by CW Browning
John looked up her and shook his head.
“I'm as....useless....as a...baby,” he gasped between breaths. “Help me...sit up.”
Alina picked up the bed controls and pressed the button to raise the head of the bed. As it began to rise, she dropped the controls on the bed and leaned down to support him as he struggled to pull himself up. Once he was in a semi-reclining position, she pressed the button to stop it and he sank back onto the pillows tiredly, his breathing ragged. Her eyes went straight to the monitors and she watched his pulse rate spike from the exertion before slowly returning to normal. She shook her head and perched carefully on the edge of the bed.
“For God's sake, be careful,” she muttered. “Stephanie will kill me if you collapse your first day conscious.”
“Stephs...an old goat...” John retorted breathlessly.
Alina chuckled despite herself. Her eyes met John's and, suddenly, the years disappeared. In that brief second, Viper found herself looking into the past, at the face she had so desperately loved for years. John's breathing quieted and he laid his head back, content to look at her for the moment.
“What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded softly, not taking her eyes from his. “You're too old to be flipping cars in the Pines at night. The Firebird's toast.”
“I know,” he whispered, dropping his eyes from hers as he reached for her hand again. She took it with misgiving, feeling the weakness in his fingers as he closed them around hers. “I had to find out...” his voice trailed off and Alina sighed.
“It was Tito,” she told him.
John's eyes lifted to hers again and she saw that he already knew who was responsible for Dutch's accident.
“Dutch was getting...money...” he rasped out before another cough racked through him. Alina tightened her fingers on his, suddenly wishing she could take the pain from him onto herself. “From...them...”
“Shhh...” Alina hushed him as another cough ripped through him. “Stop talking. I know. I know everything.”
John had closed his eyes while he was fighting to breathe, but at that, he opened them and looked at her. She thought she detected a glimmer of amusement in those pale eyes of his.
“'Course you do,” he gasped. “Tell me.”
“Why don't you get better first?” she suggested, glancing at the monitors again. “I don't want you getting worked up. We both know your temper.”
“Please.”
Alina considered him for a moment silently, then glanced at the monitors again. All his numbers were normal, considering, and she sighed imperceptibly.
“Dutch was running product for Dominic up and down the coast,” she told him quietly. “When he tried to stop, Dominic took offense.” She didn't mention the missing product or cartels or terrorists, but kept it simple. There would be time enough when he was recovering and stronger to fill him in on what really happened. “Then you started asking questions, and apparently came across the money trail. It was a bomb, planted inside your wheel well, that blew your tire out.”
John was silent, watching her. Alina was very grateful for her mask, knowing he was looking for indications of what she wasn't telling him. John was a lot of things, but dumb had never been one of them.
“How bad?” he finally asked.
“The Firebird?” Alina asked, raising her eyebrows. “It's totaled. You're lucky to be alive.”
His lips pressed together grimly and her eyes flew to the monitor. His pulse was going up and she stopped talking, sitting quietly while he absorbed the news. They sat like that in silence for a long while, Alina watching him and John lying with his eyes closed. His pulse returned to normal and still he lay there quietly. When he finally spoke, he didn't open his eyes, but his fingers stirred in hers faintly.
“That was my last piece of you,” he whispered. “The last thing I did right. I restored it for...for you...because it was...all I...had left.”
Alina stared at him, at a loss for words. She always loved that car, but she never once considered that John took an ounce of notice. The memories she had pushed down, locked away and forgotten began to trickle back. Images of herself in the passenger seat laughing as John raced his friend down the highway at three in the morning were followed almost immediately by the memory of lying back in that same passenger seat, the ocean breeze coming through the open windows and T-tops. That car had seen them laugh, fight, make love and finally, in the end, engage in long, stony silences.
Vipers mask wavered and Alina tightened her fingers on his, her face feeling hot, then cold as emotions she had forgotten swept through her. With a start, she realized that John's eyes were open again and he was watching her with something in his eyes she hadn't seen in years. With a blink and a mental shake, Viper took control again and she smiled faintly.
“She was a good car,” she murmured. “You did a good job restoring her.”
“Lina...” John struggled to try to lean toward her, but collapsed back against the pillows tiredly. “Lina...I...”
“John, it was just a car,” Alina said quietly. “That's all. I loved it, yes, but it was a long time ago.”
“Dammit!” John gasped, cutting her off. “Listen!”
Alina raised an eyebrow, surprised.
“I'm trying...to...tell you....” he was wheezing now and had to stop to take some breaths.
While he was catching his breath, Alina pulled her hand out of his, trying to distance herself from him. To cover up her action, she leaned forward and adjusted the pillows behind him again. An uneasy feeling of disquiet settled into her and her stomach suddenly felt filled with rocks. She had learned to forget the past and had moved forward with John a part of Stephanie's life. Alina had no desire to rehash the feelings of the past now, yet it seemed that was exactly where John was heading.
“I was a fool,” John rasped, pinning her with an intent look. “I was such a fool.”
“Yes, you were,” Alina agreed, sitting back, “but it's all over now.”
