CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Second stood on a perch higher up the mountainside, watching through his binoculars as the four figures disappeared into the forest. He swallowed against the dryness in his throat and licked his parched lips while his brain processed what he just witnessed his boss’s son do.
Max Madden really did have telekinetic powers. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it for himself. The night of DeMateo’s death had been a flurry of bullets and explosions that had left him unable to positively recollect exactly how the events had unfolded. But what he had attributed to a concussion and chaos had been real. Max possessed the power to manipulate molecules.
And his father had absolutely no idea.
Hmmm. The Second stroked his chin. Withholding this bit of information could go very well in his favor, or end in horrible disaster.
A speculative grin curled his lips as he locked the knowledge away in his mind. He didn’t get to where he was in the organization without taking a few risks.
With the decision made to keep this little nugget of information to himself, the tension in his shoulders eased and a swagger stole into his step as he strode back to the warehouse.
The junior Madden being in this neck of the woods was not a coincidence, and he’d be a fool not to suspect that the brat was up to something. After having witnessed Max’s powers, who knew what Junior would be able to do to their mountain stronghold. There were too many variables where the boy was concerned, starting with who were those people with him and how much of the operation had they seen.
Soldier 1032 approached him when he returned to his men. “Sir, the avalanche has blocked several of our exits.”
The Second raised a finger to his lips, then to his ear, signaling silence, before turning an assessing eye to the men working around him.
These soldiers, all of who were smuggled into the country, had been plucked from hostile environments around the world. Stripped of their names and identities, they were mercenaries, pirates, warriors trained to use their bodies as weapons. But how would they fare against the mental powerhouse that was Max Madden? Would these men’s ability to mindlessly follow orders and the poor strategic skills of Matthew Madden be the weakness that tumbled their grand scheme like a house of cards? Of that, The Second was positive. Fuck all. Apparently he did have to do everything.
With a sharp whistle, he held up his hand and gestured for the entire group to fall silent. In seconds, all work stopped as the men turned toward him with interest.
He sidestepped over to a set of small cases stacked to his right. Selecting one, he set it on top of a taller crate and popped open the lid. Nestled inside were three silver objects shaped like small traffic cones. He pulled one out and closed the case. Setting the timer on the bottom, he placed it in the center of the room. A faint beep sounded before a red laser flashed out of the tip, sending out a magnetic blast that shorted every object with an electrical component in the warehouse. Over the top? Yes. But it was best to err on the side of caution.
He raised his hand to quell the exclamations that burst from the men over losing their communications equipment.
“Gentlemen, our position has been compromised. Everything needs to be reloaded and sent to Delta section, including the barracks. Nothing is to be left behind. Replacement equipment will be issued once the new location has been secured. Move out. Now.”
“Everything, señor?” 1032 asked.
His right eye twitched at being questioned. “Everything. 1096, 1097,” he called for his demolition team. “The moment that the last man and piece of equipment is cleared, close off every point of entrance. Be mindful of how much explosive you use. The last thing we need is the university’s seismology department rooting around here as well.”
“But señor,” 1032 interrupted. “Señor Madden instructed—”
The Second’s fist shot out to connect to the subordinate’s jaw with a wicked crack. He bit back a grunt and was thankful that the goggles hid his wince as his hand went numb and pain traveled up his arm. Maintaining authority was imperative at this stage of the game.
“Mr. Madden doesn’t know all of the facts. I’m in charge of this operation. An operation that is now in jeopardy because you didn’t follow the simple commandment of thou shall not dump the body in thine own backyard. If you have an issue with my leadership, I will deliver you to the immigration authorities myself, in a body bag. Any questions?”
1032 paled under his tan skin. “No, señor.”
“You have two hours, gentlemen. Move it.”
* * *
In October, twilight arrived early in the Northwest, turning the sky a deep purple that matched the somber and dreary mood of base camp. The sullen faces of the few remaining volunteers, and the sobs from Jeremy Monroe’s family, compounded the ache in Crystal’s chest. Between the murdered victim, the avalanche, and the breakdown in the team, the day had been a disaster rivaling the Titanic.
“Oh, crap,” Doc muttered next to her. “Here comes Boudreaux.”
And the fun continued.
