Dark Star (19 page)

“Goddamnit Tonya, stop it.”

“Deringer!” The familiar voice stopped her,
and she dropped the glass. It hit the floor and rolled harmlessly
under the bed. She switched on the lamp flooding the room with
light and peered up at him in vexation.

“Honestly, do you guys know any other way to
come into a girl’s room? What are you doing here anyway? You left
two weeks ago.” Tonya was cranky from being awakened in the middle
of the night. Again. This was getting ridiculous. Deringer didn’t
respond and something in his facial expression made the breath
stutter in her chest. Suddenly she was too scared to move. “What is
it? What’s wrong? Are they coming after me?”

“Nate’s not dead. Or at least we don’t think
he is.”

“What?” Joy flooded her system so quickly she
felt light headed and had to sit down on the bed. Only then did she
realize she was clad only in her panties and a tank top. Deringer
was being a perfect gentleman about it, but she grabbed her robe
from the chair next to her bed and wrapped it around herself.

“Look at this.” He took out his phone and
clicked on a few buttons. In a moment a video came on the screen.
The image was of a large house, set resplendently on a hilltop
surrounded by what appeared to be forest. Nothing happened for
several seconds, and then the house exploded in a spectacular
fireball. Deringer closed the phone and put it back into his
pocket.

“Uh, maybe I’m still asleep but I have no
idea how that proves he’s still alive,” Tonya said.

“That explosion is his signature. Did you see
how the small explosions went off around the perimeter, then three
big ones in the middle?”

“Yeah sure.” She hadn’t really paid that much
attention to the particulars, but it seemed important so she went
along with him.

“That’s what Nate called a butterball.”

“A butterball?”

“Yeah, he saves that one for the real
turkeys.”

Tonya couldn’t help but laugh. Vintage Nate.
It was impossible not to laugh at his crooked perspective on life.
So much about him had changed but that warped sense of humor was
still intact.

“We’re pretty sure that was the Rooster’s
headquarters,” he said softly. “We know Nate was taken there.”

“Okay, so Nate blew the dude up. Where is
he?”

Deringer shook his head. “That’s the problem.
We have no idea. I mean, we know he’s in Brazil, but it’s a big
country and a lot of it is backcountry and almost impossible to
navigate.”

“But surely you guys have a way to find
him.”

“We do, but there’s a problem,” he said.

“What? What is it? I’ve got money and I can
get more. As much as we need.”

“No. No, money isn’t the problem. That’s been
taken care of.” He frowned but didn’t elaborate. “We think the
Rooster is dead, but if he’s not, you’re in greater danger than
before. He’s been known to take revenge against those who cross
him.”

She knew where this was going. “I don’t care.
You’ve got to go find Nate.”

“I know that, but I’ve got to figure out what
do with you,” he continued over her attempt to interrupt. “There is
definitely a mole in the Department and we don’t trust anyone else
to take care of you. I’ve got to find someone -- ”

“There’s no time. I’ll hire some bodyguards
or something. You go after Nate.”

“You know regular bodyguards -- ”

“Hey, I hang out with rock stars and have a
shark for an agent. Surely between the two of them they can find
someone sufficiently badass to keep me alive. I’m not stupid. These
people’s level of craziness is world news every night. I won’t take
chances. You can lock me in my room for the duration if necessary,
but if you won’t go after Nate I will.”

Deringer bristled. “Nate’s right; you are
crazy. Have you ever even thought about using a gun before?”

“You mean besides right now?” she said with a
glare. He grinned in response. “Of course I have. I write
mysteries, you know.” He rolled his eyes in disgust. “Okay, I’m no
weapons expert, but I’ve got the perfect motivation now and if I
have to use a gun to go hunting the man I love I’ll do it in
nothing less than a heartbeat.”

He looked taken aback but didn’t pursue that
line of questioning any further. “Look, it won’t take long for me
to find someone who can -- ”

Tonya shook her head emphatically. “No. No.
No. I’m no expert but even I know that the longer he’s out there
the more dangerous it gets. I’ll take care of myself. You go find
Nate. If I have to go it’ll be even more risky because I haven’t
got a clue. I’m liable to get both of us killed and then some.”

