Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run (13 page)

She sighed again and rested her head on his shoulder. “Max, they’re trussed up like turkeys with the way you tied them. That’s gotta be awfully uncomfortable.”

“I certainly hope so, considering they shot you.” He brushed his lips gently over her forehead. “I hate it that they hurt you.”

She stared at him, her gray eyes intense. In them, he read wariness, defiance, and a resilient strength she probably wasn’t even aware
of
. But nowhere did he see hypocrisy, dishonesty, or self-absorption.

“You’re beautiful, Tess, inside and out.”

The cautious delight that swept over her face gave him immense pleasure, though he found it hard to believe she wasn’t used to hearing it. Hadn’t anyone ever told her? Or had Nick convinced her she was plain?

“Max, I—”

“Hush.” He touched a finger to her lips. “That wasn’t a question and doesn’t require an answer. But since we may both be dead tomorrow, I thought I should tell you. Okay?”

“I—thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s go warn your friends they’re in danger. Before they find it out the hard way.”

***

Nick felt a rush of exhilaration as Tony parked the Jeep behind Joe’s black sedan. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

Kidnapping children to force a confrontation with Tess—he couldn’t think of anything more appropriate for a woman who’d betrayed him for two children she’d never seen before. Whatever happened to these Mexican kids was entirely her fault.

“You’re not having second thoughts about this are you?” Tony’s voice echoed with contempt. “I thought we decided we’d do whatever it took to get her.”

“No, I’m not having second thoughts. I agree it’s an excellent idea.” Nick opened his door and got out. “I’m just a little nervous about doing it in front of a whole village full of people.”

Tony chuckled. “I hadn’t really planned on doing it here. I just want to make sure the family hasn’t gone out of town.” He started walking in the direction of the village square. “If they’re here, we’ll set up the ambush at their farm in plenty of time before they get home. But I’m not waiting there for hours if they’ve gone out of town or something.”

“That makes sense.” Nick stopped to light a cigarette. “How are we going to kill Tess when the time comes?”

Tony rubbed a hand over his chin. “I haven’t quite figured that out yet. I really thought one of our guys would just shoot her. But if it’s left up to us, I don’t think I want to make it that quick and easy. With all the trouble she’s caused me, I’d really like her to suffer before she dies.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” A wave of dark anticipation swept through Nick, making his dick hard as iron. He stopped to adjust himself then caught up with Tony. “She needs to die horrifically. In great pain.”

“I’ll see if I can accommodate you,” Tony promised with a smile. “Now let’s go find Joe and have him guard the cars. As much as I like Mexicans, they’ll steal anything that’s not chained down.”

“I can’t understand why you like them. I think they’re scum.”

***

Max used his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “We’d better not take the road into the village,” he observed, as they left the farmhouse. “Just in case Nick and Tony decide to come back. Is there another way to get there without retracing our steps to the cave?”

Tess pointed to a small dirt path leading through the desert. “That trail there. It’s quite a distance from the road, so it should be safe.”

As they walked, he thought about what she’d told him, but her story didn’t jive. He didn’t think she was leaving anything out on purpose, but something was missing all the same. “Tess, the murders you witnessed, any idea what the family’s last name was or why Nick killed them?”

“He never gave me any reason for shooting them. But I think their last name was Vargas. Why?”

“Well, this whole thing’s a little confusing.”

She glanced up at him. “In what way?”

“Let me see if I can explain.” As he gathered his thoughts, he watched a black-chinned hummingbird flitting around a flowering cactus and wondered how it could stand this damned heat—heat that left him weak and exhausted.

“If Nick’s only concern is to keep you from testifying at a murder trial, he’s already accomplished that. You’re here, not in Utah. You’re scared, and you won’t be going home. What more does he need? Why does he have to kill you?” He took her hand, linked their fingers. “My gut tells me Nick’s up to something. Vargas must have known about it, and Nick thinks you do, too. And whatever it is, he’s afraid you can stop it.”

***

3:12 p.m., the hotel room of Bartholomew Graves, Salt Lake City, Utah
:

As he read the coded report from the KSS, Graves’ hands shook, making the pages tremble. He’d known Nick was no good, but he’d had no idea how evil the little bastard was.

The four-page document was blunt and professional, but Graves could read the outrage between the neatly typed lines.

When he read the last page, the air in the room seemed to thin. He found it hard to breathe. The author had to be mistaken. Even Nick wouldn’t do something like this. Would he?

Graves lifted the prepaid cell phone he’d purchased that afternoon and dialed a number from memory—one he didn’t dare put in his address book.

“Yes?” said the KSS member who answered.

Graves hesitated, reminding himself to be careful what he said on the phone. “Are you positive about what you reported on page four of the document that was delivered to me this afternoon?”

“My sources don’t lie to me,” the man said in a tone of voice that gave
Graves
goosebumps.

“Could he have been mistaken about the Middle Eastern element?”

“I doubt it. The source works for the subject. So I think you can take this as gospel.”

Graves didn’t realize he’d snapped the phone shut and dropped it on the bed until his head was cradled in both hands.

***

Baja California Sur
:

Tess stopped walking and stared at Max. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying Nick’s involved in something bigger than killing the Vargas family?”

“Yes.”

“But why would he think I knew about it? I wasn’t involved in his criminal activities. Until he murdered that family, I didn’t even know he had any criminal activities.” She struggled to concentrate on the problem at hand, but outrage clouded her mind. This was all a
mistake
? God, life was so damn unfair. “How could he possibly think I know anything about what he’s up to?”

