Master No (35 page)

He had to laugh. It bubbled up out of nowhere. Some things were so dark, so black, they required laughter. “Please send me to Tahiti. I really pissed off those fuckers.”

He’d never actually been, but he could see himself there with Faith in her bathing suit, running out into the ocean and scampering like kids who had nothing to worry about.

“I was thinking more along the lines of China.” The senator obviously didn’t appreciate his black humor. “MSS would love to get hold of you. There are also a few Middle Eastern groups who would like some face time with you.” He turned back to his crew. “After we’re done, I’ll sell him on the open market. You won’t believe what he’ll go for, so I want him to feel the pain, but don’t damage him too much. I need him healthy for his eventual death.”

Hope pouted like a toddler denied a toy. “I wasn’t going to actually trade him. I was going to set a trap and then we’ll have both. Do you really think I’m an idiot?”

“No. You’ve already done enough. How could you let your sister find out about the vaccines? I told you to use another clinic for your trials.”

Hope’s face turned a bright red. “I couldn’t find another clinic. And she never would have known if it hadn’t been for the Ebola outbreak. She would have run through the shots and my man on the ground would have taken care of the patients who came in complaining. She might have heard a few, but things got crazy during the outbreak. I couldn’t control the study.”

Ten stared at Hope. “You’re testing your drugs on Faith’s patients. Nice.”

Hope shrugged. “I’m doing something the FDA might not approve of. And it’s just people in Africa. No one gives a shit about them. My preliminary trials have proven very promising.”

“Poor Mr. Smith,” McDonald said with nauseating sympathy. Though to be fair, pretty much everything was nauseating after the cattle prod. “You know you almost had me. I believed the Timothy Graham persona. Working at McKay-Taggart got my back up a bit, but it’s a large enough company. Do you want to know where you screwed up?”

In oh so many places. His arms ached. He would have more nerve damage to deal with. “Sure. Let’s have a debrief. I seem to have plenty of time.”

“You have no idea how true that is,” the senator replied enigmatically. He undid the buttons at his wrists and began to roll up his sleeves. “I use facial recognition software, too, Smith. You did a good job of avoiding my cameras. Well, the ones you found. There’s a stuffed bear in Faith’s bedroom.”

Taken down by a fucking nanny cam. Wouldn’t Tag have a laugh at that. “You spy on your daughter?”

“Of course.” He pointed to Hope. “This one in particular requires watching. She’s what psychologists call amoral. Hope is a bit of a sociopath. I find it useful at times, but often she finds it difficult to curb her hungers. I got her the job at Kronberg after I found her testing her drugs and surgical techniques on homeless people. Kronberg has done an exceptional job in focusing her skills.”

“It’s good to know you have a Dexter protocol.”

“I care about my daughters. I give a damn about their careers, their ambitions. And I take care. When I realized you were using my daughter, I traded places with one of my security guards. It’s amazing what makeup and knowing where the cameras are can do for a fellow. I think your brethren still believe I’m in Paris, and I have alibis coming out of my ass. The CEOs of four different companies will all be willing to testify that I was with them in Paris today.”

“I’m sure you do.” It didn’t surprise him that the senator had his ducks in a row. “I’m sure you’ve done everything you can to cover up your crimes.”

“I like to think I’m prepared.” He circled around Ten’s body.

Ten tensed again. The senator had a lean and hungry look. The whole day was starting to feel like a Shakespearian tragedy. “Preparation won’t save you from what you’ve done. People will figure it out. You can destroy the evidence, but it’s still alive in the victim’s bodies and it will be for a while. So it doesn’t matter. You’ll get caught eventually.”

“We’re taking care of that,” Hope explained. “I put a plant in Faith’s clinic a long time ago. I clean up after myself. That particular experiment has already been terminated.”

Ten rarely found himself shocked by the evil people could do, but Faith had made him soft. Kids. Hope was terminating children’s lives to hide her experimentations. Faith would be devastated.

