Chapter 38

Two hours later, Jordan sat with Joe in his bedroom while everyone packed up the house. They both stared out into the night, Jordan’s thoughts reeling as he pressed the gauze to his gut. Pulling it away from the stitches, he felt relieved that it seemed the bleeding had subsided a bit.

Shaking his head, he couldn’t believe all that he’d endured this past year—the torture, the erasure of his memory, becoming a terribly official assassin, having Joe and the rest of his platoon find him, LSD trips, hypnosis, and now, Joe had cut him open and found a tracking device.

And Ava … he’d spend the rest of his life thanking God for her. He prayed he could make her happy as they continued on their journey in this new life together. He’d been through so may phases in his thirty-three years: the time where he grew up, met Ava and married her, and now. Then, the past year with Group Nine when he did things he wasn’t proud of and felt tremendous guilt for them. Now, he looked forward to his new start with Ava.

Joe nodded, then sighed as he rubbed his eyes. The sun would be coming up in an hour, and Jordan hoped that they would all be out of the house before then. When Nicholas and his associate didn’t communicate with Group Nine, they’d send more operatives, and Jordan was ready to roll out the red bloody carpet for them.

He’d never seen Joe look so tired. “What’s next for you, Joe?”

The man didn’t speak for a long time. “We’ve located Connor Dickson.”

Connor had been in his unit, and had been a great guy. “When do we get to see him?”

Joe shrugged. “I’m not certain you will. Connor has the ability to sense paranormal beings. His talents and leadership skills are needed in another organization.”

He eyed Joe, wondering if the guy had lost his mind. “Paranormal beings?”

“Yes. We’re fools to think that only human beings inhabit this planet, don’t you agree?”

A year ago, he wouldn’t have given any thought to what Joe said, and just chalk it up to paranoia or some type of mental breakdown. But then again, he never could have imagined everything that happened this past year, either. If Joe said paranormal beings walked among us, then he’d definitely give it some consideration.

“Just like us, there are good and bad of all races and species. I battle the corrupt humans in the government. Connor is needed to fight the bad entities in the paranormal world, to bring them to justice.”

“What’s the organization called?”

“Operation Underworld.”

“Never heard of them.”

Joe grinned. “No one does unless they’re asked to join. They work a lot like I do.”

Speaking of which … he had no idea what happened after the sun rose. Would Ava be safe? Would he?

A knock sounded at the door and Brody stepped in. “We’re ready to roll, Joe.”

Jordan got to his feet, a little disappointed that their conversation had been interrupted.

Joe rolled himself to the door, then turned back to Jordan. “Are you sure you don’t want some help?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I’m doing this one on my own. Are the bodies in the basement, Brody?”

“Yes. It’s all you now.”

He nodded and walked them to the elevator. When the panels split, Joe rolled in, and he and Brody followed.

“When you meet up with Ava after you’ve completed your job here, we’ll discuss your future in my organization,” Joe said, as if he’d read Jordan’s previous thoughts. He probably could.

Everyone had gathered on the bottom floor, except Thomas, Joe’s right hand man. He’d apparently left before the shooting to secure Joe’s next stop.

Ava stood next to Lucas, looking pale and exhausted, with Grunt under her arm. He stepped up to them, and the dog’s tail wagged while Ava smiled.

He kissed her, his blood racing as images of them making love dashed through his mind. When they were reunited, he hoped to take the memories and make them reality.

“Are you sure you need to do this?” she murmured against his mouth.

He nodded. “Yes. I’ll be careful, and I’ll catch up with you in a couple of days.”

“He’s going to meet us on the boat,” Brody chimed in.

He glanced around the room, feeling more certain than ever that he was doing the right thing. Group Nine had affected the lives of everyone in the room. “You guys go. I’ll take care of everything.”

Ava kissed him one last time, and he watched as they piled into the awaiting cars and sped away. He stood in the house by himself, except for the bodies downstairs.

Sighing, he turned and walked into the kitchen. On the table lay the tools he needed to get his own personal revenge on Group Nine.

He couldn’t take all of them out, but he’d damage them as much as he could without compromising himself or any of his squad, and especially, Ava.

 

 

 

Six hours later, Jordan sat out on the Sound in a boat he’d rented from the local marina. He had a perfect view of the house, and thankfully, the weather remained beautiful, and the water calm.

As he pretended to fish, he decided he hated the sport. The boredom had him ready to stick a hook in his eye.

He’d been waiting for something to happen at the house for the past four hours. Longing to drive the boat back to the marina and leave the Northwest, he couldn’t quite yet. He hadn’t exacted his revenge.

The next team of Group Nine operatives should arrive at any time. Then, he’d put his plan into motion. If they didn’t, he supposed he’d have to stay on the damn boat all night long until they made their appearance. Good thing he’d left the lights on in the house. If this little operation did move into the nighttime hours, he would need to be able to see when they arrived. Perhaps, he’d even have to take the boat to shore and hide out on the beach. He hoped not, as it would be a good idea for him to stay as far away from the house as possible.

A couple of hours later, he stared at the house and thought he saw movement, but then wondered if his eyes played tricks on him. He wiped a drop of sweat making its way down his cheek, glad that he’d opted for a boat with a tarp, or umbrella, or whatever the covering was called. He’d be fried alive without it.

He didn’t know how much more time had passed, but the water stirred to his left. He gasped as a grey whale surfaced about twenty feet away from him.

Holy shit. That had been close.

A smaller whale popped up, and he realized he looked at a mom and calf. He recalled his whale-watching trip with Ava, and grinned. She’d been so excited that day, her elation almost childlike.

He stared at the magnificent animals until they swam out of sight, then turned back to the house. Certain he saw movement on the private beach, he scrambled for the binoculars.

Dusk had descended, which made it a bit difficult to see the shaded beach. He counted five men running up the stairs to the house, guns drawn. Assuming others had gone into the house from the front, he waited a few moments. He wanted to make sure that everyone stood inside.

Pulling out the cell phone from his pocket, he typed in the password, then the code. A low rumble hit his ears, and he picked up the binoculars. The house began to shake, as if a strong earthquake had hit. A few seconds later, it started collapsing in on itself. The first floor sank into the basement, the second floor became the first. When the implosion completed, he stared at nothing but a pile of rubble—a total decimation of the pretty house, but satisfaction rolled through him. No one inside could have survived. He would have preferred to use his own special method of dealing death, but blowing shit up felt really good and fulfilled his need for revenge.

He hauled up the anchor, pulled in his damn fishing rod, and turned the key. The boat roared to life, and he whistled as he drove it back to the marina.