Nauti Dreams (36 page)

go. It was the first place they would have checked. There was no other cover, no other

place to hide but a hole.”

Chaya felt her heart clench as he caught her hand and pulled her to his lap, surrounding

her with warmth when she wanted to surround him with it.

“I made that hole. I was going to shove you in it and try to find cover above you. I hate

closed-in places, Chay. Dark, small places. That was always my weakness.”

His cheek brushed against her hair.

“You were in that hole with me,” she whispered.

And he nodded.

“I couldn’t leave you in there by yourself. You were all but blind, hurt. When I killed

Nassar later, Chay, I think I scared myself, because I enjoyed it. I saw you, so brave and

strong, and trying so hard to fight when you should have been leaning against me, crying,

doing something other than storing your strength in case you had to go down fighting.

And you would have gone down fighting.”

She felt his heart beat beneath her cheek and held on to him, because he had forced

himself into that hole with her.

“I was losing it,” she told him then. “Before you pulled me out of there. I was ready to

break, Natches. And in that hole, when I heard them coming for us, I was screaming in

my head until you kissed me.” That kiss had pulled her back, it had saved her. “You

made me strong. Because of you I was able to run. You held me up, you almost carried

me. And because of you, I was able to stand the darkness in my own mind, and the fear

that they were going to hurt me again. I didn’t want to hurt anymore. And when I lost

Beth. You kept me sane. With your touch, with your kiss, with all the wild pleasure you

poured into me that night.” She stared up at him, seeing his somber expression, even in

the dark, her heart breaking for the man who had forced himself into that hole with her,

and was now trying to face his own nightmare. Alone.

His expression was shadowed, dark, but his eyes were alive. And they brought tears to

her eyes. Fierce, shockingly determined. He would do whatever he had to do to make

sure Dayle Mackay never hurt anyone he loved, ever again.

“Clayton Winston called while you were in the shower earlier,” he said. “He got to talk to

Christopher. Then DHS called him back. They’ve arranged transportation through a

private broker to D.C., where he can see his son in a supervised visit.”

Chaya closed her eyes, thankful Cranston had followed through with that.

“Clayton’s dying,” he said. “Doctors don’t think he’ll see the year out. He needed this

before he passes on.”

“And what do you need, Natches?”

It felt like an epitaph, the way he was talking, as though he wouldn’t return to her, and

she refused to consider that.

“Come on.” He lifted her from his lap and drew her through the doorway into the

bedroom. There, he closed the door to the control room and locked it with a flick of his

fingers.

“You didn’t answer me.” She turned to face him in the darkness of the room. The drapes

had been drawn that morning and the room was almost pitch black now.

He turned on the low lamp by the bed and turned to face her.

“You’re coming back to me,” she whispered, her breath hitching. “Don’t you look at me

like that. You’re going to be covered, and you’re coming back to me.”

And tears filled her eyes, because she couldn’t imagine anything less.

“I’m coming back to you,” he promised her. “One way or the other, I’m coming back,

Chay. But how will you see me, how will our child see me if I come back with blood on

my hands?”

His father’s blood. She could see it in his face, his uncertainty that he could leave Dayle

Mackay alive.

“Bullies are weak,” she told him huskily. “You get what DHS needs and they’ll break

him. I swear to you, Natches, they’ll break him and they’ll put the rest of that group away

for good. You’ll win.”

She knew they would. She was the interrogation specialist, but she only interrogated

subjects of interest, she didn’t interrogate suspects, nor did she interrogate suspected

terrorists, homegrown or foreign. There was a division for that, men and women who

made her worst nightmares seem like a picnic in the park.

He nodded. The confidence, the sheer knowledge in his eyes that he would do whatever it

took to protect what belonged to him, humbled her. He tried to be a shield between the

world and those he loved, always trying to protect them, to make certain danger never

touched them. And he never expected, never asked, for the same, though he knew Dawg,

Rowdy, and Ray Mackay had always been there for him. He had never asked.

