Light of the Last

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Light of the Last Page 11

by Chuck Black


  “Why Carlyle? Couldn’t another lead Carter to Messiah?” Crenshaw asked.

  “Carlyle certainly has the strongest influence on him, but you’re right. There is another, and we just about lost him the last time Carter was in Chicago. We will need to provide cover for Reverend Branson and his family too.”

  Sason let out a low whistle. “You sure you got enough warriors, boss? Multiple assets to protect and only eight of us against who knows how many Fallen. If this is as high risk as you say, we could be outgunned in a heartbeat.”

  “Perhaps, but when two of our assets converge, so do we and our strength is double. If at any point I think this might escalate to century- or legion-level conflict, Commander Malak has two legions on standby for us. You all know as well as I do that the Carter mission is just one of thousands in this region. I can’t jeopardize those missions unless I am absolutely sure it’s necessary. If I make the call prematurely, the consequences could be just as dire.”

  Sason nodded.

  “What we need during the next few days is intel, strategy, and precision.” Validus looked at the circle of extraordinary warriors he had gathered. “I’ve selected each of you for a purpose. You do what you do best, and I’ll make sure we have adequate force to accomplish the mission.”

  Each of them was on board.

  “Rake and Jayt, I want you covering Reverend Branson. If something goes down at the church, the warrior there, Teriel, will offer support. He knows the score. Brumak, Sason, and Persimus, you’re on Carlyle. Crenshaw, Tren is covering Carter. We’ll join him as soon as we dismiss. Any questions?”

  Six hours later, Drew was in a rental car heading for a hotel in downtown Chicago. He spent the next morning walking the streets of the Windy City, keeping an eye out for invaders.

  Fifteen minutes before noon, Drew tucked the Chicago Tribune under his arm and walked into Kally’s Bistro on Seventh and Fifteenth. He quickly scanned the restaurant. At the back he spotted the restroom sign and made his way there, capturing every detail and every face at the tables and in the booths as he went. Two girls taking a break from shopping, husband and wife meeting for lunch, man by himself expecting no one, divorced father with son and daughter for the weekend, young man waiting…waiting for his girlfriend.

  Drew recognized Willis from his search. He was good-looking—wavy brown hair, dark eyes, clean-cut, religious—just Sydney’s type. He even had a worn Bible on the table off to the side.

  Drew made his way to the hall at the back of the bistro, passing a doorway that led to a set of tables under an awning outdoors. He went down the hallway, opened the door to the bathroom, and washed his hands in the sink. He ripped a paper towel from the dispenser a little harder than he had intended and looked in the mirror.

  “This was a bad idea, Carter. You’re just tormenting yourself.”

  Then he realized the torment was subconsciously what he wanted. Perhaps if the pain was deep enough, he would finally let her go. He clenched his teeth and resolved to see it out.

  He had already mapped out the room and chosen his position. There were tables spaced throughout the center of the dining area and high-backed booths along the glass wall, which looked onto the outside tables under the awning. Willis was in one of the booths. Drew sat in the booth behind Willis, back to back with the man who was stealing his lovely Sydney.

  “What can I get for you?” he heard the waitress ask Willis with a hint of sass.

  “I’m waiting for someone, but I’ll take a raspberry tea while I wait,” Willis replied.

  “Sure.”

  Drew heard the scratching of a pen on an order pad. A few seconds later, the waitress sidestepped and asked Drew the same question. He pointed to the smoked turkey sandwich about the same time he heard the door to the restaurant open.

  “Want anything to drink besides water?”

  Drew shook his head, hoping to be rid of her so he could focus on the table behind him. The waitress left.

  Drew picked up a knife and polished it, then positioned it so he could see the reflection of the front of the bistro behind him. The slender form of a young woman was walking toward him. When she was nearly to the booth, Drew recognized Sydney, and his pulse quickened. It had been eighteen months since he last saw her. She was more beautiful than his memories, and he had to consciously remind himself to stay seated and out of her life.

  “Hey, babe!” Willis called, and Drew had the urge to hit him.

