Dangerous Care (Dangerous Care Saga Book 1)

by M. M. Cameron

  Madoc couldn’t believe he had the whole combat team in his house. Charlie, Adams, Marshall and Tuck were all sitting in his boardroom talking over one another. Madoc suppressed a smile as Charlie shouted over the cacophony of voices. “So, I got a phone call from the security team monitoring border patrols and immigration.” She paused for dramatic suspense. “Four high-ranking suspected black market-operatives recently used their passports in Amsterdam to fly to Mexico, followed by a border crossing into the states and a domestic flight to upper Michigan, Flint specifically. It’s suspected they are heading to Canada next given their proximity to two international bridges.” Madoc turned in his chair and took over the discussion.

  “The Canadian government called shortly after—they want to meet in Ottawa tonight to discuss strategies to keep the PM and his family safe. Not only are these four individuals highly dangerous, but they were suspected to be living in Tunisia at the time of my injury. The Prime Minister and his team still don’t know about that.” Madoc looked to Marshall who had not said a word since his arrival. “The PM’s team is right to be concerned about these four operatives supposedly making their way north, but they’re not worried enough.” Tuck waited for more—there was always more. “The surgeon has cleared me for semi-weight bearing and has fitted a lighter cast so I can walk, but Adams has promise to cut it off before the meeting.” Charlie swung her head towards him. “Whoa, you are gonna rile the beast! Kathryn won’t be happy about that.”

  “Firstly, I don’t care what Kathryn thinks. Secondly, I’ll wait until after Kathryn’s session, which will start in an hour, and then Adams will remove the cast and we will head to the air field to avoid any issues with her. Got it?” Adams had agreed to cut it off because he knew it was better for the mission for Madoc to be seen without it. Tuck had straight out refused and wanted nothing to do with it.

  “Okay. Get upstairs for the tickets and information portfolios. Then you can all get the hell out.” He didn’t want Kathryn to catch everyone leaving as she pulled in—there would be too many questions. He was starting to grow tired of the lies.

  Kathryn had set out early that day, not just because she was excited to see Madoc but because she had received the surgeon’s report saying Madoc could do some light weight-bearing on his leg and more flexible cast. She smiled to herself- she didn’t think he would mind regardless of the reason. Kathryn pulled in as usual, but had to weave in and around a number of large black vehicles. She had never even seen a single car at Madoc’s, and now there were four. She swallowed her anxiety at the thought of going inside. Who could be visiting him? Had her message finally gotten through to his friends and family? Maybe he was hurt? She jumped out of her vehicle at that thought and ran up the stairs. Placing her hand on the pad by the doorframe, the door opened without pause. She raced into the entrance hall but couldn’t see anybody. She could hear a group of people talking in the kitchen, so she followed. As she came up to the room, she heard Madoc interrupt the chatter. “Okay, everyone shut-it, Kathryn will be here any moment, so here’s the plan one last time: take your tickets and portfolios, learn them inside and out. When Kathryn leaves, Adams will come back with his saw and take this cast off. We’ll meet you at the airport. The private plane will be waiting at sixteen-hundred hours and security knows to do the minimal frisk, but be smart and keep your weapons to a minimum. Adams, no switchblades.”

  Adams’ face fell. “Why…?” Madoc cut him off.

  “You know it makes them squirrely when they find five of them on you. We meet the client tonight at six, fly back by eight. Tuck, I need you to pick me up by nine tomorrow to drive me back to the hospital to be fitted for a new cast. Everybody got it?”

  Kathryn rounded the corner into the kitchen. “Yeah, I got it, now you mind telling me what the fuck is going on before I finish dialling nine-one-one and inform them about the ‘minimal weapons’ you’re taking on this plane?”

  All eyes in the room shifted to her. She had definitely leapt into action without thinking it through. She scanned the room and realized everyone was over six-feet tall and massive; even Charlie came close to matching the men’s heights. Max sauntered into the room, looking at her cautiously, but surprised her as he came and sat beside her. Madoc came forward on his crutches. “Kathryn, you are here very early. How did you get in?” Kathryn’s mouth dropped.

