Dance With Me (16 page)

Javier watched as pieces of the tiny phone fell from Major’s hand. It was a basic phone, similar to his own, but not a brand he recognized. Amaya had told him to get a smart phone, but he’d joked that it would be smarter than he was. Javier frowned as a thought flitted across his mind. “Does she have a smartphone?”

Major jerked his head around. “Yeah. Why?”

Javier shrugged. “Most smartphones have a way to trace them if they’re lost or stolen. All you’d need to know is which app she has downloaded and her password.”

Paulson spoke up, “Assuming she has her phone with her.”

Major growled, “It’s with her. They’ll use it to call me if they can figure out how to contact me. They want me, not her.” He shook his head and muttered, “Why the hell didn’t I think of that?”

Javier felt a wave of pity swamp him. She could already be dead. He knew how that felt. Sort of.

Major dropped the crumbled phone he’d still been clutching and said, “I’ll trace it before I leave. You find her and bring her back.” He turned to Javier. “I’ll need a computer.”

Javier silently nodded and led the way to his computer and entered his password. Major entered a website, typed in a whole bunch of nonsense, and finally said, “I have a general location. They’re traveling. I’ll have someone watch it and keep you updated as it changes.” With that, he stood and headed to the door. “It’s time to go. You can’t be here when my team arrives.”

Javier took a look around and wondered if the "cleanup" was going to destroy the house. His landlord would be
pissed.
As he followed Paulson and Major out the door, he heard Major mutter, “I suppose I’ll have to get you weapons too.” Major stopped and turned to them and said, “I don’t need to tell you that there should be no survivors when you leave.”

Paulson shook his head and they continued out of the house.

Chapter 12

Max had been gone about an hour when Rebecca’s doorbell rang. She brushed the tears from her eyes and stood to answer. She unlocked it and started to unlatch the chain when she remembered Max’s warning.

“Do not open the door without checking to see who it is first.”

Rebecca looked through the peephole, but it was too dark to see anyone. She reached over to flip on the light when the door exploded inward and slammed into her face. Shards of wood from the frame flew around her as she watched it happen, seemingly in slow motion.
What the hell?

Rebecca fell backward, and her hands flew to her face. Blood spurted from her nose and she moaned. She rolled over and got up on her hands and knees.
That’s what I get for checking.

Someone pinched her butt and Rebecca shouted, “Hey! What the…?”

But the accented voices of two men interrupted her.

“That’s her.”

“Let’s get her to the car. Quick.”

“We’ll both have to carry her.”

Carry her? Hey, did they just call her
fat?
Rebecca tried to get her legs to move, tell them she wasn’t going anywhere, but nothing worked. She collapsed, her arms giving out beneath her, and her face slammed into the floor, causing her nose to throb even more.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Everything seemed to swirl and move and Rebecca felt someone grab hold of her. She tried to open her eyes, but they didn’t work either.

Then, nothing.

* * * *

Rebecca opened her eyes and immediately squeezed them closed again.
Did I hit the bottle again? Damn, my head hurts.
She turned her head to the side and tried to moisten her parched lips, but her tongue was too dry. She smacked her lips and tried to call up some saliva.
Worst. Hangover. Ever.

“Good morning.”

Rebecca jumped at the unfamiliar voice.
Holy crap, did I bring someone home? No, surely not.

“You may have water after you’ve answered a few questions.”

Questions? Rebecca opened her eyes again and tried to locate the speaker. She looked around the unfamiliar room in confusion. It looked like a damn log cabin. Not her bedroom.
Did I go home with someone?
But no, this didn’t look like someone’s home. It looked like…a vacation cabin? That didn’t make sense.
What the hell?
She finally located the speaker, an unfamiliar man dressed in black slacks and a white dress shirt. His hair was black and long, and he had a very neatly trimmed beard. He watched her in amusement.

Rebecca tried to sit up, only to realize her hands were handcuffed to the headboard and her feet were tied to the footboard. Suddenly, everything made sense. Date-rape drug. Someone had drugged her and planned to rape her, if he hadn’t already. She bit back a scream and struggled to break free. He didn’t speak, just watched her.
At least I still have my clothes on.

