by D. L. O'Neal
"We have some news, too."
Badger opened an eye. "Yeah? Good or bad?"
"Depends on your point of view. Someone knows enough about my past to twist it and use it against me. And he knew where to find Kalesia." Awareness erased the weariness in Wolf's eyes.
"I take it you got things straightened out. She's still here."
"She," Kalesia said, "is still here because she finally remembered he was one of the good guys. I may be slow," she leaned against Gabriel's side, but kept her gaze on Wolf, "but I'm not stupid."
Wolf grinned, just a faint movement of his lips. "Never thought you were."
"Dirty cop?" Badger asked, ignoring the byplay to focus on the implications of Gabriel's statement. "Damn, how the hell did that slip by us?" he asked the room at large.
"Looks that way. There's something else to be considered. The murderer not only knew where she was, but got his hands on pictures and reports."
"Hell's bells! That moth--" Gabriel glared at the man. Badger quickly got the hint and switched strides. "That means our man has friends in high places."
Wolf leaned forward. "Or a partner."
"That would explain the lack of information I found," Sam interjected thoughtfully. "Each alley seemed to turn into a dead end. I'll be honest. I've never come across such a complete nonexistence of information. In today's world, it's damn near impossible to avoid leaving some sort of trail, paper or electronic." He sounded disgruntled and betrayed by the absence of computer-generated footsteps.
"Interesting," Gabriel commented.
"Ain't it just." An air of grimness settled over the drawn faces.
Gabriel laced his fingers with Kalesia's. Her fingers tightened around his. "I had Harley bait a trap. We'll know in a few days if I caught anything."
"Plan to use our cop with the big mouth to catch bigger fish?" Wolf asked.
"Uh huh." Gabriel thought hard for a minute. "Sam, see what similarities you discover about those deaths linked to Crump. Maybe we're coming at this from the wrong angle. Also see if you can find out who had accessed my files lately."
"Already working on it," was the laconic reply.
"What line is Harley going to drop to catch our man?" Wolf asked curiously an hour later. The hour had been spent working out a plan that would allow the men to remain nearby as extra protection for Kalesia.
"He's going to let it be known that I ran arms and drugs to the VC at the end of the war. Sold our boys out. And that I continued my little entrepreneurial enterprise after coming back to the world."
Wolf whistled softly. "Better walk softly on that one, friend. There's still a lot of bad feeling. A lot of guys lost buddies and they remember."
Kalesia spun around to face Gabriel, alarmed. "I didn't realize it was going to be that dangerous. Call it off. We'll find another way to make the informant reveal himself." Her heart began pounding. Harley had protested initially, but Gabriel had brushed it off so casually that Kalesia had assumed there would be more mist than substance to any danger. The plan was to draw out the informant, not set Gabriel up as the recipient of retribution.
The fingers of his free hand began a soothing motion on her thigh. "Wolf's exaggerating."
"Don't lie to protect me, Gabriel. I don't want to be insulated from the truth. If this is going to cause you to get hurt, I refuse to let you do it," Kalesia stated adamantly, setting her chin at a stubborn angle. Let the man squawk all he wanted. She was not going to be the cause of him being injured. Gabriel had been hurt too many times in the past.
His lips tightened. "There's some danger involved," he admitted reluctantly, "but nothing I can't handle. This is the quickest, most expedient method of finding out who is behind the threat. And it's my choice."
"No, it's my choice. I'm the one that's being threatened. Please try to understand," Kalesia whispered, her mouth dry at the very thought of what could happen.
Gabriel didn't soften. "You wanted expert advice and help. You're getting it."
Kalesia bit her lip. She had the awful feeling she was going to lose this battle. "And if you get killed, what then? How am I supposed to live with the knowledge that your death was my fault?"
"I knew the risks going in," he told her softly. "If," he stressed the word, "anything happens to me, it won't be your fault." Gabriel raised his hand to brush her cheek with his thumb, a light, tender caress. Kalesia flinched. His hand fell. "It has to be this way. Time is growing short and we needed a solid lead."
