Blind Run (2 page)

Again, the Glock flickered across Ethan’s thoughts. He should make them pay to take him. After all, the Agency had created him, bought and paid for him since the time he’d been old enough to hold a gun. He could at least give them their money’s worth.

Who was he kidding?

He had no one but himself to blame for the things he’d done, the man he’d become.

The car door opened and the driver stepped out, surprising him in a way he no longer thought possible. She was a tall woman, tightly built, with features hinting at blended Asian and European ancestry. Ethan had always thought she’d inherited the best of both races, with straight, even features, thick dark hair, and skin the color of cream. Where she’d gotten the hardness, the angry edge most men lacked, he couldn’t say.

Anna Kelsey.

They’d never been friends, but they’d been colleagues once and soldiers together in an unnamed war. Now he understood how the Agency had found him. Only six people knew about this place, his team’s last-ditch rendezvous spot if all else failed, and Anna was one of the six. Only he’d thought she was dead along with the others.

“So, it’s true.” She closed the door and walked toward him, stopping a few feet away. “You’re alive.”

Ethan tightened his hold on the cup. “Disappointed?”

“The rest are gone.” She leveled cold eyes on him. “Lee, Mike, Jenkins, even T.J.”

“What about you? You’re still breathing.” He had to wonder about that, how she’d escaped the Spaniard’s wrath. Although, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Survival had been Anna’s special skill, a talent he’d once used without conscience. But Ramirez had found the rest of them, one by one, and made them pay. Even Ethan. Especially Ethan. “Someone might question how
you
managed to stay alive.”

She ignored the implied question and said, “You look like hell. I’d heard you’d given up, but I didn’t believe it.”

“Now you do.” He frowned and dumped the last of his coffee into the sand. “So let’s cut the bullshit, shall we? Do what you’ve come for and be done with it.”

“You think I’m here to kill you.” She cocked her head and smiled slightly. “Under different circumstances, the idea holds some appeal. But that’s not why I’m here. Not this time.”

He didn’t believe her. Anna thrived on the hunt, and at one time he’d been the best. She would have wholeheartedly embraced the task of bringing him down, if for no other reason than to prove she could. But he wasn’t playing by the rules, and it would eat at her.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought you’d stop by for a chat.” Surprisingly, he felt no fear, and even the guilt had fled. He felt only relief that it might finally end.

“I need your help,” she said.

He must have missed something. “You want to run that by me one more time?”

“You heard me. I need your help.”

He didn’t respond right away, then he laughed, the irony of it too much. “Sorry, but you asking me for help, it’s a bit funny.”

“This is important.”

“It’s always important.” An edge of anger touched his voice. “Isn’t that what we told ourselves, Anna? How we justified the things we did, the people we killed?”

She flinched. “That was an accident. We didn’t know Ramirez had a kid in his cabin. How could we? We didn’t even know she existed.”

“No?” It was a question Ethan had turned over in his mind a million times in the last three years. Had it been an accident? Or had he and his team unknowingly accomplished what they’d been sent for? “Maybe you’re right. Then again . . .” He let his voice trail off. Accident or not, the end result was the same, and he couldn’t hide from the responsibility of it.

“Look, Decker, I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Then you best be moving on.” Ethan pushed himself to his feet, swaying a bit as the pain in his head reasserted itself. “You had it right to begin with. I’m finished. I’m no good to you or anyone else. Go find yourself another gun.”

“I don’t need a gun. I just want you to—”

The back car door opened, cutting her off, and a boy of about twelve stepped out. Behind him a small blonde girl edged out as well, clinging to his arm.

“Callie needs a drink of water,” the boy said to Anna.

“Get back in the car,” she said, without looking at him.

“Not until you get Callie some water.”

Before Anna could respond, the girl said, “Please, Anna, I’m not feeling very well.”

Anna turned to the girl, a softness creeping across her features that Ethan had never seen before. Then the momentary gentleness vanished as she swung back to face him.

“
They
need your help.”

“WE’RE HERE TO HELP
, Dr. Turner.” Cox’s voice was warm, solicitous. “Those children are the heart of this project, and they must be brought home safely and quickly.”

