All Due Respect (29 page)

to Jeff, or for what he intended to do to him.

Not now. She positioned the barrel away from a seam in her purse, toward smooth, less dense leather. Not ever.

He’d pushed her hard and far for a long time. No more denying the truth. In kidnapping Jeff, Karl had pushed her too hard, and too far. He had left her no choice.

FIVE years had passed, but the camouflage gear still felt as natural to Seth as his skin. He looked over at Matthew’s greasepaint-smeared face. Colonel Kane sat at Seth’s right.

They made a circle and came at the cabin from across the lake by boat. From the shore, they moved in on foot, snaking their way through the darkness, listening for abnormal sounds. Colonel Kane signaled and a Special Ops team fanned out into the woods and took cover at their designated positions in the dense underbrush.

About seventy-five yards out, Seth saw a marking on a tree and stopped cold. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?” Matthew whispered from Seth’s side.

“C-4.” Seth examined the plastic explosives attached to the tree. “Trip wires at ground level, two, four, and”—he swayed, hoping the moonlight would glint on any overhead wires—“and six feet. Maybe more.”

Kane joined them, swearing softly, then spoke into a lip mike attached to a lightweight headset fitted in his ear. “Alpha, back down. We’ve got C-4 all the hell over the place. Trip wires level, upper—and probably below. Status report,” Kane said, tight-jawed. “Chandler?”

“North’s wired, sir.”

“Madison?”

“Yes, sir. All the hell over the west side, sir.”

“Paddy?”

“Bastard got the south, too, sir.”

And they were coming in from the east. Seth’s stomach furled. It would take hours to undo this handiwork. They could detonate it, but a brick would take out a house. They had seen enough to know that if it were detonated,

they would take out the cabin and blast in a new lake. Karl would be gone, but so would Jeff and Julia.

“Seth?” Colonel Kane looked him straight in the eye. “We can call in air support, fly over the damn stuff. Your call.”

Sweat trickled down Seth’s face, from fear and from the humid heat. “You do that, and Julia and Jeff are dead.”

“That’s my take on it, but I wanted to consider all options.”

Matthew’s eyes brimmed with concern… and understanding. “She’s on her own.”

“Yeah.” Seth’s throat muscles clamped down. She, who’d had one weekend of training in self-defense. Had sustained near-fatal injuries from the bastard she now had to confront, a bastard who had hospitalized her for months and still caused her challenges. She—who, for the life of him, Seth couldn’t see ever inflicting injury on another human being, much less killing a man—was on her own.

The only hope he could latch onto was something she had said at this very cabin. “Victim no more.”

Determination and conviction could carry a person a long way in accomplishing missions deemed impossible. But those facing those impossible missions usually had undergone extensive training that honed their instinctive reactions. With only a weekend of training under her belt, Julia simply didn’t possess those skills. And she had sustained injuries that imposed physical limitations on her others confronting these challenges just didn’t possess.

Would her resolve, determination, and persistence be enough to save her life and Jeff’s?

THE pills made the world a less scary, shitty place; gave him more control and focus. Anthony stretched out on the sofa in his office, soothed by the smell of the leather and its soft, buttery feel.

“Mr. Benedetto?” Roger stepped near. “Are you awake?”

Why couldn’t Roger just leave him alone and let him

enjoy a few more moments’ respite before the pills weren’t numbing him anymore? “Yes.”

“Your friend from Grayton just phoned. He’s still waiting for the launching sequence.”

“Why doesn’t he have it?”

“Dr. Holt hasn’t yet approved it.”

Anthony lowered his arm from over his eyes. “Tell that bastard to get us operational or I’ll pluck his heart out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell him we’re out of time.” Sitting up, he shouted. “Do you hear me, Roger? We’re out of time.”

Knowing that better than Mr. Benedetto, Roger walked to the desk, opened the top drawer, pulled out the prescription bottle, and then returned to the sofa. “I heard you fine, sir.” He shook three pills into his hand. “Your mother asked me to remind you not to forget to take these.”

Anthony downed the pills without water.

Uncivilized. Uncouth. Roger put the bottle back in the desk, turned out the light, and closed the office door. Anthony Benedetto’s days were numbered.

And Daisy Benedetto didn’t seem so wise, not anymore.

LIGHTS glowed amber inside the cabin.

Julia cut the engine and stared through the windshield, searching the windows, hoping for a glimpse of Jeff.