Kalesia quit arguing. Her shoulders slumped at the hard glitter in his eyes. Gabriel was determined and nothing was going to change his mind, certainly not her fears for his safety. A few minutes later, she excused herself and went to bed.
Kalesia tossed and turned restlessly, aware of low murmurs from downstairs. Why couldn't she convince Gabriel not to go ahead with this plan? There was no sense in him risking his life. The man could be so damn hardheaded at times. He also had an overgrown sense of protectiveness. He'd do anything to keep her safe. Even if it meant risking his own life.
A small sigh slipped out in the dark. If she were truthful with herself, she'd admit she'd known from the beginning what his reaction would be. Gabriel wouldn't back down from what he saw as his responsibility. Kalesia punched her pillow viciously. A woman's fears or tears wouldn't deter him from what he felt he had to do.
Damn male honor code!
Men could be so blasted stupid at times. As if she wanted her safety at the cost of his own. Men could also be so determinedly stubborn.
Kalesia slipped into sleep, but it was an uneasy rest. She wasn't aware when Gabriel quietly closed the door behind him, undressed in the dark, folded his clothes with precise neatness and slid into bed, gathering her close. Hours later, she instinctively snuggled closer to his warmth, seeking a safe harbor from the images forming in her mind.
She turned, the hay rustling softly under her feet. He was waiting for her. A gun rested casually in his fist. It wasn't pointed at her. Not yet. But it wouldn't be long before the short, ugly snout spit a bullet that would rip through her. She couldn't outrun death.
His hand lifted. Gold glittered in the muted light falling through the cracks in the barn's roof.
There was a sharp crack....
Kalesia screamed and bolted upright, her breath catching painfully in her chest as her hand touched her ribs, expecting to find the wetness of blood. Beside her, Gabriel surged up, eyes alert and hard even as his hand reached unerringly for the knife under the edge of the bed.
"What is it? What's wrong, Kalesia?" His eyes searched the shadows. He asked the question in a hard whisper that barely reached her ears. Someone an arms-length away wouldn't have heard him. Light gleamed dully on the knife he held in his hand.
Kalesia had to pull her scattered thoughts together, unable to believe that her fingers were actually dry. "Oh, I'm sorry, Gabriel. I didn't mean to wake you."
The bedroom door suddenly slammed open and Wolf came across the threshold, down low and fast. Badger and Sam covered his entrance from the doorway, guns drawn.
Kalesia froze, afraid the slightest movement might trigger an instinctive response from the dangerously alert men. Beside her, Gabriel drawled, "I counted a full eighteen seconds until you arrived. I suppose better late than never."
Wolf tucked the small, lethal weapon into the waist of his jeans, at the small of his back. White teeth gleamed in the dark as he retorted sardonically, "Be thankful for small favors. We could have caught you at a particularly vulnerable moment, deflating the mood as it were."
Kalesia's face flamed. She was thankful it was too dark to see the searing heat in her cheeks. "Enough, you two!"
"Yeah, where the hell are your manners? There is a lady present," Badger objected righteously. He turned toward Kalesia. "Ignore these two uncouths. Obviously, their mammies neglected an important area of their education." He grinned maliciously at the two men. Sam stood, arms crossed over his chest, enjoying the show once the adrenaline rush fr
om the false alarm had subsided to a manageable level.
"Badger, the day you can give me lessons in manners is the day you can...." Gabriel began.
"Why do I sense this conversation is about to become unfit for decent folks?" Kalesia asked, glad to have the taut atmosphere lighten.
"This from the woman who tracked down the meaning of REMF?" Gabriel reminded her dryly.
"That was totally different," Kalesia sniffed, an involuntary smile tugging at her lips as she remembered Gabriel's reaction.
"Ahem. If I might interrupt this fascinating conversation with a mundane question," Sam stepped in adroitly, earning a grateful glance from Kalesia. "Why the scream? I might add it took years off my life." Her smile changed to a faint glare.
Gabriel shot Wolf a dirty look. "No, it wasn't what you're thinking." Wolf only grinned wider. Gabriel turned toward Kalesia. "I'd like to hear the answer to that one myself."
He bent over and replaced the knife in its scabbard. The sheath was secured to the underside of the box springs.
