Necessary Risk

by Sidney Bristol

  That was his Ivy. Ready to run into anything. He didn’t know how to feel about having a partner, but he didn’t doubt her one bit.

  SATURDAY. EVERGLADES. Florida.

  Ivy sank down farther in her seat as the wind whipped all around her body. The headphones helped block out most of the noise, but they also prevented conversation.

  Her body ached from all the sitting she’d been forced to do. At least she’d managed to sleep most of the trip. If she could thank the Army for anything it was the ability to sleep anywhere, anytime.

  A boat ride. Two planes. Another boat. And now an airboat sprint across the Everglades. All over forty-eight hours. Or had it been longer? Shorter? It blurred together to the point that she just couldn’t tell.

  At least she hadn’t needed to go through customs again. That had been a terrifying ordeal for her, despite no one noticing a single thing wrong with her passport. It had all been in her head.

  Piers’s hand wrapped around hers.

  She turned her head and mustered a smile for him.

  He hadn’t exactly been affectionate since they’d gotten the news. Not like the few hours between breakfast and getting their pictures taken. She appreciated the little gestures he did make even more. A brief handholding, a quick kiss. Despite his bad boy vibe, he was kind of awkward when it came to expressing those casual signs of affection. Which made each one that much more special.

  Piers tugged her sideways at the same moment the boat swerved. She shouldered him with a grunt. His arm wrapped around her. She sighed and gave into it.

  Despite the heat and humidity, it was kind of nice.

  That was the last thought she had before someone shook her none too gently.

  “Ivy? Ivy, wake up.”

  She lifted her head and blinked around. Her sunglasses coupled with the now setting sun made the whole world seem dark and gloomy. She was acutely aware of every hair now sticking to her face thanks to the sheen of sweat on her.

  “How do you sleep through everything?” Piers laughed and handed their headphones to the man who’d driven them from where the boat had dropped them off.

  Ivy pushed her glasses up, knuckled her eyes and stood, aware of the need to get on the road.

  The boat lurched and she bent her knees, moving with the motion.

  Piers and the driver stood on a rickety dock that had seen better days. He had both their bags. The setting sun made his hair look golden, and it also highlighted the dark circles under his eyes. Unlike her, she didn’t think he’d slept much.

  She carefully climbed up onto the dock after them but hung back while getting her bearings.

  A plane rose overhead, probably halfway to cruising altitude.

  That meant they were closer to Miami than she realized. A hell of a lot closer.

  It was past six. They had a fifteen, probably closer to sixteen hour drive to DC. Piers needed sleep. If he could rest in the car, she could easily drive them through the night. Worst case, they were in DC by noon tomorrow.

  And then what? Where did they begin to look?

  An old truck and a newer sedan sat in the small gravel lot. She doubted this place was any sort of official dock. So who did these vehicles belong to?

  She glanced around, but it was just them and the airboat driver.

  “Ivy,” Piers called out.

  She picked up the pace and stretched her legs. It felt good despite the soreness.

  Piers shook hands with the old man while twirling a set of keys with his other. “Really appreciate this.”

  The wind whipped the man’s reply to Piers away before she heard it. Not that she needed to. Ivy didn’t want to ask too many questions of people who had an easy way around the Coast Guard. The less she knew, the better.

  The man nodded one last time, glanced at her, then turned, keeping his back to her and headed toward the boat.

  Ivy came to stand in front of Piers, intentionally not looking at the boat or driver. The boat started up, droning everything out for a few moments. Piers seemed content to wait and watch, so she held her questions, listening to the boat’s sound growing fainter.

  “I think we’re good,” Piers said after a few moments, then turned toward the sedan.

  “They gave us a car?” She eyed the blue car.

  Was that a, Baby on Board, sticker?

  “I bought a car.” He popped the trunk. “Get in.”

  She spoke slowly, unsure how Piers would take her suggestion. He was a car guy, after all. “I was thinking, what if I drove us?”

  “Yeah?” He closed the trunk then tossed the keys at her. “Knock yourself out.”

  Ivy caught the keys and blinked at him a moment.

  That was easy.

  They circled to their respective side of the car and got in. She adjusted the seat while he fiddled with the air conditioner.

  “Should be a fairly straight shot up this gravel path to a farm road then the highway,” he said.

  “Okay.” She gripped the wheel and eased the car around. “Do I want to know what that man was hauling?”

  “Cigars.”

  “What?”

  “The guys who helped us today smuggle cigars into the country.”

  “Oh.” Ivy almost laughed.

  She could live with cigars.

  “I have a no drugs rule when it comes to people I actually work with,” Piers said.

  Ivy understood that now. With what happened to his sister, she didn’t see anything wrong with that kind of rule.

  He eased the seat back and stretched out his legs. She was a little jealous of that ability, but on the other hand she had slept. A lot.

  “We’re here,” he said. “I guess now we have to decide, what next?”

  The gravel road ended fifty or so yards at a line of asphalt.

  “Okay.” She leaned forward, peering both ways down the narrow paved road.

  They were completely alone out here.

