Elly's Ghost (11 page)

“What are you
doing?” she asked.

Jay didn’t
answer right away. He dug in his bag again, and then he said, “I have to leave
for a while.”

“What? No,
you’re not leaving.” Elly grabbed his arm. She thought of the two men who’d
nearly found them today, and the last thing she wanted was for Jay to leave her
right now.

Jay stopped
digging and looked at her. “Elly, I have to see what we’re up against.”

“You saw those
two men today. What more do you need to see?”

“There’s more than
two.”

“But—”

“If we’re going
to make it out of her alive, I need to go.”

Elly couldn’t
believe it. She loosened her grip, and he moved away.

Jay put on his
camouflage hat. “There is a highway that runs east and west about twenty miles
north of here. If, for some reason, I don’t come back by sunrise—”

“If for some
reason! What are you going to—”

Jay cut her off.
“If I don’t come back by sunrise, I want you to leave the tent, take only
enough water and food for one day, and don’t stop walking until you get there.
Keep the sun on your right in the morning and on your left in the afternoon. Do
you understand?”

Elly could only
respond with a slight nod.

“What’s your
middle name?” Jay asked.

“Joanna. After
my mother. Why?”

“Then our code word
is Joanna. If someone approaches this tent and the first word out of their
mouth isn’t Joanna, you’ll know it’s not me.” Jay handed Elly a small
pocketknife, and she stared down at it. “Conceal this in your hand. Pick your
moment, and stab the person in the neck. Then run as fast as you can.”

Elly lowered her
head. It made no sense to her that he was leaving.

“Hey,” he said,
hooking his finger under her chin until she locked eyes with him. “This is what
I was trained to do. Besides, they can’t see me. I’m a soldier in the United
States Marine Corps, which means I’m a ghost.” Jay smiled at Elly. “I’ll be
back soon.”

Jay zipped the
tent closed without a final good-bye. Elly opened the small canvas flap on the
screen window, but her ghost was already gone.

* * *

Nick closed the
door to his Ford Mustang and took his time surveying the nearly empty school parking
lot to make sure no one noticed him. Throwing his gym bag over his shoulder, he
headed for one of the many rear doors of his old high school. He unlocked the
door with a key he had kept from his days as the football team’s captain. Coach
had never asked for it back, and Nick didn’t offer it up. He checked over his
shoulder again to make sure no one saw him enter.

The weight room,
with its scattered dumbbells, hanging weight belts, mirrored walls, and strong
odor of sweat was just as Nick remembered it. He stretched and then jogged in
place, letting his arms hang loose, whipping them back and forth across his
chest, then up and down over his head and behind his back. Nick taped his
wrists and secured his boxing gloves in place. He stepped barefoot onto the mat
and approached his opponent, the large, faded black canvas bag hanging in the
corner. He delivered a right kick to the bag. The chain flexed as the bag swung
back, only to return for more of a beating as Nick let loose a barrage of
punches, each one harder than the previous. A sharp kick interrupted the
punching just long enough for Nick to take a breath before continuing with more
hooks and jabs. He danced around the bag as though he were dodging his
opponent. He’d dodge the opponent’s punch, then reach in and strike.

Elly’s face
popped into his head as he delivered another kick.

Did you know
every one of my customers asks me about you?
Nick heard himself say to her.

Nick jabbed with
his left and then knocked the bag back with his right.

My name isn’t
Nick anymore! It’s “Elly’s Brother”!

The bag jolted
to the side as Nick kicked it.

Do you know
every one of the guys I work with has seen naked pictures of you posted on the
Internet? Do you know every girl I’ve ever tried to date thinks I’m loaded, and
then they dump me the moment they find out I’m not? Do you know that?

Nick unleashed a
fury of left-right combinations, rattling the chain as the bag shook. He could
see Elly standing in front of him with her hand over her mouth. She stood there
taking his verbal abuse as tears streamed down her face.

You want to
know what’s wrong?

