by D. C. Stone
“Oh, I’m sure you won’t do anything. You’ll be too busy making a decision.” An eerie laugh sounded as if pulled right out of an old Halloween movie.
He frowned. “I’m waiting, Tayseer. How about you stop talking in riddles and tell me what you want?”
“Ah, yes. What. I. Want.” Tayseer didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but the distinct sound of a blinker echoed in the background. Chris worked through his next steps once he got off the line, the first order of business being to get Sig to trace Sam’s phone. Or Dwayne. Maybe Trent. Someone had to know how to track her.
“First, you will come alone. No police.” Tayseer said, practically spitting that last word. Chris looked at Delta Alpha and couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction in his gut that his partner had previously sunken his teeth into this bastard and had his fill. “You come with anyone and I’ll take the choice out of your hands. Now, tell me you understand. Follow orders like a good little soldier.”
He ground his teeth. “Got it.”
“Oh, I forgot to ask … how are Karen and Daniel?”
Chris’s spine snapped straight. “You piece of sh—”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Tayseer cut in. “Don’t forget your place, boy.”
He squeezed the phone so hard it cracked beneath his hand. Rather than lose this lifeline to Sam, he forced himself to release the hard grip. “What did you do to them?” he asked after several moments of reconstructing his careful control.
“Why nothing,” he answered in a mock-innocent voice. “But it’s amazing how much information one can get on another online. Have you ever run one of those checks on yourself? There are a ton of websites dying to give information to anyone who pays for it.”
“Get to the point.”
“The point, Sergeant Gonzalez, is there is much I know about you. And I suspect I know more than you do.”
Chris slapped the wall next to his head and dipped his forehead into the plaster, wanting to scream. “Stop talking in fucking riddles.”
“There were two children born that night.”
He blinked and pushed away from the wall, staring at the gray color but not really seeing it. Two children. Two. His dreams. The memories. What?
“Two children born the night you were born, Sergeant.”
Air rushed out of his lungs in a rush.
Laughter sounded over the line and the road noise in the background changed, coming rougher somehow.
“Ask Karen if you don’t believe me,” Tayseer said. “And come prepared to make a choice, Sergeant Gonzalez. Meet us at the Bear Mountain Carousel. I’m sure you know the way.”
The line went dead. Chris didn’t even take a moment to think and rushed out of the apartment.
Chapter Twenty
Max “Sig” Carletto turned to Sergeant Davis with a raised brow, a chill unlike anything else skating down his spine. “You’re never going to believe what I found.”
Davis paused, a bottle of water halting at his mouth, and matched Sig’s eyebrow raise, lifting off the couch from where he’d been watching last night’s replay of the Yankee game. Sig had tuned it out. He was a Dodgers’ fan through and through. A snap, crackle, and pop sounded from Davis’s lumbering body and Sig muffled a laugh.
“Getting too old for this line of work, man,” Davis grumbled, wincing as he rubbed a knee. “Whatcha got?” Davis bent over his shoulder and looked at the computer screen.
He turned back to his research and findings, an alarm building in his chest coming from somewhere he couldn’t recognize. “Read this.”
Davis read for a few moments, silent behind him until finally a curse sounded from his mouth, low and harsh. Just then, Davis’s phone started ringing. Sig turned to him, waiting for their next step. Because there would be. A next step. What he’d found left no doubt about that.
“Davis here.”
His sergeant listened for a few moments, his brows drawing lower and lower until alarm crossed over his face. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” He looked at Sig. “Suit up. Now.”
****
Chris and Delta Alpha crept up over the hill. A darkened carousel sat just above the rise like an abandoned building lost in the middle of the forest. Which, when he thought about it, with the carousel being far, far away from civilization and in the middle of a National Forest, it kind of was.
The sun had set, dipping behind the tall trees of Bear Mountain and casting the area into deep shades of black and grey. A cool wind gusted, causing trees to sway, leaves to drop, and critters to scurry, all the sounds reaching his oversensitive ears at once. Many complained about the noises of the city, honking cars, sirens, footsteps, and general living. But a lot of those people didn’t know about the utter silence of the forest and how loud that quiet could become.
