Chapter 78

 

 

0804 hrs.

 

The sound of the fired gun resonated in the trees as perched birds took flight at the sound of the shot. Lascar glanced down. The boat belt stood bare. Lascar’s bullet had hit Ridge slicing his neck.

Mason’s gun went off with sudden discharge and ripped into Kane’s chest. The two assailants plunged to the wet ground, still gripping their weapons tightly as their lives expired with the two shots.

Lascar shot Mason a terrified look. He’d never missed a shot in his life at such close range. Both men turned their eyes to where Calla had been detained on the railroad crossing.

Not a sound.

Not a movement.

Empty.

The cords lay at the foot of the lighthouse.

Stan, Nicole and Dena waited at one end of the empty harbor, their questioning glances bared. For several seconds, Lascar and Mason gawked at each other their faces masked with bewilderment.

In one abrupt movement, they raised their guns at one another, terror streaking their eyes.

 

A slam from above caught Lascar in the neck and he plunged to the ground.

Nash stood behind him.

Lascar swiveled and collapsed to the ground gripping his injured neck, his eyes questioning the last few seconds.

“Ever wonder what a blind spot is, Lascar?” Nash said grunting as he spoke.

Lascar’s eyes told Nash he had no words. Nash drew in a tight breath. “That’s when a soldier takes his eye off the target.”

Calla stepped forward. “That would be me–the target. You scoundrels paid too much attention to the previews, you missed the movie. It took me two seconds to break free from your pathetic restraints.” She swiveled to face Mason. “Oh, and remember Spain? I now know why I could resist your pathetic attempt at hypnotism.”

Mason observed Calla as she shot in front of him. He took a step back as she inched closer, a fighting confidence in her face.

He raised his hand to strike.

It stopped midair, as if an invisible force had restrained it.

He went in for another punch.

That too remained in the air.

Mason gravitated back, hands raised until he was up against the same ladder Calla had been strapped to.

With the charge of electricity revitalizing her operative genes, the energy gave her the confidence to face the truth she’d been trying to avoid. She was telepathic, exactly like her impaired opponent, only she could read his mind, before he could register his own thoughts. His weakness at processing human emotion was her strength at channeling human behavior.

She’d read his mind and broken his blows midair before he could advance. Mason had used the same methods in his cell with his victims. He’d been blinded by ambition and failed to draw and route strength from them.

Nash had been right. Always use the attacker’s strength against them, whatever that strength is.

Only minutes earlier, she’d read Lascar’s mind and willed him to fire his rage at their assailants–Ridge, then Mason’s own fury had turned on Kane. She’d controlled the criminal’s mind as easily as he’d manipulated those of his victims, with the same abilities they shared, genes fashioned for decades, possibly centuries from the same operative technology science.

Calla sidled her boots over the wet, uneven ground, her eyes fixed into Mason. The more he resisted the stronger her telepathic ability.

No words were spoken, but Mason heard the words as clearly, as if they’d been audible.

“Not as easy when you are on the other side. I’m just as telepathic as you, only mine surfaces in heightened danger situations. This one’s for stealing my parents from me.”

She swung her leg into a roundhouse thud that landed in his out-thrust chest.

“This one’s for global technology systems, which from now on will be protected by me.”

A knee to the groin.

Mason shot up, coughing and gripping his agonized wounds.

“This one’s for Veda.”

A third strike hit Mason in the jaw.

“This one Mason is for wasting my time!”

Another strike to the groin.

“And lastly, Mason, the worst thing you could have ever done . . .”

Her lips had not moved once, yet he could hear the words she related. “This one is for going after the man I love.”

The last thud jolted Mason back like a bolt of current. He landed on the concrete and watched as she moved toward him. The pain from her vengeful strikes singed like fire. He couldn’t see, or think straight. His hands were on his temple. The agony made him surrender a pained yelp.

“Enough! Just finish me off.” Mason felt round for his gun and handed it to her slowly. He couldn’t will his brain to pull the trigger. Death would be easier than a maimed mind. The mind is where life begins. Without it, he would be nothing.

She eased the weapon from his hands and directed it at his chest.

Her other hand reached in her pocket and she made a phone call. “Reiner, send the men through.”

Mason barked out in pain. “Please, Cress!”

