Second Sight (15 page)

Chapter 26

Zach had no idea where he was, or where he would be going, for that matter, when who he assumed was David Foust walked him out the front door of the function, down the steps, and to the right. They remained silent until they came to a stop, and Foust pulled Zach’s hands behind his back, pushing him against what he guessed must be the side of a car based on the feeling of cool metal. 

“Before I get tied up, I usually like to at least know the name of the person doing it,” Zach quipped.

When he didn’t get an answer, he continued. “Okay, I’ll just assume you’re David Foust, asshole extraordinaire. How am I doing?”

His captor grunted, and he took that as a ‘yes.’

“Is that really necessary? Does the thought of a blind man in your back seat have your balls retracting in fear?”

Foust laughed. “Let’s cut the shit, okay? I know who you are, and I know you used to kill people for a living. Tonight, I’m not giving you the chance to assassinate me.”

He cuffed Zach’s hands together with a zip tie, making sure the plastic dug into his skin. Foust then pushed him into the backseat of the car.

They sped along, heavy silence permeating the air.

“So, is the Iranian dead?” Zach asked.

“Of course he is. That’s what I was hired to do. I never fail at my missions.”

“Out of professional curiosity, can you tell me how did you did it?”

Foust chuckled. “Well, first, I had to kill one of the waiters, then I took his I.D. Thankfully, he resembled me because the security at that event was a bitch. Mr. McDay must think he’s pretty important. Anyway, I served that fucker some poisoned water and watched him go down.”

“Hmmm. Simple and efficient. Based on your previous blood baths, I would have assumed you’d kill him plus a few dozen more.”

Foust didn’t answer, and they rode in silence for a while longer.

No matter which way he thought through the scenario, he knew that Joe, or someone in Joe’s organization, was the reason he would be dead soon. He had to know before he left this earth who had given him up, and figured he might as well ask.

“Who told you I was there? Who gave me up?”

“No more talking, Zachary. Not now, anyway.”

“I thought you’d want to brag about how superior you are to me, how you knew all along why I was there.”

David took a sharp left, sending Zach into the door. He grimaced as his shoulder hit the panel.

A few moments later, they came to an abrupt stop. If only he’d been able to keep track of all the turns they’d taken, but based on the fact that his stomach rolled, he guessed a lot of them hadn’t been necessary. Maybe David had been trying to keep him from memorizing the route, which meant he knew a lot more about Zach than he’d originally thought. Yes, someone in Joe’s organization definitely stood behind this mess. He had been the only one who knew the details of Zach’s abilities besides Garrett. There couldn’t be any way for the government to know his whereabouts unless someone from Joe’s organization had served him up.

As David pulled him out of the car, he wondered what had happened to Ella. Had she returned to the table to find him gone, or had she been a part of it?

Had
she
been the one to turn him over?

Interesting. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed plausible. That night in the hot tub, she’d kept apologizing, and he hadn’t wanted to rock the boat and get a distinctive answer as to why. He should have proverbially tipped that fucker right over and drowned them both, if necessary. Did she have it in her to sacrifice him like this? Had everything he thought he felt from her been a lie?

His footsteps echoed on a concrete floor, and he couldn’t help but smile. He’d bet his right nut he would be sat down in a chair in the middle of a large, concrete room—he’d seen it in his visions.

“Sit down.”

Bingo.

He did as told and waited. What did Foust want from him, besides blood?

“So,” Foust started.

The scraping of metal against concrete met Zach’s ears, and he guessed the man had pulled up a chair in front of him. When he smelled the faint tint of body odor and sour breath, he knew for sure.

“I want you to tell me all about Joe Smith and his organization.”

Whoa.

This made no sense. If it hadn’t been someone in Joe’s organization to turn him over to Group Nine, then who?

He heard the whoosh of the metal rod before it landed on his left thigh. He bit back a scream as his quad exploded in pain. He shut his eyes, imagining taking David Foust down to the ground and wrapping his hands around his neck, watching the life drain out of him.

“If that’s the information you want, you’ve got the wrong guy,” he bit out, trying to keep his tone even.

“That’s not what I’ve been told.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re part of the organization, and you know the ins and outs of it. You’re deeply rooted in the framework and have lots of intricate knowledge.”

Zach threw his head back and laughed, despite the radiating pain in his leg. “Whoever fed you that line of bullshit was very misinformed. The only thing I’m certain of about Joe and his organization is an
intricate knowledge
of his ex-lover.”

Foust sat silently, waiting for more.

“That’s all I’ve got for you, man.”

The fist hit his face, the impact rattling his brain as his glasses flew across the room.

“What the fuck was that for?” he mumbled.

“Damn, your eyes are some scary shit, Johnson.”

“You should see what I’m capable of when I’m not tied in a chair by a coward.”

Foust chuckled. “Let’s start over. Tell me what you know about Joe’s organization.”

Zach shook his head. “I’ve told you what I know, man.”

Foust hit him again.

He sighed. It seemed as if it would be a long night.

Chapter 27

Ella pulled the car up behind the one that had carried Zach and exhaled loudly.

“You ready to do this?” the man next to her asked.

She nodded and smiled at him.