His hands shook with fear and adrenaline, wrapped around his M4 carbine. Millions of thoughts clamored in his head, trying to one-up another, endless possibilities for just what could go wrong here, why Tayseer had brought him to this particular carousel, and why this place seemed so familiar. With a quick glance at DA, he also wondered if he made the right decision bringing his partner along. After he’d parked some few miles back, he hadn’t thought twice about bringing him along. But now, with the doubts about his own ability and decisions he had to make, he wondered if he’d made the right one with his dog.
Memories flicked behind his eyelids each time he blinked, pulling his concentration. Images of this same carousel, of another boy who looked like him, of their healthy mother before her body had been riddled with drugs. A moist muzzle shoved between his palm and the ground. Wet grass and dying leaves, a rotting animal not too far away all filled his nose, and combined with the too-loud whoosh of his heartbeat in his ears, his attention span turned to shit.
How was he supposed to help Sam, help his brother if this was how he was? Distracted to the point of being worthless.
He gave a thankful pat on DA’s head then crept along the tree line, keeping the darkened carousel in his sight when suddenly, the lights turned on and it began to spin. Between the loud music and glaring lamps, it took him a few moments to adjust. He was two hundred feet away, but it was a shock to his senses … again.
“Come on, Cooper,” a younger him yelled over the music from the carousel, laughing, and holding the cone of his cotton candy tight as he tugged on his twin’s arm, “it’s about to start.”
DA brushed along his side and Chris grunted under his breath, shook his head. Shit. Just a memory, but the feeling of holding his brother’s hand felt very current. He resisted the urge to rub at his palm it had seemed so real.
He refocused on the carousel and squinted as something stood out. Two forms were tied inside against the poles, their lolling heads hiding their faces, but the unmistakable shade of red caused his gut to pull up tight. He darted out of the trees without thinking and pounded his way across the soft ground, his boots thudding with each contact. An echoing shot sounded out in the night, causing him to dive behind a wide oak tree closer to the carousel.
“Fuck,” he said, panting and pushing his back against the trunk. Beneath his pants, the ground was cold and wet, liquid seeping into the backside of his jeans. DA had crouched low beside him. Chris took a moment to study his dog’s reaction to the scene and the gunshot. There wasn’t much he’d be able to do if DA showed signs of PTSD and fear, but he needed to make sure everyone made it out of this alive, and the first step of that was to make sure both he and his partner could handle the pressure.
DA seemed fine, ears perked up, body posed and at attention, close to the ground and ready for a command. It seemed his dog was in better shape than he for fear made his hands shake beneath the rubber grip of his gun.
The phone inside his jacket pocket started ringing.
He pulled it out and answered on a growl. “What?”
“Nice of you to join us, Sergeant.”
“Oh, yeah? Nice way you have of greeting someone, asshole. I’m here, now what?”
He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. He should probably be a bit more diplomatic, but he didn’t take too kindly to having bullets shot at him.
“You know, you and I aren’t all that much different,” Tayseer said.
He scoffed. “Really? Are you seriously sitting here and telling me that a United States Special Forces soldier and a world-wide terrorist have something in common? Is that what I’m hearing coming from your mouth?”
Tayseer hissed. “What I mean, Gonzalez, is we both enjoy killing people.”
His heartbeat thundered in his throat, threatening to break out of the skin. They were nothing alike, nothing. But with Tayseer mentioning killing people while he had his brother and Sam in his grasp left a foul, bitter taste in his mouth. “I don’t know who the hell you think I am, but we are nothing alike. Nothing. You and I wouldn’t even match up on Match.com we’re so different.” He winced again, unable to help himself with the smartass comments.
A sigh came in through his ear, the sound like Tayseer had grown bored with their banter. “My work,” he directed, bringing the topic back around to their earlier conversation, “is very important to me.”
