A Touch of Deceit (Nick Bracco Series #1) (48 page)

Kelly dropped his head in anguish.

Nick fixated on the red numbers tumbling toward the inevitable.

When the number three flashed it appeared to stutter. Nick couldn’t be certain, but it seemed to take a moment before the number two hiccupped to life.

Steele gasped as the number two hung there, suspended in time. Three seconds had passed, four seconds, five seconds, and yet the number two remained frozen. Its neon edges crackled with an ominous foreshadow. Rutherford seemed paralyzed. He held the handful of wires against the batteries pole, his mouth pursed shut, his nostrils sucking in air.

Then, an eerie darkness fell over the room. The TV and the lamp on the desk became the only sources of light. The stream of headlights had extinguished in unison, leaving everyone in shadows. Nick stared at the dim number two for an exhaustive minute of pure agony until it too finally surrendered to the darkness, its neon tracing forever etched into Nick’s brain like a phantom pain.

“Two seconds,” someone mocked.

A nervous chuckle.

A stifled snicker.

Jennifer Steele giggled.

Nick would always remember Matt’s face still staring down at the impotent timer, not ready to pronounce it dead. When their eyes finally met, Matt had Steele tucked into his shoulder for a relief cry. He winked at Nick.

A smattering of applause began to bubble into a cheer. Starting as a whisper the Marines began to chant, “USA . . . USA.” In only seconds the entire basement swelled into a cry that would make an Olympic Stadium jealous. “USA! USA!”

Carl Rutherford was a statue. His hand was still frozen to the battery like he had his finger in the hole of a dike.

Nick waved at Rutherford. “It’s okay, Carl,” he yelled over the din. “It’s over.”

Rutherford slid to the floor. His entire body sagged from the release of tension.

Suddenly, Nick felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He stepped into the adjacent room to escape the noise. A smile broadened his face as he anticipated President Merrick calling to congratulate him.

He pushed the button and put the phone to his ear, “Bracco.”

The voice that came back at him seared a hole in his gut as if he’d swallowed a capful of pure acid.

“Remember me?” Kemel Kharrazi said.

The cheering and excitement of the night spilled into the communications room where Nick stood alone, his right hand pressed to his ear, straining to hear the phone. Kharrazi must have heard the commotion.

“There is some reason for enthusiasm?” Kharrazi said.

There was a pause while Nick considered where Kharrazi was calling from. He heard the sound of a car engine, something large, like a pickup truck. Kharrazi was on the move as he spoke. He hadn’t heard the news about the detonator though and this little piece of knowledge gave Nick the slightest advantage.

“The guys are throwing a little party,” Nick said. “Why don’t you stop by and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“What is there to celebrate?”

“It’s Friday night.”

Kharrazi didn’t seem to appreciate the coyness. There was silence while they played cat and mouse. Nick relished the quiet, but every minute that passed put more distance between him and Kharrazi. He shut his eyes tight and listened carefully, using all of his skills to garner any clue as to Kharrazi’s location. He could hear the suspension of the vehicle jostle continuously, suggesting that Kharrazi was not driving on a paved road.

Kharrazi must have seen little benefit with the one-sided discussion. “I just called to say goodbye. I’m sorry I missed your little invasion.”

“The White House is still standing,” Nick said, trying to prolong the conversation.

There was a pause while Kharrazi dealt with the blow. “That is the reason for all the noise?”

“Yes.”

Kharrazi was quiet. He was probably calculating exactly how overdue the missiles were.

“We disarmed the detonater,” Nick informed him. “There will be no fireworks tonight.”

“Do not confuse this fact with success, Mr. Bracco. Americans will still die tonight. The attacks are not finished. And neither am I.”

“Uh huh.”

“We are still very much alive and well.”

“Who are you kidding, Kemel? Our count has your little group of terrorists down to sixteen. Tansu is dead and we have Hasan. What’s left are bottom of the barrel flunkies. Without you to guide them, their biggest accomplishment will include letting air out of tires and pouring sugar in gas tanks.”

“What makes you think I won’t be there to guide them?”

“Because I’m going to find you first.”

“Mr. Bracco, such bravado for a desperate man. You sound like another gentleman I met tonight. His name was Silk.”

Nick’s eyes popped open. With everything that had happened he’d lost track of Silk. If Kharrazi was still alive, that only meant one thing.

“He cried for mercy like a little baby,” Kharrazi beamed. “Groveled right up until his last breath. Of course I made certain he suffered greatly.”

Nick felt bile surge from his stomach. He swallowed several times to maintain control.

“I thought you would come yourself,” Kharrazi said, “but perhaps you don’t have the constitution for such a confrontation.”

Nick had sent Silk on a suicide mission and Kharrazi was going to layer the guilt like a third coat of paint. He’d exposed a nerve that Nick knew would always remain raw. Nick strangled the phone so tight, his fingers were cramping. “I’m going to kill you, you son of a bitch.” Nick said. “I’m going to find you and rip your heart out of your chest.”

“There, there, Mr Bracco. I think you’re losing your temper.”

Nick’s throat was tightening up so much it was hard for him to take a normal breath.

Kharrazi’s voice came smiling over the airwaves, “This is just the beginning, Mr. Bracco. You and your family will never be safe again. I‘ll make it my eternal quest.”

And right there Nick knew he was right. Nick would either have to find him, or have Julie wrapped up in a safe house the rest of her life. His clenched jaw began to ache.

Suddenly, Matt was beside him holding the GPS monitor and pointing to the screen. Nick saw a green dot slowly blinking right to left across the LED display.

Nick tried to remember where he’d left the locater. The last time he’d seen it Silk had planted it on the Sheriff’s truck. He’d told Silk to remove the miniature locater, but he didn’t remember Silk giving it back to him.

“Are you there?” Kharrazi asked.

