surrounding area for the millionth time, she casually reached beneath her jacket to reassure herself that her Sig was still there. It hadn’t been easy to smuggle in, but she was crafty. The metal detectors and bag searchers at the gates of the amusement park were more thorough than the lackeys working airport security.

  She wasn’t certain why she felt such apprehension, but she did. The fountain area was jam packed with people. It always was. That was the primary reason she’d chosen it as a meeting place. But her gut intuition was telling her that something wasn’t right.

  “It’s Jace!” Ryan squealed excitedly.

  Dayne reached out and snagged the back of his windbreaker in her fingers. “Stay put!”

  “But it’s Jace!”

  “Yeah, and if I let you go he’ll take off without helping me.”

  Ryan’s face went blank before slowly crumpling. “You mean you’re just using me?”

  “Hey kid, it’s the way the world works.”

  She hated the look on his face. Betrayal, hurt, and disappointment all vied for prominence in his expression. She hated the way it made her feel even more. It shouldn’t matter what this half-pint kid thought about her or her motives. She was looking out for number one. Her ass was on the line and this kid was the only leverage she had.

  There was no more time to self-analyze. Jace stood less than ten feet away. She’d forgotten how big he was. His broad frame made her feel like a midget. But it was more than just his dominating physical attributes. The man had an intensity about him that just didn’t quit. It
made her breath catch in her throat and a weird heavy sensation settle in the pit of her stomach.

  “You all right, Ryan?”

  As always, Jace went straight to the point. It was one of the things that had driven her crazy during their partnership. He never had any qualms about voicing his opinions, even if he was biased or just wrong.

  “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  Dayne eyed Ryan’s pouched lower lip with amusement. She’d actually hurt his feelings. And damned if that didn’t bother her too! What was wrong with her?

  “Well, Castille.” Jace crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What are your terms?”

  “I just want to know what the hell is going on, McKay.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I find that laughable…and I’m not buying it.”

  He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Whether you believe it or not, it’s the truth.”

  “Antonio said you took the contract on Yuri Dolohov’s brother.”

  “I did.”

  “So it apparently pissed him off.”

  “It would seem so.”

  “What do you really know?”

  “Pardon?”

  “If this was simple retaliation, Ryan would be dead.”

  His gaze flickered over his younger brother. Ryan’s face had gone waxy at the mention of his being dead.

  “What are you suggesting, Dayne?”

  “That they used Ryan as bait to draw you out. You aren’t exactly easy to kill. The kid is leverage.”

  Now Ryan gasped openly, mouth hanging wide open.

  “Okay.” Jace held up his hand, palm out. “We’ve got to take this elsewhere and chat. Scaring the shit out of Ryan isn’t going to accomplish anything.”

  Dayne glanced at the kid. “You want to go back to the arcade, Ryan?”

  “Yeah!”

  Jace lifted an eyebrow. “Arcade?”

  “It was totally awesome!” Ryan gushed. “They’ve got skeeball and that game where you shoot baskets for prizes and stuff.”

  Jace rolled his eyes before nodding. “Lead the way, Ms. Castille.”

  Grabbing Ryan by the arm, she headed to the right. She tried to keep her mind on the perpetual duty of scanning her surroundings but found Jace a disconcerting distraction. Why did he have to be so good looking? Even when he was being the biggest asshole on earth, he did it with irresistible masculine charisma.