  “Hi, Dustin.” Hearing her voice was almost harder than seeing her. Drew bit his lip as he watched Willis stand up and hug her.

  Drew opened his newspaper, pretending to read one of the articles inside. The paper acted as a parabolic sound antenna, amplifying everything in the restaurant. He closed his eyes and focused on just the sounds coming from the booth behind him.

  “Are we meeting for something special?” Sydney asked.

  “No, sweetheart. I know you’re busy tonight, and I couldn’t wait until church tomorrow to see you, so I thought a lunch today might be nice.”

  “How thoughtful. I’m glad; this is nice.”

  Drew was trying to interpret Sydney’s tone, but he wasn’t sure. It had been so long since he’d seen her. He couldn’t tell if she was completely taken with Willis.

  Drew listened for fifty minutes as he ate and pretended to read. Their talk was trivial—work, friends, God, church. Willis seemed to have that one element that Drew never could quite swallow—belief in an all-knowing, all-powerful God.

  Near the end of the meal, Sydney excused herself to go to the restroom, and Drew lifted the paper high around himself. As she walked by, her perfume teased him with memories of the past. He closed his eyes.

  When she returned, she grabbed her jacket. “I’m sorry, Dustin, but I have to be at work in a few minutes. This was really nice, though. Thank you.”

  Willis stood up, and Drew could hear them embrace. “I’m glad you liked it, babe. Can I pick you up for church tomorrow?”

  “Sure. I’ll be ready at nine.”

  “Awesome. I have to stay to get the check, but you have a great rest of the day.”

  “Thanks. You too.”

  Drew heard the soft click of Sydney’s shoes walking away. He hung his head and knew it was over. The pain was indeed great, but it was time for him to completely let her go. He folded the paper, took a deep breath, and grabbed the ticket the waitress had just placed on his table. He slid to the edge of the seat.

  “Dude, how’s it going?”

  Drew stopped. He turned his head and got a glimpse through the vertical slats of the booth’s high-back of another guy sliding into the seat opposite Willis, where Sydney had been sitting.

  “Got her eating out of my hand. Another couple of months and she’ll be ready,” Willis replied.

  Drew slid back into his seat.

  “You are ice cold, man. Are you sure you can pull this off? You sure it’s worth it?”

  Willis stifled a laugh. He lowered his voice, but Drew had no problem hearing him. His senses were peaked. “Her dad is filthy rich. All I have to do is keep up this religious garbage a little longer, and I’m on easy street.” Drew heard Willis thump the Bible on the table. “Listen, I was raised in this nonsense, and these fundamental freaks are taught to obey their husbands. Why wouldn’t it be worth it? Money and a wife who does what I say. And when I’m tired of her, I’ll get my thrills with some other lonely gorgeous babe.”

  Was this some joke Willis was playing on his friend? He considered the tone and reevaluated what he’d just heard. No, Sydney was definitely being conned.

  “I’m telling you, I know a guy who pulled this off, and he is living the good life.” Willis chuckled and his friend joined in the laughter.

  Drew couldn’t take it anymore. He left money on the table to cover the ticket, then slid out of the booth and made his way to the door that led to the outdoor tables so neither of the men would see him. He maneuvered through the tables under the awning and stepped over
the waist-high black iron fence and onto the sidewalk. He circled back to the front of the bistro and reentered.

  His mind was racing with all sorts of wild ideas, most of them ending with Willis in serious condition in the hospital. He considered telling Sydney outright but realized he couldn’t do that and keep his cover. He had to think of another way.

  He hesitated as he looked toward the booth where the two men sat. Drew wanted nothing more than to permanently wipe their silly Cheshire grins off their faces.

  “You can seat yourself,” the girl at the till said with a smile.

  Drew gave her a quick smile, then walked toward the booth, nearly trembling in anger. He used the last few strides to get control of himself and play his role.

  He stopped beside the booth and stared down at the two men. Willis was to his left and the other weasel was to his right. As the men looked up at Drew, he glared at them with a face of stone. No one said anything.

  Just as Willis was opening his mouth to speak, Drew cut him off. “Dustin T. Willis?”