“I didn't think...never imagined...you'd leave...” John said. He shook his head slowly. “I'm so sorry...I didn't tell you...”
“John, stop,” she said firmly, pressing a finger to his lips for good measure. “We've been over this before. Everything that happened, happened. There's no reason to keep apologizing.”
“You don't...understand...” John's eyes were getting heavy, but he seemed determined to say what was on his mind. “I...have to tell you...I...”
“Hey, enough!” Alina softened her rebuke by smiling gently at him. “Enough. We've moved on and we're better for it now. Stop worrying about the past and just get yourself better. You've given us enough of a scare already.”
John stared at her, exhaustion taking over, and he sighed before reaching for her hand again.
“I just...”
His voice was fading and Alina felt something tug deep inside her. Emotion akin to grief threatened her, forming a lump in the base of her throat, and she tightened her lips in reaction.
“I know, John,” she whispered. “I know. Get some rest.”
“...miss us....”
“I know.”
Alina watched as he started to drift off to sleep. She touched his face gently and leaned forward to press a soft kiss on his forehead before standing and turning toward the door.
“Lina!” His gasp stopped her and she turned back. His eyes were open again and he was staring at her with a hard intensity at odds with his exhaustion. “You'll take care...of Tito?” he demanded breathlessly. “Don't...let him...get away with it.”
“He won't,” Viper promised grimly.
John seemed comforted by the cold assurance in her voice and he nodded tiredly, his eyes sliding closed.
Chapter Twenty
Alina rolled to a stop at the red light and sat silently, her lips pressed together in displeasure. John had stirred something deep inside her, something she spent eleven years carefully locking away. It was an emotion she never wanted to feel again,
and yet there it was, fluttering deep in the dark recesses of her memory, waiting to be released.
“Stupid!” Viper hissed as the light turned green and she pressed the gas.
Whether she was referring to herself or John, she didn't know.
Alina switched lanes impatiently and pressed the gas pedal down as she zoomed off the exit and onto the highway that would carry her away from Camden. She didn't want to remember her life with John. She didn't want to remember the feelings she worked so hard through boot camp to bury. And she certainly didn't want to realize that John had been as devastated by the abrupt end of their relationship as she had been. Before she could stop it, a little voice whispered in her ear, wondering what would have happened if she hadn't run away to the Navy.
“Ugh!”
Viper made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes, reaching for the radio. She pressed a button and hard rock exploded out of the Jeep speakers.
There wasn't time for emotion in her life, not where John was concerned. He was alive and awake, and Alina was happy for that. She was glad he wasn't dead. She would have hated to see him go out like that. A bullet in the line of duty would be preferable to getting blown up by...by whom? Tito may have planted the bomb, but he wasn't the one behind it. Was it Dominic? Was it Asad Jamal's order? Viper shook her head. No. Asad would have no interest in an FBI Agent asking questions about a car accident. Dominic was the most likely culprit, but why would he risk using a rash of shrapnel bombs that clearly had the ear-marks of Middle Eastern extremists?
Alina sped down the highway, her nerves and heart rate settling down as she turned her mind from the unsettling thoughts of her past. As was her habit, she pushed aside the emotions John stirred up, focusing instead on realities she could understand and control. When the hands-free system alerted her to a phone call, she pressed the button on the steering wheel to mute the music and answer, feeling almost herself again.
“Yes?”
There. Her voice was even and normal. John hadn't upset her as much as she thought.
“What's wrong?”
Hawk's voice filled the car and Alina frowned.
“Nothing,” she said shortly.
“Huh. You sound irritated,” Hawk told her. “Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“I heard from my man in Belize.”
“And?” Viper prompted.
“It's not good,” Hawk said. “The Casa Reinos have branched out. They've always been skilled smugglers, but it was mainly for themselves. Now, they're smuggling for known terrorists.”
“Such as?”
“I've got a list here. You'll recognize most, if not all, of these names.” Hawk paused and Alina thought she heard seagulls in the background. “It's worse than we thought.”
“It always is,” she muttered. “Any word on what they're smuggling?”
“I'm getting there,” Hawk said, amused. “You have to have the meat and potatoes before you get the pudding.”
“Says who?” Alina retorted. “I like my dessert first.”
“Oh really?” Damon drawled. “I'll remember that.”
“Don't tease me,” she shot back before she could stop herself and Damon chuckled.
“One of the couriers that meets the drivers in Miami has a loose tongue,” Hawk continued, getting them back on point. “Dominic isn't running just one driver. He has a whole network of them. Turns out this courier met someone in Dulles who passed him a package, which he then passed on through the driving network. Ask me where the package came from.”
“Where did the package come from?” Alina asked obligingly.
“Qatar,” he told her soberly. “I'll give you one guess who was in Qatar at the same time.”
Something Michael said on her deck popped into Alina's head and she sighed.
“The scientist we traded for,” she muttered. “Holy hell.”
“One day, you're going to tell me how you always know things before I tell you.” Damon sounded disgruntled. “His name is Sergeant Curtis, and he passed the package to someone who helped it on its way straight to Dulles Airport.”
