While You Were Dead (28 page)

“Let us pick you up, Ice.”

“I’m nearly there. Meet you?”

Viper chuckled. “Yeah. Just like old times. I’ll meet you there.”

Dialing Reicher, Max repeated his information. The detective wasn’t as accommodating as Viper.

“Stay where you are, Max. We’ll take care of it.”

He cursed the static that interfered with Reicher’s voice. “I’m going in, Reicher. Bring SWAT. Sounds to me like they’re loaded for bear. I’ve got guys from my old unit meeting us too, but the more the merrier.”

“Crayton!”

Max flipped his phone shut. He turned to Lizzie, who wasn’t looking nearly as calm and compliant as he’d hoped. He cleared his throat, preparing for a fight. “Now, honey, I know—”

“Just go, already.” She grabbed the phone from his hand. “I’ll stay. Until you come back. The new code is chili.” Lizzie touched his leg. “Don’t let them hurt her, Uncle Max.”

Pale light simmered at the horizon as he climbed out and closed the door of his rental car. He motioned for Lizzie to lock the doors and she did with the touch of a button. She shooed him away but he didn’t go until he saw her cross her heart and give him a thumb’s up. Only then did he make his way to the field.

Lizzie’s trail of reflective tape shone like a beacon. The scary bedtime tales she’d always loved had finally paid off. It wasn’t until he’d crossed the road and picked up the trail on the other side that he realized the path she’d laid out could just as easily been used to track her. Max shut the thought away. He needed Ice. Ice didn’t have a daughter. Ice didn’t need the lady psychiatrist Max couldn’t live without. For the last time in his life, he dug into the dark recesses of his soul, resurrecting the sniper who wouldn’t die.

##

Ice approached the back of the compound, staying low. Two men were near the property’s perimeter. Ice didn’t have a gun, but that wasn’t a problem. Objective number one: take out the man on the left. Garner weapons. Take out the man on the right. Use of weapons would be back up only. His best weapon was surprise. Any noise would spoil that.

The guards seemed jubilant. Aware, but just too happy. One lowered his weapon to light a cigarette. Ice frowned and crept closer, wishing he had his scope, visualizing the action to come. One. Two. Lights out. Three to go. He wouldn’t waste a bullet on Vic. The adrenalin he felt inside alone was enough to rip Vic’s head off, even with his injuries.

He crouched behind one corner of the back wall. There were two outbuildings he could see from here, not one. Other than that, Lizzie’s description was picture perfect. He could hear the guards now, talking about an easy coup.

“That guy’s face—begging Viper not to shoot.”

Viper? Some of the pressure in Max’s chest began to lift.

The guard’s companion chuckled. “Haven’t had one this easy in a decade. Too bad Ice isn’t here to see it.”

“Ice? Here?” The young guard’s voice filled with awe. “I thought he was dead. Years ago.”

“I’d heard that too, but he’s not dead any more. The woman in the house? Viper hinted she’s his.”

The speaker was Crater, the explosives specialist for his old team. Viper had beaten him here. It was over. Max closed his eyes in relief. The woman in the house had to be Kat.

“Did you see her? If she is Ice’s girl, it’s good he’s not here.”

Had they arrived too late? He’d see for himself. Max banished Ice and stood, vaulting over the wall, heedless of how his ribs and wrist screamed protest. “But I am here, Crater.

“Ice! Is that really you? It’s been years.”

“It would appear I missed the party.”

Crater swept the yard with his rifle, disgust riding his features. “Weren’t no party, man. Bunch of kids playing soldier and one old man. English guy. Thought he’d scream when Viper shoved a pistol up his nose.” He touched a button on the microphone wrapped around one ear. “He’s here. We’re coming in. Right. Rear. Over.”

“Is Ghost here?” For all the warm welcome, Max didn’t particularly like Crater. He never had. No one was better at blowing stuff up, but Crater was not usually in charge of intel. That was Ghost’s job. Max had–and would–trust Ghost with his life. With Kat’s life. If he was inside with her, she’d be fine now.

“He’s expected. Shouldn’t be long. He’s on clean-up.”

Clean-up. That sounded like Ghost. Intel, no one better.

Max glanced at the other solider, who hadn’t said a word since Max popped over the wall. “New to the team? When did you join?” Too tough and way too much attitude, Max decided immediately. He’d probably looked just like him at that age. The youngster looked him up and down, then ignored his question.

“So you’re Ice, huh? Viper’s waiting to see you inside.”

“Where’s the woman?”

“Inside.”

Max started across the yard, flanked by the two soldiers. “You don’t—”

Crater cut him off. “Orders, man. We’ve been waiting for you. Viper’s like a little kid. I think he’s missed you, Ice. Is it true you’re coming back?”

