by J C Ryan
“Let’s get one thing straight, Carson. Nobody respects you. Not even your deputies. And what do you reckon they will think of you after seeing these?”
Brandt let his smile grow into an evil grin. “I think it’s time you meet our caddy.” He nodded for Marissa to join them.
The caddy, who Carson had thought to be a teenager with unfortunate hair, stepped out of the cart. She — for it obviously wasn’t a boy — shook out a mane of glorious, jet-black hair and stared at him with familiar eyes.
A smile grew slowly on her beautiful face as she held out her hand.
“We meet again,” she said.
The color drained from Carson’s face, as he said, “You!”
36
Ronald Reagan Washington International Airport, July 2, 3:15 p.m.
BRUCE CARSON CHECKED his watch nervously. His flight was late. The cold front that had made yesterday so pleasant had bumped up against a strong tropical storm, and now hurricane warnings were threatening to keep him from honoring the promise he’d made to John Brandt the previous afternoon.
If he wasn’t out of town within the hour, the shit was going to hit the fan. Not that it hadn’t been spread around already by what he’d had to do. His wife was at home, in tears. He’d given her an ultimatum. Go with him to Costa Rica, where they’d change their names and never have contact with anyone in their lives again, or divorce. It didn’t surprise him that she’d chosen divorce. He’d told her Costa Rica as a diversion. She’d never find him to extract spousal support where he was really going.
He’d emptied their joint bank account, and he had a few hidden ones his wife didn’t know about. He could live like a king in a place that didn’t have extradition treaties with the US, but he’d bounce around for a while to keep Brandt from finding him. The agreement was he’d go somewhere far away from the US and fake his death. Otherwise, Brandt would see to it that he died, and not in a fake way.
Brandt had given him two alternatives: disappear or die. It had been put a little more savagely after he’d convinced the man that he really didn’t know who was above the Senator in the chain of command. Before that, he’d given Brandt a name, rank, and serial number of everyone he did know about. The number of high ranking officials and military officers in the network had shocked Brandt.
“You are the worst kind of human there could be. I hesitate to even give you the honor of that description. You’re worse than a terrorist.”
That was when the beautiful creature who’d given him such pleasure two nights before walked up and slapped him, then she took a small step back and kicked him in the groin. Somehow, those actions didn’t give him the same pleasure as her whip had.
Brandt had started talking again. “I should kill you where you stand, but I’m not going to dirty my hands. You have a choice. One, you disappear in the next twenty-four hours and just mail in your retirement letter. Go live in Afghanistan with your real friends. Become a Muslim, join the jihad — you might as well, you’ve been funding them. I don’t care where you go or what you do. But you will be out of this country within twenty-four hours, or I’ll find you and help you execute the alternative.
“Alternative. What’s that alternative?” he’d asked.
“You could shoot yourself in the head. Eat your gun. I’m betting you don’t have the guts to do it, but if you surprise me, I’ll be sure to name the toilet at CRC headquarters after you to commemorate your passing. Nice bronze plaque and all.
“But Carson, believe me when I say, if I ever see you again it will be too soon, and I will kill you then. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise.”
It had been no alternative at all. Not to a coward like Carson.
Of course, he wouldn’t go to Afghanistan. He was flying tonight to the Marshall Islands. From there, he’d make the rest of the necessary arrangements, and then he’d go somewhere else. He’d pick out another nice country with no extradition treaty and plenty of pretty girls, and he’d live happily ever after.
That was the plan. But if his flight didn’t take off soon, he fully expected to see John Brandt coming after him like the wrath of God.
Just then, he heard his flight called. Maybe the hurricane had been downgraded. Whatever had happened, he was grateful. He never wanted to lay eyes on Brandt again.
JOHN BRANDT SAT ten yards from Carson, lurking behind a newspaper. He was also waiting for the flight to be called, but he was prepared to carry out his threat if it couldn’t depart. It didn’t matter that Carson had chosen to leave and was making a bona fide effort to do so. If the twenty-four-hour mark came before Carson got on a plane, he’d suffer a heart attack right here in the departure area.
When the flight was called, it was almost a let-down for Brandt. But then he remembered Longland’s prophecy. He grinned savagely.