Was this the torture he’d put his victims through? The thudding of boots signaled the arrival of the ISTF tactics team and the operatives. Some stopped to attend to Stan, Nicole and Dena, and one army paramedic advanced toward Nash’s side. Three operatives restrained Lascar.

She turned her attention back to Mason. “Death is too easy for you. You need a real sting. Now that I have the coordinates from the caves of your mind to reverse the hack I can proceed.”

Calla called Jack on her SWAT radio. “Yes, Jack, here are the coordinates.” She proceeded with the code as Jack crossed the tiny harbor, with his phone to his ear and his fingers flashing over his tablet. “Those will reverse the hack program, and by the way, he was hiding a lock in his brain, one that would make further attacks irreversible. Here are the coordinates for that.”

Calla clipped off her phone, her gun still aimed at Mason’s brow. Reiner joined her as she hovered over her enemy, digging the gun into his skin. She suddenly withdrew and handed Reiner the pistol. “Here you go, Reiner. I don’t do guns.”

 

The rain stopped as the clouds cleared and the sun peered through the glistening palm trees surrounding the harbor. Calla stepped away from Mason as he lay cowering on the ground. Reiner and several men bound him for transportation.

She hurried to Nash’s side to check on his injuries. When she reached him, her eyes met his. She opened her lips to speak. Nash placed a gentle finger over her lips. “No words.” He gently eased off his bulletproof vest as if it constricted his breathing.

Jack advanced toward them. “The systems are back. I was just on the phone with ISTF headquarters. We have to communicate with the affected parties.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Calla said.

“No, thanks to the team. We do what we do best—when we stick together.” He winked and settled a kiss on her forehead before turning to his wounded friend.

Nash let out a weak smile as pain agonized his thigh. His eyes suddenly narrowed into alarm.

Calla followed his stare.

A weak Mason, barely responsive freed his right hand, reached for the poison dart he’d held over Nicole only hours earlier, and drew it from his army vest. He raised the dart to his lips and prepared to send it sizzling toward Calla’s chest.

Nash seized the gun from Jack’s holster in one sudden movement, but before he could release a bullet, a shot fired from one of the ISTF tactic team members.

Mason plunged backward with the force of the charged bullet.

Then . . . stillness.

They watched him roll to his side. Then as silence seized the harbor, he breathed his last.

Calla marched toward the SWAT member. “I said we wanted him alive.”

The agent dragged off her helmet and goggles. Hair flung out as the woman behind the headgear stared at the still body of Mason Laskfell.

Margot Arlington strode to the lifeless frame of the man she once loved. “This makes us even, Mason.” Her voice trailed with vengeance.

Margot suddenly turned her head toward Nash, leveled her aim once more and fired a bullet to his front. She dropped the gun at her feet. “That, marine, is for disobeying orders.”

 

 

 

LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM

72 HOURS LATER

 

He opened his eyes and studied the ceiling. It did not look familiar. Nash searched his surroundings. His eyes fell on her. Calla slept in a chair, with a wool blanket over her. He glanced out the window. Predawn light hit his face and from the view of the Shard skyscraper in the distance, the disproportionate rooftops of London greeted his groggy eyes. He was in a hospital room of some sort and from the pain in his neck and thigh, he must have sustained colossal injuries.

Nash had rarely been in hospitals as a patient, even when he’d been in the military. Then it came to memory. The way he’d fought Lascar, an operative with possibly twice his strength, and how Ridge and Kane had slammed him in the shoulder bone and rib cage.

And then the boat. Mason had been there and Arlington as well.

Nash raised a gauzed hand to his tender jaw and realized he wore a pair of his own pajamas–just the bottoms. A patch monitoring his vitals had been placed on his chest. He followed the length of the cords and caught sight of a screen indicating his critical health signs were sound.

How long had he been here?

Calla stirred and her hair unfastened, covering half her exquisite face. She had two plasters on her wrists, and one just below her left eye. As if sensing his stare, her eyes opened and caught his. Relief struck her face, curling her lips into a welcoming smile. She sprang up and ambled to him taking a seat in the chair next to his bed. “Nash, you’re awake.”

His throat was dry. It must’ve been the central heating that parched him. Or was it medication? Instinctively, Calla reached for some water and raised the glass to his lips. He let the cool stream flow down his thirsting throat.

“Where am I?” Nash said.

“In a private military hospital near London Bridge. With ISTF special services on watch.”

“Was that your doing?”