Kalesia cleared her throat, uncomfortable at being the cynosure of undivided attention. "I really am sorry for the uproar. It was nothing really."
"What nothing, Kalesia," Gabriel persisted implacably.
"It was my vision," she finally admitted. She darted a glance at the now silent men, daring them to make fun of her.
"Was it the same as the last?" Gabriel asked her, his voice gentle and understanding.
Kalesia drew random circles on the sheet by her thigh, avoiding the sympathetic gazes, afraid she would break down. "Yes, it was the same. I was shot."
"Exactly the same?"
Her brow creased at his persistence. "I'm not sure." She hesitated, then added, "I think so."
"Tell us what you remember." Gabriel reached and covered her hand. She twisted it around until she could clasp his with desperate strength. Gabriel's hand closed about her smaller one with reassuring firmness.
"It's all right, love. Tell us everything you can remember," Gabriel coaxed. He reached over and flipped on the lamp on the nightstand.
Kalesia took a deep breath. There was such an inevitable feel to her visions now. "I remember hay under my feet. It made a rustling sound in the silence. I sensed I was no longer alone, and turned. He was there, waiting for me."
The quiet horror in her voice affected Gabriel deeply. He looked around and saw his friends were equally moved. They were hardened, accustomed to violence, experienced in all its applications. They understood violence, lived with it, used it, but there was something so vulnerable and untainted about Kalesia that the idea she would be touched by violence's embrace was obscene.
"What did he look like?" Wolf inserted quietly.
Her brows dipped and there was bewilderment in her huge, emerald eyes. "I--I don't know." She shrugged, distress replacing the earlier emotion. "I'm sorry. I'm really trying to remember, but his features always remain blurred."
"Don't worry about it. We'll find him. Go on," Gabriel urged, restraining the urge to gather her close, protect her from outside forces. To hide from the truth would have devastating results.
"I saw the gun this time."
"What did it look like?"
"It was small enough to fit in a jacket pocket. The bore was smallish. It had a clip." Kalesia played with a fold in the sheet. "That's not much help, I know."
"Hey, every little bit helps. Tomorrow we'll have you look at some pictures of pistols and see if anything rings a bell." Badger gave her a confident grin.
"When he lifted the gun and aimed," Kalesia drew a long shuddering breath before continuing, "I could feel the impact. I have the impression the bullet shattered. But that doesn't make any sense." She halted in obvious frustration.
"It does if the bastard used hollow points," Wolf said absentmindedly, his gaze unfocused as if he were deep in thought.
"Hollow points?" Kalesia asked.
"Hollow points are bullets designed to expand on impact, allowing for the maximum amount of damage. They can be very effective even if a slight case of overkill."
Kalesia paled. Gabriel was immediately aware of her distress and sent Wolf a black look. "It won't happen, Kalesia. I promised to protect you."
She smiled wanly. "I know. It's just so...so horrible. I trust you, it's just hard to shake the effects of the vision."
"You're doing great," Sam reassured her. "You've given us several new leads. Now, get some sleep. We'll start working on them in the morning," he advised kindly.
"SO, DO ANY of them ring a bell?" Badger spread out a series of pictures. Kalesia studied them all carefully, but her eyes kept coming back to one. She pointed with assurance.
"That one. That's the one I saw in my vision."
The weapon she pointed to was a 9mm modified Smith & Wesson Model 39, what the Navy called Mark 22, Mod.O Pistol. It had another, less formal, name: the Hush-puppy. The gun was relatively small and easy to conceal.
Wolf spoke up. "John Crump was killed with a 9mm." The observation dropped like a stone.
"Sam, what did you find out about the other murders?" Gabriel asked grimly. The other men were just as somber.
"That there were more than we originally thought. Through pure chance I latched onto several murders outside the U.S. that match our M.O. It's going to be hard to prove they're our guy's, though. The killings range wide, from South and Central America to Africa. Hell, for all I know, there might be more. However, none were killed with a 9mm, silenced or otherwise. But there does seem to be similarities. All of the victims were either involved in drugs or arms, and all killed in the same manner. They were--"
"Kalesia," Gabriel interrupted, "this is going to be a long morning. Why don't you go make some coffee?"
