Jason (Kings of Guardian #4) (3 page)

Jason scrolled through his phone looking for the information he needed. He knew where to go, who to talk to to get what he needed, and God pity the fool that got in his way, because he sure as fuck wouldn’t.

“Hi, my name is Daniel, and I’m an addict.”

The murmured responses of the people who attended the NA group washed over Jason like a soothing balm. He let the tenor and tone of the meeting soak deep, filling cracks that had once again threatened to consume him. His tattered emotions lay open and raw, bleeding from the beating he’d taken by looking at that file.

That damn file. He wasn’t listening to the words being said, but he needed to be here. He needed the strength of knowing he wasn’t the only one. He struggled to come to terms with the emotional turmoil the file had unleashed. Jason sat at the back of the room, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, eyes closed tight against the relentless onslaught of memories.

***

Almost three years ago…

He’d searched for hours for his team. He reached the primary rendezvous point and waited. Not one team member showed. He spent most of the night working his way to the secondary and then, finally, the tertiary site. That was where he found three of his four teammates. Bound, on their knees, and at the business end of several Russian AK-47s.

Theo Collins had just taken the stock of one of the weapons to his face. Jason slid closer to the group, his weapon off safe and levered to semi-automatic. He cursed in a silent stream of anger and frustration. The position of his men prevented him from opening fire. He’d kill them along with the extremists.

Jason’s mind raced as he tried to formulate a plan—anything that could help.

“Tell me! Who are you? Who do you work for?”

Theo spat blood at the foot of the man. It cost him. The hollow thud of the man’s weapon against Theo’s face resonated again in the small opening.

“Answer me or I’ll kill you.”

Theo struggled back up to his knees. Through the snot and blood hanging from his broken nose he sneered as much as his battered face would allow. “Kill me, you bastard. I won’t talk.”

Jason watched the man raise his rifle, heard the metallic click of the weapon’s safety being released.

“They work for me. I’m their leader.” Jason emerged from the darkness of the trees and was immediately covered by automatic weapons. He raised his hands, gun held high, pointed at the sky. He motioned toward Theo. “He couldn’t tell you anything. None of them can, but my people will pay—and pay very well—for our safe return.”

“You are Americans. Americans don’t pay.”

“The American government doesn’t pay. We aren’t government.”

Jason was pushed to his knees. His arms bound behind his back with wire. Once he was secure, his captors started arguing loudly in their native tongue.

Theo caught Jason’s eye and nodded toward the young guard on the right. The kid wasn’t more than thirteen. Jason made sure the guards were still engaged in a bitter argument and shook his head. They were all bound, without weapons, and there were too many to overpower.

Theo nodded again. Jason twisted so his team could see his hands and signed: No, we wait for better odds.

The other members nodded their understanding. Theo hesitated, but acknowledged the command. Jason knew trying to get the upper hand at that point would be a death sentence for everyone. They’d find an opportunity that gave them a chance at making it out alive.

Finally, the man who spoke English returned and stood between Jason and Theo. “They pay, but not for him.” The shot rang out before Jason had any idea of what the man was doing. Theo’s body flopped to the dirt. The image of Theo’s brains scattered over the hardened tan and gray soil seared itself into his mind.

Jason’s enraged growl reverberated as he launched from his knees at the man who’d killed his teammate. Rage blocked out all rational thought and Jason fought like a wounded, feral animal. Leveling the man with his enormous height and weight, Jason grabbed ahold of the fucker’s neck with his teeth and bit down. The cartilage, skin and muscle compressed under his desperate bite. With every ounce of strength he had, Jason levered to his knees and ripped the man’s throat out. The keening wail of the asshole under him echoed eerily in his mind. He felt the tissue rip and give just as a blinding pain pierced his skull and darkness overwhelmed him.

***

A hand on his shoulder brought his head up with a jerk. Jason cast a furtive look around the now vacant room.

“I waited as long as I could, son. The next group needs to use the room. Why don’t you and I go have a seat on the benches out front?” Jason remembered the refined gentlemen who spoke to him from previous meetings. Matt. No last names were asked for or given in Narcotics Anonymous.

Jason nodded and stood. He glanced at the women waiting in the hall and nodded solemnly as he passed. Once outside he sat down on the wrought iron bench and drew a deep breath.

“Tough day?” Matt asked as he sat back.

“Tough life.” Jason meant it.

“I can understand and relate. Do you want to talk about whatever is driving you so deep within yourself?”

“Can’t go into specifics.”

“Then don’t. Stay at concept level. Big picture.”

“I’m being forced to confront a piece of my past that I thought I had buried.”

“Ah. I see.” The man’s sigh preceded his next comment. “A portion of your past that you haven’t made peace with?”

Jason nodded.

“How long have you been clean?”

