Chapter Nine #2
She ran her thumb over the smart ring. Kirk had given it to her last year to keep tabs on her.
He claimed it was in case the cartel tried to get rid of her, but she thought he was worried she might disappear.
Not at the hands of the cartel. That she would reach her breaking point and simply vanish.
The thought had crossed her mind more than once.
The ring was a next-gen prototype with a robust GPS tracker.
Kirk had pulled strings and gotten it linked to a common smart ring app in case anyone checked her phone.
It would look like any other. Only better.
She took advantage of the ring’s other features, for fitness, stress management and wellness.
Whether it was still functional after her plunge in the river she didn’t know. It was supposed to be waterproof.
She powered on the cell. Thankfully it wasn’t a rudimentary flip phone sans web browser or unbridled app store, but a smart device. Now she crossed her fingers for a signal out here in the boonies.
Bars popped up.
They weren’t in the middle of nowhere after all, and she was in business. She found the app she needed, downloaded it, logged in. Then she waited to see if it synced with the ring.
The screen read, Searching, as wavy dots flashed.
If it worked, would it be enough to convince Jackson that she wanted the same thing as him? Running, leaving him to deal with the fallout of fleeing with her, wasn’t an option. She was going to see this through to the end.
But this was a baby step.
He might need a giant leap, like proof that the depots were legit. Then what?
His plan was to haul her into the FBI facility in Salt Lake City, where she’d have to fend for herself. Where the Reaper would get her.
The app beeped. Pairing with the smart ring was complete.
She closed the app and stared at the phone icon on the screen.
Maybe calling Ripton wasn’t a bad idea. He was smart and had resources and was family.
Her brother, though not by blood. He’d taught her how to protect herself, made her dad stop beating her and dug into the problem.
Got her father counseling. Got him sober.
Changed him and her life for the better.
Only for her to get her father killed.
And most of the Iron Warriors.
Could she deliberately endanger another person she cared about to save herself?
Cutthroat Creek
Friday, April 13, 8:38 p.m.
THE LONGER JACKSON stood staring at the sky, the more tired he became. He was running on fumes, but he had work to do.
He strode back through the camp. At the tent, he noticed she had zipped the front flap. He considered knocking. Not that there was a door. He pulled the zipper up and stepped inside.
Standing by one of the lanterns, Christina looked at him and stilled. Her face was a blank mask. The burner phone was in her hand.
He flicked a glance at the duffel bag next to her sleeping bag. It was open. Then he stared at her. And at the phone. “Who did you call?”
“No one,” she said, her voice a fragile whisper.
The sinking sensation of doubt crept back in. He snatched the cell phone from her hand. “Who did you text?”
“No one. Just let me explain.”
“You mean give you a chance to redirect me. You’re really good at that.” He tapped the phone icon. No calls. “Tell me who you contacted before I find out on my own.”
“It doesn’t matter what I say, you won’t trust me. Will you?”
“You keep giving me reasons not to.” It was two steps forward with her and then three steps backward.
“Alice’s seventh commandment. There’s a thin line between paranoia and vigilance. If you can’t tell the difference, then you’ll either alienate allies or end up dead in a ditch.”
Ignoring her efforts to sidetrack him yet again, he checked the texts. No messages sent either. But both could’ve been deleted. A common tactic spies used.
“Put yourself in my position,” he said. “I’m risking my career. I fled with you. I’m aiding and abetting here. Because your boyfriend, a relentless assassin, is hell-bent on getting you back and I don’t want any more good officers to needlessly die by getting in his way.”
“You make it sound so romantic.” Rolling her eyes, she huffed. “One thing I can say about Alvaro, at least he never treated me like I was a dirty secret. Not the way you did.”
The words were a slap to his face and the blow stung.
“When you were cozied up with Aguilar, did he love you?” Regardless of her accusations, Jackson had cherished her.
Done his best to show her how special she was to him.
Though he was guilty of only doing it when they had been in private.
“Did your hit man boyfriend make you feel loved? Huh? Did he? I want to know.”
In a flash, all emotion drained from Christina’s face, replaced by a stony mask. “He, um.” She swallowed, making an audible noise. “He doesn’t know how to love.”
“What separates us from beasts isn’t our intelligence.
It’s our capacity to love. A man who can’t, who only kills, isn’t really a man.
He’s an animal. If that’s what you want, he’s welcome to have you.
After I’ve figured out how to raid those depots and you help me get as close as possible to Rio Estrada. I need to finish this mission.”