Plot counterplot, p.18
Plot/Counterplot, page 18
No chance. She had work to do. If she ever hoped to see Dylan alive again.
She had almost opened the car door when she felt the barrel of a gun jab into her gut, just below her ribcage. “Don’t move.”
Leilani stiffened. The gun poked her where she’d been shot.
She whirled around. The dark-eyed man in the suit jabbed her even harder. “I told you not to move.”
Another taller man stood behind him, stoically surveying the situation. Somehow, his lack of expression was more alarming than the gunman’s aggressive attitude. “Let’s get her someplace private.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Leilani said. All the memories crashed down on her. The last time someone pointed a pistol at her. And the protracted horror that followed.
The gunman twisted her right arm behind her back, then shoved her forward. It hurt, but she was not going to let that show.
“Move.”
They pushed her between two large brick buildings. A minute later, the taller man opened a side door. They shoved her into a dark dusty room. There was only one window, up high, and it was so encrusted with dirt that almost no light crept through. The tall man locked the door behind them.
“What’s this about?” Leilani said, keeping panic at bay. “What are you going to do?”
The man with the gun shoved her back against the wall. “We’re going to finish the job our friends started.”
Chapter 36
Xavier tossed the makeup artist through the door. This shouldn’t take long, he thought. They only needed him for two days, once for dress rehearsal, once for the op itself. All Xavier had to do was convince the man that he had absolutely no choice.
Xavier had intentionally chosen to recruit Bakersfield at home, where his wife and daughter would be sleeping. As with Dylan Taggart, the persuasion process was much simpler when easily threatened loved ones were nearby.
He turned on a lamp and shoved Bakersfield onto the sofa. A photo of his wife rested on the end table. She had jet black hair and full lips. Very attractive. Almost Middle Eastern in appearance.
Xavier could see that Bakersfield soon would be asking questions. He didn’t give the man a chance. He wrapped his powerful hands around the man’s throat, choking off his words. “Your wife upstairs sleeping. Would be best if she not hear you. If she comes down, she never go up again.”
Bakersfield cowered into the cushions, a stricken expression on his face. He pursed his lips as if to form words. Xavier held up a finger. He stopped.
Xavier took a stack of printed digital photos out of his shirt pocket.
“This picture of wife at supermarket,” he said, slapping it down onto the coffee table. “Could have killed her there. No one could stop me.”
He pulled out another photo. “This picture of wife at gymnasium. Could have killed her then. Did not.”
Bakersfield’s eyes were cold blue sheets. He breathed in short quick bursts, probably on the verge of hyperventilating.
“This picture of wife undressing for shower. This picture of wife leaving shower.” He slapped down another. “This picture of wife removing makeup.” He tossed down the last photo. “Bitch brushes hair forever.”
Xavier leaned into the quaking figure on the sofa, hovering over him. “Wife upstairs now, sleeping. Wearing brown leopard-skin nightie. Needs someone to fulfill needs.” He leaned in closer till they were almost nose-to-nose. “Will it be you? Or me?”
Bakersfield spoke in barely a whisper. “What do you want?”
“Need you for job. Two days. Tomorrow we practice. Next day, we do for real.”
“They’re expecting me on the set tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow you will be sick. Doctor will call, say you have contagious flu. They won’t want you. Day after that is PFD. No filming. After that, you back, like nothing ever happen. And wife still alive. As long as you keep mouth shut.” This was a lie, of course. Xavier knew Mr. X would have Bakersfield killed when she was done using him. That was how it always worked with these recruited specialists. No one could be trusted to remain silent forever.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” Bakersfield said. “But I don’t see what I can—”
“Your job simple. Do what told.”
“Do I need...any equipment?”
“Makeup, prosthetics, latex, hairpiece. I have list. We go shopping later.”
“I’ll need to tell my wife something.”
“You leave note. Doctor will call in morning. You are quarantined for forty-eight hours.”
“Okay.” Bakersfield was sweating profusely. Xavier couldn’t help but compare him to Dylan Taggart. The writer had tried everything, had been defiant to the last. He was a rod of iron compared to this stick of butter. “I’ll do anything you say.”
“Good.” Xavier grabbed him by the throat and hoisted him off the sofa. “You will need—”
He stopped in mid-sentence.
Someone was coming down the stairs.
Xavier released Bakersfield, giving him a hard look that said in no uncertain terms that he should not speak.
The footsteps were shuffling. Slippers? Someone tiptoeing to avoid being heard?
Xavier reached inside his coat and withdrew his Sig Sauer. He pointed it toward the foot of the stairs and waited to see what emerged.
For once, even he was surprised.
“Daddy?”
The shuffling sound was not the result of houseshoes. It was the padded feet on her pajamas. The tiny blonde girl who stepped into the room could not be more than five years old.
“Daddy? What’s hap’ning?”
Xavier readjusted his aim. Directly at her head.
