Fearless: Complicated Creatures Part Three (39 page)

Her dream returned to her even though the details were already slipping through the sieve of her consciousness. Sam wondered momentarily if her father was speaking to her from the grave or if her subconscious was running wildly through the streets, screaming its uncertainty.

She slipped back, careful not to wake Jack as she moved off the bed. She dressed quickly, picking up her phone off the dresser before leaving the room, shutting the door as quietly as she could manage.

Alejandro opened the door to Ryland’s room just as she passed it.

“Morning,” he said as he finished shrugging his gun holster over his shoulders.

“We need to talk.” Sam pushed him back into his room, surprising him.

“Words no man ever wants to hear…. Especially before coffee.” Alejo could have easily resisted her, but he didn’t.

“I want to call your sister—” she started before glancing around, startled. Sam hadn’t set foot inside Ry’s room since he died. Hannah had converted it into a guest suite. Ry’s twin bed and the trundle Carey had slept on most nights had been replaced by a California King, and the walls had been painted a soothing blue. Gone were the toys and posters of Ry’s heroes. She looked up at the ceiling where she’d pinned glow-in-the-dark stars to the ceiling when he was still afraid of the dark so he’d have constellations to fall asleep to every night. Those too were just a memory.

Ryland’s ghost wasn’t haunting her here. It was just a place now. A place that vaguely reminded her of him, like the distant refrain of a song she loved.

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind, or are you going to stare at my shit?” Alejo’s amused voice snapped her out of her reverie.

“Something’s been bothering me about this deal with Lightner, but I can’t put a finger on it,” she admitted to him. “I want to talk to Rox again—puzzle it out.” She pulled out her phone, dialing Rox over speakerphone.

“Svetlana’s Sexy Hotline,” Rox answered in a surprisingly good Russian accent. “What is your pleasure?”

“Lucien Lightner’s head on a spike,” Sam answered readily.

“Kinky. I like it,” Rox purred.

“I’m on the line too and you’re fucking traumatizing me,” Alejo declared.

“Are the guys in Israel yet?” Sam asked.

“Just landed. Avi’s on his way to pick them up now,” Rox informed them, back to business. “Sam, I don’t know whether to thank you for sticking me in a house full of stupid hot guys or if I should be, like, really aggravated.”

Alejandro made a gagging nose.

“Bit of both is fair,” Sam answered, smirking at him.

“So you’ve got the ‘
something’s on my mind’
voice going,” Rox remarked.

“Something’s been bugging me about this op, and I need your particular talent for looking at all the angles, since I’m not there to see them myself.”

“What’s up?”

“First, Lightner goes through the immense expense, pain, and trouble to change his face, and yet he shows up on radar with a known arms dealer for what?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Rox drawled. “He’s running low on cash and he needs to make a big play.”

“But is this a big enough play?” Sam countered. “He just set off a bomb in London that’s shoved him so far into the international spotlight, he might as well become phosphorescent,” Sam continued. “If Lightner’s going to gamble, he’s going to make it count. I can’t help but think London was a set-up for something bigger.”

“If he was that good, he wouldn’t have gotten himself shot,” Rox replied blithely.

“Yeah, but was that enough to derail him off whatever the bigger plan is?” Sam pondered aloud. “He may not have accounted for you, but he did manage to escape in the end, didn’t he?”

“So what are you thinking?” Alejandro asked, piping in.

“I’m thinking he’s already on watch lists—so what does he have to lose?” Sam responded.

“Go big or go home?”

Sam nodded. “Lightner’s an audacious son of a bitch and he’s more than a little nuts, but he’s not an idiot. This set up at Ashdod—it’s highly risky. So many things could go wrong. He knows that. So why take such a big risk over some rocket launchers and mortars?”

“You think he’s got a ballsier play?” Rox asked.

“The man has a taste for theater. We saw that in London and Rio. And he’s a sidewinder. He’s going to want us all looking one way while he goes another.”

“So what’s his endgame?” Alejo interrupted. “What do you think he’s got for a Plan B?”

“That’s what I don’t know,” Sam sighed, rubbing her brow. “Rox, that’s what I need you to plan for. I can’t shake the feeling we’re missing something. We’ve got to cover all our bases.”

“Are you kidding me?” Rox replied, incredulous. “This port is a rat maze. There are twelve piers, four additional berths for roll on/roll off ships, and half-a-million square meters of storage space with special reinforced containment warehouses, not to mention the passenger cruise ships flowing in and out of here.” She sounded exasperated, like she’d spent all night working a puzzle with a mess of missing pieces. “Lightner’s got so many accessible alternate plans, there aren’t enough letters in the alphabet.”

“The other thing is, with the exception of kidnapping Jack and Mitch, Lightner’s rarely shown up to anything in person. Or if he’s shown up, it’s where you least expect him.”

“So you think he won’t do a deal in person?” Alejo asked.

“I think he’s too slippery to leave anything to chance,” Sam answered. “Look, I know you guys are setting up the plan today and I trust you to execute. But Rox—you need to think like him. He’s sneaky.”

“Like you,
manita,
” Alejandro added.

“Ha ha, asshole,” Rox drawled. “Very funny.”

“No, he’s right,” Sam agreed. “You’re an illusionist. So is Lightner. What would you do if you wanted to get your cake and eat it too?”