Nick barely heard him. His mind raced. He remembered Silk’s last comment. “I screw up, you gotta track this guy down and finish him off for me.” Silk must have kept the device so Nick could track him. Silk had known he wouldn’t come back, and in the deep recesses of his mind, so did Nick. He chewed on his lip and forced himself to keep it together. He needed to draw information from Kharrazi.

“Where is Silk now?” Nick forced out.

Nick sensed Matt go rigid with the question. Nick held up a hand to calm him.

“Precisely where I encountered him. His body is spread out a bit, though, a finger here, an ear there. I would not look with both eyes open unless you had to.”

Nick cringed. His stomach went through acute spasms. He learned something, however. Kharrazi didn’t have Silk with him, so it wasn’t Silk who was moving across the display. Nick examined the GPS screen again and suddenly realized who he was looking at. Somehow, Silk had managed to plant the device on Kharrazi. And Kharrazi wasn’t aware.

“Where are you going?” Nick asked, trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement.

“I believe I’ll go visit another relative of yours. See how many pieces I can make with that corpse.”

Why was Kharrazi goading him? What was Kharrazi doing wasting time like this? It was just like the balloon filled with harmless powder. Kharrazi was utilizing every minute, stalling Nick for even the tiniest delay. He was close to his escape and if Nick didn’t leave soon, Kharrazi would disappear into the night like he’d done countless times before.

“By the way, how is your wife?” Kharrazi jabbed.

“Fuck you!” Nick exploded and threw the cell phone against the cement wall, shattering it into pieces as if it were glass. Matt watched. The celebration in the next room didn’t skip a beat.

Nick found himself panting. He sucked in small doses of air and wiped moisture from his brow.

Matt held up the GPS device. “Who is this?”

Over Matt’s shoulder, Nick saw Jennifer Steele peeking out of the doorway. Matt turned and waved for her to go back.

“No,” Nick said. He gestured to Steele. “Come here.”

Steele approached warily. “What’s going on?”

“How familiar are you with the surrounding area?” Nick asked.

“Very,” Steele said. “There’s a path I take to run every morning that goes right through here.”

“Good,” Nick said, spreading out the satellite photos on the same end table he’d used with Silk. He opened his hand and Matt handed him the GPS device. Nick pushed a button and activated the longitude-latitude grid which sprang to life around the border of the screen. He put his finger on the photo that matched the exact plotting on the GPS screen.

“Do you know where this is, compared to where we are?” Nick asked Steele.

“Yes. It’s approximately five miles from here.”

“What’s over there?”

Steele thought about it for a moment. “Not much. There’s a dirt road that meanders through that way, but other than that—”

“Where does the road go?” Nick said, urgency in his voice.

“Who is it, Nick?” Matt said. “Who is the GPS tracking?”

Nick couldn’t do what he wanted without Matt and Steele. He either came clean or spent too much time fighting their inquisitions. He looked at his partner. “Silk is dead.”

“What?”

“Kharrazi killed him. Somehow Silk slipped the tracking chip on Kharrazi before he died.”

Matt stared at the device. “That son of a bitch.” Then a surprised smile came across his face. “We’ve got him. We’ve got the bastard. Let’s get McKenna and—”

“No,” Nick said. “I’ve got him. I’m going after him. Alone.”

“The fuck you are,” Matt said. “We’ve got an entire squad of Marines, helicopters, and FBI agents. We’ve got him cold.”

“I sent Silk after Kharrazi and got him killed. Kharrazi is my responsibility. I need to finish this.”

“You’re not talking rational, partner. I’m not letting you go after Kharrazi alone. It’s suicide.”

Nick clenched his fists. “If you don’t let me go, I might as well eat a bullet right now.”

Matt grabbed Nick’s shoulders and shook him. “Nick.”

Nick stood firm. Every muscle flexed into a taut bulge.

Matt studied the intensity in his partner’s face and sighed. “All right. I’ll give you five minutes head start, then I’m sending the dogs after him. You understand? Five minutes.”

Steele said nothing. She seemed grateful that Matt wasn’t going with him.

Nick let out a breath, then murmured, “Thanks.”

Steele placed her finger on the photo, just below a narrow streak of brown. “This is where he’s going.”

“What is it?” Nick asked.

“It’s an old dirt airfield. Firefighters use it to fly up their gear from Phoenix. It’s strategically positioned close to some danger zones this side of the mountain.”

Matt looked at Nick. “He makes it there before you do, we’ll lose him for sure. That GPS will only work if we’re close.”

Nick nodded. “I know.”

“There’s an unmarked road not a half mile from here,” Steele said. “The trees are thick and there’s barely enough room for one vehicle, but I can show you how to get ahead of him. It’ll get you to the southern part of that strip. He’ll be coming from the east.” Steele fished the keys from her jeans pocket. “Here, take my truck. You leave right now and you’ll have a chance.”

“Show me,” Nick said.

Nick dug out the compass from his duffle bag and hustled out to Steele’s truck with her and Matt. Steele pointed to a narrow opening in the woods and gave Nick the direction he would find the unmarked trail. Nick gave Matt a quick nod, then started the truck and pulled out before anyone could change their mind. Behind him, he heard Matt say, “Five minutes.”

The GPS device jumped on the bench seat next to Nick as he traversed the side of the mountain in Steele’s truck. He could still see Kharrazi’s green dot blinking steady on the screen. Nick’s headlights barely kept up as he navigated between tree trunks and heavy undergrowth. He had the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something.

Nick tore open an aluminum pouch with his teeth and slapped an adhesive microchip on the dashboard. He pushed a button on the GPS system and a second dot came to life on the display. This one was red. It allowed him to see where he was in comparison to Kharrazi. He was driving too far to the west and he steered more toward an intersecting route to the east.