Nick kicked,
then unloaded on the bag again, alternating his fists with each strike. His
face contorted with rage as he put everything he had into swing after swing.

You ruined my
life, and you don’t even know it!

Nick wound up a
massive right hook and aimed for his own face, which he pictured yelling at
Elly. He swung at the idiot who was saying all of those horrible things. His
arms begged him to stop as he punched furiously at the fool who didn’t know his
sister would soon be dead. The jerk didn’t move or flinch—he just stood there
being a dumb-ass. Sweat mixed with tears stung his eyes. He continued pounding
the bag with left and right hooks.

Nick connected
one last time with a right hook and saw Elly in the mirror behind him, crying
as she watched her brother do this to himself. Nick turned around, but the room
was empty.

He stared at
himself in the mirror and then dropped his head as tears rolled down his face.
The only sounds were his heavy breathing and the buzz from the lights. His
knees buckled as he remembered his mom and dad reacting to the news that Elly’s
plane had crashed. He covered his face with his gloves and fell over on the
mat, unable to remember the last time he’d cried. Nick barely recognized the
reflection in the mirror looking back at him.

* * *

Elly stared at
the ceiling of the tent, clutching the closed pocketknife. The raindrops tapped
away at the tent, and the once-bright flashes seemed more distant. Thunder
rolled from one horizon over the top of her to the other again and again, like
ocean waves crashing to shore.

She felt like
hot coals were tumbling around inside her stomach and knew it was because she
hadn’t taken any pills since she shoved Jay. Elly had tried to quit before, but
it was always too painful. She was determined to never take Vicodin again, but
her burning abdomen kept it constantly on her mind. Her muscles ached, she was
sweating, and she wondered if she was going to throw up.

Elly’s ears
strained for any noise that didn’t belong, and it seemed like every thirty
seconds she quickly glanced in the direction of a new sound. She felt stupid
holding the knife, knowing it would be of little use if that man she’d seen with
the shotgun found her. She remembered watching him come over that hill with his
ugly face and sweaty shirt as she lay under the tree next to Jay. She shivered
at the thought of him, or any one of those men, coming anywhere near her. She
prayed Jay was okay. The thought of walking blindly without him to some distant
highway made her want to cry.

She stared at
the spot where Jay should be sleeping and knew she wasn’t going to be able to
fall asleep until he came back. She pushed out of her mind the thought of him
not returning, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

After losing his
parents and then going to Afghanistan, he had dealt with more than Elly could
imagine. She wondered which one caused his nightmares, or if it was a
combination of both. Elly remembered Jay saying that he’d only been back from Afghanistan a few days. She felt bad that Jay, of all people, had then been dropped into
this whole mess, yet Elly knew she might be dead if it hadn’t shown up when he
did. Jay had appeared out of thin air at the airport just like a ghost, and she
thought his Marine Corps description of himself as one seemed appropriate.

Elly turned her
thoughts to the admiration Jay had for his sister. After the helicopter flew
over, Jay had said, “There is one person who knew where I was going, and it’ll
be almost a week before he’ll know I’m missing.” Elly wondered why Jay hadn’t
told his sister where he was going. If it was true he’d just gotten back from Afghanistan, then did she even know he was home? Other than this one person, did anyone
else even know?

A clap of
thunder made Elly jump, and then the ground shook under her. Jay is out in
that, she thought, with more than just weather to watch for. She frowned at the
thought he might be in trouble. “Elly, stay calm,” she said, taking a deep
breath. “He’ll come back.”

* * *

Jay crouched
under a large tree as the steady rain shower continued. The mud on his face and
his dark green rain gear hid his six-foot frame well.

It took three
hours to find his target’s camp. The markers he’d programmed into his navigation
device as they hiked during the day led him right to them. Two canvas tents
were set up and well lit. Jay counted four men, two in each tent, their shadows
defined on the tent walls.

Jay knew five
people had attempted to take Elly at the airport. He was certain he’d killed
one and possibly another. Assuming the pilot of the helicopter wasn’t in either
of these tents, the total number of men involved was up to six.