Deringer opened his mouth to speak, but
closed it when Tonya shook her head again. With one final
frustrated look he finally conceded. Without uttering another word
he turned and left her room -- through the door this time, though
she had no idea how he’d entered in the first place.

She laid back on the bed, her thoughts
scurrying through her head as she tried to take in the fact that
Nate was alive. She sobered. Or at least he had been when that
house exploded, and who knows when that happened. Thinking back she
realized it had barely been three months since this little trip
down the rabbit hole had begun. Somehow it seemed much longer. But
if Nate was still alive -- she shook her head. Identification by
bomb-making ability seemed sketchy to her, but Deringer was so
certain, and if anyone would know it would be that spooky bastard.
No. She wouldn’t let herself hope. Surely being disappointed again
would kill her. Then again she could hardly be more devastated than
she was already.

Focusing on the practical, Tonya picked up a
notepad from her bedside table. Whether Nate was alive or not she
needed to keep her promise to hire security. She’d never done such
a thing before, but as she’d told Deringer she knew just whom to
call. She began to make a list of what she needed to get done.
Despite her effort at distraction the overriding question echoed
constantly through her head: Where was Nate? Was he still
alive?

Chapter Eleven

At roughly the same time, Nate was asking
himself those same questions. Oh, he knew he was still alive, and
had the aches and pains to show for it, but at the moment he wasn’t
sure how long he would stay that way. He had waited nearly a week
after he planted the explosives to make his escape. A week for the
Rooster to discover that the deadly toxin he’d been given was
little more than a harmless powder. During that time, he’d gathered
as much information as possible about the man’s network, mopping it
up shouldn’t be particularly difficult once he’d disposed of the
Rooster. All in all the operation had been surprisingly easy, so
easy in fact he should’ve suspected a trap. Bodyguards manned the
interior of the home, but they relied on electronics to secure the
perimeter. After he’d built his backdoor through the basement,
slipping out was a simple matter.

It was only after he’d blown the house all to
hell that he discovered his prey was not in residence. Clearly
they’d anticipated the double-cross, and he could only conclude
that the Rooster hadn’t been staying in the house during his visit.
That would explain the fairly lax security. Not for the first time
he reviewed how he might have given himself away, but finally
concluded that the trap was simply a product of the Rooster’s
paranoia. He’d been hidden in the forest not far away from the
house when the Rooster returned shortly after the explosion to
discover his house in ruins and numerous members of his staff dead
or injured. He’d quickly formed a search party to find Nate and the
hunter became the hunted, which was just what that psychotic
motherfucker had planned.

Nate scrounged through the forest not
necessarily sure where he was, but focusing on keeping as much
distance between himself and his pursuers as possible. They’d fired
at him several times and the heavy scent of gunpowder hung in the
humid air. He feared that at least one round had hit him, he didn’t
have the time to investigate right now, but it didn’t impede his
progress all that much so he assumed it had merely winged him. The
hilly terrain was nearly impossible to navigate; the hidden canyons
and cliffs made the going quite treacherous. Keeping the sun over
his left shoulder to ensure he was traveling north, he kept his
body low, forming as small a target as possible. His mottled
camouflage clothing helped him blend in with the forest foliage,
and he automatically moved in a furtive, almost smoke-like way that
didn’t even disturb the wildlife. It had taken him years to perfect
the technique, but it had been well worth the hard work, having
saved his life more than once. Even so, despite his best efforts he
knew it was only a matter of time before they caught him. It was
almost impossible for a man to totally avoid three men in active
pursuit over unknown terrain indefinitely. He knew the Rooster was
a skilled tracker and the men with him were two of the best Nate
had ever seen. Trust the Rooster to have his two best men out of
the house when Nate destroyed it.