Ruben Barton had been the operative she’d shot a couple of months ago. A sweet southern boy from Alabama, she now couldn’t believe how she’d ever found him to be a pain in her ass, or thought of him as a parody of the white trash television comedy shows she’d seen. If she had opened up to him, he would have revealed he’d been a part of the platoon that had been in the explosion in the Guatemala jungle. Instead, she now realized she knew very little, if anything about him. What she did understand was that she had gotten herself in a huge mess, and she needed his help.

She’d found a note he’d left her when he’d stayed with her. He’d gone out for the afternoon and left his number in case she needed anything. When she’d called him yesterday from Palm Springs, she’d begged for his help.

“Why on God’s green Earth would I want to help you, Ella?” he’d asked in his heavy drawl. “You shot me!”

“I know, Ruben, and I’m so sorry. Help me because … because you’re a good person, Ruben. I’ve done something horrible, and I need you to help me fix it. Joe can’t know about it.”

“I’m not comfortable going behind Joe’s back.”

“Please, Ruben. If he knows what I’ve done, he may kill me.”

“What have you gone and done?”

She’d broken down in sobs as she’d unloaded her sorry story—how she’d contacted Group Nine, how they’d hunted her down, and how she’d given Zach up to them.

“If I didn’t do it, Ruben, they’d kill Zach and me, and once they find this house, they’ll have everything they need on Joe because of the computer. I need to save Zach, and Joe’s organization. This was the only way I could see to do it.”

“Sweet Jesus, Ella. That’s one big pile of horseshit you’ve stepped in.”

“I know. I don’t know where else to go for help. Please.”

“What’s the guy’s name that you turned over to Group Nine?”

“Zach. Zachary Johnson. He was in the military. He’s a good guy, Ruben.”

“I knew a guy named Zach. Tall, thin dude, always looks like he walked off the pages of some fashion magazine?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s him!”

“No shit! How about that?”

“I … I think I may be falling in love with him.”

Ruben let out a slow whistle. “I sure as hell didn’t see that coming.”

“Ruben, please help me.”

“I’m doing this for Zach, not you, okay? I tried to be gentlemanly toward you, and ended up getting shot. I don’t take to kindly to that sort of hospitality.”

She sighed in relief. “I understand.”

They’d come up with a plan. When she saw the member of Group Nine approaching Zach, she’d leave the table and meet up with Ruben in back of the building. From there, they’d tail the black operative and Zach.

Coming back to the present, she stared at the building they’d tailed Zachary to as her stomach clenched and her nerves rattled. “I hope they haven’t killed him.”

Ruben took out his gun and checked the magazine. “Oh, you got nothing to worry about there. I’m sure they’re beating the shit out of him right about now, trying to get information.”

She winced, and they got out of the car. With her decision to turn Zach in also came the knowledge that he’d be done with her, if he didn’t kill her outright. She had little hope for forgiveness and reconciliation. She’d simply have to disappear after she made sure Zach was safe, back under the protection of Joe and his organization.

“You got your gun, Ella?”

She nodded and held it up. The thought of killing someone didn’t sit right with her, but if it meant saving Zach, then so be it.

“You sure you want to wear those shoes? I think pig with two legs tied together could probably run better than you’ll be able to in those.”

She took off her pumps and threw them into the back seat.

“You’ll also want to cut a slit up the side of your dress. Not that I’m noticing in the least bit, but it seems like it could be a little confining if you found yourself in a situation where you needed to move quickly.”

She took the Swiss army knife he offered and sliced the fabric up to mid-thigh with shaky hands.

“Now you look like a badass warrior princess or something,” Ruben said with a smile. “Let’s go get my buddy back.”

“Shouldn’t we go in the back door or something?” she asked.

“Nah. I’ve always been a believer in the front door entrance. Everyone expects the back door. The front door takes balls, and I got myself a heavy set of those.”

She couldn’t help but smile. That was something Zach would have said.

He looked around the area to make sure they were alone, and then opened the door, slipping inside.

She followed, taking care of where she stepped.

Chapter 28

Blood trickled down Zach’s cheek. The cut above his eye must be responsible. Well, actually, Foust had been responsible, but with his hands tied, not much he could do but take the next punch.

The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that Ella had been the one to give him up. In fact, as the next blow landed to his gut, he knew it for sure.

This guy stuck to the ‘what do you know about Joe’s organization’ theme, and if it had been someone in Joe’s organization, this wouldn’t be necessary. They’d have all the information they needed, and he’d just be dead.

He didn’t know the details of how it had all gone down, but Ella had offered him up on a silver platter.

Oddly enough, he couldn’t get past the hurt the knowledge brought to hate her. He simply couldn’t believe that what they’d shared had been a lie. There had to be extenuating circumstances that had forced her to put him in this situation.

“Haven’t you had enough?” Foust asked, breathing hard.

“That’s what you’ll be saying when I jam that pipe up your ass.”

The man laughed. “How’s that going to happen? You’re tied up. I’m not, you stupid fool. Maybe I should roll you over and see what—”

“I’d suggest you put that pipe down right now, sir,” a voice drawled from across the room.