Paul wasn’t fooled. Cox didn’t care about the children. It was the project and its outcome that interested him. But Paul had found his way out, his scapegoat.

“Are you telling me this woman,” Paul inserted just a trace of indignance in his voice, “this professional killer, kidnapped two of my children?”

“Your children?” Morrow mocked.

Paul bristled. “I think of all the children here as mine.”

“Yes,” Cox replied. “I’m sure you do. And yes, we believe Anna took the children. The real issue is why, or more specifically, for whom?” He nodded to Morrow, who worked the keyboard until another image replaced Anna’s on the screen. This time it was a tall man with dark blond hair, strong features, and blue eyes that seemed to leap off the screen. “Do you know this man?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Morrow asked.

“I’m sure.” Paul shot Morrow an irritated glance. “Who is he?”

Without answering, Morrow tapped the keys and another image materialized next to the first. “What about him?”

The second man had classic Latin features: dark eyes, hair, and skin. He stared down from the screen with an intensity and quality of danger not even the grainy computer image could hide. Paul thanked the powers-that-be it was only a picture.

“I’ve never seen either of them. Who are they?”

“The first is Ethan Decker,” Cox said. “The Latino is Marco Ramirez.” He paused, as if gauging Paul’s reaction. “We believe Ms. Kelsey is working with one or both of them.”

“For what purpose?”

“Come now, Dr. Turner,” Cox said. “The children here are not without value. Certainly you understand there are people, governments even, who would pay dearly to possess them.”

Of course Paul knew that, but he was playing for his life and needed to act the part of the outraged father. “And you believe these men,” Paul motioned toward the screen, “plan to sell Danny and Callie? Why that’s . . . inhumane.”

Cox eyed Paul with amusement. “So it is.”

“But do they have the connections to arrange such a sale?” Paul asked, ignoring Cox’s obvious sarcasm.

“Decker was an Agency officer with international contacts,” Morrow answered. “His specialty was search and retrieval. He’s good at finding . . . things.”

People.

Though Morrow hadn’t said the word, Paul understood what he’d meant. Ethan Decker hunted other men.

“And,” Morrow added, “Decker and his team got in and out of places conventional service personnel couldn’t reach.”

Committing acts of horror those same conventional soldiers would not, Paul thought but dared not say. “It sounds like you admire him.”

Morrow shrugged. “He was good at his job.”

“He was an exceptional officer,” Cox said. “With a high mission success rate. And, yes, he had the contacts to arrange a sale.”

Paul realized they’d been speaking of Decker in the past tense. “I take it he’s no longer in the government’s employ.”

“He dropped out of the intelligence community several years ago,” Cox said. “After a particularly nasty business which resulted in a failed mission and the death of an innocent bystander. A child.”

“My God.”

“I doubt God had anything to do with it.” Cox took his time folding his hands on top of the table. “More likely, Decker simply became overzealous in his determination to carry out his mission.”

Paul shuddered at the thought of two of his most valuable children in the hands of a man like Ethan Decker, a man who specialized in hunting other men. “And the other?” he asked, knowing the information about the Latino would be worse. “This Marco Ramirez?”

“Now that’s a man I can admire.” Morrow’s smile sent another sliver of unease down Paul’s spine. “Ramirez’s talents run along a different vein than Decker’s. In fact, you might say Ramirez’s skills make Decker look like an altar boy.”

Paul didn’t want to know more, but he had no choice. He needed to know the kind of men he was dealing with if he had any chance of surviving. “What skill is that, Mr. Morrow?”

“He’s a shooter. There are maybe five, six men in the world who can handle a rifle like he can. And now that he’s no longer on the government payroll, he works for the highest bidder.”

“What exactly does that mean? What does he do?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Morrow grinned. “He’s an assassin.”

ETHAN KNEW
Anna Kelsey was capable of assassination, all of them had been. What he found hard to accept was her traveling with two children. Or asking for help.

“What’s going on here, Anna?”

She stepped to the girl’s side and placed a hand on her thin shoulder. “This is Callie and her brother Danny.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“What’s bothering you, Decker?” She crossed her arms and eyed him with equal parts annoyance and curiosity. “That I’m alive? Or that I invaded your self-imposed exile?”