  “That’s the question you ask me? How did I get in? I’m serious, explain now or I press send.” Kathryn pushed the phone near his face. Adams stepped forward from behind Madoc.

  “Do you want me to get rid of her?” he asked. Kathryn’s face turned white as she looked up at the mammoth-sized man with tribal tattoos running up and around his neck, arms, hands, chest and skull. Kathryn took a step back, her back hit the door frame. Max stepped between her and Adams and bared his teeth at him. Madoc smirked. He had a feeling this was going to hurt Adam’s feelings. Madoc turned to the team behind him. “Everyone out, I’ll see you tonight. Don’t say another fucking thing.” Madoc narrowed his eyes at Tuck and Charlie. Adams shrugged and turned to leave, giving Max a reassuring pet on the way out. The rest of the team picked up their items and slowly made their way past Max, who was still on guard, and Kathryn, who still had her phone up in the air. Tuck and Charlie both made sympathetic faces at Kathryn as they passed her, but didn’t say a word.

  Kathryn turned back to Madoc as she heard the last person close the door. Max relaxed and padded over to the large bay window, where he flopped down, his head on his paws. “What the fuck Madoc! Who the hell are you people? No more lies.” Kathryn wanted to go sit down at the table—she was feeling exhausted, but she knew better than to let down her guard. She needed answers and she needed them now. Madoc turned away from Kathryn, peering over Max and out the window.

  “We’re not bad people Kathryn. We’re a security team, and we protect people,” he said, trying to calm the situation. She looked like a skittish kitten to him right now and he felt bad. He gave her ample time to process his words and respond when ready. Kathryn lowered her phone a foot but her white knuckles continued to tremble.

  “Then why lie to me?” Madoc opened his hands to her in response, pleading in his own way.

  “I have to lie to everyone Kathryn, not just you. Every doctor, nurse, insurance person. There is nobody who knows about us, and it has to stay that way.” Kathryn lowered the phone, and Madoc’s shoulders slightly relaxed. He had not wanted to tackle her but would have had to if she had pushed the button. He didn’t know what he would do next, but exposure was not an option. Kathryn looked out the window. Madoc could tell that she was hurt.

  “Why would you have to remove your cast? Do you know how badly that is going to turn out for you? Do you not care about all the work we have put in, about getting better? Why not just sit this all out until you’re healed?” She turned back and finally made eye contact with this last question. Madoc sighed. He knew she couldn’t understand.

  “Kathryn, some things are bigger than one person’s wellbeing.”

  Kathryn turned and looked back out the window. “I don’t believe that and I think this is about your ego. You’re too arrogant to listen when someone is telling you that you are making a mistake”

  “Kathryn, I’m not going to sit here and argue with you. I recognize that you can’t understand, but I am attending that meeting tonight and will have a new cast fitted tomorrow for our session. Don’t make a big deal about it. I’d like us to move on.” Kathryn slowly crossed her arms and lowered her head. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. He had asserted himself over her and he didn’t know how she was taking it. He almost wished she would blow up—silence was so hard to judge. After a lengthy pause, Kathryn looked up at Madoc, her voice emotionless. “Your sessions will continue until the eight sessions are completed. Our agencies have signed a contract. I am going to fully document that you removed your cast and jeopardized our progress to protect myself and my reputation should you ever decide that I’m the bad guy. Ju
st so you hear it officially, I am strongly recommending you do not get onto a plane tonight or remove your cast. There is a good chance you will cause your leg to swell, which could severely affect your burns and skin grafts.” Kathryn took a deep breath and continued. “I am going to involve an occupational therapist, as we mentioned before and I will not disclose anything you have mentioned—BUT I do not want anybody else here during our sessions besides Tuck. I expect him to be at all future appointments, but I don’t want to be near any of those other psychopaths. Once the eight sessions are done, we are done—no more. Got it?” She waited for him to reject one of her demands, but he simply nodded. Kathryn turned and walked out of the kitchen towards the door. Madoc got to his crutches and followed her out. She was almost out when she spun around, Madoc almost crashing into her from behind. Kathryn looked up into his eyes. “How am I supposed to trust that you are telling the truth and are not just going to have me snuffed out as soon as I leave here? That guy with the tattoos seemed ready and willing to clean up your mess for you. You could be drug dealers for all I know.”