“I’m going to kill you.” He would get out of this clusterfuck and he would reap a righteous vengeance on these people. He would go biblical on their asses. Rage filled him, drowning out the pain. His sight went a misty red.

“Pass me that.” The senator’s eyes hardened as he took the cattle prod. “I think our guest is getting feisty. Don’t underestimate him. He’s deadly.”

“I’m damn straight going to be deadly to you,” Ten spat.

The senator shoved the cattle prod in his side and pain exploded through him. His body convulsed, shaking so badly he couldn’t see straight. His vision faded and a blessed blackness threatened to overtake him. He wanted to go there. He could be with Faith there.

“Don’t let him pass out,” a nagging voice said. Hope slapped him back to awareness. “I want to see how he handles this.”

There was a stinging sensation in his leg and that crazy bitch pressed down on the hypodermic needle.

His vision went hazy as they hit him with the cattle prod again.

And time seemed endless.

* * * *

Faith could feel the sunshine on her face, but it didn’t move her. The sound of the ocean was never far on the island, and here in the tourist district, it was practically the soundtrack to life. It was a peaceful day with happy tourists walking around, enjoying the shops and restaurants before heading back to the resorts or the cruise ships that had brought them here.

She walked through the small market, out of the house and alone for the first time since Ten had left. She’d slipped past her father’s guards, and she knew she wouldn’t have very long. She needed to be alone, needed to process what Ten had done to her, what her father had done.

Maybe it was time to think about going back to Africa. She could sink into her work and one day she wouldn’t think about Tennessee Smith every second of her waking hours. She was fairly certain she would dream about him for the rest of her life.

She could hire someone who could help her find out what had happened at her clinic. She didn’t buy a word her father or sister had said. A day and a half. She’d spent most of that time in her room, but they’d nagged until she’d agreed to eat with them. She’d sat there and talked and they’d both been lying to her. They knew something, but if she called them on it, they would do whatever they needed to do to cover it all up.

That’s what Ten had said. He’d advised her to be quiet until she had proof.

Good advice or had he simply been covering his butt, too?

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. There was a haunted look to her eyes, and she would swear she looked older.

She missed him. It had been not more than thirty-six hours since she’d read that file her father had left for her.

She’d learned a lot about Tennessee Smith. She’d learned he was a career CIA operative who had moved up the ranks quickly because he was both ruthless and deadly. He’d been responsible for some of the deadliest missions in the history of the Agency. He had a genius-level IQ, and according to the psychologist’s report, he was a potential serial killer. The report talked about his childhood issues and inability to bond. According to the report, he’d even been the one to kill the only woman he’d ever been serious about. He’d killed her when he thought she’d turned on him.

That’s what the report said.

She didn’t know what to believe.

“Excuse me, miss?” A deep voice brought her out of her misery.

She looked up and there was the most massive man she’d ever seen standing in the aisle. He was a gorgeous hunk of man, towering over her. He had to be over six and a half feet, and there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He was dressed in a pair of board shorts and a white T-shirt that clung to his every muscle.

He wasn’t Tennessee Smith though.

“Yes?” The word felt dull coming out of her mouth. It was like the last few weeks had been filled with color and now she had to go back to black and white.

“Can you tell me where the coffee shop is?” He had a thick Australian accent. He brushed a hand through his super-short hair and looked around as though completely lost. “I can’t find a thing in here.”

She looked around. There was a coffee shop close by. It sold gelato, too. She realized she’d managed to walk to the edge of the market. “Well, you’re going to have to walk back to the east. You’re on the edge of a residential district and that’s probably not the safest place to be. I should go back, too. I’ll help you find it.”

At least she could get one good deed in. The man was intimidating, but some of the residential sections of the island were known to be violent. Even at his size, he could be mugged or worse. The police were too busy protecting the tourists to pay much attention to some sections.

“Or you could come with me quietly, Faith.”