“Yes.” She managed a tired smile. “How do you feel?”

He slowly sat up and watched her carefully. “I’ll live.”

She smiled and edged closer, her eyes deciphering volumes, yet the words wedged in her throat. What’s she trying to say?

His hand ran down the side of the bed, until it found hers. Hushed creaking at the door startled them. The door opened and a cheerful nurse minced in with a tray of breakfast, smoked salmon, eggs Benedict, Muesli, fresh mango, kiwi slices and low-fat yogurt. “Well . . . well, looks like you’ve resurfaced special agent. You took quite a hit and have been asleep for close to three days.”

Nash shot her a glance. “Three days?”

“Yes, sir. But you’ve been in good hands. This young lady has been here every hour but one, when she went to your house to collect some personal items. She’s been looking after you herself. Shaving you in the mornings, personally selecting your diet and food items and administering the tube feeds herself when necessary. Making sure your room was secure. I wasn’t allowed to feed you. She took care of you on her own. Your own personal nurse.”

Calla ran a nervous hand through her hair as she watched the nurse set the breakfast tray down and check the machines.

“You seem fine and can perhaps have this tray yourself. I’d brought it in for your nurse here,” the nurse said to Nash.

Nash glanced over at Calla, his drugged eyes softening. No one’s ever done that for me. Not even my own family.

He let a pang of guilt shoot through him for a second followed by admiration for Calla. The nurse left with a promise to bring in another tray. Calla took the tray and hoisted herself against the edge of the bed. In silence, she set a fork through the mango portion, slit it in half and brought the fresh fruit to Nash’s lips. He took a bite and chewed it down. She repeated the gesture in silence until half the tray was almost consumed. Nash’s eyes never left her once. He reached for her feeding hand.

Calla set the tray on the bed rest as Nash pulled her close to him and his hand caressed her flushed cheek, before brushing a gentle kiss across her forehead. Several seconds later, she pulled away. She paused looking into his eyes. “Nash, I almost lost you, in Cyprus.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I’m also so sorry about China and how we left things. You’ve always put me ahead of yourself and taught me some incredible lessons. I was selfish and unfair to you, unintentionally. I’m sorry.” She raised her eyes to his. “Nash, I love you. You come first . . . above everything.”

He stroked her hair. “I couldn’t leave you in Gibraltar, even when it hurt the most. I had to find my way back to you.”

“You saved my life, Nash, more than once and brought my family back together. I can’t do life without you.”

“Where’s your family?”

“My mother is with my father in the Costwolds. After thirty years, my mother is trying to make sense of her life. They need to work out so many things. They have to start over . . . getting to know each other again.”

“It can take a lifetime.”

“Nash how do you feel? After you were shot three days ago, the paramedics gave up, almost pronouncing you gone by the time you arrived here.”

“Nash rubbed a hand on his sore chest recalling the shot from Arlington’s pistol. “What happened to me?”

“When we got back to London, I gave Vortigern an ultimatum. I went to the London cove, one of the operatives’ largest headquarters and raided their medical research labs for anything to stop heart failure. Only God knows how you stayed alive. The bullet had been so close to your heart.”

“It never stopped beating for you,” he said. “You know that.”

She smiled. “The operatives have medical and research procedures many years ahead of modern science. I told Vortigern to send me his best team of surgeons and supplies. At first, Vortigern resisted. I told him, he can have me lead the operatives with you in my life, or he’d never see a Cress again.”

Nash raised an eyebrow. “What’d he say?”

“He had no choice. Without the Cress family, the operatives are vulnerable. It has always been Merovec’s warning.”

He squeezed her hand. “I’ve always wanted you to know your family.”

“I want you to be part of it. More than you know.”

She’d said more in those few seconds than all the years he’d known her. He nodded and with a soft sigh, he planted taunting little kisses along her cheek before settling his lips on hers.

Nash pulled back slightly. “What happened to Arlington?”

“The US government is waiting for your recovery before they tackle her. They believe you are best qualified and should be involved in whatever next steps are determined.”

“I see.”

“By the way, I learned that from Masher. He came to see you himself when ISTF told him about Arlington.”

So the old man is fine after all.

Nash’s exhausted eyes smiled at her. “Cal, there’s still one more thing. What’re you going to do about the operatives’ mandate?”

“Can I decide that with you? Will you help me find Merovec?”