Javier pondered Derek’s words. Then, after what seemed like minutes, he burst out laughing.
“Fine, have it your way. I find your audacity refreshing, Mr. Falconi. Most people don’t say whatever they want to me—and live.”
“Then I’m honored to be the exception,” Falconi stated boldly before spitting blood out of his mouth.
Javier laughed heartily at that. “Fine, I will allow you a chance to redeem yourself, but don’t think I plan to make a habit of accepting your failures,” he warned. “I don’t even accept my family’s, so you certainly won’t be the exception.”
Derek’s face was throbbing, but he managed a slight smile. “I appreciate that.”
He let himself out of the presidential suite where Palacios resided while in town. Calling the elevator, Falconi strode through the lobby, oblivious to the people gasping and staring at his disheveled and bloody appearance.
“I’ve had enough of your threats, Palacios,” he sneered. “Kill me? I promise you that the first thing I will do when the opportunity presents itself is return the favor.”
He surveyed himself in the rearview mirror when he got to his car. After assessing the damage, he opened his glove compartment and retrieved a packet of disposable wipes. Falconi gingerly wiped the blood off his face before balling up the wipes and tossing them on the passenger-side floor.
He was about to start the car when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the number. Then, closing his eyes and sighing, he finally answered it.
“Where have you been?” Brinkley roared into the phone.
“Tied up,” he responded.
“Meet me at the old warehouse in twenty minutes.”
“I don’t think I’ll—”
“Twenty minutes, Derek. And don’t be late.”
Brinkley hung up before he could reply.
He pondered if the millions of dollars he stood to receive were worth the aggravation.
Decision made, Derek started the car.
“Yes,” he finally said aloud. “It definitely is.”
Eighteen minutes later, Falconi entered the dark warehouse. He was walking cautiously across the room when he heard a gun cock.
“That’s far enough.”
He halted and put his arms in the air.
“I’m unarmed.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” Brinkley snapped. He walked into the faint moonlight and stared at Falconi with distaste.
“Why would I lie?” Derek said impatiently.
“Probably the same reason you set me up—because it suits you,” Brinkley accused. His anger fueled the edge in his voice. He kept his gun trained on Falconi.
“And exactly how did I set you up?”
“You told Cole where to find me, didn’t you? He and his errand boy, Terry Dash, tried to interrogate me about Silent Night and Coulter’s whereabouts. I almost got tortured to death by snakes because of your screwups. And you know what? I hate snakes!” he yelled. “It wasn’t on my watch that Cole’s grandson got injected with Silent Night, it was yours, yet somehow I’m the one knocked around because of it?”
When Brinkley got closer to Falconi, he noticed his battered appearance. “What happened to you?”
“Me? Oh, I was busy getting interrogated by Javier Palacios. It seems he is still holding a grudge about his weapons being destroyed and Silent Night’s auction up in the air. He blamed you and decided to use me to deliver a message. So, you see, I was a little too busy getting the crap beaten out of me to be setting you up,” he snapped.
Brinkley looked like he was trying to decide whether or not to believe Derek’s explanation. Finally, he clicked the safety on and holstered his gun. “If you’re feeding me a line, Derek, I swear I’ll bury you.”
“Yeah, well, it appears to be two-for-one day on torture and death threats, so get in line.”
“Need I remind you that if I go down, you go down?”
“Great, another threat.”
“It’s an observation,” Brinkley clarified. “Like it or not, the two of us are tied together, so if you’re thinking of double-crossing me, Derek, you’d better rethink that plan because I’ve got safety measures in place to ensure my longevity.”
“For the last time, I’m not trying to play you. I’ve always been loyal to you and have just as much to lose as you do.”
Brinkley looked skeptical.
“When have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?”
“Can you blame me?” Brinkley countered. “This net has gone pretty wide. If it weren’t for one of your men injecting Coulter with Silent Night, we wouldn’t even be in this predicament. You knew he was off-limits. Everything we set up, all the hard work, connections, and millions of dollars in payouts are at stake.”
“Like I want to see everything go up in flames?”
“Well, what are you doing to prevent it? We need those codes, Derek. He’s a dead man walking, and yet for some reason, he’s the hardest man in the world to find.”
“I told you I’d handle it, and I will.”
“Yeah, you’ve been handling it for days now. At the rate you’re going, Coulter will be in a morgue by the time we catch up with him.”
“I don’t need a recap,” Derek snapped. All efforts at civility were gone.