  Madoc paused for a long moment, looking down at her. “Tomorrow you are going to hear in the news that four suspected terrorists are somewhere near Canada. You can research tonight: this is not in the news yet. It is top secret. Meaning that you can’t say anything. The meeting we are having tonight will be about releasing that information and as soon as you hear the headlines tomorrow, you’ll know that I was telling the truth. If you don’t hear or see anything about it than you can cancel all of our sessions and never come back here. I will say that we finished the therapy and give you a glowing review. Deal?”

  Kathryn look hard into his eyes, looking for any sign of a lie. “Fine. But just so you know my office will have dates, locations, maps and emergency contact instructions for all of our upcoming visits. Not only have you been lying to me this whole time, but I’m beginning to realize you could care less how this all affects me, my reputation, my safety and my trust in clients. Your next session is scheduled for tomorrow at one PM, please be prepared ten minutes before and have your caregiver with you. Thank you Mr. Pearson.” With that, Kathryn opened the door and left like a cold, stale breeze in winter.

  Madoc turned slowly away from the door and dialed his phone. Adams picked up immediately. “Can you come by with the saw now?”

  “Yup, on my way,” the low voice said and hung up. Madoc always did what he wanted and needed to do—that was the sign of a leader, but what he hadn’t wanted to do was hurt Kathryn. It had been hard to speak to her like that and even harder to hear her cold responses. Her wall was back up and any chemistry they’d built together was gone. He could only be thankful that she had agreed to return tomorrow. He also hoped like hell that his cast-cutting experiment wouldn’t turn out as bad as she described.

  Chapter 15

  Madoc looked out into the dark abyss that was flying by at 300 miles per hour and began to see sparkling city lights below. He was in a reflective trance, replaying the day’s events over and over as the plane came closer to the Capital. The pilot announced overhead that they would be landing in ten minutes and that the helicopter was waiting. Madoc nodded to their air steward, for another scotch. Madoc kept going over the moment Kathryn had barged into the kitchen. If only he had told Kennedy to bring the portfolios to the board room instead of dropping them off upstairs. He just hadn’t wanted to see her again so soon after their last meeting, but that had been a stupid gut decision, both careless and unprofessional. Something had begun to change with Kathryn at that session. He was starting to care about an actual person, not just an assignment. As the plane touched down and slowed to a stop, Madoc looked back at his team members and saw eyes filled with anxiety. They were worried about the Kathryn situation instead of the mission—this was not what he needed.

  “Okay team, obviously what happened at the house was unexpected, but I’ve dealt with it so let it go. Seriously.” He looked at each person. “We have very specific goals tonight: give intel on the ‘four diamonds’ to the client; provide advice to their questions for strategies to move forward; and help them develop a plan. Do not, and I mean it, do not mention the bomb in Tunisia. We were there, it was not the right time for the client to follow, so we left. Got it?” Again he looked around and ended with Charlie. She was at the greatest risk of blurting out something without thinking.

  She stared back at Madoc, “Yes, I’ve got it Madoc”. With that promise, Madoc turned and descended the plane stairs, fighting desperately to avoid the natural limp his body tried to add to his gait and gritting his teeth through the searing pain in his bones. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbled to himself as he headed slowly but methodically towards the helicopter waiting to skirt them away.

  “As you know from our debriefing notes sent yesterday, the ‘four diamonds’ as we are calling them are expected to cross into Canada somewhere at the Detroit or Syracuse border or both.” The defence minister walked around the board table as she spoke. “There is also a chance that they split up and that some remain in the US, while one or more moved into Canada. Although our passport-tracker program with the US allows us to see which passports they used to get there, it is likely they are working with different ones now. The US were good to let us know. Does your team have any intel that could assist us?” she asked, looking at Charlie. The defence minister Col. White had been the referral source for Madoc’s team, given her mysterious connection with Marshall. They had both remained tight-lipped about their relationship, but when Col. White had called asking for their involvement, Marshall had been they only one she would speak with directly. At five-foot-two, forty years old, and with an outstanding military background, she was a pit bull. She also had the body and energy of a twenty-five-year-old.