  “DC is a big area,” he said.

  “The email said, Good luck next week. If that week coincides with the car delivery, then it could start as early as Monday. They’re still getting there early Monday morning, right?”

  “If what I got is right, yeah.”

  “Then what’s happening during the six or seven days after Monday?”

  Piers pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen.

  She settled in to wait while he dug around on the internet.

  “Shit,” he said after only a few seconds.

  “What? What is it?”

  Piers looked at her. “You know what’s Monday?”

  “No. What?”

  “Halloween.”

  “That’s too soon to be it.”

  “No. If it’s all planned out, if the cars are somehow tied to the delivery mechanism, they just drive the cars off the plane and to whatever they’re doing.” He gestured to his phone. “There’s a parade. A huge Trick or Treating thing at the National Mall. Ivy, if they want to hit DC and go after something that’s going to hurt...”

  “The kids. They’ll go after the kids. Shit.” Her chest tightened.

  He had to be kidding.

  She didn’t want to believe it.

  But she knew better.

  She’d seen the devastation of car bombs in a crowded open air market.

  Targeting a family day at the National Mall during Halloween wouldn’t be that farfetched.

  “Costumes. No one will be able to identify them,” she said.

  “Shit,” Piers muttered. “It’s maximum scare power.”

  “But, why?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. You heard the laundry list of who Zak and Miran work with. The cousins have never been fans of Americans. Knowing them, they’d do this for the laughs. They’re twisted fucks. I can’t believe I never realized what was going on. This whole time. Right under my God damn nose.”

  “Okay. So. This is happening. It’s really happening.” Ivy drew in a deep breath.

  In co
mbat, she’d always had to adjust quickly to new developments. The bullets might not be flying, but this was still a fight. It was okay to be scared and angry, but she had to act with a clear head.

  “What do we do? Do we handle this ourselves?” she asked.

  This was bigger than either of them.

  “No,” Piers said without hesitation. “Fucking... No. Your Task Force friends need to know.”

  “We can’t just call them... Can we?”

  “No.” He glanced out the window. “We go to Miami Airport. We use a phone there. They’ll think we flew in. Yes, it’ll potentially put them on our tail, but...”

  Ivy wouldn’t be able to live with herself if they didn’t do something.

  And neither was Piers. Under that lone wolf, Han Solo routine, he had a heart. A big one. And he was going to risk it because it was the right thing to do.

  If she hadn’t already been in love with him, she’d have fallen for him in that moment.

  “It’s Saturday. I’ll call Jamie. He’ll be with his girlfriend and won’t answer the phone. Least not for a number he doesn’t know. It’ll give us more lead time.”

  Piers picked up her hand from the gear shift and kissed her knuckles.

  They were in this together now. Till the end.

  17.

  Sunday. Cargo Airport. Baltimore, Maryland.

  Killam felt almost human by the time they reached the cargo hangar. If the paperwork he’d seen was correct, his plane should be landing in the early morning hours.

  It was very likely possible that he could head off the whole thing here and now.

  It was equally possible that the CIA or the Task Force or whoever wanted them offed could show up and finish the job.

  He’d already tried to talk Ivy into hiding out in a hotel somewhere. She was going to stick close to him, no matter what he wanted.

  She slowed the car at the guardhouse and lowered the window.

  Killam leaned on the center console as a guard approached the car and bent to peer inside.

  The older gentleman grinned the moment their eyes locked. “Mr. Killam. I would have thought you’d have been here already.”

  Killam returned the easy smile. “Got held up.”

  “Your guys forget something?” The guard braced his forearms on the driver’s side door.

  Killam paused. Forget something?

  “I thought...” Ivy glanced at him.

  “I need to check the paperwork.” Killam shrugged. “Want to make sure all the I’s are dotted and T’s crossed.”

  The guard wagged his finger. “You’re a good man, Mr. Killam. Go on. Have a nice day.”

  He straightened and waved at someone still in the shed who raised the arm barring their way.

  “What just happened?” Ivy asked once the window was up.

  Killam didn’t reply. He was too busy calculating flight times and costs in his head.

  Five cars. One plane. How could he be late?

  He directed Ivy to park around the corner from the main office, out of plain sight.

  “Stay here,” he told her.

  “But—”

  “I’ve never brought anyone with me. Especially not a woman. We want these people to believe it’s business as usual, and that means you can’t go in with me.” It took effort to string together those sentences. He just wasn’t used to having to explain himself.

  “Okay.” She relaxed into the seat. “Your dirty little secret will stay out here.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “It’s a joke, Piers.”

  He took a deep breath, calming his nerves. He barely even noticed the use of his first name anymore.

  She reached over and squeezed his hand.

  He nodded at the burner phone he’d bought for her a few hours ago. “I’ll be right back. Call me if you see anything.”

  “Or see anything suspicious. I’ve got this.”

  He nodded and opened the door.

  There was a decent amount of traffic coming and going that he blended into the background. It also made anyone not on task stand out, which would make it difficult for someone waiting and watching him.

