Malichai leaned his head back against the leather seat, ignoring Mills as he threw himself behind the wheel and pulled into traffic. Whoever these people were, whatever their ultimate goal, they weren’t a real terrorist cell, maybe a fledging one, but they were amateurs. Kidnapping him was a stupid move. They knew next to nothing about him. Mills’s face had not only been seen by the two women, but he’d allowed them to capture his image on their phones.
His gut knotted. Either that or they didn’t care. They had some other reason for not caring. What could that be? Mills carried himself very upright. Military, if Malichai had to take a stab at his background. He would not only be military but be used to giving orders or carrying them out. Something wasn’t right and Malichai just didn’t have enough pieces of the puzzle to fit them all together.
He didn’t make the mistake of looking out the back window to ensure his brother was following. He knew Ezekiel would be. He was totally confident he could take John Mills himself if he had to, but the fact that Zeke and the others remained close gave him that added coolness.
It didn’t seem to occur to Mills that he might be followed. He drove through several backstreets, moving away from the ocean toward the industrial side of town where there was a series of storage units. Mills drove in, barely stopping to put a code in to open the gate. The heavy gate swung open and then closed behind them as Mills immediately made a right turn down a long row of units. A van was parked toward the end of the row. Malichai didn’t like that. He knew the gate wouldn’t slow Ezekiel down, they would just go over it and head for the rooftops, but still, if Malichai was transferred to the van and his team wasn’t close . . .
Dark-colored van. Can’t see the license plate, Zeke. Don’t know if it’s for my body or for me.
The SUV came to an abrupt halt, nearly throwing his head into the seat in front of him. Mills leapt from the vehicle, opened the door and yanked Malichai out. Malichai caught a glimpse of the older woman from the magic shop, the one who had been so rude to him. Before he could react, Mills kicked him hard in his damaged leg. He wore heavy, steel-toed boots and he kicked hard, driving through the injuries.
Instantly, Malichai’s body reacted, so nauseated he nearly vomited as he went down hard. His head hit the asphalt, but that barely registered as Mills delivered two more vicious kicks to his leg, going for maximum impairment. He seemed to know exactly where Malichai had been shot and he used that knowledge to his advantage, kicking him again and again, clearly wanting to permanently damage his leg.
He reached down, caught Malichai under his shoulders and dragged him the few feet to the open door of the storage unit where the woman waited. There was another man with her. He looked to be about fifty and that man reached up, caught the door and slammed it down hard, closing them all inside. There was a light on, but it was fairly dim. Still, when Malichai could get beyond the nausea swirling in his gut, the bile rising in his throat and the pain hammering at his leg all the way to his hip, he could see the scars pitting the man’s face.
“Mr. Fortunes,” the man greeted. “As one soldier to another, I really am sorry we have to meet under such poor circumstances. I’m sure you can appreciate that it’s a sign of respect that we are being so careful. A man who’s sustained the kinds of wounds you have in combat is a very lethal human being.”
The man spoke very precisely. The way he spoke suggested education. Malichai guessed that he had been an officer. Yeah, it was a great sign of respect to kick the shit out of his wounded leg so he couldn’t defend himself. What an asshole. He stayed silent.
The handcuffs were somewhat loose and he worked at slipping them off without moving his shoulders. To cover what he was doing, he made a show of struggling into a sitting position. He kept an expressionless mask, but every movement of his body, as he tried to push himself so his back was to the wall of the unit, was excruciatingly painful.
His leg hurt so bad he feared Mills had those tiny fractures Amaryllis had worked on dissecting his bones all over again. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Mills had undone the miracle Rubin had worked.
“What is it you want from me, Mr. . . . ?” Deliberately he called the man “mister,” knowing if he was in charge and he’d been an officer, that would rankle.
“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Callendine. This is Major Salsberry.” He indicated the older woman. I’m afraid you’ve stumbled onto one of our missions, Mr. Fortunes. You’ve met Sergeant Mills already.” He drummed his fingers against his thigh. “I find it incredible that I can’t find anything on you other than you do in fact exist and you are in the military. Understand, my orders come all the way from the White House, so I do have resources that should have uncovered everything about you, yet so far, they’ve been unable to do so.”
Those sharp eyes moved over Malichai carefully, inspecting every inch of him. He couldn’t fail to see the very real beads of sweat trickling down his forehead or running from his neck down his chest. Malichai tried to keep his breathing even, but it seemed impossible when every breath caused pain to explode through him.
Zeke, this is some kind of military operation. Man claims he’s got orders from the White House. Who in the White House he hasn’t said, but he doesn’t know about our unit. Says his name’s Lieutenant Colonel Callendine. Woman with him is Major Salsberry. Says the gorilla who just kicked the holy shit out of my leg is named Sergeant Mills. I’ve got the cuffs off. I just need a couple of minutes to catch my breath. I want to see if I can find out what the hell they’re up to.
“If you really are who you say you are, why didn’t you just come to me, soldier to soldier, and tell me to back off? Your man there scared the shit out of the owner of the bed-and-breakfast. Both the owner and the manager have video of him trying to intimidate them. If you’re on some secret mission, why would he be dumb enough to have his face plastered all over social media? And why would you attack and injure a fellow soldier? That makes even less sense.”