It doesn’t matter where you go, you scum-bag. The Ghost will find you.
Chapter 37
New Delhi, India July 4, 2014
WHEN THE CALL came, at last, to meet with the forger, Rex responded with alacrity. Should he bring Digger? No, the dog’s papers wouldn’t require photo ID. He apologized to the dog and left him sulking in the hotel room. As he left, he put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. He didn’t want a chambermaid to have a heart attack when surprised by an enormous black dog in a room where he didn’t belong.
Rex took the precaution of walking several blocks before hailing a bicycle rickshaw to take him to within a block or two of the address he’d been given. It was probably an excess of caution, but his long study of spycraft had taught him it was better to assume someone was stalking you and take measures to foil them, than to assume no one was and be unpleasantly surprised.
He arrived at the forger’s address in due time. During the ensuing half hour interview, he provided his new name, Ruan Daniel, French. In ancient times, in Gaelic-speaking countries, given the name Ruan meant the bearer would have had red hair. Rex left after haggling over the price of Digger’s papers, two-thousand dollars poorer, but satisfied that the papers would stand up to all but the most expert scrutiny. In a few days, he would collect the papers and be able to leave this city for his next destination.
He’d made a list of the sites in India he’d always been interested in seeing. Soon, he’d be a tourist, happily making his way from one site to the next and doing his best not to think about terrorists and drugs and evildoers or the life he’d left behind.
And Digger’s welfare, of course. His trusty service dog…
While he waited for his papers to be ready, Rex considered what the forger had told him. It might be best to feign different disabilities in different places. Digger’s vest proclaiming him a service dog was not required. In fact, it would raise suspicion among the truly disabled, especially in America should he return there, and in Europe as well. In the current climate of political correctness, he had only to say Digger was a service dog. In most first-world countries, follow-up questions about his disability would be in some cases politically incorrect and in others illegal. That suited him just fine. In some third-world countries, it would make absolutely no difference in how Digger was received anyway.
Nevertheless, he decided it would be a good idea to visit a few doctors and bribe them to give him letters that stated Rex needed to have the dog with him at all times. Having at least three letters from three different physicians, one each for PTSD, diabetes, and seizure alert, could be very helpful.
Digger would probably welcome not having the vest on. He’d made his opinion of it known to Rex, and Rex had insisted he wear it anyway. He couldn’t wait to tell Digger they could get rid of it. Digger’s bulletproof vest had been left at the Phoenix compound, along with everything Rex had owned, when they abandoned Afghanistan. Rex saw no need to replace it — he didn’t intend to get into any firefights from now on.
When at last the forger called to say the papers were ready, Rex went after them eagerly. It wasn’t lost on him that this was Independence Day, or it would be wh
en the clock ticked past midnight in a few hours.
Independence, for him, would begin today.
It was already late afternoon in New Delhi, but he intended to leave as soon as he got back to the hotel with the papers. It would take only a few minutes to pack up and check out.
Then he’d be on his way.
HE WAS IN the van, Digger in the passenger seat next to him, head out the window and tongue hanging out looking very happy to be back on the road again.
Rex was deep in brown study, looking back on what had happened over the past year or so to bring him to this point.
He remembered reading something about the Rule of Three, or the Power of Three. A notion which suggested that things that come in threes are funnier, more satisfying, more effective, or more memorable, than the combination of other numbers of things.
Trevor had told him that a dog had to be showed something only three times and it would never forget it. Rex had no opinion about that. Thus far, he was the pupil and Digger the teacher. And since the night of the explosion when Trevor and the others were killed, and he and Digger were forced to work together, Rex had learned that the synergy of a dog and human working together was so much more than just human plus dog equals a force of two.
The combination produced a third force.
Human plus dog equals three.
“The power of three,” he whispered and smiled.
Rex Dalton’s Next Adventure
Unchained
Rex Dalton and his new friend, the military dog, Digger, escaped from Afghanistan and made their way into India where they started a new life.
Within a few weeks, Dalton had a new name, a new passport and no worries about money. He and Digger were on their way to Kapal Mochan, India, where Rex intended to dip his hand into a sacred spring.