Nate focused on finding cover, any cover to
give him a chance to regroup. The forest canopy grew so think it
was almost as dark as twilight, but Nate continued to run. If he
could gain some time on them he’d have an opportunity to
reconnoiter the area. He would have to slow down and soon. His
training ensured that he could run for long periods, but he’d
stumbled more than once, losing crucial time. Tree branches were a
hazard as well, but he’d somehow managed to avoid being clothes
hangered. Finally sure that he had at least fifteen minutes, he
slowed to a jog, his sharp eyes seeking any type of cover. It was
so dark he almost missed it -- a box canyon. The small valley it
sank into provided only one way in. Better yet a large tree had
fallen not long ago and blocked the entrance from most observers
leaving an opening so tiny it would be a tight fit for any man who
was larger than himself. Now as long as he didn’t disturb a
sleeping jaguar or worse it would be the perfect hiding place. He
looked around to ensure he’d have an unobstructed view. Not at all
sure he’d be successful he went to work on the area around the
fallen tree. Despite not having much materiel to work with he was
able to finish in very short order.

Knowing he’d done all he could do to achieve
success; he carefully shimmied into the opening under the tree. It
wasn’t very large, but he was confident that it would be
sufficiently difficult to find, especially in the low light. He
focused on slowing his breathing and heart rate, timing his breaths
and pauses until he reached a trance-like state. Now there was
nothing to do but wait, and he indulged himself with sweet memories
of his last time with Tonya. They’d gone swimming at dawn in their
hidden cove. The water was warm and smooth as silk caressing their
bare skin. Tonya, her skin darkened by the amount of time they’d
spent in the tropical sun had shimmered like golden amber in the
soft dawn light. He reached out to caress her tawny skin -- even
now he could all but feel it under his hands. He was determined to
survive today so he’d have a chance to make more memories with his
love.

It didn’t take nearly as long as he’d
anticipated for the Rooster and his men to come into the area
around the tree. Nate sat still, his chest not even moving. Before
long the men approached the downed tree.

“Nate Randolph, I presume,” the Rooster said
staring into what Nate knew to be pitch-blackness inside the
canyon.

Nate almost laughed at the hackneyed line,
but this was no laughing matter. “That would be me.”

“You might as well come out, Randolph.
Contrary to your own press you can’t disappear like smoke.”

“Unfortunately that’s quite correct, but I
can’t imagine why your men are chasing me when I’m just a simple
mechanic looking to do more work for you.”

“I know exactly who and what you are
Randolph. The contents of that vial were absolutely worthless. Even
worse, you blew up my house. I’ve killed men for significantly
less. I really liked that house,” the Rooster said. “Come out now
and I might be persuaded to simply kill you, as opposed to
torturing you to death.”

Interesting that he didn’t mention the
half-dozen or so people who had died as well. Nate suspected he
mourned them far more deeply than their employer did. “Tempting as
your invitation is, I don’t think so. I’m enjoying the peace and
tranquility, so I have no real reason to come out. And with the
tree blocking the entrance you certainly can’t come in and get
me.”

“You left your weapons back at the house, so
you have no way to fight us. You might as well come out, as you
have no way to escape. I certainly have no compunction against
starving you into compliance,” the Rooster said.

Nate smiled. “So it would appear. That being
the case, why don’t y’all come on in?” Only a fool would take him
up on that invitation. Because of the tight opening only one of
them could enter at a time -- even worse they would be blind coming
into the pitch blackness after the relative light outside. He had
left his weapons behind, but they couldn’t be one hundred percent
sure of that either. He waited for their response, and when there
was none, he continued, “You forgot one thing when you were reading
my press. I always have a backdoor.” Even in the dim light he could
tell exactly when the men realized they were standing on a tiny
wire and exactly what that meant. Because he’d abandoned most of
his materiel at the house when he escaped, the IED he’d created had
taken every bit of craftsmanship he had. “I wouldn’t do too much
moving around if I were you guys. Those lines are pretty damned
sensitive.” Actually they weren’t. To tell the truth he wasn’t
altogether sure the explosives would work, but they’d have no way
of knowing that.