He said nothing, just listened while poking his head around the tree, trying to get a glimpse of Sam and Cooper. His brother. Christ! Everything within the last hour had changed. Everything. How could he have ever forgotten his twin? How crazy was it when the mind played such games?
“You and your team threatened that work,” Tayseer went on. “But after tonight, they will remember me. I will show you all just what happens when you mess with me.”
Chris took a deep breath and pushed back against the tree, rising to stand. Bark dug into his jacket as he inched his way up and his legs shook with adrenaline. Cooper had woken, lifting his head from the pole in which he was tied. Chris would recognize him anywhere. Hell, they were practically mirrored in looks. Cooper’s hair was lighter than his own, but outside of that, it was like looking at his reflection.
“There is only one cure sitting here,” Tayseer said, bringing his attention back to the phone. “Now you must choose.”
Horror washed over Chris, sending needles of pain throughout his body. “You sick fuck!” he said, but the line had already clicked, indicating Tayseer had hung up.
****
Charlie hit the gas pedal, merging off I-287 and onto Palisades Parkway, her head spinning with the implications of what was occurring. A terrorist was in the United States and Chris was out in the middle of a forest dealing with the guy.
“Charlie, you need to wait for the FBI,” Trent said, his dark voice rumbling over her car speakers.
The panic that had been eating at her since she got D’s call, him having been given a heads-up by Chris’s team, hadn’t lessened. No, in fact, it seemed to grow until it felt as if a monster had situated itself over her skin, eating at her.
Chris was like an older brother. Someone who had laughed into the dark night with her while they watched old eighties horror movies, making fun of the damsels in distress. Someone who had taken her to her eighth-grade dance because stupid Billy had said no boy would take her, and she wanted to prove a point, even if her date had been a sophomore in high school. Someone who had just a few nights ago picked her up and gave her a bear hug that almost squeezed all the air from her. He was family, and she was damned if she would wait for the friggin’ FBI to take their time making their pretty, fancy-pants ways up to Rockland County when she could be there in mere minutes.
“As much as I love you, honey,” she said, and Trent snorted at her endearment, “I have to do this.”
“Dammit, Char—”
“He’s family.”
That shut him up.
“I don’t like this. This Tayseer guy isn’t one to play games with. The amount of intel coming in is highly disturbing.” Trent’s sigh rattled, and she had to force her rising guilt down. She got it. He was worried. About her. She would be in his shoes if the situation were reversed.
“I love you,” she said again.
He cursed under his breath. “I love you, too. Don’t get hurt.”
An order. One she’d try to follow.
****
“One … two … three!” Chris rushed from his hiding spot, sprinting across the remaining space between the tree and carousel. A ball of fur kept pace beside him, both of them working as they always had—like a well-oiled machine.
A shot rang out. Pain erupted in his leg, sending him stumbling forward. He fell into the side partition of the building where the carousel sat, catching his body before he smacked face-first into the ground. Rolling to his back, he breathed through the pain, sucking air between his teeth. There was no time to relax, though, for Tayseer had a gun and wanted him dead. Probably not as much as Chris wanted him dead, though.
He pushed to sitting and rested against the wood, ripping off his belt and making a field tourniquet around the bullet wound that would have made Doc proud. Even having a field tech assigned to the team, each of them had undergone the basic classes in the event Doc went down. It came in handy, like now.
His belt in place, he checked his M4 again and risked a quick peek around the partition. Both Cooper and Sam had their heads up. Blood ran in a red trail over his brother’s head, coming over the gray sweatshirt he wore, but otherwise, Sam seemed to be unharmed.
He squeezed his eyes shut. That was, if one didn’t think about them both being infected.
He shook his head, needing to push that next problem away. Staying focused was key to try to get them all out alive.