Callendine turned to look at Mills, his eyebrow raised as if seeking an answer.
“The woman, Amaryllis is her name, she gave off this vibe that said she was going to make trouble. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I went for maximum intimidation. I planned on taking their phones, but Fortunes showed up.”
Callendine nodded as if that was a perfectly acceptable explanation. It wasn’t and it didn’t make sense to Malichai. Nothing was adding up—unless these were the people planning on killing Marie, Jacy and Amaryllis and then burning down the bed-and-breakfast. Callendine spoke in a very sincere tone as if he was telling the truth. Malichai leaned his head back against the wall as if he was exhausted from fighting the pain. He was just plain pissed off at this point. He was more than positive that it was Callendine who planned on killing the women and Jacy.
Right now, Ezekiel would be contacting Major General for information regarding Callendine, Salsberry and Mills. Who they worked for and why they were in San Diego. Malichai didn’t think it was possible they were working toward the same end, but it was possible someone in the White House had a very different agenda and had sent a team out. Whatever their mission was, they were far too comfortable using deadly force against civilians.
“We are looking for a colleague of ours who has disappeared,” Callendine continued. “His name is Henry Shevfield. I’m certain you met him.”
Malichai made a show of frowning and even glanced up and to his left in a manner many people used when trying to recall a specific person or event. They’re asking about Shevfield, Zeke. He wanted his brother informed every step of the way just in case he didn’t make it out alive.
“I’m sorry. I don’t recall anyone by that name.” He had gone through interrogation techniques. He’d been interrogated. He’d been tortured, and the evidence was on his body had anyone bothered to look. He could look and sound as if he was telling the truth even when he was lying his ass off. “When was I supposed to have ru
n across him?”
Mills stirred as if he might kick the shit out of Malichai’s leg all over again. Every cell in his body rebelled but he kept his face expressionless. He didn’t want to encourage the bastard if he was into torture. He needed to get his heart rate down and slowly test how much of his leg he could count on when he needed to explode into action.
“The other day you visited the magic shop and spoke to the major,” Callendine said patiently.
Malichai let his gaze shift to the older woman, a faint smile on his face. “Now, that, I remember. She was rude as hell.”
“You were lying,” Callendine said. “You don’t know Miss Crystal.”
“Actually,” Malichai contradicted, “I do. My fiancée works at the bed-and-breakfast. She’s been there for the last year. She introduced me to Miss Crystal some time ago. It’s true I don’t get leave that often, but when I do, I come to see my girl. She’s been helping Marie while Jacy’s sick again and so she can’t come with me. I’m gone a lot, so it was okay. Miss Crystal is a sweet old lady and a good friend to both women and Jacy.”
Callendine glared at the major. “I thought you researched thoroughly.”
The major ducked her head, clearly embarrassed that she hadn’t uncovered Amaryllis’s engagement.
“What branch of the service are you in?” Callendine demanded.
“Air Force,” Malichai said.
Mills snickered outright. Malichai was careful not to allow his gaze to shift toward the man. He didn’t want any of the three of them to see the sudden burning in his eyes. He was proud of his branch of the military. Very proud. He wasn’t going to blow this entire thing in order to get into a pissing match with Mills, whom he already considered an idiot.
“I don’t understand what’s going on here, sir,” he added, using the term of respect as if it was a habit and he wasn’t aware of it. He knew Callendine would like that. “If you’re running an operation, you should have told me to stand down. I was only looking for Miss Crystal. The major was rude, and that didn’t seem right when she was working at the shop supposedly trying to sell to customers. Big red flag to me. It didn’t occur to me not to ask questions.”
Callendine shook his head. “Perhaps the major could have been a little more personable. She’s used to deference.”
“What about Anna and Bryon Cooper? Why did you have Mills kill them? He did, I’m certain of it. What kind of threat were they?”
“Why would you think Mills killed them?” Callendine asked.
“It was sloppy. He’s military, not a professional. He didn’t have a lot of time when the opportunity presented itself, so he improvised instead of waiting for a better time.” It was all guesswork, but if Shevfield hadn’t killed the couple, someone else did, and it was too big of a coincidence to think that there was another killer involved.
“He should have waited,” Callendine conceded. “The woman couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She overheard things she shouldn’t have. How much was impossible to say, but she was a threat to national security we couldn’t afford.”
“She wasn’t a threat,” Malichai protested. “No one listened to anything she said.”
“Getting back to Shevfield. You went swimming that day you spoke with Major Salsberry.”
Malichai nodded. He didn’t make the mistake of running his hand down his thigh, but the temptation was there. He kept his hands firmly behind his back, shifting his shoulders every now and then as if to ease the strain being handcuffed caused. “My physical therapist advised me to swim in the ocean. I’d promised to continue. The doctors wouldn’t release me to come to see Amaryllis unless I agreed to swim. I do so every morning.”
“So a recent injury.”
Now they were getting into things Malichai didn’t want to talk about. Callendine could use that information to help whoever was financing his mission to find out information about Malichai and his unit—at least where he’d been.