  Willis squinted. “Maybe. Who are you?”

  Drew pulled out his CIA Special Agent badge and flashed it so both men could see. “I’m Special Agent Grady, and I need to talk to you.” He looked at the weasel friend. “Alone!”

  “How do we know you’re legit?” the weasel asked.

  Drew slowly put the badge back into the inside breast pocket of his jacket. He held the jacket open far enough for the weasel to get a glimpse of his FN Five-Seven. Then he leaned toward the guy and smiled. “You’ll know real quick unless you leave…now!”

  The weasel glanced at Willis, then slid out of the booth and left. Drew took his place in the booth and crossed his hands in front of him as he stared Willis in the eye.

  “I…I haven’t done anything. What do you want with me?”

  Drew pursed his lips and let the moment work for him. “We’ve been following you for some time, Mr. Willis, ever since you started seeing a Miss Sydney Carlyle three months ago.” He waited, letting Willis react.

  Willis’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Why would the CIA care about that?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Drew scolded. “Do you know who Mr. Carlyle is, Mr. Willis?”

  Willis squirmed in his seat. “He’s the owner of a small aircraft manufacturing plant in Wichita, Kansas.”

  Drew nodded, even though he’d had no idea. Sydney never acted like a rich kid, and why was she in Rivercrest if her dad owned a plant in Wichita?

  “Actually Mr. Carlyle is an international arms dealer, and his aircraft manufacturing company is a front. We’ve been trying to get close to him to get enough evidence to bring him down. So far we’ve been unsuccessful. That’s why we’re coming to you.”

  Willis swallowed hard and glanced nervously around the restaurant. “I…I don’t understand. What can I do? I don’t know anything.”

  Drew leaned forward on his forearms as if to tell even deeper secrets. “You’re dating Mr. Carlyle’s daughter. We want you to be our man on the inside, gathering evidence that we can use to bring his operation down. It would be a noble service to our country, Mr. Willis.”

  “But I—”

  “Before you answer, I need to warn you about the risks. Mr. Carlyle is a very dangerous man. We have reason to believe that he has eliminated people he considered a threat, and his international ties are even more ruthless.”

  Drew let Willis absorb that. The man rubbed the back of his neck. Drew could see sweat forming on his forehead.

  “But Sydney seems so innocent. And the whole church thing…I’ve met him.”

  Drew nodded. “We suspect that Miss Carlyle doesn’t know about her father’s illegal dealings. He’s kept her isolated. And what more perfect cover for an arms dealer than a faithful church attendee?” He clenched his teeth. “People who fake their religious beliefs are some of the lowest scum of the earth.”

  He watched Willis cringe.

  “We would protect you as much as possible, but in some situations you would be on your own. As soon as we have enough evidence, we will arrest him and seize all his assets. When we’re done with him, he’ll be spending the rest of his life in prison and won’t have a dime to his name. It should only take a few months, if you’re efficient.”

  Willis’s eyes were getting wider with each piece of information Drew fed him. Drew could see the anxiety mounting.

  “What’s in it for me?” Willis asked.

  Drew tilted his head. “What’s in it for you?” he asked, his voice filled with surprise.

  “Yeah. You know, what do I get if I do this?”

  “Well, you would have the honor of knowing you served this great country and saved many—”

  “What?” Willis’s voice was incredulous. He tried to control the volume but his tone was intense. “You want me to risk my life for months and all I get is a ‘good job’? You’re nuts! No way! No way in heck would I do this!”

  Drew had known all along exactly how an honorless guy like Willis would react. He held up his hand. “Calm down, Mr. Willis.”

  Willis started to get out of the booth, but Drew reached across and grabbed his arm.

  “Sit down, Mr. Willis, or the meal you just ate may be your last.” Drew glowered at him.

  “What do you mean?” Willis asked, his voice quavering.

  Drew released his grip, and Willis settled back into his seat.

  “I’m sorry to hear that you won’t do this for your country, but unfortunately by dating Mr. Carlyle’s daughter, you’ve already placed yourself in a very precarious position.”

