They left him alone for a long time. Far too long to spend surrounded by all the mess of the past fifteen months.
Valadian was spot on. He was a fool. Those words kept cycling back to the front of his thoughts, alternating with the memory of those kisses.
It shouldn’t infuriate him. Jack had absolutely no claim on Blade. Didn’t want one, either. They’d fucked; that was all. Blade had gone along with it out of a sense of duty to his job. Jack had simply taken an opportunity, nothing more. They hadn’t kissed.
Kisses were like hands. Revealing, expressive, intimate—and, also like hands, most people didn’t see how powerful a kiss could be. Several of Jack’s partners had joked about his refusal to kiss their lips, likening it to stories of hookers who wouldn’t kiss their johns. Jack couldn’t disagree. Fucking was just genitals banging together. In mind-bendingly brilliant ways, yes, but that wasn’t love.
Love grew out of hearts and minds, and those things were most eloquently, most purely, expressed with the lips. In the words a person spoke to show their thoughts, their opinions, their feelings; the way they smiled or pouted or grimaced; the subtle touch of a tongue to a lower lip; downturned at the corners often more expressive than a gesture or walkaway; a bitten lip to keep in a throaty groan. The mouth was the most intimate part of a person and, as with hands, the least guarded.
Seeing Valadian kiss Blade, seeing Blade kiss him back, twisted Jack’s guts into irrational knots. Not everyone felt as he did. Very few people did, in fact. People would kiss before they’d fuck. Knowing his reaction was unreasonable didn’t stop Jack from seething over it, though.
So when Blade slid into the room, Jack hissed and redoubled his efforts against the restraints.
“You fucking bastard,” Jack snapped. “I’m going to kill you. I really am.”
Blade had that blank look on his face again. He reached to the back of his waistband and drew one of his Desert Eagles. Calmly, he removed the clip, ejected the chambered round, and inserted a single bullet from his pocket. Then he levelled the gun on Jack.
Jack went still. “You’re really going to do it, aren’t you.”
So this was how they’d wipe out the information in Jack’s head. At least it would take all the bad memories with it.
Except Jack wasn’t done. Fifteen months of living in the snake pit, of letting them wind around him and drag him down, and it couldn’t all be for nothing. He had to try.
“Blade, don’t do this. If this is because of last night, I’m so—”
“Shut up.”
“No. I want to—”
“Shut up.”
“Screw you—”
Blade glared. “Shut up.”
Jack saw it that time. The finger along the side of the gun’s barrel tapped the silky steel.
Oh.
Understanding lasted about as long as it took to blink.
Blade adjusted his aim and fired.
Pain exploded in Jack’s chest, dead centre. He was rocked back so hard the chair tilted alarmingly. He saw the white ceiling blur and grow dark, the sheer agony in his body stretching the seconds out into hours. Time was relative, Dad used to say. The cloud of black grew and grew until it swallowed him whole . . .
Coming to this time wasn’t so pleasant. His whole body hurt as if he’d gone ten rounds sans gloves. He felt pummelled and broken, every nerve end throbbing. Pain jolted through him as if he was . . . being carried, fireman style, at a steady jog.
“Stay still,” that poncy accent murmured as Jack moved experimentally.
“I will if you will.” But somehow he didn’t think the words managed to leave his head, because Blade didn’t respond to them. Just kept jouncing along as if he hadn’t caved in Jack’s chest with a bullet.
“Hey!” someone called from behind them.
Blade slammed to a sudden halt, jarring Jack even more in his uncomfortable position.
“What are you doing back here?” The tone had the cadence of command about it. One of Valadian’s officers, probably. “Everyone’s supposed to be in the main yard.”
“Sorry, sir,” Blade said, turning slowly. He’d lost his British accent and sounded so perfectly Australian Jack almost coughed in surprise. Lucky he didn’t, because Blade added, “I’m just disposing of the spy’s body, as per The Man’s orders.”