“It’s fucking hard to disappear anywhere with heavy artillery,” Alejo commented.

“I rarely agree with your brother, but he makes a good point.” Sam met his eyes as she spoke into the phone: “Ask yourself, Rox—what does Uzi Dichter have that’s worth an absolute fortune, and is small enough and light enough, to get in and out of with?”

*

April—Same Time

Wyatt Ranch, Texas

J A C K

Jack stepped away
from Alejandro’s bedroom door, careful not to make a sound as he padded down the stairs. He took a sharp right toward the library, avoiding the kitchen so he could exit out of the library’s double-doors into the garden, unseen by Hannah or Grant.

He had awoken nearly immediately after Samantha had left the room, looking for her sleepily, his fingers trailing over the warm space she’d occupied, her scent in the air like a faint whisper. Jack sat up when he heard her and Alejandro talking in low tones in the hall. His hand was already on the door knob when he heard her say that she wanted to speak to his sister.

Jack was groggy from sleep, but that triggered some kind of faint memory. He’d met Alejandro’s little sister once or twice back when Alejandro would train at the boxing gym in Little Italy. Since they were about the same weight and height, his father used to pair them together for sparring sessions. Alejandro was a natural and a quick learner. He had incredible speed and was quick to attack, and Jack recalled only just managing to best him in the ring because he had more experience. But all that was years ago. Jack thought he recalled Alejo bringing a kid sister to the gym a few times when he couldn’t find someone else to watch her, but he wasn’t certain.

Hadn’t she passed away in some tragic accident?
Jack could have sworn his father had mentioned that to him at some point. He remembered thinking how devastated he would feel if he ever lost Jaime.

Curiosity piqued, Jack paused outside the door to the room Alejandro was staying in. He could hear the muffled voices of Samantha and Alejandro, but there was a third woman’s voice floating through the door. It sounded like some sort of conference call. Jack stiffened the moment he recognized the voice of the woman on the call. She’d been the mystery woman who’d saved him in London—the ace up Samantha’s sleeve.

Holy shit
.

When Jack got back to the guest cottage, his mind was whirling. Alejandro’s sister was alive, and she was the same woman who saved him and Mitch; he was certain of it. She was also close to finally pinning down Lightner near some place called Ashdod.

Jack palmed his phone, looking up the name of the port he’d heard the mystery woman mention. He found the Port of Ashdod. One of the few deep-sea ports in the world, and it was located just south of Tel Aviv. Quickly, he called his brother.

“Fuck me, it’s too eaaaaarly. Why the hell are you calling me?” Jaime groaned into the phone. Jack checked the time. 5:30 am.

“Are you okay?” Jaime came awake with the seriousness of his tone. “What happened?”

“Did Alejandro de Soto have a sister?” he asked, rubbing the bristle on his jaw. “Do you remember?”

“I don’t know,” Jaime murmured, thinking. “I never really knew the guy—I don’t recall. Why?”

“I think he did, but for some reason, I thought she was dead. I could have sworn dad told me she was in some kind of bad accident a long time ago.”

“Okay, but why do you care? Why does it matter all of the sudden?”

“Because I think she was the one who saved my life in London,” Jack told him. “I just heard her voice on the phone with Sam and Alejandro. I think she’s the same woman Sam has tracking Lightner right now.”

“Can you do it off-radar?”

“Is a pig’s ass pork?”

Jack ignored the comment. “I don’t want any flags triggered on this woman, especially if she’s supposed to be dead. I don’t want any of this getting back to Dad or de Soto.”

“Got it. I’ll call you as soon as I get anything good.”

When Jack hung up with his brother, he called his father next.

Sandro Roman answered on the second ring. “I’m glad you called, Gianni,” he started. “I didn’t like the way we ended things last night—”

“What would you be willing to trade for actionable information on Lucien Lightner’s whereabouts?” Jack asked, interrupting him.

“How do you know where he is?” Sandro asked, alert.

“Dad, please just answer the question.”

“Is he in the U.S.?” His father pressed.

Jack hesitated, then decided to play it straight, though that would cut down on his father’s sense of urgency a bit. “No. He’s not here.”

“Then he’s not my problem.”

“No, but he is the CIA’s concern,” Jack bargained. “They can use the leverage with MI-6 or Interpol. Information is still their currency, right?”

His father waited for a moment. “How good is the information?”

Jack smiled. He had him. “I’d stake my life on it.”

“I suppose I already know what you want in return.”

“The deal’s changed,” Jack responded, playing hardball. “I have something the CIA will want, and they have something I want.”

“Confirmation or denial of Rob Wyatt’s involvement, I suppose?” Sandro replied, sounding resigned.

“Better than that,” Jack pushed. “I already know Rob Wyatt was an asset of some kind. If he wasn’t, you would have denied it last night outright. So now if you want this information, you need to produce his handler. I want a face-to-face.”

“Gianni—be reasonable.”

“I suppose there’s nothing I can say to get you to let this go?” his father asked, sighing heavily.

“I’ll find another way then, and trust me—you won’t like it. Produce Rob Wyatt’s handler at the CIA and tell that person I want a frank discussion based on the facts. I’m not interested in indicting anyone. I just want to get Samantha the truth so she can put this shit to rest and move on with her life.”

“Fine,” Sandro sighed, thwarted. “I’ll see what I can do.”