Malichai stared at Callendine. Mills made a move toward him, but Callendine waved him off.
“I see,” he said. “You must belong to a special unit. I assume wherever you got that injury, and from the photographs I saw, you were shot multiple times, you had to have been on a covert mission.”
Malichai remained silent, not taking the bait. Callendine sighed. “Mr. Shevfield entered the water in full scuba gear. You weren’t wearing even a partial wet suit and yet you swam for some time in what amounts to very cold water. You came out without a single problem. Shevfield did not return.”
Malichai allowed himself to frown. “Are you in some way implying I had something to do with your man Shevfield not returning? It’s a damn big ocean. Why would you think I even encountered him? I swam a good distance and then swam back like I do every morning. It was that simple.”
“You stayed underwater for a long time, Mr. Fortunes. You were under observation.”
“Then your observer would tell you I didn’t encounter Shevfield.”
“My observer was in touch with Shevfield and he was waiting for you. That was the last we heard of him.”
“Then your observer ought to know where he is because I don’t. And why would Shevfield be waiting for me? What the hell do I have to do with your mission?” Malichai inserted a note of belligerence into his voice. “Has it occurred to you that maybe your observer had something to do with Shevfield’s disappearance and is trying to blame it on me? It wouldn’t be the first time someone in a unit made someone else disappear because they didn’t like them.”
He kept an eye on Mills, judging the distance between them. He had the feeling Mills had been the observer Callendine kept referring to and Mills clearly had a bit of a temper. If he came at Malichai again, Malichai planned on taking him down hard.
“Stand down,” Callendine hissed, clearly knowing Mills and that he would take great offense to Malichai’s implication. “The pararescue squads go in where few venture, pulling our boys out when they’re wounded. Is that what you do?”
“I am a doctor,” Malichai admitted.
Callendine was going to keep up with the charade of interrogating him. Giving him a few things wouldn’t get him any closer to what he wanted to know. His contacts at the White House hadn’t mentioned the GhostWalkers or that very secret project. By telling Callendine he was a doctor, he appeared to be somewhat cooperating. Those in pararescue weren’t GhostWalkers. He was stalling, hoping Callendine would ease up and give him something that would allow Ezekiel to figure out who was directing the mission there and just what it was, because no self-respecting Army man would hire a local hit man to kill two women and a child and set an entire bed-and-breakfast filled with guests on fire.
“That means you’re an officer as well.” For just one moment, Callendine shifted his gaze toward first the major, and then Mills.
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“You were wounded pulling our boys out of the line of fire, weren’t you?”
“Sir, I would prefer not to answer that question.”
“Because you were on a covert mission. Do you work for the CIA?”
“I am Air Force. Pararescue.” It was time to at least admit that much.
Callendine looked triumphant.
“Are you CIA?” Malichai asked.
“I am Army. Just as proud of my branch as you are of yours.”
He’s claiming he’s Army, Zeke. Someone higher up has to be directing him. The major clearly has worked with him before. I asked directly if he was CIA and he said no. I believe him. He had pride in his voice when he said he’s Army.
“I need you to tell me who’s giving you orders,” Malichai said.
“You know I can’t do that. I can only tell you the orders are coming directly from the White House.”
“Not the president,” Malichai guessed. The president would never consider a peace conference a problem. Who then?
They weren’t there to stop a bombing, not with a hit man employed.
Callendine heaved a sigh. “I know you believe you’re doing the right thing, Dr. Fortunes. It is possible, but improbable, that you’re telling the truth about why you’re here. The fact that my contacts can’t find out anything about you suggests that you’re a member of a covert unit. The wounds you sustained also suggest the same thing. You have to understand, we can’t take any chances that you are here to interfere with our mission.”
Malichai knew immediately what he was going to say. Callendine was going to give the go-ahead to his attack dog.
You’d better come in for the party, Zeke. They plan on making me the main event.
Malichai’s entire body tensed when it was the last thing he wanted or needed it to do. He had to be relaxed, ready to move, ready to defend himself when the attack came—and it was coming. It was inevitable.
13
I’m giving you one last chance to help yourself out, soldier,” Callendine warned.
He’s got a contingency of soldiers out here, Ezekiel said. Can you handle things in there?
Inwardly, Malichai cursed. He wasn’t about to let that asshole Mills kick his leg again. He was going to have to fight them.
Do my best, I’m not going to lie. My leg is damaged again. I don’t know how long it will hold up, so speed things up out there.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to say the same to you,” Malichai said, shifting his weight subtly. He was going to have to use enhanced speed and strength to get his ass off the ground when his leg refused to work properly.
Callendine smiled, but there was little humor in it. None in his eyes. This was a man who had tortured—and ordered torture—on more than one occasion. He didn’t mind. He was the type of man who ordered the deaths of two women and a child as well as burning down an establishment with the guests, police and firefighters inside in order to create a diversion for himself.
“I’ve got a lot of respect for you, Dr. Fortunes, but I can’t have you standing in the way of my mission.” He stepped back and gestured at Mills.
Lethal Game Page 26