“Oh, shit,” a new voice said. “That’s him. Valadian’s weird pet killer.”
“What? No, he’s a Pom and he’s out—”
The guy never got to finish. With a startled grunt, Jack was dropped to the ground. He tried to roll when he hit, but the burst of pain across his chest pretty much collapsed him in on himself where he landed.
Blade was already moving, silent and deadly as he lunged into the midst of the soldiers. There were more than two of them, that was for sure, because Jack heard the distinct thumps of two bodies hitting the ground in quick succession, and yet the yelps, grunts, and shouts continued.
Forcing himself to move, Jack uncurled and shoved to his hands and knees. His chest hurt like a mule had kicked him. When he blinked his eyes into focus, he found the fight moving away from him. Blade’s fluid shape and style was easy to find in the mess of bodies and flying limbs. He had three opponents. Two more lay in the dirt, not far from Jack. Valadian’s troops usually moved in groups of six.
A knife blade slid across Jack’s throat, not hard enough to cut, but so close to it Jack stopped breathing altogether. His captor’s other hand fisted in the back of Jack’s abused shirt and hauled him back onto his knees, the knife never moving from his neck.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” the man hissed. “The white-eyed freak was supposed to kill you.”
Jack lifted his hands, fingers spread, to show he had no weapon. “The work ethic of assassins these days, huh?”
As he spoke, Jack grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the knife to his throat and pulled it down, locking the man’s arm in place on his shoulder. Jack bit his hand. Hard. While he was distracted, Jack scrambled around the man, one forearm across his shoulders, forcing him to the ground, the other twisting the wrist of his knife hand until it gave up the weapon. Jack snatched it before it hit the ground and acted without thought.
Blade found him there, still crouched over the dead man, knife protruding from between his shoulders. The assassin took it in with a swift glance, then motioned for Jack to get up.
“We should hurry. I took care of the rest of them, but there may be another patrol through here soon.”
The ache in Jack’s chest wasn’t just from the bullet anymore, but he heaved himself to his feet and trotted after Blade.
Around them, the world was turning to a lovely, soft bronze colour, pre-dawn in the desert. It was still cold, though, the warmth of exertion cooling rapidly. From somewhere ahead, a cow moaned irritably.
“The cattle pen?”
“No one’s here,” Blade answered.
“For now.” Jack sagged against a railing. Adrenaline waned, letting the pain return. He sank to the ground, wincing as the motion pulled on his chest.
“Are you all right?” Blade crouched in front of him.
“What do you think? You shot me, you mongrel.” He gritted the words out between pain-locked jaws.
“Only with a needle-tipped rubber bullet full of enough tranquiliser to knock you out fast.”
“Tranquiliser?” Jack rubbed his chest, hissing at the depth and breadth of the sore spot.
“I couldn’t very well have you waking up after I killed you.” He peered into Jack’s eyes. “I am sorry.”
“For which bit? Betraying me, beating the shit out of me, or shooting me?” Or kissing Valadian?
“All of it.” He sat back on his heels. “It’s far too complicated to explain now.”
“Try.” Jack shifted and sat against a fence post. Behind him, cows rustled and farted. “And as you do, remember I’m only not strangling you because of crippling pain.”
A corner of Blade’s mouth turned up, then sank down as he took a deep breath. “All right. Condensed version. I was employed by an anonymous third party to not only kill Valadian, but also discover how he’d managed to slide under so many radars for so long. My initial search led me to believe there is someone, or a group, protecting him.”
Jack made to protest, but Blade carried on.
“It makes sense, Jack. Valadian’s been gathering troops and armaments for years. He’s been looked at by various government agencies several times, and never charged with anything. Someone has been deflecting those investigations. Either one of Valadian’s more powerful partners . . . or, more likely, someone from the inside.”
Talking over him, Jack said, “You only think that because you have issues with bureaucracy and governments.”
