Zack (In the Company of Snipers Book 3) (15 page)

Give me a break.
He stared her down. This was a cold-hearted madam, pure and simple, a pig of an older woman who sold little girl flesh to the highest bidder. A troll by any other name.

“You want?” She jerked her head toward the girls, her palm held open. “You pay?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I—”

“Then you want see babies now?” she screeched again, impatient and rude.

“Yes,” Mei spoke up, preventing Zack from saying what had sprung to the tip of his tongue.

The older woman snapped at the girls. They left as quickly and as quietly as they’d entered.

He leaned into Mei’s ear. “What’d she say?”

“She told them to go away.” Mei’s voice sounded firm, but he saw the tremble. “No one wants ugly dogs.”

“Are you two okay?” David asked kindly. It had to be hard for him, too.

Zack couldn’t speak with Jun nearby. He tapped his earpiece to signal affirmative.

“You come. Now. You come.” Jun screeched from the hall, her hand on her hip and a glare in her eye.

Zack tucked Mei under his arm, stepping between her and their obnoxious guide while his mind worked the gaping flaw in the logistics of this illegal trade. How had all those uber-elitist couples been introduced to the children they’d adopted? There had to have been an agent involved, someone who’d circumvented the very distasteful selection process. Like a lawyer? Yeah. That had to be how they facilitated the transfer of ownership, one shark to another.

The nightmare continued.

Jun waved Zack and Mei to another set of doors. The moment she opened them, a wave of uncleanliness assaulted his nose, the odor of too many unchanged diapers and vomit. Oddly, no children cried from within. No coos or giggles either.

Mei grimaced and covered her nose with the back of her hand as she followed Jun into a long narrow room. Five baby beds lined one wall; four playpens lined the opposite wall. There were no windows. The aisle in the middle of the room accommodated one changing table, a metal shelf of diapers, clothing and other baby supplies. Each bed held two infants, separated by a wooden board placed widthwise. The playpens contained two or three toddler-sized little girls, sitting or standing. Dozens of eyes turned to the sound of adults at the door.

Zack froze at the doorway, taking in the sight. He meant to position another Tattle Tale, but his heart failed. The room looked more like a kennel, a pound, where children were penned like animals. All those little girls’ eyes were pairs of almond shaped lasers to his soul. Yes, the cages were baby beds and playpens, but the sheer magnitude stole his breath. This was the nursery?

“Send me a feed,” David reminded him.

Mei stood waiting, her face ashen. “Come,” she said softly, her hand reaching for him.

Zack pressed the Tattle Tale to the doorframe before he stepped into the room. David’s soft gasp in his ear was the only confirmation he heard that the video device was sending. His lungs seemed incapable of pulling in air. Too many babies watched him. He clutched Mei’s fingers, pulling her arm into his as together they moved from playpen to playpen and bed to bed, looking into the face of every girl.

These little ones were as serious and unsmiling as the older girls. Each had the same short haircut and the same mirthless eyes staring back. One little girl stood at the side of her playpen, her thumb in her mouth and drool on her chin. The second he looked at her, she lifted her arms to be picked up. He couldn’t resist. Innocently, Zack reached out to tousle her hair.

“You no touch.” Jun wagged her bony finger at him from where she stood at the door. “No touch. No talk.”

And he’d had enough. A man can only be bullied for so long, and he’d had a gut full.

“What if I want this one?” He picked up the little gal with the upstretched arms, the one reaching for him, and seated her tiny butt on his forearm. She was a delicate little thing, maybe one and a half years old, with the saddest eyes. He only wanted to put a smile on her all too serious baby face. That’s how he was made, to give women what they wanted no matter how old they were.

Jun sputtered.

The fragile little lady on his arm looked up at him. Instinctively, he cupped her head. She fit so easily in the palm of his hand. Two pouty lips puckered into the saddest smile as she laid her head against his chest. The flutter of her heartbeat against his melted him. The baby looked up at him, and he fell into her eyes. The universe shifted. A tiny baby sigh escaped her lips, and his big tough, ex-Marine heart fell a thousand feet.

David was saying something in his ear, but all he could see was Mei looking at him with sudden tenderness and mouthing the word, ‘
No’.

It was too late. He’d been smitten by the power of love at first sight and smitten hard. Somehow, when he’d chosen her, the baby had also picked him.

