Chapter 6
Z sat beside her in the rain and recalled the conversation he’d had with Con as she spoke with her supervisor.
“Con.”
“I’ve been listening. She taking care of you?”
“Yeah, I'm alive. Barely.” His Australian accent thickened slightly, stress bleeding through. “I’m not making it north in three days.”
“You think I give a flying fuck about the schedule?” Con almost yelled at him. “I’m sending in the army. Every fucking asset we have.”
“No need right now,” he said, voice flat. “The primary target is still intact. I’ve only done one strip. It isn’t enough to get close to him, but I think she’s agency.”
“That would make sense. I have zero on her. Let me get the Mountain to start working their connections in that agency. But beyond that, you need to be pulled, and you need a doctor.”
“How do you know?”
“I have been listening!” Con yelled at him. Thank God the comms kept his voice at the same level no matter how loud he was.
“We’re going to fix up an old plane and get the hell out of here. Sending people would be useless. She’s damn good, Con. She’ll get us out of here.”
“What’s your actual status?”
“I’ve lost a lot of blood. Two straight to the chest, probably bruised ribs, could be broken. Leg wound and a gash under my arm. She’s removed the bullet and the debris. I’m fighting an infection.”
“Can you get to your safehouse?”
“I'm not an idiot, Con. I need seventy-two hours. Maybe less. If we can get it airborne, I can get us to the safehouse. You’ll have comms with me. Monitor everything. If I ever say my code name, you send in the fucking army. Otherwise, we move with the plan we have, delayed, but it makes the most sense.”
“I’ll run it by the upper crust,” Con said and sighed heavily. “Dude, I can’t lose you in some godforsaken jungle. I don’t have many friends, and I’d like to keep the ones I have.”
“Not going anywhere,” he said, but Con just sighed. “I’ve got to rest, man.”
“Stay alive, Z. Whatever it takes.”
“As long as it takes.” Z tapped his ear, glanced at the plane, and leaned against the wall.
When she came back, he could see the warring emotions in her eyes.
Whatever her handlers had told her didn’t sit well with her.
He closed his eyes and answered her simple questions.
He squeezed her hand when she told him she was tired.
For some reason, this woman felt safe to him.
That was dangerous, but at the moment, he didn’t give a fuck.
The small pleasure of being next to her shouldn’t even register, but it did, and fuck him if he didn’t want more of it.
She said she was tired of working alone.
He got it. That was why his team rarely worked alone.
The only reason he was in the jungle by himself was that everyone was on an assignment.
Rook would be the first to free up, and he was heading to Europe because he was Havoc’s backup.
When Phantom finished his assignment, he’d be hell on wheels and heading in Z’s direction.
He had people; she didn’t. Maybe he could be her people.
Wait, he couldn’t, could he? But he wanted to be.
He wanted that badly. Finally losing the fight with exhaustion, he let himself slip into a dream and fever-infested sleep.
The police interview room smelled of old sweat and disinfectant, the kind of sterile stink that the television shows couldn’t bring to life.
Levi Rourke sat barefoot, shirtless, dried blood crusted across one shoulder where shrapnel had grazed him.
His wrists were cuffed to the table. He drew a deep breath and relaxed.
The handcuffs weren’t of any consequence.
The air conditioner kicked on again. Levi glanced at the two-way mirror.
The two detectives who’d tried to question him earlier had given up.
They didn’t know what to do with a young man who’d blown up a drug lab with surgical precision, killed three members of a biker gang in the process, and then calmly walked out of the burning warehouse and sat on the curb to wait for police.
The door creaked open. Not a detective this time. A big man entered. The guy had broad shoulders, a quiet stride, and cold authority. A few strands of gray threaded through his dark hair, and his eyes were those of a predator. He carried no badge, no visible ID. Just presence.
“Name’s Lycos,” the man said, dragging a chair out and sitting across from him. “I’m not a cop. No badge, no alliance to your police force.”
“Obviously,” Levi muttered. “The next thing you’ll tell me is this isn’t being recorded.”
Lycos lifted his hand, and the light in the small room behind the two-way glass was turned on.
Another man, just as tall as Lycos, walked over to what appeared to be a recorder and pulled the thing from the shelf.
Wires hung dangling from the box. The man put the recorder on the table and walked out of the room. The door shut behind him.
“Rather dramatic, wasn’t that?” Levi turned to look at the man across from him.
