The Mogul (Necessary Lies Book 2) (26 page)

T
en hours ago
…

S
pencer knocked
on the door and beckoned for Piper, but he got no reply. He motioned for Apolinar to force entry, and Monte wrapped me up from behind. I made no effort to resist during the exchange, hoping to lull everyone into letting their guard down. The bleeding was already draining my strength, so I wanted to conserve what I had left for a final burst.

With two kicks, Spencer’s man was inside, and after a brief struggle he emerged holding a terrified Piper. She shrieked at the sight of my blood. I locked eyes with her and tried to send her some sort of telepathic message of calm and bravery. Spencer put his arm around Piper’s shoulders and spoke to her in his smarmy tone, trying to sound tough despite the obvious pain in his jaw.

“This is who you were counting on to protect you? This? You poor thing. Anyway, he couldn’t save you, but maybe you can save him. All you have to do is get down on your knees and beg. Beg me not to kill him. And I’ll consider it. While you’re down there, I’m sure you can figure out a way to convince me. I mean
really
convince me. You’re a clever girl. And a pretty one. I’m sure you’ll think of something. But don’t forget, you may have to convince these gentlemen as well, and they may require you to go the extra mile.”

Spencer was pushing my buttons and reveling in it. My eyes met Piper’s again and I shook my head slowly from side to side. I wouldn’t allow her to ask anything of Spencer Cameron, let alone beg or subject herself to any of his vile fantasies. I didn’t want her in the crossfire, but I’d had enough.

I stomped down on the giant’s foot, raking his shin with my heel as I did so and I jumped as high as I could, my skull smashing into his chin. His grip loosened enough that I was able to spring toward Apolinar, and before he could react I kicked his stomach and as he bent forward captured his head between my arm and right side. With all my might I yanked backwards, and immediately the life left his body. At the first sign of my resistance, Spencer had backed out of the room with Piper, leaving me alone with Monte.

He rushed me again as before, his sheer bulk overpowering me and sending me crashing into the wall. I landed near his partner and noticed the knife I’d lent to Piper in a sheath on his boot. Before Monte could react, I snatched and threw it, and from such short range against a target so massive, I made no mistake. The steel sunk into his right eye and dropped him instantly. He was a screaming, gurgling mess, but his pain was short-lived. I cut his throat and approached the door quietly, trying to assess what might await me on the other side.

Hearing nothing, I opened it slowly. Spencer and Piper sat at a table in the main cabin with two other men, pale, bookworm types. Congressional aides of some sort, I surmised.

“Piper. Now!” I barked. One of Spencer’s terrified aides lost control of his bladder, but remained seated.

Spencer shook his head in disbelief and tossed back a shot of what looked like whiskey. “Let’s think this through, Atlas. Come sit and have a drink. You’re assaulted a Congressman and, I’m guessing, murdered two men just now. What does killing the rest of us gain you?”

“A clean conscience,” I stated, flatly.

“Be that as it may, wherever and whenever you land, they’ll take you into custody. And you’ll be held accountable for this mess. You and Piper here might just get mixed up in it as well. Or, I can work it all out so you two walk away. Just sit back and relax and we’ll land in D.C. and you two will get in a limo and we’ll never see each other again.”

“Except when you run for President, right? And Piper has to see your face all over the place. No. That’s not happening. This ends now. You end right now. I’ll worry about D.C. when we get there.”

“I’m sorry that the two of you ever got mixed up with this psychopath, I truly I am,” I addressed Spencer’s aides. “But you’re collateral damage. I care about one person on this plane, and that’s her.” I pointed at Piper.

Spencer, in his madman’s hubris, seemed shocked that I wasn’t willing to forgive and forget. I wanted badly to flip the table over and yank him out of his chair, but it was bolted down and I doubted at my best that I could move it. Instead, I appealed to Spencer’s arrogance.

“I’m a man of my word, right Spencer? ‘Noble Atlas,’ you called me. I’ll stand here and give you three free shots. Come on, show some honor, you’re a fucking SEAL. You get three shots to put me down. I won’t resist. I’ve had the shit kicked out of me, I’m bleeding all over the place, it shouldn’t be hard for you. You like beating up women, try a man for a change. Three freebies. Be a man. Knock me out, if you can. Impress your buddies here. And just imagine, Piper will probably swoon. Or has your impotence spread to your fists?”