Chapter 37
Dylan spotted his target as she crossed from the gymnasium to the barracks where her sleeping quarters were located. She’d been swimming. Her hair was wet and dangling around her shoulders. She wore a clinging green cover-up over her suit.
This was his opportunity. Their keepers were waiting in the main building. Only the perimeter guards could see them, and they weren’t close enough to overhear.
He ran forward and touched her on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”
Her face was flushed and her eyes were red, not from swimming.
“I’m Dylan Taggart.”
She didn’t stop walking. “I know who you are.”
“And you’reMikala Meilani. I’d like to talk to you.”
Her upper lip curled. “Do I have any choice?”
He put out a hand to stop her. “Yes. But I’d appreciate the chance. Five minutes will be enough. Probably the most we’ll ever get without interruption or observation.”
Lani inhaled deeply, causing her ample chest to rise and fall. She was tall, appealingly curvy but still muscular, which didn’t surprise him. He’d seen how effectively she’d struggled with three security guards twice her size. She was no wimp. She was a beautiful woman, but her face was haggard, worn. She had not enjoyed her first week at the terrorist camp.
“All right,” she said. “Talk.”
Dylan took her arm and steered her to the north. “This way, please.” He knew where the security cameras were located so well he could position himself outside their ambit without even glancing upward, like an actor who’d learned to hit his mark without thinking consciously about it. “Let’s talk here. And please keep your voice down.”
A light rain trickled through the palm fronds. She removed her cover-up, then pulled a sweatshirt out of her gym bag and shrugged it over her shoulders. Dylan tried not to stare, but it took some effort.
She reminded him of Leilani.
“So just give me my orders already and let’s get on with it.”
“I don’t have any orders.”
“Are you going to beat me senseless?”
“Of course not.”
“Torture me? Threaten my relatives?”
“Lani, I’m a prisoner. Just like you.”
“Don’t try to kid me. You’re planning the whole operation.”
Is that what she thought? Is that what everyone here thought? That he was one of the terrorists? “That doesn’t mean I wanted to do it. I was brought here against my will.”
“I thought they never brought anyone here against their will. They just broke your will. They made it so you had no choice.”
“Yes, exactly. How did they get you?”
Lani peered into his eyes. “They went after my father. Killed his dog. Burned his crops. Sent someone out to beat him up and—and they used an—an—electric cattle prod on his—” Her voice choked.
“I’m sorry.” Dylan wanted to hold her but knew that would probably be a mistake. “I—” He retreated into passive voice. “There was a need for a decryption expert. An extremely talented one.”
“I know. I’m a private-sector security consultant, but I’ve handled many government contracts. I’ve developed programs that can override the best portal systems in the world.”
“You create the gizmos that make it possible to break into buildings with high-tech security systems?”
“I create the gizmos that make it possible to break into NORAD. The government funds projects at research facilities all across the country. One group of scientists constantly invents new and increasingly impenetrable security systems, while another constantly looks for ways to breach those impenetrable systems. There is no defense that can’t be compromised, eventually. The government knows this. It’s just a matter of time. So they hire me to figure out how to breach their systems before the Chinese do. Or the North Koreans.”
She turned away. He could see her eyes were watering. “I’d rather be working for the North Koreans than these bastards.”
He felt drawn to her. Was it because they both had been turned into puppets by these sick, manipulative monsters? Or was there something more? He had a sense that there were great depths to her, much more than was visible on the surface. The key question was how much he could trust her. “They did something similar to me. Attacked my girlfriend. Shot her. Tortured her. Threatened to—” He stopped short. “You don’t need all the details. We’re both prisoners.”
“Then why are you in charge?”
“Believe me, I am not in charge. They’re using me, just as they’re using you.”
“They seem to trust you.”
“They do not trust me. And they shouldn’t.” His voice dropped a notch. “There’s a way out of this. Out of here. And I plan to find it.”
“Why are you telling me this?
“Because I want your help. I need your help.”
“Why should I help you?”
“I won’t lie to you—what I’m planning is difficult, dangerous, and could well end with both of us dead.”
“You’re a really poor salesman.”
“But I think we might pull it off. We can thwart their plan—and escape in the process.”
“How do you know I’m not working with them? A mole.”
“You could be. But I don’t think so. I’ve been watching you carefully and I’m usually pretty good at reading people.”
“What is it you want me to do?”
“I need you to...overlook something. And then you’re going to drive the getaway vehicle. In a manner of speaking.”
“But you’ve already outlined your plan. I’ve read it.”
“Yes.” He glanced over his shoulder. They needed to start walking toward the main complex. If they delayed any longer, it would create suspicion. “But there are going to be a few plot twists they don’t anticipate.”
“You’re going to beat these people? I don’t see how that’s possible.”
He laid his hand firmly on her smooth shoulder. “As it happens, surprise endings are my specialty.”
Chapter 38
Leilani felt a flash of pain in her still-healing stomach wound, an aching reminder of what happened the last time she was on the dangerous end of a pointed gun. “What are you talking about? What friends? Finishing what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” the man with the gun said. His tall companion stood behind him, watching carefully but remaining silent. “Tell me everything you know. Starting with why you’re asking questions about Dr. Karelis.”