Rebecca let loose the scream and fought against the bindings. She twisted and turned, pulling against the headboard to no avail. She struggled until she was soaked with sweat and her throat was sore. And then she fought more. The man remained silent, watching her, and that was scarier than if he’d been hitting her. Rebecca could have tolerated a beating; God knows she’d tolerated them enough when she was a child. But this silent observation was unnerving. Desperate, she began to fling insults at him.

“You sick son of a bitch! Couldn’t get a date and had to drug someone? Or maybe you can’t get it up if she’s conscious. Or maybe it’s so small that no one hangs around once they see it. You sick, pathetic bastard!”

He still watched her, silent.

Rebecca let out a final hoarse scream and pulled against the restraints as hard as she could. Blood trickled down her arms where the metal handcuffs bit into her wrists. Exhausted and unable to move anymore, she collapsed.

He watched her for a moment, then picked up a bottle of water and sipped. Rebecca licked her lips again. God, that water looked good. She was hoarse and covered in sweat and so tired.

“Are you ready to begin?” The man put the water bottle down and looked back at her.

Rebecca tried to speak but it came out raspy. “Begin what?”

He stood and sauntered to the bed where she was bound. “Our interrogation, of course.”

Rebecca just blinked at him. “You’re not going to rape me?”

He laughed then, threw his head back and guffawed. It was a nice laugh and that wasn’t fair. Rebecca didn’t think evil people should have a nice laugh. It should sound evil, give you a clue about what was inside.

“Don’t be stupid. I wouldn’t taint myself with you. I’m a bit more devout than most of my colleagues though. You’re very lucky they sent me.”

Rebecca stared at him incredulously. Did he just say she was
lucky
?

He chuckled and wiped a tear from his eye. “No, I don’t want to rape you. I want the invisible man.” He picked up a needle from the bedside table and uncapped it.

“No! Not again!” Rebecca tried to struggle, but her muscles were limp and unmoving. All she managed was a small flop.

He laughed again and said, “This is just sodium pentothal. Something to loosen your tongue a little.” He pinched a piece of skin on her arm and shoved the needle in.

Rebecca felt a tear leak from her eye and into her hair.

He patted her arm and said, “Just give it a few minutes and then we’ll have our talk. If you tell me what I need to know, I’ll let you have water. If not…” He shrugged and turned away.

He returned to the chair and watched her. Rebecca turned her head and stared at the ceiling. Tears streamed from her eyes, precious moisture that her body couldn’t spare. She tried to fight them back, but she was getting lightheaded. A strange euphoria puddled behind her sternum and Rebecca forgot why she should keep her mouth closed.

She was floating, a cloud for her hammock, the wind for her fan. Nothing hurt, nothing felt. Rebecca closed her eyes and felt tension drip out of her body. It was nice…so nice to float. She drifted for what felt like hours, enjoying the lassitude and bliss. But she really needed a drink. Rebecca opened her eyes.

“Water?” she asked.

He shook his finger at her. “Ah ah ah. I told you, I need to know about the invisible man.”

Rebecca giggled. Silly man. That was a good movie. “I think it came out in the 80s. Chevy Chase was in it.”

He cocked his head to the side and smiled. “Not the movie. The man.”

Rebecca frowned. “But I don’t know Chevy Chase.” He was
way
too old for her.

He sighed and Rebecca furrowed her brow. How could he be mad at her for not knowing Chevy Chase? Christmas Vacation was a better movie, anyway.

“I want you to tell me about the man you’ve been seeing.”

Rebecca giggled. Men were idiots. “I see you now.”

“Let me clarify a little more then.” His voice got stony, wasn’t pleasant anymore and Rebecca pouted. Asshole. “The man you’ve been whoring for. You practically had intercourse with him in the middle of a crowded bar.”

Oh, he wanted to know about Major! Rebecca giggled. Major wasn’t invisible. “It was a club, duh. Not a bar.” Rebecca rolled her eyes. “And Major’s not invisible. I saw
lots
of proof of that.”

“Major. Hmm. What’s his name?”

Rebecca frowned. She didn’t want to tell this stranger, and that was confusing. She couldn’t remember why she shouldn’t tell him, but…she giggled again. “Maximus Erectionus.” Rebecca couldn’t stop the giggles.
Holy crap, did he give me weed?
“Get it? Maximus Erectionus?”