“I don’t know, but apparently he does. And we need to fix that.”

She rolled her eyes. As comforting as it would be to believe that was possible, she knew better. “You think if I can convince him I don’t know anything, he’ll stop trying to kill me? You can’t be that naïve, Max. Nick wants me dead because I defied him and went to the FBI. It could be as simple as that.”

“I’m not saying he’d stop, but I doubt he’d expend all the money and manpower evident this morning. And if he didn’t try so hard, you’d have a better chance of surviving.”

She shook her head. “You have to understand Nick. He hates being disobeyed or embarrassed. Just look what happened to Bruce. And to Vargas.” Her eyes misted. She cursed herself and forced back the tears. “He won’t stop, and neither will Tony.”

Max leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Then we’ll have to find a way to make them stop. Now, enough about Nick,” he added. “Since I can’t tell you about my life, tell me more about yours before all this happened.”

She knew he was trying to take her mind off her troubles. And because it felt so good, so normal and safe to talk about something other than the disaster her life had become, she let herself be distracted.

She told him about the pleasure she got from creating unusual and elaborate costumes from ordinary, everyday materials. And about some of the unique items she used to create her effects, like the medieval chain mail she’d made from the flip-tops on soda pop cans.

She talked about Griffin then moved on to her costume shop and her life in Salt Lake City before Nick destroyed it. “I don’t have much good to say about the Mormons, but they do have a lot of activities for their youth. So there are always plays or pageants that need costumes. And making an impression’s a big deal to them, which means designer costumes even for kindergarten plays. Salt Lake City’s a great place to own a costume shop, even if you’re not a Mormon.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t tar and feather you because you didn’t convert.”

She snorted. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m stubborn, so I resisted all efforts to baptize me.” She saw no reason to spoil the mood by going into it in more detail. He didn’t need to know everything.

She was amazed at how easy it was to talk to him and how comfortable she felt being with him. It had never been like this with Nick.

As they approached the village, fear crowded in again, reminding her that her life wasn’t safe. And as long as he was with her, Max’s wasn’t either.

Her good mood evaporated. She couldn’t let him sacrifice himself for her. He didn’t even know who he was. She fell silent, wondering if, when he got his memories back, he’d hate her for getting him involved in this.

He squeezed her hand. “Why so quiet? You okay?”

Yanking her hand free, she stepped away from him and gestured to where the trail curved around a thicket of cacti. “Just around that bend is the village. We should part company here. If you stick with me any longer, you’ll only end up dead.”

He grabbed her arm and hauled her back to him. “What the hell are you talking about? You want me
to just abandon
you here? Or are you abandoning me?”

Her temper rose as he glowered at her. This was hard enough without his macho bullshit. “Neither. I’ll give you some money for food and a motel room. But I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to die because of me.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. At least not if I can help it.”

She groaned, her anger losing ground as despair roared up and seized her by the throat. “Look, whether I want to believe it or not, my life is measured in days. Or possibly weeks.” Jerking out of his grasp, she folded her arms across her chest and looked away, certain her anguish showed on her face. “Maybe months if I’m really, really lucky. And if you stay with me, your life will be measured, too.”

“I’d say that’s my decision, not yours.” When she didn’t respond, he put his hand on her cheek and turned her face back in line with his, but she closed her eyes and refused to look at him. “Isn’t it, Tess?”

Pain welled up in her heart until she was drowning in it. “No, Max, it isn’t. You could be some woman’s husband. Some kid’s father.” She opened her eyes and met his. “I won’t let you gamble your life for me when you could have obligations to someone else. Until you get your memory back, you don’t have enough facts to make that kind of decision.”

“You need my help, angel. At least with me, you won’t stand out as a woman alone.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand. “I’m not questioning your courage, Tess. And I know you’ve survived on your own for some time. But Nick’s never been right on your doorstep before, has he?”

She shuddered. Nick had been this close, but not for some time, nor had she been this terrified. But if she admitted it, Max would stay, and his death would be on her head. She turned away again, afraid of what he might see on her face.

“I guess that answers my question.” He took her shoulders and pulled her back around. “You don’t really want me to go, do you, Tess?”

She wanted to lie, but couldn’t. “No, but I do want to be fair.”

“Be fair on your own time,” he said and kissed her forehead. “I’m staying with you.”

The glint in his eyes told her arguing would do no good. Accepting defeat, she nodded. If he wouldn’t leave her, there was little she could do about it. At least she’d tried to do the right thing.

“Okay, then, what’s the plan?” she asked.

He glanced around at the desert, his expression thoughtful, then he pulled her over to the thicket of cacti and shrubbery near the bend in the trail.

“We’ll leave the duffel bag and backpack here for now.” He fingered a lock of her hair. “Do you have anything to cover your head with? We won’t be able to keep out of sight.”

“I stole a disguise from town yesterday when I first spotted Nick’s men.” She retrieved the dress and what was left of the tablecloth from her duffel bag. Slipping the dress on over her jeans, she tied the clothesline around her waist then draped the tablecloth over her hair. “How’s this?”

“Disgusting, but it’ll do.” He took the guns out of her backpack and handed her one. “Here, put this in the waistband of the dress and blouse it over a bit to cover it.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah. That should work.”

He stuck the other gun in his own waistband at the small of his back, letting his shirt hang outside his pants to cover it. With what he’d torn off the bottom of his shirt to bandage her arm, she was surprised he had as much left as he did.