Rage boiled in Spencer’s eyes. He knew what my word meant to me. I’d give him exactly what I promised. And his conceit was such that when I mentioned his impotence in front of his two subordinates and Piper, he couldn’t resist. He rose and strode over to me, fists balled. “I’m going to knock you out, fuck your girlfriend, and be in my apartment tonight with a Georgetown coed and a bottle of 1985 Latour, Titan.”

He swung three times, rapid-fire. A left to the jaw, a right to my midsection, and a right to the temple. They landed heavily, but I was beyond pain. When he finished, I rubbed my jaw and spit blood. We locked up in a grappler’s embrace, vying for leverage. I spun him over my hip and to the floor, cranking his arm back as he scrambled for my legs. I twisted until I felt something snap, all the while he punched at the bleeding wound on my thigh. I reached my feet first and drove a knee into his jaw and felt the fight drain away. He scrambled back into the bedroom, but there was nowhere he could hide.

T
en hours ago
…

I
watched
Spencer Cameron crawl back through the door with Atlas in pursuit, and then the door slammed behind them. We heard a crash and moments later Atlas emerged, stone-faced, carrying a backpack he tossed to the side.

“Leave your phones and all your devices on the table. Go back there. Don’t come out until we land. You stay here with me. I need you.” Spencer’s aides nodded frantically, emptying their pockets. The taller of the two rushed to the bedroom, making a wailing sound at what he discovered behind the door. The shorter man stood idly by, awaiting further instruction.

Atlas turned to me, concern on his face. “Are you alright?”

I nodded and felt tears on my cheeks.

“This isn’t over. The pilot, Malcolm, is as guilty and dangerous as the rest of them. I’ll deal with him. You don’t go back into that bedroom, understand?”

I nodded again. “But don’t we need him to fly the plane?”

“Piper, I had my pilot’s license at fourteen. I don’t have much time in this type, but I can handle it. You’re safe now. Trust me.”

With that, he kissed my forehead and then my lips and strode toward the cockpit door, motioning for Spencer’s aide to join him. Atlas whispered in the man’s ear and stood back.

The man rapped his knuckles on the door, calling out to Malcolm. “Sir, Mr. Cameron needs you back here, right away.”

Atlas pushed him aside and waited at the door for Malcolm to emerge. As he crossed the threshold, Atlas crushed him with an overhand right, sending him crashing to the floor. Atlas smothered him immediately, a forearm on his throat.

“Zarah. Is she safe?” Atlas’s face was an inch from Malcolm’s, which was a mask of surprise and not a small amount of fear.

“Really? Right in front of your girlfriend you ask about another woman?”

There was an almost imperceptible shift in their positions as Malcolm tried some sort of escape, but Atlas was having none of it and slammed the downed man’s head onto the floor.

“Don’t waste the few breaths you have left by trying to goad me into a mistake. You picked the wrong side in a war. It happens. Won’t happen again for you, but you aren’t the first, won’t be the last. Now then. Zarah.”

“She’s as fucked as you are,” Malcolm raised an eyebrow in my direction. The fear I’d felt when I boarded the plane was gone, replaced by blinding rage. I rose and walked over to where Atlas had Malcolm pinned and I kicked, as hard as I could, right into Malcolm’s exposed crotch. I’m not sure who the move took more by surprise, Atlas or Malcolm, but there was no doubt who it hurt more. Malcolm looked like he might vomit and his face turned a shade of red I’d never seen before.

Atlas pulled Malcolm to his unsteady feet and got him in some sort of a chokehold, walking him to the back of the plane.

“Get in there!” He barked at Spencer’s assistant, who meekly followed the order.

“Piper, sit down and put on a seatbelt. I’ll be right back. Autopilot will keep us in the air, but we might hit turbulence.”

With that, all three men disappeared into the bedroom and I sat down, grabbing a nearby bottle of whiskey and chugging a mouthful, and once the burn passed, another, larger one.