Lycos studied him. Not the wounds. Not the cuffs. His eyes. He’d never had anyone look that deeply at him.
“You know why I’m here.”
Levi snorted. “You here to tell me I’m a monster? Well, I’m not.”
“Do you think you’re a hero?” Lycos asked.
“I don’t care what you think of me because your opinion, hell, anyone’s opinion of what I did doesn’t matter.”
Lycos didn’t blink. “I came to hear your story. In your words.”
Levi flexed his cuffed hands, metal scraping metal. “You already know it.”
“Humor me. No one else is listening, and as you can tell, I’m an American, and I have zero jurisdiction here.”
Levi stared at the man. Why the hell not?
The story would come out eventually. “I did what I did because of a fourteen-year-old kid I coach at the surf lifesaving club. He’s quiet.
A good kid. He wanted to join the Navy when he was older.
” His jaw tightened. The rage he felt made his hands shake in their cuffs.
“He told those bastards no when they tried to recruit him.”
“Bastards?”
Levi snarled. “A gang that works the area. They beat him for saying no. Left him in a storm drain.”
Lycos didn’t speak, and the silence settled like dust. Levi continued, “They broke his skull. Fractured his spine. Might not ever walk and he’s permanently changed.
” Levi let the tear of rage drop as he spoke with a low, deadly, and steady tone.
“So, I went to the lab. I warned them to leave town. Told them they had one chance.”
“And when they didn’t?” Lycos asked.
Levi leaned back. “I gave them the only justice they’d ever understand.”
“You used their own chemical stockpile,” Lycos said, not accusing, just stating. “You understood exactly how the blast would propagate.”
“Of course, I did. You think I’m stupid?
” Levi scoffed. “I shaped the charge so the roof would blow upward. Contained the lateral spread with steel barrels and wet sand. Kept the fire from jumping to the neighboring buildings.” His voice hardened.
“Killed the ones who deserved it. Made sure nobody else burned.”
Lycos watched him for a long moment. “People died, Levi.”
“Good,” Levi shot back without hesitation. “They earned it.”
“No remorse?” Lycos pressed.
“None.” Levi’s gaze was unwavering. “If you put me back in that warehouse with the same choice? I’d do it all again.” His voice dropped, gravel rough. “Some people don’t deserve to breathe the same air as the kids they hurt.”
Silence thickened between them.
Lycos cocked his head. “How did you learn to use explosives?”
Levi snorted. “Didn’t do your homework?”
“Yes, I did.” Lycos leaned forward. “Your uncle was a shotfirer, a licensed blaster in the Kalgoorlie gold fields. You lived with him and your aunt. You learned early. ANFO, det cord, electric versus non-electric detonation, and how to shape blasts. You’re damn good at it.
” Lycos finally sat back in his chair. “They’re going to charge you with multiple counts of manslaughter, reckless use of explosives, arson, destruction of property, and interfering with a criminal investigation. ”
Levi shrugged a single shoulder. “What criminal investigation?” He jerked his head toward the door, indicating the police. “They didn’t even question the fuckers.”
“All those charges, and you have an issue with the most inconsequential?”
Levi turned and stared at the man across from him. “For that boy, that investigation was the most important thing. When the cops couldn’t or wouldn’t follow the fucking facts, I knew nothing was going to be done. Justice needed to be served.”
Lycos’s mouth twitched. It wasn’t quite a smile, not quite approval, but something darker. “Tell me something, Rourke. When you set that blast, were you trying to martyr yourself?”
Levi’s laugh was low, humorless. “I wasn’t planning on walking away at all. I did my job too well.”
Lycos nodded as if that confirmed something he’d already suspected. “Your instincts are lethal. Calculated. Controlled. Not impulsive. You don’t strike out. You strike true.”
Levi’s head was starting to ache. This guy talked in puzzles. “Is that supposed to mean something?”
Lycos leaned forward, elbows on the table. “There’s an organization that deals with men like you.”
Levi arched a brow. “What, like anger management? No thanks, mate. I’d rather rage.”
“No,” Lycos said softly. “An organization that protects the innocent and eliminates threats the world pretends don’t exist. An organization where your skill with explosives and your …
clarity about justice could be used for something bigger than revenge.
Where you could be a berserker with that same righteous indignation and the knowledge that what you did made a difference. ”
Levi stared at him. “And if I say no?”