“Not an explosive, then,” Viper mused. “They couldn't get it through security.”
“Well, that's debatable,” Hawk answered, “but you're right. It's not an explosive, not on its own anyway.”
“You know what it is?” Viper demanded.
“They're calling it a trigger. My man down there says it's not a standard bomb trigger, but something else. Given the fact that Sergeant Curtis is a Biochemical Engineer, I think it’s safe to assume it's a chemical trigger.”
The words fell heavily between them, enunciating what Viper had already realized.
“For the love of all that's Holy, can the government get any more inept?!” she finally exploded after a moment of silence. “They enabled this!”
“Don't ask that. You don't want to know the answer,” he answered grimly. “The trigger got passed to the courier at Dulles, who passed it to your friend Dutch.”
“And Dutch somehow figured out what it was,” Viper finished. “You're right. This is not good.”
They were both silent again for a long moment, then she shook her head.
“You said they're saying it's not a bomb trigger?” she asked. “Then what the hell is Asad building? He's got a bomb-maker in Cancun who's been there for eight months. Where does this chemical come in? Are they planning two attacks?”
“All good questions,” Hawk said. “Let me add another one: How did this Dominic guy get involved with the Cartel and Asad Jamal?”
“I have to contact Charlie,” Viper decided. “This is getting ugly. We have three of them in the country, heading toward the East coast, and now we probably have a chemical trigger lost in Jersey.”
“We have confirmation they're headed here?”
“We will shortly. They've left Cancun and are believed to have crossed the border.”
“You'd better get the little sister and find the package before Dominic does,” Hawk advised.
“I'm already on it,” Viper told him, taking an exit to lead her to Atco. “When you get back from the shore, meet me at the house. Hopefully, I'll have instructions from Charlie by then.”
“How do you know I'm at the shore?” Damon demanded, amusement lacing his voice.
“Seagulls,” she answered shortly. “I'll see you later.”
It was just turning noon when Alina pulled into the dirt driveway leading back to Dutch's house, now Lani's. Lack of rain had caused the ground to harden and dust flew up around the Jeep as she bounced along the driveway. She pulled up in front of the house and her eyes narrowed sharply as she glanced at the front porch. The front door was ajar behind the closed screen door and something didn't feel right. This morning, that door was closed firmly. When she left, she watched in her rearview mirror as Lani went back into the house, closing the door once again behind her.
Viper turned off the engine and got out of the Jeep, pushing the door closed quietly. A frown creased her forehead as she moved around the back, glancing up onto the porch. Everything was still and quiet, but her instincts told her something was out of place. Instead of going onto the porch, Alina skirted around the house and followed the drive to the back, as she had done this morning. This time when she rounded the corner of the house, the back was empty. There was no sign of the CJ and all four garage doors were closed and locked. After a sharp look around, Alina turned back to the front of the house, her eyes falling to the hard-packed dirt of the driveway. Multiple tire tracks streaked the drive and she shook her head, raising her gaze and scanning the trees on the other side of the driveway. The feeling of disquiet persisted and, as she rounded the front of the house to go up the steps to the porch, Viper reached behind her to unsnap the holster in the small of her back.
She reached out to knock on the edge of the screen door and Viper's hand stilled midair. Looking through the screen, she could see around the front door and into the living room. With one smooth mo
tion, Viper pulled the .45 from her back holster and silently opened the screen door, flipping the safety off as she stepped into the house.
The living room was in shredded chaos. Chairs and the sofa were cut open, stuffing yanked out and thrown around the room until a carpet of fake snow covered the wood floor. All the pictures from the walls lay on the floor, surrounded by broken glass. The drawers from a side table were out and their contents strewn across the floor, leaving empty yawning caverns in the table. Nothing was left untouched. The room was completely trashed.
“Damn,” Viper breathed, glancing down the hallway. From where she stood, she could see the destruction extended to the kitchen.
She stood very still in the mess, listening. The house was utterly silent. Viper pursed her lips and moved silently down the hall, from room to room, taking in the devastation. Someone systematically destroyed Lani's house, leaving no picture or knick-knack unturned in their wake. They were very thorough, evidence that they were searching for something small.
Once she determined that the first floor was free of another human soul, Viper turned toward the stairs. So far, she'd found no sign of a struggle amidst the mess, no blood splatters or broken furniture. As she moved up the stairs silently, Viper kept her ears tuned for any sound outside of the silence. Perhaps, just perhaps, Lani wasn't home when they came to search her house and tear what was left of her world apart. Perhaps she had no idea of the mess waiting for her when she returned.
Viper reached the second floor and went right, keeping her back to the wall as she moved down the hall to the master bedroom. Had Dominic sent Tito to look for the trigger? Viper couldn't imagine the boss in the Italian suit getting his own hands dirty. He had to be getting desperate. If the trigger was for Asad Jamal, and it was looking more and more likely that it was, Dominic was a walking dead man if he didn't get it back. He would know that. The abject devastation surrounding her was proof enough to Viper that Dominic was running out of time.