P
resent-Day
…

W
e drove through Augusta
, the sun shining down through the windshield onto Piper’s bare feet that were up on the dash. If we didn’t have an appointment, I’d have had no choice but to find a barn somewhere we could park behind so I could devour her. Every inch of her body turned me on. Instead, I settled for holding her hand, letting Siri, on Paul Porter’s new iPhone, guide us to our destination.

Odin arranged for us to meet a Mr. Marlin Hubbard in Shady Dale, Georgia, midway between Atlanta and Augusta. As the highway gave way to a county road and then a dirt road, the bumpiness woke Piper from a light nap.

“Where are we? What’s going on?” she asked, her voice sweet and sleepy.

“We’re going to meet our four new best friends. You’ll see. I don’t want to spoil it for you,” I explained, giving her hand a squeeze and bringing it to my face where I covered it with kisses.

We rounded a bend and pulled up at the fence outside a sprawling compound with trailers, outbuildings, barns, shipping containers, and animal pens haphazardly strewn about.

Shortly, a golf cart driven by a heavy-set man wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a white ponytail arrived at the gate.

“You Porter?” he asked.

“If you’re Hubbard,” I replied.

“Follow me and park in the gravel over by the barn with the green roof.” His Georgia twang was so thick I could barely make it out. Piper looked at me with some concern, eyeing the shotgun hanging on the back of the cart, and we both shrugged and got back in our SUV.

Our host motioned for us to follow him around behind the barn to where four enormous dogs lounged in the shade. He gave some gruff, unintelligible commands, and the dogs came to attention, sitting up in a way that reminded me of inspection during my military days.

“Let ‘em smell y’all. Walk right up, don’t be bashful, ma’am.”

My “wife” and I approached the creatures who looked more wolf than dog, black and gray coats with steely eyes. Piper seemed hesitant, but the dogs were completely docile, sniffing and gently licking our hands.

“They’ll handle the cold, just like I told Mr. Nickle. You won’t find better animals at any price. Keep ‘em fed and exercised and they’ll rip anybody to shreds who means to do you harm,” Marlin Hubbard explained.

“And they’ll know us? Just like this?” I asked.

“Mr. Porter, let me explain something to you. You want potatoes? Go to Idaho. The best whiskey? Tennessee. But if you want dogs to keep you and your young bride from any Earthly harm? Then you come to Shady Dale, Georgia, and you see Marlin Hubbard. Savvy?”

“Yes, sir. And Mr. Nickle is handling payment and transport?”

“They’ll be where you need ‘em when you need ‘em. This here’s VZ. He’s the alpha.” Hubbard grabbed the largest dog by the snout, lifting its top lip to reveal a menacing set of teeth. “The others are Ronnie, Stevie, and Johnny.”

“VZ?” I asked, and Piper laughed.

“Van Zant. As in Lynyrd Skynyrd. Am I right?” she asked.

“I’ll be damned. That’s a keeper right there, Mr. Porter.” Marlin Hubbard smiled for the first time since we’d arrived, evidently impressed by more than just Piper’s ass, which he’d been ogling since we parked the truck and she got out.

We said our goodbyes and got back on the road, and as I expected, Piper had questions. I was happy to answer them.

“Those dogs are a layer of security. Where we’re going, we’ll be pretty isolated. But there’s no system that can’t be hacked, no cameras or alarms that can’t be defeated. Those dogs, however, are the best money can buy. They’re hybrids. A good friend of mine, a guy I went through SEAL school with, is named Barrett Evers. His brother, Durham, lives in Atlanta. Odin has been working with Durham to get us spirited away. We’ve been using the whole Six Degrees thing, brothers and assistants, to obscure what Barrett’s been doing to help, just in case of prying eyes.”

She seemed satisfied with that, but she was dying to know what the endgame was, where we’d be going.

“Did the guy with the dogs say something about cold weather?” she asked.

“He did. Ever been to Alaska?”

P
revious Day

A
tlas wasn’t long
in returning to me, but his mood seemed somber. He was all business, and my few attempts at conversation were rebuffed. Whatever happened in that bedroom saddened him. I had to remind myself that just a few short days ago, when I’d first met Malcolm, he’d been introduced to me as a close friend of Atlas’s. The betrayal and the evident finality of whatever occurred in the back of the plane had hurt Atlas deeply.