“We’re good to go then.” He nodded before moving to her, his lips settling on hers like a

promise. A gentle, forever promise, as sweet and heated as a dream.

“We’re good to go.” She nodded, and she pushed back the fears. She would cover the

angles, she would create a bubble around him that could do nothing less than protect him

from any outside forces.

But inside that bubble, Natches had to face the knowledge that he wasn’t just betraying a

monster. He also had to confront that last glimmer of hope, that the monster had a soul.

Monsters didn’t have souls though, Natches assured himself as the meeting with his

cousins and Alex Jansen drew to a close.

Not for the first time, he found himself amazed at Chaya’s knowledge, and her ability to

find workable solutions to the problems that were going to face them when it came to

executing the plan they had conceived.

Illegal wiretapping was nothing new, and Cranston wasn’t above using it to make certain

a plan was coming together. A call had been made to Dayle Mackay by one of the men

watching the Mackay cousins, informing him of the division between Natches and his

cousins over an old picture, evidence against a citizen of Somerset in the stolen missiles

case, and Natches’s refusal to give the authorities pertinent information where that citizen

was concerned.

And Dayle had been interested.

Natches listened to the other man’s voice on the digital recording Alex had slipped in to

him. The smug certainty in Dayle’s voice—that, finally, blood had thickened in

Natches’s veins and become more substantial than water.

He turned his back on his cousins as the recording played, kept his expression calm. This

wasn’t a Mackay he was going after; it was just another monster. Just as it had been in

the Marines. It wasn’t a person. It was a target, nothing more.

“Moving the Nauti Dreams was also noted,” Alex told them all softly and switched to the

recording of another call. Natches’s phone call to another marina and the arrangement of

transportation for his houseboat was given as well. With each call, Dayle became more

confident, more certain that his son and cousins were finally making the split he had been

waiting on.

“That’s my boy,” Dayle mused softly, smugly. “I knew it wouldn’t take long.”

“What about the woman? The agent with him?” the voice on the other end questioned

him. Daniel Reynolds was one of the men in the photo, one of the fanatical leaders of the

future revolution.

“Women are easy to get rid of,” Dayle snorted. “An accident, a few little drugs popped

into her drink, and she does the bar on a Saturday night. Natches’ll drop her.”

“She’s still an agent.”

“And she doesn’t have the information he has,” Dayle pointed out. “No doubt, that

relationship will terminate soon enough, on its own. I’ll call him soon.”

“Are you certain about this?” the other voice pushed determinedly. “We can’t afford to

mess up.”

Dayle laughed at the question. “Trust me, Daniel, I know my son. I knew it was just a

matter of time. The boy’s a killer. He was a killer in the Marines, and he’ll always be a

killer. That kind of cold only adheres to its own kind. He’ll come in.”

“Very well,” Daniel agreed. “Arrange the meeting and contact us when you’ve finished.”

The sound of the recorder disengaging flipped a switch in his mind. Cold. Hard. Yeah, he

was a killer. He turned slowly to meet his cousins’ eyes.

“Chaya, do you still have those files?” He knew she did.

“They’re upstairs in my case.” She moved for the staircase but not before she cast him a

suspicious look.

As she disappeared upstairs he looked at his family. His cousins and the man he called

friend.

“This might not go as easy as she thinks it will,” he told them quietly. “If anything

happens to me, you take care of her and my child.” He looked to Dawg and Rowdy.

“Give him what Uncle Ray always gave me, and make it stick.”

Dawg and Rowdy glanced at each other.

“Man, this is going to be a walk in the park,” Dawg protested. “Alex has point, your

woman has your wire, DHS in the van, and me and Rowdy in place. Nothing’s going to

happen.” Dawg’s gaze sharpened. “Unless you do something dumb. You gonna do some-

thin’ dumb, Natches?”