“Oh, you don’t?” Brinkley crossed his arms. “Great, group activity leader, so what’s your plan?”
Falconi’s cell phone beeped before he could answer Brinkley. He checked the screen and quickly connected the call.
“What?” he demanded. “What?...When?...Good job. I’ll be in touch.”
When he hung up, Brinkley said, “Well? What was all that about?”
“I just received word that a flight plan for the company jet was just recorded.”
“So?”
“So,” Derek repeated impatiently, “it went to Sedona, Arizona. It will be prepped and refueled for another flight carrying Cole, his daughter, and his son-in-law when it returns to Ghost Town. To the same location.”
Brinkley digested that information. “So that means—”
“You got it. They know where Coulter is hiding. We follow them, and they’ll lead us straight to McKendrick.”
Brinkley smiled broadly but instantly regretted it when the skin was taut across his busted lips. “I’m going with you. McKendrick’s time of holding all the cards is finally up.”
And so is yours, Falconi thought to himself.
Coulter awakened to complete, unnerving silence. Feeling sweaty, he wanted nothing more than a long, hot shower, but first he checked on Marena. He found her asleep in the lab but sitting on the couch with her head cocked back. Her glasses were at a weird angle on her face. Quietly, he went over and gently lifted her legs and rotated her body to lie down. Then, kneeling beside the couch, he watched her sleep.
It was one of his favorite things to do. When they were together, he would usually get up earlier than she did for that very reason. Coulter was fascinated by how her nose crinkled when she smiled in her sleep or the low-level snore she never owned up to.
Marena Dash was his whole entire world.
He almost lost his mind from heartbreak when he left the last time. He couldn’t envision having to do it again. Still, if Marena didn’t want to be with him, he would respect her wishes and leave. No questions asked. He had put them both through hell the last time. He’d rather die than make the same mistake twice.
You are dying anyway, he reasoned. Coulter had been trained to accept that he could die at a moment’s notice. He wasn’t afraid of it. In truth, he had always envisioned it would be quick and unexpected but in the line of duty. Nothing had prepared him to have it dragged out for days on end. Or the volatile, yo-yo side effects he was enduring from Silent Night. He had an intuitive feeling that his time was almost up. Suddenly, Coulter was overcome with emotion. Tears lurked in his eyes at the thought of leaving the woman he loved. Of having to let her go permanently. Coulter rubbed his chest to ease the physical pain.
Marena rolled over onto her side. Coulter went to grab a nearby throw. When he returned, he placed it over her and kissed her forehead. “Get some rest, my love,” he whispered.
Marena murmured something incoherent.
He didn’t have much appetite but decided to go warm up some soup to help keep his strength up. He checked his text messages while waiting for it to boil. There was one from Liam. When he read it, he sighed with relief at the news that his buddy Neil had resurfaced.
That’s fantastic news. I’m pleased to hear it, he typed back.
Tex-Mex wanted me to give you a message. He said not to worry about him. He aims to stay off the radar. I told him about what happened to you, and he said, “Remember that guy that gave up? Well, neither does anybody else, so you fight like your life depends on it because it does.”
A lump lodged in Coulter’s throat. He was overwhelmed with emotion at reading Neil’s message. He didn’t tell Liam, but part of it was a code for him. A-I-M-S meant that his friend had arrived in Melbourne, Australia, safely.
As for continuing to fight, Coulter was doing his best, but deep down, he knew that he was losing the battle and that Silent Night was winning.
He would continue to fight for Marena’s sake and not give up. But each day that brought him closer to death was a struggle for survival.
Coulter heard a firm tapping on the front door and glanced at his wristwatch. It was two-thirty in the morning. He knew that Lucas was due back but was unsure of the time. Careful not to wake Marena, he went to let him in.
When he opened the door, it was Marena’s father standing on the other side.
“General Dash,” Coulter said in surprise.
Terry came in, bringing two duffel bags with him.
“How are you, Colt?”
“I’ve been better, sir.” They were indoors, which was the only reason why Coulter didn’t salute Marena’s father.
He set his bags down. There were a few moments of awkward silence before Terry moved in and hugged Coulter. He clapped him on the back a few times.
“I’m sorry to hear about what happened.”
“Thank you, sir. I can’t imagine what you must think of my being here.”
“Nonsense,” Terry dismissed. “You did the right thing seeking Marena out. I know she would’ve wanted you to find her, given the circumstances.”
“I won’t lie. My chances are extremely slim, sir.”
“I didn’t come all this way for a funeral, Colt,” Terry retorted.