But like most things in Rex’s life, things rarely go according to plan.
Get Unchained here
More Rex Dalton Books
The Fulcrum (Rex Dalton Book 1)
The Power of Three (Rex Dalton Book 2)
Unchained (Rex Dalton Book 3)
Sideswiped (Rex Dalton Book 4)
Also by JC Ryan
The Rossler Foundation Mysteries
http://myBook.to/RosslerFoundation
Here’s what readers are saying about the series:
“All in all, a brilliant series by a master of the techno thrillers turning old much debated mysteries into overwhelming modern engrossing sagas of adventure, heroism and a sense of awe for the many mysteries still unexplained in our universe. Enjoy!”
“I LOVED this series! It's readily apparent that the author drew from a large body of knowledge in writing this series. It's just believable enough to think it could happen someday, and in fact, aligns quite well with some of the current relationships that exist between present day countries and the USA.”
The Carter Devereux Mystery Thrillers
myBook.to/CarterDevereux
Here’s what readers are saying about the series:
“Omg this series is awesome. Full off adventure, action, romance, and suspense. I've you start reading you are hooked. Carter and all characters are awesome, you will fall in love with all of them they become like family. I love the way J C weaves the human and animals together in the story. Try it you will love it.”
“The best! What a joy to read these four books about Carter and Mackenzie Devereux bad their adventures. A very good read. I will look for more of JC Ryan's books.”
“Suspenseful! Fabulous just fabulous! I enjoyed reading these books immensely. I highly recommend these books. Bravo to the author! You won't regret it.”
“What a wonderful and intriguing book. Kept me glued to what was going to happen next. Not a normal read for me. But a very enjoyable series that I would recommend to everyone who likes adventure and thrills.”
The Exonerated
http://myBook.to/ExoneratedTrilogy
Here’s what readers are saying about the series:
“J.C. Ryan is an author that writes tomes. The great thing about that is that you get great character development and the plots are all intricate, plausible, suspenseful stories that seems to draw you in from the first scenario right up to the end.
The Exonerated series is no exception. Regan St. Clair is a judge. Together with Jake she has her own way in pursuing justice in ensuring that the legal system is applied ...well, justly.”
“What if you had the power to make a difference? Would you? Could you? What if in order to do so you had to join a super-secret organization that might not always play by the rules? What if you stumbled across this mysterious organization only to find out it had been polluted? What if you were a judge that has been worn out and disillusioned by the very justice system you thought you loved?”
“What a great series of books. It seemed like one book instead of three books. The story flowed seamlessly through the three books.”
As a way of saying thanks for your purchase, I’m offering you a free eBook if you join my newsletter here: JC Ryan Books
Rex Dalton and his dog, Digger, visited the island of Olib in Croatia.
A girl was murdered.
The police said it was her boyfriend who stabbed her to death, but Rex and Digger had no doubt they were making a big mistake.
Dalton decided to conduct his own investigation and bring the real killer to justice.
A thriller with quirks and twists that will keep you guessing until the end.
Click here to get it now.
About JC Ryan
JC Ryan holds a military degree and served as an officer in the military for seven years before a crippling back injury forced him to change careers. He returned to university studied law and became a lawyer, running his own private practice for more than fifteen years before he moved overseas, became an IT project manager and finally got the opportunity to pursue his lifelong dream of being a writer.
With the knowledge and experience gained by living and working on three continents and as many careers, Ryan amassed a wealth of knowledge and material which equipped him to take up fiction writing.
Ryan has been married to his college sweetheart since 1978, and have two daughters and two dogs and make their home on the beautiful Gold Coast of Australia.
An interview with the author by the editor of Books 'N Pieces Magazine, http://www.altpublish.com/jc-ryan/
Editor’s note: “JC Ryan and I enjoyed an extensive two-hour Skype session where we spoke of all manner of things, especially his ranking as an author. The visibility of an author is often at the hands of readers. If you look at JC’s ratings, each book enjoys several hundred or more four and five-star reviews, enough to make him notable, and on par with mainstream novelists. I encourage you to read one of his books, or listen to his audiobooks, now in production. You’ll be hooked.”
Copyright
This book is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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