  “How so? I’ll just dump her and move on.”

  Drew shook his head. “With the resources available to Mr. Carlyle, don’t you think he already knows everything about you? Even though he’s a ruthless weapons dealer, he’s still a father who loves his daughter. You hurt her like that, believe me, her tears will not go unpunished.”

  Willis’s eyes revealed his swelling panic, and Drew was enjoying it far too much. He drove it home.

  “Her last boyfriend just disappeared. We still don’t know what happened to him.”

  Willis’s eyes nearly popped. He pointed a finger at Drew. “That’s right. She said something about that guy. She wouldn’t tell me what happened to him.” Willis began rubbing his upper arm with his hand. “Oh man…What…what do I do?” He was on the verge of a complete meltdown.

  Drew looked at Willis in disgust. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider going in as an operative for us?”

  Willis looked shocked. “No! No, of course not! I told you, that’s nuts!”

  Drew smirked. “Then I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for you.”

  He started to slide out of the booth. This time Willis reached across the table and grabbed Drew’s arm.

  “Please, Agent Grady, please help me! Surely there’s something you can do.”

  Drew hesitated and tried to look sympathetic. He sighed and settled back into his seat. “There’s only one way out of this for you. You’re going to have to disappear and run, and I mean far away. Northern Canada or Greenland would be your safest bet.”

  “But I don’t even have a passport. I can’t leave the country!”

  Drew shook his head again. “Then I suggest you get to the tip of northern Maine and hide out for the next two years. Maybe, just maybe, Mr. Carlyle will quit looking for you by then.”

  Willis put his head in his hands, but Drew kept working him.

  “I hope you realize that everything I just told you is classified. You can’t tell anyone anything about the Carlyle family. If word gets out and our investigation is jeopardized because you talked to someone, even your weasel friend, you’ll have more than Mr. Carlyle after you.”

  “When should I go?”

  Drew turned and scanned the restaurant. He looked skeptical. “You just had lunch with Miss Carlyle, right?”

  Willis nodded.

  Drew tilted his head. “Odds are that Mr. Carlyle had someo
ne watching you. If he’s still around and he’s seen me talking to you, then you probably have less than twenty-four hours to make your move.”

  Willis looked at Drew, and he thought the guy was going to cry. “My life is ruined. What have I done?”

  Drew looked at him sadly. “I guess you just messed with the wrong girl. Here.” He handed Willis a napkin and a pen.

  “What’s this for?”

  “I’m going to help you the best I can. You’re going to write a note to Miss Carlyle, and it might buy you enough time to get out of town.”

  “Okay. What do I write?”

  “Sydney, after much prayer I’ve come to the conclusion that God is telling me we are not right for each other.”

  “Yeah…yeah, this is good,” Willis said with enthusiasm. Drew wanted to punch him. He continued for Sydney’s sake.

  “I wanted to tell you yesterday but couldn’t bear to see you hurt. I’m leaving on a mission trip and may never see you again. I pray your life is filled with God’s love and peace. Dustin.”

  Willis finished writing and looked at Drew with a glimmer of hope. “Do you think this will do it? How do I get this note to her?”

  Drew took it from him. “Text her right now and say, ‘Something came up, and I can’t make it to church tomorrow. Please meet me at Kally’s at two. Same table.’ ”

  Willis typed with shaking hands. He hit Send and they waited. A few seconds later Sydney’s reply came. Drew snatched the phone out of Willis’s hands.

  Okay. Everything all right?

  Drew handed the phone back to Willis. “Type ‘Everything’s fine. See you tomorrow.’ ”

  Willis typed and hit Send.

  Drew stared at him. This scumbag had intended to destroy the most perfect girl Drew had ever met and her family. His punishment wasn’t nearly enough, but it would have to do.

  “That’s it. If you leave tonight you should have a twenty-hour head start. You need to ditch the phone, change your identity, and never come anywhere within four states of the Carlyle family again. Got it?”

  Willis nodded. “Okay, I got it.” He looked nervously around the bistro, then stood up and started walking.

 

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