Boudreaux stalked across the gravel, his cronies forming a flock of fowl behind him. His brow was drawn in such a fierce scowl that his eyebrows formed a furry awning over his blazing eyes. His teeth were clenched so tight together, Crystal wouldn’t have been surprised if they had ground down to nubs.
Behind her, Max stood strong and silent. An emotionless mask had settled on his features, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking.
One thing she was certain of was if either man made a smart-ass remark about that stupid bet, she was going to kick them in the nuts. She had had it up to her knit cap with the Y chromosome set.
“I see you finally made it back.” A smug smile tugged at Max’s lip.
The older man leaned forward and sneered. “No one survives an avalanche without a scratch, and how did you find the body so fast? What’s your game? There is something unnatural about you. I don’t know what, but I will find out.”
“Great. In the meantime, I’ll be having a beer.”
Boudreaux took a step closer. “Why was it so important to you to find the kid first? Did you think that it would earn you favors from the punk’s family or the police? Or were you afraid that your girl here would leave you once you failed?”
“That’s it,” Crystal snapped. How dare he trivialize the life and death of an innocent man? “You fucking asshole.”
She leapt for the bastard with fingers curled into claws and red clouding her vision. What she would do to him once she made contact, she hadn’t a clue and frankly didn’t care. But she wanted the man to hurt on the outside as much as she did on the inside.
Max caught her around the waist and pulled her tight against his side. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. His hand stroked down her back. “I know. As much as I’d love to see you rip him a new one, I don’t want you to get your hands dirty on this piece of trash.”
Max kept his arm securely around her and turned back to Boudreaux. “I can only guess that you would say such insensitive, asinine things because you have been fortunate enough not to have such a tragedy touch your own life. I know that if one of your children had been found in the bloody, crumpled condition we found that young man in, you wouldn’t be so quick to be an ass. Although I doubt that.”
Crystal blinked back the tears in her eyes and leaned against Max. So he had given some thought about all that was lost on that hillside. That didn’t remove him from her shit list, but it did lessen her anger. Slightly.
Max held his hand out, palm up. “I believe money was discussed earlier. I can let it slide if it will put a crimp in your finances.”
Boudreaux bit off his curse and reached for his backpack. His solid gold pen shimmered in the rising moonlight as he opened his checkbook and began writing. “Who do I make it out to? I’m sure you have a real name, Garan.”
“Just leave that part blank.”
The other man ripped off the check and stretched out his hand. The paper vibrated in his outraged grip. “I’ll be watching you.”
“Thanks for the warning. I’ll be sure to wear something nice.”
“Motherfucker,” Boudreaux muttered and turned on the toe of his expensive hiking boots and stomped away.
“What is up with that man?” Doc asked.
Crystal sighed. “Classic case of making himself feel better by belittling others. His ex-wife is harassing him for more alimony and his kids are a disappointment.”
“Did you get all of that by reading him?”
“Hell no,” she said with a snort. That would require touching him. “I overheard him on his cell phone during the last search and rescue.”
Lancaster cut across the lot toward them and held out his hand to Max. “Garan, everyone. Are you sure you’re all okay? The pilot said that avalanche looked like it was heading right for you.”
“We’re fine. It wasn’t as bad as it appeared, although it was plenty close enough. I’m sorry we were too late to save Monroe.”
“You tried your best, which is all I can ask.” He removed his hat to rub his palm over his short blond hair and shook his head. “I don’t know how you all do it, but I’m grateful for the work you’ve done. If only you could be so efficient with all of my missing-person cases,” he joked.
“Actually,” Max drawled, “I could have my team take a look, do a little consulting, if that’s all right with you. We’re very good at thinking outside the box.” He handed Lancaster a jet-black business card he pulled from his jacket pocket. A phone number and the word security in big white letters was all of the information the card entailed.
Lancaster twirled the card around twice, the muscles in his jaw twitching as his eyes narrowed with contemplation. “I just may do that.”
“Anytime. We’d like to help where we can.”
The sheriff nodded and left, his gaze still focused on the card in his big hand.
“Excuse me.”
Crystal turned to see Jeremy Monroe’s mother standing a few feet away. Her blonde and gray curls shook with each shuddering breath as she struggled to rein in her tears.
“Thank you. Thank you for helping my boy.”
“Oh, Mrs. Monroe.” Crystal choked as her heart lodged in her throat. “Please, we didn’t do anything. All we did was find him.”