Jun’s beady eyes lit up. “You like? You take? Good. Good.”

Here he was, a highly trained soldier–a sniper. He’d been through combat. He’d seen orphans and motherless children before. Hell, the world was full of them, but until this moment they’d all moved around him like a human sea he wasn’t really part of. They were nameless. Not his problem. Medics treated them. He might toss handfuls of candy, but for the most part, a sniper’s life was lonely. He’d lived a remote life that facilitated his mission.

But standing there in a stench-filled room with a fragile life in the same hands that had squeezed off death-dealing rounds all over the world, Zack couldn’t breathe, much less think. A warm feeling for which he had no resistance flooded his body from head to toe, taking his common sense with it. Something rare and wonderful had just happened. He couldn’t pretend it hadn’t.

Mei came right away to him and tried to pull the little girl out of his arms.

“Don’t.” He turned away from her, maintaining careful hold on his baby. “This is the one...I want.”

“No.” Mei elbowed him, her determination in high gear. “We must see them all.”

“But you don’t understand.” He heard his mouth working. For some reason his brain was no longer attached to it.

“Remember why we are here?” she hissed, her eyes as hard and cold as Jun’s.

Zack stared. Oh, hell. He was an idiot. Plain and simple. He’d let his emotion get the best of him–again. They were not here to rescue or select. Not yet. Not today. His brain had slipped a gear, popped a clutch.

Reality hit him hard when she eased the child from his grasp and replaced her in the filthy playpen. Mei knew how to hold a baby. He blinked hard, looking down on the little girl again. She’d scrambled back to the side of the playpen and pulled herself up, her fingers clutching the netting until she stood again, her eyes glistening with
‘Please take me home. Don’t leave me’.

He gulped, reaching for the baby girl again.

“No.” Mei was not so gentle this time. She dug her nails into the back of his arm, pulling him away.

“Not yet,” he growled, twisting out of her grasp. “I can’t leave her.”

“Yes, Agent Lennox, you can.” Mei jerked him again, forcing him to look down at her.

Zack looked down at the wolverine on his arm. Man, she had mean eyes, she was right. They were on a mission to find her daughter. That’s all. Just LiLi.

“We are through here.” Mei hissed a rapid string of scolding Chinese at Jun.

The older woman waved her hand, pointing to the front door. “Go then. No baby for you. Who care? Go.” She blew a puff of cigarette smoke at them. “You two very stupid.”

Mei’s fingers pinched all the way through his leather coat as she pushed him away.

“No,” he groaned.

“Yes,” she countered quickly.

“I can’t just—”

“You will.” Mei’s whispered command cut through the daze.

Zack steeled himself.
She’s right. What’s wrong with me? I’m on a mission. I can’t screw this op, too.

His feet moved. Something annoying kept buzzing in his ear. He walked out the door, his heart pounding painfully hard as he dutifully resumed the husbandly role of a childless rich couple. Jun slammed the door behind them, muttering about stupid Americans. He walked down the five concrete steps in a daze and held the car door for Mei like a good husband should. He turned the ignition and started the ride he loved, but something was wrong. It didn’t shine like it used to. He got behind the steering wheel and drove down the road. The engine didn’t purr anymore either. No joy eased up from the throttle to his palm. The gearshift felt cold. The whole damned car felt hollow. Empty.

After two blocks, the buzzing in his ear was the last straw. He jerked the elegantly designed vehicle to the curb while he pummeled the steering wheel, dash, and anything within reach. When that wasn’t enough, he threw himself out of the car. The sight of his sleek machine poured more fuel on his already roaring fire of disgust. Zack hauled back and hit the pearl black beauty. Pacing back and forth, his frustration escalated. He kicked the side panel because he knew kicking the tire would only break his foot. Nothing helped. He raked his fingernails over his head, full of self-loathing that knew no bounds. The gentle weight of that child still rested against him, her fragile head against his heart. A mighty groan rose within, one he could not allow to spill out. All he had was this stinking car!

At last, Mei’s voice broke through the rage. “Agent Lennox. No. Please stop.”

He stilled, taut in the chilly November morning, heaving great breaths that didn’t give any relief. The muscles in his arms twitched. It was hard not to strike her, too.

What have I done? Why didn’t I take that baby out of there? I could have.

The bitter word dug at him.
Coward.

“I have to go back.”