He didn’t laugh, just scowled at her and took a sip of water. “Fine. His name isn’t important anyway. How do you contact him?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Duh, again. He’s like, a spy. He just pops up. He’s not exactly on my social networking radar.” Uh oh. She didn’t think she was supposed to say that.

“Where does he stay, then? If you need him to come to you—which, trust me, you do right now—how do you contact him?”

Rebecca closed her eyes. Idiot. He just didn’t get it. “I don’t contact him. He just finds me.” She giggled again. “He’ll find me, don’t worry.” She started laughing again. “Why, does he owe you money or something?”

The man’s face turned red and his eyes narrowed. He practically shook with fury and Rebecca stopped laughing as fear finally took hold.

“He owes me the lives of hundreds of my brothers! Children! Wives!” He screamed at her and rushed to the bed, lowering his face to hers. “He killed over a hundred men in one night! Good men!”

Rebecca tried to draw her head away before she realized she was still lying down, cuffed to the bed, not floating on a cloud. “But why? He wouldn’t kill anyone that didn’t…”

“That didn’t what?” His voice was soft, menacing. “Deserve it? You are evil; your whole society is steeped in it. You’re all weak and corrupted. You gorge yourself on pleasure with no thought to what is right! You are the ones that deserve to die.”

“If we’re all going to hell anyway, why do you care?” Rebecca
really
wished she hadn’t said that.

The man didn’t respond though, and the anger drained from his face as he straightened and returned to stand by the chair. He took another long drink of water. Rebecca licked her lips and watched the condensation on the water bottle drip onto his creepily slender fingers.

He finished the water and crushed the bottle. “You are obviously not thirsty yet.” He turned back to her and smiled ominously. “I will return in a few hours. Perhaps you’ll desire water then, hmm?” He picked up another bottle of water that Rebecca hadn’t noticed sitting beside the chair. “Until then, allow this to…shall we say, encourage you.” He put the bottle on the table, less than a foot from her head and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Rebecca stared at the water, licking her lips over and over until they were chapped. What did he want her to say? She had no way to call Major. She didn’t know where he spent his time or what he did. She felt tears behind her eyelids, but none fell. Rebecca assumed her body had finally realized there were none to spare. Guttural sobs escaped her throat as reality finally set in: she was going to die. Because Major would not come for her.
One life for many.

But she didn’t want it to be her life or his. Rebecca wanted it to be the life of a stranger, someone she didn’t know. It was easier that way. It was impressive and heroic when it was someone else. When it was her…it was scary and pitiful.

Rebecca catalogued her life, searching for anything good. Any good memory to hold onto. She discarded the first eighteen years as hopeless and focused instead on the new life she’d started when she moved to Virginia. Meeting Tara in college; graduating; teaching; finding her friends, Callie and Sara; watching her friends fall in love; falling into almost-love herself. Major. Rebecca called up an image of his haunted eyes, tried to focus on them. But all she could see was how much more shattered he’d be when he had to make a choice between her and his mission.
One life for many.
She knew what he’d choose, knew that it would be one more demon to lurk inside of him for the rest of his life. And she hated that. Rebecca didn’t want to be another pain Major kept tucked away, eating him from the inside out. She wanted to be his good memory, the way he was hers.

* * * *

Chris cursed a blue streak all the way to Berkeley Springs, West—by God—Virginia. He got a call every half hour for the first half of the trip before the curt jackass on the other end finally gave him a solid address. Four-and-a-half fucking hours, because the nosy redhead couldn’t follow one simple piece of advice. Martinez sat beside him, silently listening to Chris rant and rave as they made the drive.

“Who the hell is fucking stupid enough to get involved with a Black Ops soldier? And where the hell did he get five semi-automatic rifles on such short notice?” Chris glanced over at Martinez, who sat staring out the window. “And did you see how many rounds there were? Seven fucking ammo cases? Full! Why the hell isn’t someone investigating
that?
I’m telling you Martinez, sometimes I think there’s more to be worried about right here at home than there is overseas. And no one thinks gun control is a good idea. Seven cases. Damn.”