Natches’s lips quirked at the question. “Have I ever done things any other way, cousin?”

“Hell.”

“He’s going to do things right, or he’ll find me standing beside him.”

Natches jerked around, frowning at Chaya, who didn’t have those files in her hand. But

her hand was propped on her hip and her expression was something just this side of

pissed off.

“Isn’t that right, Natches?”

He inclined his head smoothly. “I’ll play by the plan,” he promised her.

But he knew Dayle. And he knew Dayle would never play by any kind of rules. This was

it and he knew it. When he walked out of that meeting, one way or the other, it was going

to be over.

And she didn’t believe a word he was saying.

“Here’s the cell phone.” Alex pulled the phone out of his pocket and handed it across the

table. “Cranston’s proud as hell of this little puppy. He said not to break it; it’s the only

prototype they’ve managed to complete successfully.”

Natches lifted the phone from the table, flipped it open, and checked it for anything that

Dayle could use to identify it as a wire rather than a phone.

“It even makes phone calls,” Chaya told him with a hard smile.

“Cranston has the van parked in town, one agent inside. As soon as he has the location

point he can park it within half a mile and still receive clear reception,” Alex informed

them. “As far as any listening ears at the hotel could know, he’s raging over Natches’s

refusal to join the team or to help Agent Dane complete her mission. He’s making plans

to pull out of Somerset once she contacts him.”

“Which will be tonight,” she told them. “I’ll contact Cranston and inform him that he

should pick me up in the morning and that I’ll be returning to D.C. with him.”

“That’s when I assume Dayle will make his call.” Natches nodded.

“I’ll need to activate the cell phone to your number rather than using your own cell,”

Chaya told him. “We want a recording of it. Calls will transmit with no possible trace

outside the half-mile limit.”

“We’ll be ready to move when Cranston gives the order.” Alex nodded to Dawg and

Rowdy. “We’ll have everything in place and ready to move.”

“And he’ll have his own watchers,” Natches warned them.

“He has six we’ve identified, and we’ll have men covering them. We’ll allow them to

stay in place until the last minute before taking them out.”

It was a damned good plan. Natches nodded to the three men as he curled his arms

around Chaya and pulled her back against his chest, one hand against her lower stomach

as he stared back at his cousins, his look intent.

They knew. Brief nods assured him they knew. If anything happened to him, then Chaya

was to be protected, just as he would have protected one of their wives, one of their

children.

They had made that vow long ago and far away. Three boys that should have been

brothers, that had wished they were. They had become brothers. And they had made that

vow, what belonged to one was the others’ to protect. That simple.

Chaya felt his hand on her stomach and stared at Dawg and Rowdy fiercely. No matter

what Natches wanted, he was to be protected. Their gazes flickered to her, then back to

Natches, and she hoped, she prayed that the nod they gave was an affirmative to that

silent demand.

The Nauti Boys were thick as thieves, it was said. Their loyalty was to each other and to

family alone. That bond would protect Natches.

“We’re out of here then.” Alex got to his feet and looked to the back of the boat. “Damn,

that water’s fuckin’ cold tonight.”

“And Kelly and Crista have electric blankets and hot coffee waiting on us. That’s the best

you’re going to do tonight, Alex,” Dawg informed him.

“Yeah, the two of you curl up with a warm body, and I get stuck with an electric

blanket,” he grunted. “I always get the short end of the deal with you boys.”

“Yeah, and we’ll remind you of that one of these days.”

They disappeared along the hallway, silence slowly descending through the houseboat.

There wasn’t a splash, a dip of the boat, or a slide of a door to indicate they had left.

“Come sit with me.” Natches drew her to the couch, but rather than sitting, he stretched

out on the cushions and drew her into his arms.

“Just sit?”

“Just let me hold you.” He tucked her close, his body warm and hard, strong and secure.

“Stop making this feel like a funeral, Natches. Nothing is going to happen.”