“I know. But at least now we know what happened to him and can give him a proper good-bye.” She wiped her gloved hand at the wetness on her cheeks. “It was the waiting that was so terrible, and you all ended that. Thank you.”
Words failed Crystal. At least aloud. Inside, she wanted to tell this woman that her son died for nothing. That he had been murdered and the ones responsible were alive and well, plotting the downfall of others.
Yeah. And what good would that knowledge do for Mrs. Monroe? Why compound the pain of a mother who could not avenge her child? That was Crystal’s job, it was why she was created. Nothing was more important than helping those who couldn’t help themselves.
“Mrs. Monroe.” Crystal lifted her sunglasses to look the woman in the eye. “My mother was killed years ago and not a day goes by that I wonder if there wasn’t some way I could have prevented it. The guilt of surviving is crushing, and there will be days when you can’t see the light. When you doubt even the existence of light.” She reached out and took Mrs. Monroe’s wool-covered hand. “But you have to remember that there is a light. Jeremy was with friends and he was loved. That’s all we can ask for in life.”
The older woman’s gray eyes filled with more tears but also understanding. She squeezed Crystal’s hand, words she was unable to express caught behind her trembling lips.
Max held out Boudreaux’s check. “Some of us started a collection. It’s not much, but it should help out with some of your expenses.”
Her mouth fell open on a silent gasp. “Is this for real?”
“Yes, ma’am. If you have any trouble, or need anything at all, contact Sheriff Lancaster. He’ll know how to reach us.”
She looked as if she’d argue, but then threw her arms around Max’s shoulders and gripped him tight. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Well, you’re welcome.” Max stood stock still, his arms hanging loose by his sides as he looked toward them for help. When none came, he raised his hands to pat her back with awkward taps. “Don’t remember this as the day Jeremy died, but as a day that he had lived.”
Mrs. Monroe nodded. “I don’t care how weird people say you are. I think you’re all angels.” With a pat on Ripley’s head, she stumbled to the car that was waiting for her.
Crystal sighed, her eyes drifting shut as the turmoil of the day wound down. Her legs trembled from a combination of physical exertion and crashing adrenaline. A hot bath topped her to-do list the moment she returned home. The image was so strong in her mind, she actually felt the heat rising from the water to slide up her back.
Nope. It wasn’t a dream. The warmth came from Max, who wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug.
He brushed a finger down her check and under her chin. “We’ll do better the next time.”
Right. Next time. If the afternoon taught her anything, it was that the world was just as dangerous as it was the day before. Maybe even more so.
Resolve straightened her spine and she gave him a curt nod. “Damn straight.”
A touch of sin curled his lips into the sexiest smile. “After I go over the footage from the mission, how about you and I spend some quality time in a nice hot bath?”
“Oh my God,” she groaned and shoved against his chest. Now he was invading her fantasies, too? “Absolutely not.”
He tightened his hold as she tried to pull away. The laser-like bead of his troubled gaze burned her through his dark lenses. “Why do you fight me? I just want to be with you.”
“Your impulsive actions put the team in jeopardy. You promised that we were in this together, and at the first opportunity you risked our safety and the mission.”
“You’re right.”
“And another thing—Wait, what?” The head of steam she was gathering dissipated in confusion. “What did you say?”
He smiled with contrition and resumed stroking her cheek. “You’re right. I risked the team. I risked you. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.”
Great, just great. How could she ream him out when he gazed at her with such sincerity? “Well, you should be sorry.”
He moved his thumb to caress her lips. “Crystal, we needed those details on Madden’s hideout. Every scrap of evidence we gather can be used to save millions of lives. I’m sorry that I leapt before I looked, but I don’t regret doing it. I promise that I will be more careful in the future. Count on it.”
Her lips tingled as he continued his soft touches. In her soul, a battle between her wants versus her needs waged for supremacy. She wanted to kiss away the frown from his lips and rediscover his taste, but she needed to remain aloof and professional. Giving in now would feel so good—now. Tomorrow, she might live to regret it.
“We should be getting back to headquarters.” The rasp in her voice betrayed the cool unaffected tone she strove for.
His nostrils flared with exasperation. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything. We have work to do. Let’s leave it at that.”
This time when she pulled away, he let her go. “You are afraid. I don’t know what of, but you know you can trust me.”
“Can I? After today, I don’t know.”