How did they know about that? The doctor took the listening device out of her head. Was it possible there was another one? Was there no escaping these people?
“I still don’t know what you want. Who’s Dr. Karelis?”
“Look, lady, we can do this nice, or we can do it the hard way. Your choice. Personally, I don’t care. We’re going to get what we want, either way.”
Because they always got what they wanted, didn’t they? Or so they thought. She had learned they sometimes made mistakes.
Her eyes scanned the room, searching for some means of escape, something she could use as a weapon. This appeared to be some sort of storage area. Lots of packing boxes and crates. No potential weapons. Certainly nothing that moved faster than a bullet.
“Stop the bull and start talking, lady.”
“Or what? You’ll rough me up? Maybe you’ll do that anyway, once we’re done talking. Because that’s what you do, isn’t it?”
She turned her head in disgust—and saw a large chrome box-end wrench resting on a crate about two feet to her left. Was it possible...?
One thing was damn sure. She wasn’t going down easy this time. She wasn’t letting these bastards rip her clothes off and torture her. Not without a fight.
The suit pushed the gun forward. “Last chance, lady. Why are you checking up on Karelis?”
Time to put on the frightened kitten look. “Please—Please don’t point that gun at me. Guns scare me.” A terrified expression on her face, she backed away from him—toward the wrench. “Don’t hurt me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Then start talking!”
“Of course I will. I’ll start with...this.” She grabbed the wrench and flung it toward him. Her aim was good. It hit his hand and knocked the gun away.
While he was reeling, she ran to the door. She knew it was locked so she didn’t waste time with the knob. She rammed her fist through the window. Shattered glass flew everywhere. She knocked away the remaining pieces that clung to the frame. Her arm was cut up, but she ignored that. Once she’d cleared enough space, she pushed her head and arms through the opening and tried to dive through.
Someone grabbed her feet.
She pressed her hands flat against the outer door, trying to stop the backward movement. She flexed her gym-girl arm muscles to the max. But she knew this was a losing battle. She couldn’t hold out forever—they could. There were two of them and they had more leverage. And the gun was still somewhere in that room.
She let go. They pulled her back into the room, her jaw narrowly missing the jagged glass in the door frame. She fell hands first onto the hard floor.
“That was a mistake,” the man said, shoving the gun into her face. “Now you’re going to pay for it.”
“Go to hell,” Leilani snarled. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the impact of another bullet.
There was no escaping. This would be the one that killed her.
* * *
“Daddy? I don’t unnerstand.”
“Don’t hurt her,” Bakersfield said, his voice pleading. “She’s only a child.”
Xavier stared down the sight of his gun. He had no choice here. Someone that young could never be trusted to keep quiet, no matter what he did or threatened. “She seen too much.”
“She won’t remember anything.”
“I cannot take chance.”
“Daddy? Who is this man?” Her eyes were wide as saucers, watery, confused. “Is he a bad man?”
Xavier’s finger tightened on the trigger.
“Please,” Bakersfield said. “I beg you. She’s my only child.”
“Wife young,” Xavier grunted. “Have more.”
“She can’t have any more.” Bakersfield’s voice cracked. He fell to his knees before Xavier, his hands clasped as if he were at an altar begging for absolution. “Let her go back to bed. She’ll think it was all a bad dream.”
“Daddy?” The girl moved toward her father.
Xavier’s arm stiffened. “Stop!” The padded feet ceased shuffling.
But he had spoken too loudly. Now he heard more rustling upstairs. From the wife’s bedroom.
This operation was rapidly spiraling out of control. Now he regretted his decision not to bring Marco. He was preparing for the operation and Xavier thought he wouldn’t need him. But he knew he couldn’t effectively control three people.
He would have to eliminate the two expendable people in the house, the two potential witnesses.
He retargeted the little girl, squinting his left eye. His hand trembled. He tensed his arm muscles, forcing it to steady.
“Jesus God, man,” Bakersfield whispered. “Don’t do it.”
“No choice,” Xavier grunted. Bakersfield grabbed his targeting arm, but Xavier shoved him away.
“Daddy? Are you okay?”
Xavier’s nostrils flared. He breathed in short, quick, bursts. Pull the damn trigger already!
Before he could, Bakersfield stepped into the line of fire. “I can’t let you do this.”
“Move or I kill both.”
“I don’t think so. You want me to do something for you. She’s expendable, I’m not. And I don’t think you have time to find anyone else. So put the gun down or your mission is a failure.”
Xavier whipped the gun against the side of Bakersfield’s head. Blood spurted out. But he did not budge.
“Move!” Xavier barked.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then I knock you down.”
“I know you don’t want to do this horrible thing. So don’t.”
“I have no choice!”
“Daddy?” Tears seeped from the tiny girl’s eyes. “Is that a gun? A real one? Why is that man in our home?”