“Both.”

“They need your help.”

“Cut the crap.” He’d worked with Anna for too long to be fooled. She wasn’t exactly the maternal type. Nor was she into humane gestures. Anna Kelsey cared about one thing: her own skin. “We both know you’re not here for some altruistic reason.”

“You think you know me so well.” Her eyes sparked with anger. “Did it ever occur to you there are some lines even I won’t cross?”

“You forget who you’re talking to.”

“Seems you’re the one who’s forgotten who and what he is.”

If only that were true. “Did the Agency send you?”

“They know nothing about this.”

He studied her, trying to gauge the truth of her words. It was impossible. Anna lied as easily as most people breathed.

“Look,” she said. “I just need to leave the kids here for a couple of days, three at the most. There’s something I need to take care of, then I’ll be back for them.” She hesitated, as if deciding how much to say. “I need you to protect them for me.”

“From who?” The question escaped before he could stop it, before he could remind himself it wasn’t his concern.

“I’ll tell you.” Her voice held a sudden note of fatigue. “Just . . . Would you get Callie a glass of water first?”

Ethan looked at the girl, then at the boy standing at her side. They were as unalike as any two kids he’d ever seen. Anna had said they were brother and sister, but Ethan didn’t see it. The boy, Danny, was dark complected with hair and eyes to match, while Callie was blonde and blue-eyed with an angel’s face. She stared at Ethan with open, sweet curiosity, while the boy oozed with hostility.

“We’re hungry, too,” he said, daring Ethan to refuse.

“Please, Decker,” Anna said. “We’ve been on the road for nearly forty-eight hours. Let us catch our breath, then I’ll explain everything.”

Ethan didn’t believe her. Anna would tell him exactly what she thought he needed to know—just enough to get him to go along with the game. What she didn’t realize was that she couldn’t change his mind, he wanted no part of her or these kids. He was out of it. Finished.

But he couldn’t refuse a glass of water to a little girl or her angry big brother. Not even he had sunk that low. “Okay, I’ll get your water, but afterward, you’re on your own.”

Anna nodded and urged the girl toward an old lawn chair beneath the awning. “Come on, Callie, you need to get out of the sun.”

Feeling dismissed, Ethan went inside.

It took a few minutes of rummaging through cabinets to come up with a couple of clean glasses. As for food, he didn’t have much. He found a box of crackers and a half-empty jar of peanut butter. It would have to do.

He’d just started filling the glasses with water when an engine kicked over outside. For half a second he froze, caught by his own gullibility. And by the time he made it through the door, Anna was gone, the white Ford leaving a whirlwind of dust and the kids in its wake.

“Damn it!” Ethan gritted his teeth, feeling like a fool. He’d known better than to trust that lying—

The boy claimed the glass of water. “She said to tell you she’d be back.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I don’t believe her, either.” The kid shrugged, not looking any happier about the situation than Ethan, and returned to his sister’s side. “Looks like you’re stuck with us.”

“Like hell.” Ethan hurried back inside.

He found his keys beneath the rumpled sheets where he’d dropped them the night before. As he passed back through the narrow kitchen, he grabbed the box of crackers. Outside, he tossed the package to the boy. “Come on, we’re going after her.”

“Callie’s too sick.”

“I don’t care. You’re going with me.”

“You want her to heave all over your truck?” The boy let out a snort of disgust and nodded toward Ethan’s pickup. “Not that it would make much difference in that heap.”

The kid needed a lesson in manners, but Ethan didn’t have time to argue with him. Besides, the girl did look pitiful. “What’s wrong with her?”

The boy gave his sister a couple of crackers and looked like he’d refuse to answer. Then he said, “She gets carsick, okay?”

Just his luck, stuck with a couple of kids and one of them got carsick. Ethan couldn’t wait to get his hands on Anna. “Okay, stay here. I’ll be back.” As he climbed into his truck, he added, “Don’t touch anything.”

“Don’t worry.” The kid glanced around the shabby yard. “I wouldn’t want to catch something.”

“Smart-ass,” Ethan muttered, threw the truck in gear, and headed after the Ford.