She turned back, her skin going cold at the sound of her name. She hadn’t told him her name. She started to walk away, but a woman blocked her path. She was dressed in a filmy white skirt that covered the bottom half of her slinky bathing suit. A big hat covered her flowing dark hair and she carried a big beach tote bag. She looked every inch the wealthy tourist out for a jaunt, with the single exception of the gun she held on Faith.

“Sorry, love,” the woman with the English accent said. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with us.”

“You weren’t supposed to scare her,” the Aussie shot back.

The Brit shrugged. “Ten isn’t around to give us orders. I’m following my instincts. My instincts tell me this one is going to require a bit of persuasion to come with us. Besides, we need to move. Her father’s goons are looking for her. We’ve got maybe two minutes until they’re here.” The woman’s stunning green eyes narrowed. “Tell me. Did they kill Tennessee Smith? Did you watch them?”

“Hey, Erin said she wouldn’t do that,” the man argued.

They knew Ten? And Erin? She looked around, but she’d managed to get off the beaten path. The nearest people were far away. She wasn’t sure they would even hear her if she screamed. She wasn’t sure she wanted to scream.

She wanted answers. “Is Erin still on the island?”

It was stupid. She didn’t even know Erin. Not really. Erin was apparently a big part of the conspiracy against her father, but she wanted to look at the woman and tell her how she felt. She hadn’t been able to do that with Ten.

“She is. None of us leaves without Ten. Or his body,” the Aussie said with grim determination.

That was a bit dramatic. “Put down the gun. I’ll go with you. I want to talk to my…friend. It’s good to clear the air sometimes. Are we walking or do you have a car somewhere? We really should go. My father’s men will look for me and they might not be so polite when they find the two of you here.”

The British woman nodded to an alley. “My partner is waiting.”

She placed the gun in her tote bag, likely thinking Faith wasn’t much of a threat. Which was correct. She had a tiny bit of self-defense training. The likelihood that she could stand up to these two was miniscule. The Aussie alone could kill her with one hand.

Which was why this was a horrible idea, and yet she followed the woman in white down the alley that could potentially be the site of her ignominious death. Or another kidnapping meant to force her father to do whatever these people wanted.

Would Tennessee Smith be at the end of this road? Would he be the one holding a gun and sending her into a cell until her father coughed up the money or information he required?

She had to know. In that moment, it didn’t matter that she could die. She had to know if Ten Smith would be the one who killed her. She had to look at her friends and tell them what they’d done to her, how deep their cuts had been.

When a big man with inky black hair opened the door to a van that really should have had
property of a serial killer
painted all over it, she got in.

Because nothing seemed to matter anymore.

Twenty minutes later, she knew all three of their names, but not where they were. The Aussie, Brody, had blindfolded her lest she be able to direct her father and his nefarious men back to their Bat Cave.

Des was the woman, and Des had gotten a stern lecture from the Russian god, Nikolai. Apparently no one wanted a gun pointed Faith’s way at this point. It was obvious they were going to play good cops and bad cops with her. She wondered which one Erin would be.

“We’re here,” Brody said. The big man had sat in the back with her after he’d made sure she didn’t have a cell phone on her. She’d left it behind and considered seriously destroying the thing since her sister had probably put a tracker on this one, too.

Brody had been strangely gentle with her, making sure she was buckled in and that she didn’t get jostled too much after they’d turned off the road and onto what felt like a dirt path. He’d asked if she was comfortable and told her that they would feed her or get her something to drink once they’d made it to the meet point.

He was a polite kidnapper.

“Don’t get scared,” Brody said. “I’m going to take the blindfold off now. We’re here. No one’s going to hurt you.”

“Sure. That’s what all you guys say.” She blinked as the sunlight hit her eyes. The Russian was standing in front of the door, his hand out to help her down. Behind him, she saw a canopy of green and a gorgeous house in the background.

It could only be one of a few of the private homes on this part of the island. On this very exclusive piece of beachfront, there were twenty or so homes kept by wealthy investors or intensely rich people. They stayed away from the resorts, preferring parts of the island where no one would bother them.

Ten had money behind him if he could afford to use a place like this as his base of operations. Money and power.