“Have you ever gone skydiving?” he asked as we sat in the cockpit.

The idea was on my bucket list, but I hadn’t yet built up the courage. I shook my head.

“I have a parachute. We’re going to jump out of this plane. I’m going to crash it and hope that any evidence of us having been here will wind up on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. I’ll get us rescued and we’ll have to count on Odin to figure it out from there. It won’t be long now, let’s go over the parachute.”

With that, we went back into the main cabin and Atlas explained how he’d hold me and what I had to do. I looked out the window and down at the water below, the sun had risen enough to make the vast blue water visible again, and I burst into tears. Everything caught up with me at once.

Atlas picked me up in his muscular embrace, holding me and kissing my head. “You can do this, Piper. All the shit that you’ve been through these past few days and weeks since you met that scumbag will be in a watery grave and you can move on with your life.”

I was reassured more by his powerful arms and deep voice than his words. I didn’t want to move on with “my” life. I hoped to move on with “our” life.

But this was an Atlas back in “soldier mode,” where the mission and the precision with which it was carried out determined whether we’d live or die.

Once my mini-panic attack passed, Atlas returned to the cockpit. The plane jerked hard to the left and then made a strange rumbling sound before the ride got very bumpy.

He returned to me wearing the parachute. “It’s almost time. I’ll be holding you the whole way. Stay as close to me as you can and pull the cord like I showed you when I tell you to. Everything will be fine. This plane is going down, but we’ll be clear of it. When we hit the water we’ll probably become separated. Try not to get tangled up in the chute, I’ll ditch it as quickly as I can and get back to you. I know you can do this. Look into my eyes, Piper. I
know
it. Swim like hell to me and we’ll stay together. There’s a weather buoy down there, I’ll get us as close to it as I can. I know it seems impossible out in the middle of all that blue, but it’s out there. The weather is cooperating so far, hopefully it’ll stay that way. Ready?”

I inhaled deeply and nodded my head, balling my hands into fists to make them stop shaking.

Atlas took my face in his hands and kissed me as deeply as I’d ever been kissed, then wrapped his arm around my waist.

“Nothing can make me let go of you. You know that, right? Nothing.”

I nodded and forced a smile. Atlas popped the emergency door and suddenly we were flying.

The wind whipped our clothing wildly and I kept my eyes pressed as tightly shut as I did as a little girl when I could have sworn I heard a sound in my closet in the middle of the night.

The drone of the plane’s engines grew faint as we dropped like a stone toward what seemed like certain death to me. My frozen panic was broken by the voice of Atlas in my ear. “Pull! Do it now!”

I forced my eyes open and fumbled for the ripcord, only getting a firm grip after what seemed like several minutes had passed, and I pulled with all my might. My stomach fell through the soles of my feet as our free fall ended and we seemed to fly right back up from whence we came.

Our controlled descent wasn’t nearly as peaceful as movies had led me to believe, but it definitely beat the “dropping like a stone” portion of our trip. As we rehearsed, I wrapped my arms around Atlas’s waist and his legs encircled me as he held the chute to guide us toward where he thought the buoy must be.

Hitting the water was altogether unpleasant. It jolted my back and my lungs felt emptied of all their precious oxygen. I bobbed to the surface to the voice of Atlas over the water.

“Deep breaths, Piper! Take deep breaths! Breathe and swim to my voice.”

I followed the plan Atlas laid out upstairs, laying on my back and taking the deepest breaths I could. The panic was gone, replaced by determination. Who did the Atlantic Ocean think she was, separating me from my man?

I kicked and kicked, following his voice, and before long we were reunited. We took inventory of our extremities and found ourselves undamaged by the jump. Atlas surveyed the sky and we watched the plane descend, on fire as it hit the water.

We were alone in what seemed like an endless, rolling carpet of blue, the horizon unbroken in any direction save for the plume of smoke rising from where the plane crashed.

Atlas led our swim, the longest I’d ever done in one shot, especially in open water. With him urging me on, I felt like a mermaid cutting through the water.

Exhausted and freezing, we finally arrived at the buoy.