“This weather
sucks,” Jay heard one of the men say in the tent closest to him.

“Think of the
payday,” the other man said. “Tomorrow, we get the girl, kill the guy helping
her, and then we’ll get the hell out of here. In no time we’ll all be
millionaires. You won’t be complaining about the weather when you’re lounging
on a warm beach somewhere.”

The shadow on
the tent wall showed a flask being passed from one man to the other.

“I’ll drink to
that,” the man said before taking another swig.

Jay knew that in
war, any group tracking you with the intent to kill was a threat that had to be
evaded or eliminated. With the close call he and Elly had earlier in the day,
Jay was done trying to evade them. He knew he’d been lucky to spot them first
and they weren’t messing around. He was certain they would kill him and take
Elly the first chance they got, and he wasn’t going to let that happen. Jay
knew Elly’s life was at stake, and that’s all that mattered to him.

As with any
mission, the hardest part was being patient, but in most situations patience
made the difference between life and death for a soldier. Jay had been trained
to move and kill in silence, but if things did go wrong, he had always relied
upon superior firepower and the ability to call for support. Now he had
neither.

Twenty minutes
later, Jay’s patience was rewarded when one of the tent flaps opened.

A man exited the
tent closest to Jay and closed the flap. Checking one last time to make sure only
one man was outside, Jay leaned his rifle against a tree and pulled out his
knife just as thunder rolled over the camp.

The man stopped,
facing a bush. Jay moved quickly and quietly as he approached from behind. Jay
thought about Elly and her dead bodyguard. He told himself this was an enemy
who was threatening both his and Elly’s lives, and he had to die.

Lightning
flashed in the distance as the man pushed his rain gear to the side and
unzipped his pants. In quick motions, Jay reached around the man’s head,
covered his mouth with his left hand, and drove his knife into the man’s
throat. The man collapsed onto the ground, and Jay lay on top of him until all life
left his enemy’s body.

Jay picked up
the man’s flashlight and went to retrieve his rifle. Then he walked back to the
tent, where he could see the outline of the dead man’s tentmate lying on the
ground. Based on the position of the man’s flashlight, his head was near the
door. Jay pulled the tent flap back and took a step in, shining the light in
the man’s eyes.

“Hey.” The man
put his hand up to block the light.

Jay drove his
boot into the man’s neck, snapping it. Jay was ready with his knife, but the
man was already dead.

A 9mm handgun
and a box of shells was in one of the backpacks. Thunder slowly rumbled off
into the distance. As it faded, Jay heard the door of the other tent zipping
shut. He glanced out the open tent door in time to see a man outside turn
toward him. He was using a flashlight to guide him toward the tent.

Jay kept his
back to the door. He slid out the clip of the 9mm and made sure it was loaded.
He slipped it back in, pulled back the top-loading mechanism, and turned off
the safety.

“Hey, Banks,” a
voice said, “can I get a cigarette?”

Jay turned and
fired three rounds at the man holding the light. Two bullets entered the man’s
stomach, and the third hit his chest. He spun sideways and dropped face-first
in the mud.

“Dexter!” Jay
heard the fourth and final man shout from in his tent. “What the hell is going
on?”

Jay was already back
to his original position at the edge of camp. He aimed his rifle.

“Banks!
Davidson!”

Jay could hear
the sound of a shotgun being cocked from inside the tent.

“Somebody answer
me!” The man waited in silence. “You’re a dead man, whoever you are!”

Jay waited as the
man turned off his light. From Jay’s position, the only way out for the man was
to exit the door facing him. He didn’t care how long he had to wait. The rain
intensified as Jay held his rifle, still aimed at the door.

“She’s worth
millions, man! We’ll split it with you!” the man shouted.

Jay knew what
the man was doing, but there was no way Jay was going to be tricked into saying
anything to give up his position.
Patience,
Jay reminded himself.    

“We’ll make a
deal!” The tone in the man’s voice had slowly changed from one of anger to one
of desperation.

“Come on, man!”