  Killam headed inside the office. The main desk was manned by a silver haired woman who was retired Air Force. She ran a tight office, for which Killam had always been grateful.

  Today she looked at him with sharp, cold eyes.

  “Mr. Killam, what can I do for you?” she asked.

  “Afternoon.” He smiled and tipped an imaginary hat at her. “I wanted to just check my paperwork. Make sure everything was in order.”

  Without glancing away from him, she reached for a file sitting on the corner of her desk. “I have it right here.”

  He held out a hand. After a moment, she gave him the file folder.

  He smiled and side-stepped, making room in front of her should anyone else enter. “Thanks.”

  The way she looked at him did not inspire confidence. She wasn’t a friendly woman, but normally she at least smiled.

  What had happened for her to look at him as if she were just waiting for him to step out of line?

  Killam flipped open the file and scanned the first page.

  Three cars.

  Not five.

  Three cars had arrived that morning. Not Monday morning.

  That would account for the faster time. Less weight needed less fuel. The plane could have gone longer, maybe only had to do one fueling stop.

  The receiving signature was someone called Nasar.

  Who was he? Why had the airport staff released his property to this man?

  The pages told him nothing else of value.

  The three cars they’d shipped were black, silver and red. The orange and lime green ones weren’t here. It made logistical sense. Those three might manage to blend in. It also let Jabby keep two solid cars for himself. But Jabby was no longer Killam’s concern.

  Who was Nasar?

  What was he doing with the cars?

  Where was he now?

  “Thanks.” Killam flipped the folder shut and passed it down the counter to the woman. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Your contact phone number wasn’t working,” she said.

  He smiled at her and settled his sunglasses on his face. “I was on a plane up until an hour ago.”

  The silvery haired woman wasn’t buying a word he was saying.

  It was time to clear out.

  Killam turned and let himself out of the office.

  He scanned the parking lot. This time of day there weren’t as many cars around, but it was still a very busy place. Lots of people coming and going. No way to tell who was with what company if they weren’t wearing a uniform.

  Any of them could be feds or this Nasar’s people.

  Killam turned and headed for the side of the building.

  They’d clear out. Get a new car. Probably grab something to eat and talk about their options. Maybe he could call a contact with the local cops and see if they could run the plates. That wouldn’t work if Nasar or the cousins had thought to change them. Killam could report the cars missing, but if the cops got involved and messed with them prematurely, would they get hurt? Was it safer to handle this on their own?

  He rounded the corner and froze.

  Ivy had the driver’s seat leaned back, chin tipped up and her eyes shielded by the oversized sunglasses she’d picked up at a gas station.

  And creeping up behind the car was the same man who’d tried to put a bullet in Killam back in Al Hofuf.

  Everything slowed.

  Killam’s hand floated in slow motion to his side, where his gun was concealed under his arm.

  The man crouched lower as he reached the fender, dipping out of Killam’s sight.

  Ivy didn’t move at all.

  He grasped the handle of his gun.

  Something slammed into him from behind, knocking him out of the quagmire. The world sped up as he was forced forward. His spine popped in several places right b
efore he was shoved face-first against the side of the building.

  Cold rage coursed through Killam’s veins.

  Ivy put herself on the line for these people, and this was how they wanted to thank her?

  Killam planted his hands on the side of the building and shoved back. His attacker either wasn’t ready or wasn’t strong enough. Killam whirled, catching the guy’s jaw with his fist.

  The blast of a single gunshot made Killam stumble.

  He whirled, fear tearing his world apart.

  Ivy stood next to the car, her arm and target hidden by the car.

  She’d shot first.

  Relief made his knees weak and for a moment he forgot everything else.

  Ivy was okay.

  As if she heard his thoughts, she glanced his way.

  “Look out!” she yelled.

  Killam flinched, his body moving on instinct.

  A baseball bat swung through the air, narrowly missing him.

  “Stop right there,” she yelled.

  Killam dodged, too focused on avoiding the bat to draw his own weapon.

  “I’m warning you,” Ivy yelled, this time closer.

  The bat wielding man whirled. Killam glanced at Ivy standing with her gun up. This wasn’t her first time pointing at a human being, and she looked damn near terrifying holding it with the calm assurance of someone who knew what they were doing.

  The bat wielding man didn’t look as calm as he had been the last time they’d met.

  People yelled something behind them.

  The gunshot would have got attention. Not the kind they wanted.

  Killam reached for his own weapon.

  How had Ivy gotten a gun?

  The man hurled the bat. Killam lunged, putting himself between Ivy and the bat while the man whirled and sprinted away.

  “Shit,” Killam spat.

  “Come on.” Ivy grabbed his arm and took a step after.

  “No.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist. “We need to get the other guy and go. Now. Before the cops get here.”

  “Shit,” she spat.

  Together they turned for the car. They circled the rear of it and stared at a small pool of blood, and no downed man.

  “Where’d he go?” Ivy asked.

  “Don’t know. Let’s get out of here.” He got behind the wheel while she circled around to the passenger side. “Where’d you get the gun?”