“I swear, Jack, it’s true. I don’t know who it is, or where they are, but it’s the only explanation.”
“All right, if someone’s protecting him, why was I sent in?”
“Precisely. Why? My first thought was you were sent in as an added layer of protection for Valadian. Someone he wasn’t aware of who could look out for other spies and eliminate them quietly. Why else would a decorated SAS soldier be sent in as a general thug, when inserting you in the military side of things would have allowed you to rise through the ranks much quicker?”
Things were falling into place at long bloody last. As much as Jack hated to admit it, it made sense. Valadian’s operation here had been too well established when Jack arrived, too entrenched, and The Man himself seemingly very confident of his secrecy.
“So, you staged the whole torture-shack scenario as what? The longest, most complicated trust exercise in the world?”
Understanding didn’t make it any easier to take. He’d been used. Tricked, manipulated, betrayed. Everything Blade had said and done in the desert had been a lie, aimed to discover if Jack was on the level or not.
“In a sense, yes.” Either Blade wasn’t aware of what was coming or he didn’t care. “If I put you in a position where you believed I was going to kill Valadian, and then made myself vulnerable to you, you would expose your true purpose in being here.”
“And did I?” Jack’s hand curled into a fist at his side.
“Yes, Jack, you did. You didn’t try to kill me. I know you’re not protecting Val—”
Jack hit him. Punched him as hard as he could. Given that he was propped against the fence, aching abysmally across the chest, it wasn’t as hard as he could have otherwise managed, but it rocked Blade off his feet.
Tumbling to his arse in the dust, Blade didn’t retaliate. He just sat there, a smear of blood on the corner of his mouth, which sat open in shock.
“That’s for betraying me.” Jack shook out his hand. “You could have told me all this before we went into the compound.”
Gingerly, Blade touched the corner of his mouth, then frowned at the blood on his fingertip. “I could have, but I still needed to discover who the protector was. My best bet was to see if Valadian would let it slip while talking to you. It would have been much more difficult if you were fully aware of everything. Sadly, the gambit didn’t pay off. I know he didn’t tell you. I watched the video feed while he was talking to you.”
Which meant Blade had seen Jack go mental about the kiss and the fucking. Hopefully he didn’t see the blush roaring up Jack’s neck and cheeks.
He laughed, part in shame, part to deny it, but it hurt, so he stopped and settled for shoving at Blade with his boot. “That’s all I am. Part of a job. It was all a lie. Everything you said and did. Just an act to suck me in.”
Blade pulled in a deep breath, then another. “At first, yes. I needed you to think I trusted you enough to allow myself to be vulnerable around you. And then I started to like you.”
“Like me?” Jack couldn’t keep the derision from his tone. “Why? I think we can rule out the fuck, because you didn’t really like that, did you?”
“Half right, Jack,” Blade whispered. “It was before that night, yes. Why? Because you treated me like I was a person, not something to be scared of.”
“I was plenty scared.”
“Scared or not, it didn’t stop you arguing with me or telling me how you truly felt. Most people, when they hear the name Ethan Blade, clam up out of fear. They don’t want to upset me or provoke me. You didn’t do that, and it felt . . . good.”
Jack looked away. Damn it. “Yeah, well, it’s hard to keep quiet when someone has a pet camel. That shit just has to be acknowledged.”
“And you make me laugh, Jack.” Case in point, the chuckle under the words.
Shaking off the moment, Jack scowled. “So, what next? You’re not going to betray me again, are you?”
“No, Jack. Never again.” There was an aching honesty in the words. “Now, we have to get you out of here before Valadian discovers I haven’t done as he asked.” He stood and offered a hand to Jack.
Jack contemplated the hand for a long moment, then took it. Blade helped him up.
“You’ve screwed up your own cover now, haven’t you.” Jack said softly. “Getting me out. Taking down that patrol.”
Blade shrugged. “It was time. Valadian dies today.”
“About fucking time.”