It was patently obvious Gabriel was trying to protect her from the more gruesome details. While she appreciated his intent, she wasn't about to be left in the dark. She pinned him with a level look. "I can handle it. I'd rather know the facts than have to imagine them." Gabriel tried to stare her down. When she refused to look away, he nodded for Sam to continue.
"They were shot once, in the left eye." Kalesia winced. "Their wrists were laced tightly together behind their backs and they were kneeling when shot. The really odd thing, though, were the marks on their cheeks. Three black slashes. More than one account likened them to a tiger's stripe."
Wolf made a sound. Sam stopped and tilted his head inquiringly.
Wolf ignored everyone except Gabriel. "Sound familiar?"
Gabriel's lips thinned. He nodded shortly. "Yeah."
"What?" Kalesia glanced from one man to the other. She'd never seen quite that expression on either man's face before.
Wolf deferred to Gabriel. "Southeast Asia was a hotbed of drugs at the time of the Vietnam War. It wasn't that unusual for some industrious soldier to start a sideline business. The military frowned upon such extracurricular activity but was virtually helpless to prevent it. There was this one operation the Army was determined to shut down. Every time they got close, however, someone wound up dead."
A chill of premonition slid down Kalesia's spine. "They were shot in the," she hesitated, "eye after their hands were tied," she guessed, keeping her voice steady with an effort.
"Not just tied, but laced to the elbow, with parachute nylon. And they had three stripes on each cheek. And the caliber was 9mm." Gabriel's right hand slowly closed into a fist. "I should have put it together a lot sooner. Crump. I saw the coroner's pictures, read the report and still missed it." He slowly straightened his hand. Kalesia had the impression he wanted to crush something, and was just barely controlling himself.
"Are you saying that after all these years, the same man murdered Crump?"
"He had the stripes and was bound to the elbows with cord. Nylon. There are too many similarities to even try to put it down to mere coincidence." Badger answered Kalesia's question.
"Damn," Wolf cursed succinctly.
"What is it? What's wrong, Wolf?" Kalesia demand
ed, silently cursing the distinct wobble in her voice.
"Gabriel had Harley drop the story he ran arms and drugs in Vietnam. The killer is liable to believe Gabriel knows more than he does. It's liable to spook him into coming after Gabe before we're ready."
"No! Gabriel, call it off. This goes far beyond smoking him out." Her heart sank at the familiar stubborn set of his jaw.
"It's too late for that, Kalesia," Gabriel told her quietly, a chilling expression in his eyes. "Nothing has changed. We wanted to spook him. This just plays into our hands."
"We didn't want to spook him into coming after you," Kalesia denied hotly. "We were supposed to be rooting out an informant by seeing if he passes along the information." Gabriel infuriated her by shrugging casually.
"So the plan has modified."
"Damn you, Gabriel Steele. If you get hurt, I'll--I'll kill you myself!" Kalesia threatened.
Leaning forward, he pulled her into his lap with casual strength. Kalesia resisted for a moment, and then buried her face against his neck. "No, you wouldn't, little witch," he contradicted, tender laughter deepening his voice. "You'd cry and rant and rage, and then you'd patch me up."
"Hah!" she muttered, the words muffled against his throat. "Mangy tomcats don't need a woman's care."
"This mangy tomcat does," Gabriel corrected, close to her ear.
Something inside Kalesia unfurled. Gabriel had come close to saying he loved her. She couldn't lose him now. She wouldn't lose him now, she vowed to herself. "Promise you'll be careful?" she asked urgently.
"Promise," he murmured, lowering his head to take her lips.
"I think I'll go outside and watch the plants grow. I'm too young to witness this." Wolf settled deeper in his chair.
"Hit me, Samuel," Badger begged theatrically, pointing to his chin. "I could use a little TLC."
"Knock it off, clowns," Gabriel growled. Kalesia started to get off Gabriel's lap, highly embarrassed that she had forgotten the presence of the other men, but he pulled her back, refusing to let her go.
"If you two need a little quality time, I could go check the mail," Sam offered, tongue-in-cheek.