Shifting, he crept around and waited for the perfect opportunity to jump on the moving carousel. DA brushed along the side of his body. The air around them held its breath. He scanned beyond the moving floor, looking for any sign of Tayseer. Dimly, he heard a low rumbling of a voice, followed by a soft cry from Sam. That sound tore at his chest like mice threatening to tunnel inside, and DA growled low in his throat.
They hopped up on the machine.
Cooper’s boyhood face flashed behind his lids.
Chris shook his head, brought the M4 up, and held the stock snuggly into his shoulder.
“You and I are the same, Sergeant Gonzalez,” Tayseer yelled, the sound coming from the opposite side of the carousel. Sam and Cooper were only feet away to his left, their backs to him, tied to a pole, but Chris couldn’t let his guard down, couldn’t follow that basic instinct that screamed at him to go to them and make sure they were all right.
No, he had to hunt the SOB who threatened to bring down his world.
He brought his sights in line, keeping the muzzle raised in the direction of Tayseer’s voice.
“You have death on your hands just as I do.”
There. To his right. Chris spun, ignoring the twinge in his leg and fired off a burst of three rounds. The weapon vibrated in his hands. Bullets pinged off metal. Tayseer’s face rose after the echoing shots, a gun raised and pointed at him. Chris dove for cover behind a bench on the carousel, diving out of the way just in time to hear the shot fired off.
He scrambled to find new cover, using the center platform as a pivoting dock. Now, on the opposite side of Sam and Cooper, he tracked forward, looking to come up behind Tayseer’s last hiding spot.
A shot rang out and pain buffeted his shoulder, sending him spinning around to the ground. His head slammed against the hook of a plastic pony. Stars danced before his eyes, but he rose to his knees and scrambled for cover.
He looked around, searching for and failing to find DA. Where had he gone? Did he get scared at the gunshots? Shit!
“You and I. We’re not good men, Sergeant Gonzalez. I know all about you.”
More shots fired, but they seemed haphazard, as if Tayseer didn’t know where he hid. Chris pulled back the flap of his jacket and winced at the perfect hole in his shoulder. Blood trickled down his chest and back, and his leg throbbed with pain. His vision swam, telling him how bad off he was.
Shit again…
&nb
sp; “You left your brother to live a life of privilege. Your own flesh and blood, to live among the rich.”
His adoptive parents had been anything but rich. Well off? Yes. They worked for their positions, but he wasn’t about to argue with this mental case.
“You and I are one of the same, Gonzalez. We put ourselves before others. But that comes at a cost.”
Sam cried out, and Chris resisted the insane urge to run in her direction. Instead, he peeked his head around his hiding place. Tayseer had her beautiful red hair in his fist and pulled her head back at an ungodly angle. His brother Cooper stared at Tayseer with rage.
“Tell him to come out of hiding,” Tayseer said to her, his voice carrying only feet away from where Chris hid.
Sam pushed her lips together, refusing to give in.
“Tell him,” Tayseer pushed, then leveled his handgun to Cooper’s head. “Or I’ll kill his twin brother.”
His pulse ran up his throat as if it wanted to jump out of hiding. Before Sam could decide, Chris stepped off the middle partition and into Tayseer’s view. “Leave them alone.”
Tayseer smiled and pointed his gun at Chris. From this far away, it’d hit before Chris could react. “Drop your gun.”
He didn’t want to do it but was left with no choice.
Tayseer smiled as Chris tossed the M4 off the carousel. “There’s a problem with people like us, Gonzalez.”
Chris swallowed, forcing down bile. He shifted as the carousel continued to spin. The movement, along with his already dizzy head, made him sick. Blood loss and what he figured was a concussion weren’t doing him any favors. He could feel his strength zapping out minute by minute.
“We’re nothing alike,” he said.
Tayseer fired, and another shot hit him in the same shoulder as before. Sam cried out, but Chris remained on his feet, turning back to Tayseer.
“When we die, there’s no one left to mourn what is left of our pathetic souls.”
Chris staggered forward a step, his gaze locked on Tayseer. “Let them go. I’m the one you want. They are nothing to you.”