  Charlie explained their recent upgrades to certain algorithms that could track oddities across multiple sites and systems. This, she said, meant that multiple borders or international airports could be entered into the equation. The backgrounds, reasons for travel, car rental, travel companions and seat prices of passengers were factored in to give you a risk ratio for each passenger. This was the newest technology being used at an international level, but Charlie only knew this because of her illegal hacking. She had to be very careful not to give away too much information that could put her or the team in the crosshairs.

  General Edward Macintosh, tall, stoic with jet black hair and shrewd eyes was sitting to the left of the Prime Minister, spoke up next. “We know that the four individuals go by the name ‘Shabdkosh,’ meaning ‘Snakehead’. They’ve been code-named ‘four diamonds’ by MI6 secret intelligence since their discovery following Saddam Hussain’s capture. We don’t have much intel on them other than that they seem to be a security team hired by Saddam. Do you have anything else?” He looked towards Madoc, who was sitting square in the middle of his team. Madoc nodded subtly to Marshall, who took over in his soft-but-firm voice. “From what we know, the ‘four diamonds,’ or Shabdkosh, is a black ops team for hire in the Middle East. Two are said to be trained out of Saudi Arabia and two from Pakistan. Unlikely pairing, but their elite education started when they all attended the same private school in Switzerland. They are what we call ‘block and strike ops,’ meaning that they can be purchased to do defensive work, much like the work our team does for you, or offensive work, like assassinations or attacks. They are experts in problem-solving using muscle and weaponry, not so much using intelligence and espionage. They will work for anyone.” Marshall paused, waiting for questions, but could tell his clients wanted more by their enraptured faces. “They travel from regime to dictator to terrorist group, where they are hired for specific projects. They do not leave the Middle East, given that their tactics and approaches would be quickly discovered in Europe and America, but don’t mistake me: they are good at what they do and they get out quickly without being seen or heard. The only reason we know of them is due to financial paperwork discovered after Saddam’s toppling.” Marshall kne
w to stop and let Madoc finish at this point in the debriefing. Madoc always ultimately decided and delivered the strategy to the clients.

  Madoc turned back to the Prime Minister who had been sitting quietly and composed between his general and his minister of defense. Madoc was quiet. His leg competed for mental energy as the throbbing intensified. The skin burned and pulsed with each heartbeat and he could feel his muscle swelling with each minute that passed by. The walk into the building off the helicopter had seemed like a walk up a mountain. He was scared to even look at it. He picked up the glass of water and took a long swig, swallowing the pain. “We think the four diamonds were hired to prevent you from meeting with the officials in Tunisia. Somehow word got out that you’ve been bridging lower-level political and familial diplomatic ties that will likely affect terrorist black market trade in the greater region. Your liberal approach is being noticed by the criminal world and in the Middle East and they want to find a way to hit one of the members of your team and force you to return home with your tail between your legs. Because we stopped you from going, our best bet is that they are being paid big bucks to travel here and engage in an offensive against a member of your team and/or a citizen population.” Madoc took a pause and let the words sink in.

  The Prime Minister was quiet for several seconds before asking the million-dollar question. “Why not just hit me, aren’t I the big target?”

  Madoc frowned. “There is more than one way to skin a cat, Mr. Prime Minister. If they hit one of your team members or, and I hate to say it, your family members, it would likely distract you for the next year from your current diplomatic endeavours. If they engage in an attack on a citizen population, you will be under pressure to stay in the country and defend your nation. They derail you either way. That’s why we feel a major player has hired them, someone willing to pay big bucks to keep you out of the ring.” Madoc watched the inner cogs turning in his client.