Nothing.

Something moved in the darkness. Squinting, she saw Karl, dressed all in black and standing alone in the grass, just in front of the cabin’s front porch. The light at his back silhouetted him; he looked huge. And she felt small. Small and helpless.

Memories of Destin and the attack, the pain, every threat he had made rushed in on her, carrying all her old fears. She wanted to ease her hand inside her purse, grip the gun, but she couldn’t do it. He would notice her hand being stuffed inside her purse, and only God knew what that could mean to Jeff.

You have to face him, Julia. You have to back him down.

She left the car, slid her purse strap over her shoulder, and stopped about twenty feet in front of Karl. The fear was strong. Bitter, and as strong as her resolve.

Dear God, she didn’t want to kill anyone. She knew how to kill. But to actually do it? To actually, in cold blood, commit murder? No, she didn’t want to commit cold-blooded murder. Not even against Karl.

When does it end, Seth? Does it ever end?

When you choose to make it end. You have to decide how much power you give the fear …

“Where’s Jeff?” Her insides shook. She lifted to the balls of her feet, attempting to prepare for anything. Karl always had attacked her from behind, but if pushed and in a pinch…

“He’s in a safe place.” Moonlight caught the metal on Karl’s gun and glinted.

With him, how could anything or anyone, anywhere, be safe? No way. But obviously he believed what he was saying. She had to reason with him.

Reason? With Karl Hyde? Don’t be ridiculous, Julia.

She had to try. For her own peace of mind. If she ended up having to kill him, then she was going to have to live with it. She wanted—no, needed—to know she had explored every possible alternative.

Fear lumped in her stomach. She pressed the flat of her left arm against it. “Karl, how can you justify kidnapping a child?”

“Camden suggested it.”

Once, Julia had believed that. So had Seth, Matthew, and Colonel Kane. Hell, the entire Intel community had believed it. But they had all been victims of Karl’s propaganda, his psychological warfare. And they had all been wrong.

Camden and Karl were abusers. Their strength came from terrorizing those weaker. Just as Karl didn’t want her dead, Camden didn’t want Jeff dead. He’d have no one left to torment. “You’re lying.”

“Watch it, sugar.” Karl stepped closer. “I’m about out of patience with you.”

“Benedetto told you to get Jeff—to get to me.”

He guffawed, but there was an uneasy flicker in his voice. “Benedetto doesn’t mess with families. You ought to know that. What? Your Intel assholes can get you out of a women’s shelter but now they’re slipping on you?”

She was on the right track. She felt it down to the mar

row of her bones. “Benedetto got you out of jail. He bought you out. That’s messing with families.”

“That’s reuniting a family. It’s different.”

So it had been Benedetto himself and not Morse who had brought Karl into this. “No, it’s not different. It’s Benedetto getting desperate.” Seth’s words ran through her mind. Desperate men commit desperate acts. “He’s a terrorist on a power trip, hell-bent on proving he can protect his people. But why are you letting him use you? Don’t you understand that millions of people—including you— could die?” Seth and Jeff and she could also die. Seth, without knowing she loved him. Regret twisted in her stomach, churned, and, not for the first time, she wished she had told him. “Millions will die, Karl. It’ll be your fault.”

“My fault?” Anger flattened his mouth to a grim slash. He rushed her, grabbed her left arm, got into her face. “Whatever happens is your fault, you ungrateful bitch.” He expelled a sharp breath. “You made the bomb, and you made me what I am.”

“Oh, no.” She jerked away. “I haven’t done anything to you. You’ve beaten, attacked! stalked, and tormented me. Once, I bought into your lies. I didn’t know any better then, but I do now. No more, Karl. You’re responsible for what you do.”

He turned toward the light. His eyes brimmed with hatred. “You’re pissing me off, sugar. Maybe you’d just better give me what I came for before I have to remind you why pissing me off’s a bad thing for you to do.”

Julia stepped back. “You’re getting nothing from me until I get Jeff.”

He lunged at her, swung at her purse. It thudded to the ground, out of reach. She maneuvered, resisting his weight, blocked with her arm and kicked, connecting with his lower abdomen. Expelling air, Karl flew backward and landed on the ground with a dull “Umph.”

Julia scrambled to her feet. She had caught him off guard once, but that wouldn’t happen again. Where was her damn purse? She needed her gun.

You won’t shoot him.

I will if I have to.