Jason shrugged. “Depends on your definition. Five years before being treated medically. Since then, one thousand thirty days.” Jason prayed he would make it to one thousand thirty-one.

“So, this past, if you had a magic wand and could make everything change, what would you do?”

Jason exhaled hard and sat back. “I don’t know. We were in a foreign country. It was a damned-if-you-do and damned-if-you-don’t situation. But I wasn’t the one who was damned. Two people are dead because of decisions I made.” He’d found out later his weapons specialist had died from the jump. The jump he ordered. Broke his neck on landing.

They sat quietly for a long span of time. The distant sound of vehicles punctuated the silence with a rhythm unique to this portion of the city.

“Well, since you are sitting next to me now, I will assume that you made a couple of correct decisions. I’m also going to assume you were U.S. military or worked for an agency that would sanction those types of events. Am I correct?”

Jason cast the man an assessing eye. “I can neither confirm, nor deny, that assumption.”

Matt chuckled without any real humor. “Got it. Alright. Ever hear of Murphy’s Law?”

“Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong,” Jason said.

“Well, I have my own code. It’s called Matt’s Law. Original, aren’t I?” The old blue eyes danced with mirth.

“Very.” Jason tried for a slight smile. He wasn’t sure he’d been successful.

“First rule: Be true to yourself. Don’t exaggerate, make excuses or manipulate the past. Dealing with the truth is hard enough. Don’t take on any additional baggage. The second rule is also my last. Live the life that you were given to the fullest. As much as we may try, we will never be motion picture superheroes who always get the happy ending. But we can try.”

Jason rolled his head and narrowed his eyes at the man. “Did he send you?”

“He who?”

“You know who.” He wouldn’t put it past Gabriel to have a support system in place for him.

“Nobody sent me, son. I’m an addict. I’ve been clean for fifteen years, five months and four days. I am responsible for the financial ruin of hundreds of people. Two of them committed suicide because of my manipulation. I developed my rules in order to live with myself and my past. If you think someone sent me here, you’re wrong.”

Jason held the man’s stare. The honesty and the emotion in his eyes conveyed more than his words.

“Does it ever get easier?”

“Yes, son, it does. But there will be days like this, too.”

“Carpe diem.”

“Exactly. Deal with the issues of the here and now and worry not about the future.”

“That ever work for you?”

Matt chuckled and stood. “Working on it, son. Working on it.”

***

“So there seems to be a massive, fist-sized dent in my elevator.” Gabriel’s voice carried over the hiss of steam heating the sauna.

After two hours of weightlifting and a half hour doing serious damage to the heavy bag, Jason’s body was demanding a little R&R. The security cameras in the office’s common area must have caught his little temper tantrum last night.

“You don’t say.”

“What pissed you off?”

“You did.”

“Really? I don’t recall speaking to you yesterday.” Gabriel sat down across from him and leaned back on the tiled bench.

“Why? Why do you think I need to go talk to them?”

“Why do you think you don’t?” There was no delay in Gabriel’s response. His mentor knew exactly what Jason was talking about.

“I’m good with my past.”

“Bullshit.” Gabriel snorted.

“Excuse me?”

“No, I’m not going to excuse you… not any longer. You need to have closure. Face these people. Tell them what happened.”

“Tell them I am the reason their loved ones died? Yeah, no thanks.”

“No, damn it! Tell them you were there when they died. Tell them that their loved ones didn’t die alone, that you feel their loss. Mourn with them and then let go of these fucking ghosts that haunt you. I’m tired of pussy-footing around this situation. Open your fucking eyes. You saved the people you could. You were tortured and damn near died.”

Jason dropped his head back on the white tile and closed his eyes. He was so fucking tired of carrying the guilt and the anger of that mission.

He glanced across the room. “I did what I had to do.” Hell, even after years of second guessing and pulling it apart at the seams, he really couldn’t say he’d do anything different. It just fucking sucked that he had to do it at all. And maybe that fact was what pissed him off the most.

“And you saved lives. If you hadn’t made them jump, they’d all be dead and so would you. If you hadn’t convinced those fuckers we’d pay for you and given Jacob time to get to you, you’d all be dead. Yes, two of your men died. Yes, you need to talk to the families, but not for them… for you.” Gabriel semi-disappeared as steam rolled out into the sauna, giving the words an almost dissociative feeling.

“When?”

“Now, this week or next week. I’ll keep feeding you information and we can work any meetings virtually unless we need a secure connection. Those I’ll back-brief you on. You need to close the door on the past before you can move forward, and yeah… I’m pushing you to do it, but if I didn’t think you needed it, I wouldn’t. Get this done. You’ve got carte blanche to do what you need to do. Just get it done.”

Jason nodded and shook the hand that was offered him. Gabriel stood and headed toward the door. “And repairing that elevator frame is coming out of your salary.”

Jason shrugged off the reminder of his temper of last night. “Deal.”