“No. It’s not why we went there. We’re on a mission.” She threw the word at him like it meant something, clutching his elbow like he might fall. “Can you drive?” she asked.

He glared down at her, nothing but anger ready to spew. Instead, he growled, “Yeah. I can drive.”

She held his door while he took the wheel. That was odd, her holding his door. The world had turned upside down. Nothing felt right. He turned the ignition, his head full of unvented anger. The starter growled back at him. The damned car was still running. Mei hurried around to her side, and once again, they were ready to go. Too late the thunder in his head stilled and he knew what the buzzing sound was.

“Zack, listen to me.” David’s panicked voice registered deep inside his ear canal. “Can you hear me?”

“Not now.” He peeled the earpiece out of his ear and tossed it to the floor, fogging the window in front of him with his heavy breath. Shit. David and Todd had heard everything. Not only heard, but seen. He screwed the op. Soon Alex would know. It didn’t matter. Everywhere he looked, sad dark baby eyes stared back at him. The memory of that orphaned feminine soul still fluttered against his strong male heart, a heart that could have saved her.

He punched the steering wheel again.

“Agent Lennox is very angry.”

“I heard,” Agent Tao answered quietly. “What can I do?”

“He wants to be alone.” Mei peered out the back window of the safe house. She’d called Agent Tao the moment Agent Lennox tossed his leather jacket to the floor and headed to the backyard. The two pistols holstered beneath his arms made her very nervous, given the explosive rage she’d witnessed. He sat on the picnic table, his feet on the bench and his hands on his knees. His back was to the house and his face to the six-foot high fence surrounding the yard.

“His car is full of dents,” she murmured.

“He punched it? I was afraid of that.”

“You heard everything?”

“Yes.”

“He won’t like it.”

Agent Tao sighed. “He picked up one of the babies.”

“Yes,” she whispered. Agent Lennox couldn’t hear her, but she felt deceitful talking about him behind his back. “The home is a very terrible place. We must find all of these foster homes are, and the police need to raid them.”

“We’re working on it. Alex is already in touch with the FBI, Interpol, and local authorities.”

Agent Lennox stood, his hands to his hips, staring over the fence. He slipped the holster off his shoulders. After he folded the belt and set the weapons on the table, he dropped to his hands and knees, pushed his feet behind him and began doing push-ups. Mei counted ten. Still he pumped, his palms pressed to the concrete patio. Up. Down. Faster and faster.

“I need to fix something to eat,” she said. “He will be very hungry.”

“He won’t be hungry,” Agent Tao said. “If he comes up swinging, call me. But if he assumes the hero pose, I think he will be okay.”

“The what?” Mei asked. “The hero pose? What is that?”

“A yoga position,” he explained. “Zack will look like he is kneeling, sitting back on his thighs. If his palms are open and facing up, it means he’s relinquishing his bad energy to the universe. He is seeking balance to cope with the anger he feels.”

Mei glanced at Agent Lennox. She’d lost count of how many push-ups he’d done. He’d slowed. The push-ups took longer. Sweat dampened his back and glistened off his head and neck. It looked more like he was seeking to kill himself than to find balance.

“Let me know if I should come over,” Agent Tao said.

“I will. Thank you.”

She hung up, her eyes glued to the angry man outside the window. At last, Agent Lennox stopped at the highest point of a push-up, his arms outstretched, his full weight supported on fisted bleeding hands. Beads of sweat dripped off his brow, nose, and chin to the concrete beneath his face.

Mei winced. The position had to be extremely painful on the hands he’d just used to batter his car. Blood stained the concrete patio beneath his fists. Still he held. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

At last he sank to a prone position, his nose pressed to the ground, his elbows cocked at his sides to pump again. He didn’t. Very slowly, he lifted to his hands and knees. Sitting back on his haunches, he faced the fence. Just as Agent Tao had predicted, Agent Lennox assumed the hero position.

Mei ran to the refrigerator. Those hands needed ice. The man needed food. She had to find a way to help. When she returned to the window, her tears fell. There sat the big proud man who had tried so hard to help her, his face buried against rock-solid forearms. Despite his skill and training, his wealth, or his prized possessions, he couldn’t do a thing to help a little girl stuck in a pit of an excuse for a foster home.

Her heart melted. She turned away. He would come in when he was ready.

The last thing any man needed was for a woman to see him cry.