You won’t.

Shut the hell up!

Karl clipped her left shoulder, sent her sprawling. She tried every move—every single move Seth had taught her about attacking a man’s most vulnerable points, and a few of her own. But nothing worked. Karl was too strong. And her purse was too far away.

He grabbed her by the neck in a choke hold and jerked her to her feet. Her stomach hurt from his punch, her shoulder felt as if someone were driving nails through it. And the top of her head threatened to blow off. Where the hell was Seth?

Karl dragged her toward the porch. “I want -the disks, Julia.”

“Not until I get Jeff.”

He flung her to the ground. Grabbed her purse from a weedy clump of dirt and dumped its contents on the ground. “Where are they?”

“Where’s Jeff?” Come on, Seth. I know you’re out there. Intercede, for God’s sake—before the bastard kills me.

But Seth didn’t come. No one came. She prayed hard, and still no one came—except for the ghosts of her old fears. They arrived in force, bombarding her. Terrifying her.

Dear God, help me. I can’t fight them and him, too. I… can’t.

Run, Julia. Run.

I can’t leave Jeff!

He can 7 hurt either of you without the disks.

He couldn’t. Something had gone wrong for Seth. But any delay she could wrangle would give him and the team more time to move in.

Karl dug through the purse. “A gun, Julia?” He laughed. “This has to be a joke.”

At the moment, it seemed to be a bad one.

On his knees in the dirt, rifling through her things, he

examined the gun and tucked it into the waistband of his black slacks. “I’m going to ask you one more time, sugar. Then I’m going to beat the hell out of you. Where are the goddamn disks?”

Julia ran. She ran blindly, skirting the edge of the cabin, heading toward its back.

A man stepped out, tripped her. She fell spinning, rolled in the sandy dirt, and crashed a hip against the metal trash can.

A gun fired and a bullet whizzed past her head.

“Hey!” a man called out. “What the hell are you. doing, Karl?” As he came closer, dry leaves crunched under his shoes. “It’s me.”

Camden. Dear God, Camden had tripped her. He too wore all black and, buried in shadows, she’d had no idea he was there until she had heard his voice.

Karl rounded the corner, his own gun drawn and aimed at her.

“Hey, this wasn’t in the plan.” Camden’s voice rattled. “You said no one got hurt.”

“And you believed him?” Good grief. Even Camden couldn’t be that dense.

“No one got hurt. That is what you said, Karl,” Camden insisted.

Karl cursed. “Cowards with no guts really piss me off. Especially stupid ones.” He lifted the gun, aimed at Camden, and fired.

The impact of the bullet drove the man back, against the outer cabin wall. He crumpled to the ground. Dead.

Dead.

Julia couldn’t move. Fear paralyzed her. She needed to run, to get away. Good God, Karl had just killed Camden! But she hadn’t seen Jeff—she had to find Jeff—and her damn arms and legs wouldn’t work. Nothing would move. Why wouldn’t anything move?

Karl sighed. “Benedetto isn’t gonna like this.”

He wouldn’t. In fact, it could toss him over the proverbial edge and, over the edge, his desperation would mani

fest in concrete action. Hostile, criminal, deadly, concrete action.

Something flashed in an arc over her head. It cracked against her skull and pain exploded from her temple to her nape. Before she could life a hand, she was out.

SCRAPE. Swish. Thump.

Hearing the sounds, Julia came to and opened her eyes. She was in a metal coffin, about four feet below ground. Karl stood outside the hole, a shovel in his hand. It scraped the sandy dirt, swished as he dropped it over her, and thumped when it hit bottom.

“You’re burying me alive?” Her heart thudding hard against her chest wall, she shook dirt from her face and felt something strange at her nose.

“I wouldn’t mess around with that,” Karl said. “It’s oxygen. You’ve got twelve hours’ worth, sugar.”

He couldn’t do this. She needed Jeff. He needed the disks. She felt for them, but the disks were gone.

Don’t panic, Julia. You can’t panic. You need to stay calm. To find Jeff and get him out of here.

“If the info is good, I’ll be back for you. If not, then you’ll die of oxygen deprivation—just like your favorite little student.”

Every muscle in her body clenched at once. Ice-cold fear crippled her, freezing her where she lay. He’d buried Jeff? The son of a bitch had buried that baby? “Karl, no! Tell me you didn’t. Tell me you haven’t hurt that child.”