Zach sat still for a moment while recognition set in. Ruben? He’d know that deep accent anywhere, and he’d only ever known one man who called his target ‘sir.’

How in the hell had Ruben got sucked into this?

He heard the hammer being pulled back close to him; the sound as loud as a bomb to his ears. The bullet had his name on it. Foust would finish him off and then go after Ruben.

He remembered a vision in the mirror from this morning—a snapshot of a man’s legs dressed in black pants, with scuffed black shoes. Suddenly, another foot had appeared in the vision, connecting with the man’s knee. Now, those shoes had been shined to perfection.

He’d wiped his shoes tonight and verified with Ella that they’d been mark-free.

Taking a deep breath, he took a guess on where Foust stood and lashed out his foot. The snap of Foust’s knee echoed throughout the empty space, along with his screams of pain. A loud shot followed, and he wondered who had fired it.

“Zach!” Ella yelled.

What the hell was she doing here?

He fell to the ground and landed on his shoulder, dislocating it. Sitting up, he moved hands from his back to the front, then slammed his shoulder back into place on the concrete, keeping the scream of pain securely in his throat. Quickly, he brought his hands up and crashed them into his stomach while flaring his arms, breaking the ties. The air stung the open wounds as blood trickled down his hands.

He got slammed to the ground again, and had to assume Foust was responsible. They grappled, Zach’s anger boiling, yet focusing him. He would kill this fucker.

Getting the upper hand, he straddled Foust and smiled as a satisfying crack sounded throughout the room as his fist connected with the man’s face. He had no idea where the gun had gone, and hoped it wouldn’t end up buried in his gut anytime soon.

Foust slammed him in the stomach, and again in the jaw. Zach’s breath left him, and he struggled to fill his lungs. He brought his elbow down, hoping to hit a face, but got even luckier, planting it in his windpipe.

His assailant gasped for air, and Zach wrapped his hand around his neck, the need to feel the last bit of breath leaving the sadist killer overwhelming him.

“Zach! No!” Ella screamed, and he knew something was about to go very wrong.

The shot rang out, throwing him backward. Pain exploded in his shoulder and his training took over as he rolled to his side, hiding his internal organs, in case Foust got another shot off. If a bullet did enter him, it may hit something important, but at least, he didn’t have his gut out in the open for target practice. Fear seeped into his bones as the smell of gunpowder seemed to choke him as he waited for his life to flash before his eyes. He always assumed he’d see he important people and events that made him the man he was today—his childhood in the orphanages, his time in the military, the men in his platoon he’d grown so close to that he considered them the brother’s he he’d never had. What other images would he see before he lost his life? Would Ella be there?

Another shot echoed in the chamber, and Ella screamed. A hand landed on his shoulder and he lashed out, fury still driving him. His fist connected with someone, and he heard Ella cry out. Shit. Had he just hit her?

A final shot sounded and the room went silent.

“Zach, it’s me,” Ella said from next to him. Someone touched him again, squeezed his hand. “We’re safe, Zach. He’s dead.”

He sighed as his head began to swim. Before he passed out, the last words he heard were, “Hell, he ain’t just dead. His brains are all over the damn floor.”

He smiled as his mind shut down, recognizing for certain Ruben’s deep drawl.

“We need to get out of here, Ruben.”

“For a change, you and I agree, Ella.”

He hauled Zach over his shoulder with ease and began walking toward the door. “Good thing this boy ain’t never been into weight-lifting.”

Ella followed him to the car, and once inside, pulled out her phone. Taking a deep breath, she called Joe.

“Ella?”

“Yes. It’s done. We had some … issues. Zach is hurt, and the Palm Springs house has been compromised. I need to take him somewhere safe.”

“How did the house become compromised?”

“I don’t have time for twenty questions right now, Joe! I need to get Zach somewhere that I can help him!”

“One minute.”

He placed her on hold for what seemed like a small eternity.

“I’m not sure where to go,” Ruben murmured as he drove.

“Just keep moving.”

Joe finally got back on the phone as Zach groaned from the backseat.

“Ella, head to the airport. The jet is there and fueled up. They will take you to San Diego where there’s a safe house. I’ll be there in a couple of days to debrief Zach. How badly is he hurt?”

She turned around and looked at his battered face. He seemed pale, and she hoped the bullet hadn’t nicked an artery.

“He’s been shot. I’m going to need a medical bag at the plane.”

“Of course.”

A beat of silence ensued. “Are you okay, Ella?”

She didn’t know how to answer that because she certainly didn’t feel okay. Her nerves had been shot, her guilt remained off the charts for what she’d done, and fear gripped her heart at the thought of losing Zach. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

“Okay. I’ll have the Palm Springs house cleared out. Where’s the body? Is a clean-up necessary?”

“Yes.” She gave him the address of the warehouse.

“Savannah,” Zach whispered from the back seat.

Crap. She’d forgotten about the dog.

“I’ve got to go, Joe,” she said, hanging up. “Ruben, head to the Four Season Hotel. We need to pick up Savannah.”

“Who’s that?”

“His dog.”

“Damn, I didn’t know Zach got a dog. Him and I got some catching up to do.”

If he lives
.