“In his dreams.” Max lengthened his strides, fending off questions from both sides, trying to ignore internal sensors that were going off at a staggering rate. Where were the bodies? The blood? This yard didn’t look anything like a battlefield. He glanced at his old teammate.

Crater replied before he got the question out. “The fight, such as it was, happened out front. Two by the front gate and one at the main door. The other two are in the house.”

That explained that. So why were his alarms still screaming? The back door stood ajar. Max heard the voice drifting into the yard and his jaw clenched. Vic.

Then he heard Kat’s soft murmur, a sound his heart instantly recognized. Max ignored his ribs, ignored the splint on his wrist and clenched his fists.

What the hell was Viper doing? You didn’t keep the victim and the perp in the same room. Ever. Most definitely not if the victim was Kat. He took the four cement stairs in one huge leap.

“All in good time, love,” Vic was saying from somewhere inside. Somewhere close. Max’s fist clenched in anticipation. He was glad Reicher wasn’t here yet. He and Vic had business to conduct. Viper wouldn’t stop him from finishing it.

##

Kat heard the commotion in the yard. Hope soared. The police? Finally. Except Vic didn’t quit talking, telling her how he was preparing things so she’d understand before she died. Her ex-husband, turned kidnapper, turned would-be murderer, wanted a session with a psychiatrist?

He’d showered and shaved, looking strange without his graying beard. He looked. . .younger. Stronger somehow, as if he’d shed pounds along with his beard. Which was silly, of course, she’d witnessed his strength first-hand, both when she’d arrived and again tonight. Next to Max, Vic was the strongest man she’d ever met.

She was bleeding. Wet warmth trickled down the back of her neck and from somewhere next to her eye, down her cheek. Was he going to talk forever, while she bled to death? A kinder scenario than she’d imagined. Effective, especially if the injection the one they called Crater had given her was what she suspected. She’d managed to put the vial in her pocket, scooping it off the floor while Vic gave the younger man instructions. Crater wasn’t like Cap. Cap’s direct answers and indirect gazes were, if not kind, at least respectful. Crater leered. He seemed to enjoy carrying out the orders Vic gave him.

How long before she truly no longer cared? Two cuts, both to the head–more blood than anywhere else on the body, but deep enough to bleed out? How long would it take? Maybe not long. She was already so tired, tired of Vic, tired of his game. Why not kill her quickly and get it over with? He had what he wanted–even though he kept telling her he didn’t, not yet. What else was there? He must have planned all this for years, but how had he found out about Lizzie? And why now?

Maybe he was right. Maybe she did need to understand. Before she died. She sat up straighter in the too-short, uncomfortable chair and tried to focus on her ex-husband.

The voices in the yard grew closer, coming to the door that was just out of her sight. Vic had her tucked around a corner in the living room–a not-quite-willing audience to his soliloquies as he paced.

“Explain it to me then,” she requested. “And I could use a cup of coffee if it’s going to take long.” Coffee would wake her up. It would also make her heart beat faster, her blood flow more quickly. Probably too much to hope for.

“All in good time, love,” he soothed, stopping at the short wall that served as a windbreak for the back door. His eyes were bright, anxious with anticipation. She heard heavy footsteps pound up the concrete stairs outside. Vic stood motionless, smiling. “Ice,” he breathed.

“Just what we need,” Kat murmured. Another muscle-bound soldier with no name.

“What the hell–“

Kat leaped out of her chair. That voice she’d gladly listen to for hours.

“–are you doing, Viper?”

She froze. Viper? Viper was Max’s friend–his one-time commander.

“He shouldn’t be–“ Max strode into the room, far enough to see her. His feet halted mid-stride. She watched his anxious eyes scan the room, saw disbelief and hope war in his features. Both emotions faded away as he ignored her and turned back to Vic. Now his eyes held nothing but awful realization.

Awful, yes. Stunning and horrible, that her ex-husband was the man he knew as Viper. Hadn’t he called him for help? Wasn’t Viper the one who’d brought him the rifle? Kat fought down a shudder. Max was here. Surely that meant Reicher was, too. The detective had promised her he wouldn’t let Max track down the men alone. She dove into his chest, heedless of the bandages around his ribs, burying her nose against his throat, reveling in the scent she never thought she’d smell again.

It took a moment for Kat to realize Max didn’t wrap her up tight. Instead, he held his arms out stiffly from his body, purposefully not touching her. It wasn’t until she heard the certain slide of a revolver being loaded that she realized the object poking the wound in the back of her head wasn’t related in the least to Max. She dropped her arms and Max gently pushed her away. He gave her a little smile but even that faded as he looked her over. “Hi, baby. You okay?”

She whirled to face Vic. “You son of a bitch!” she screamed. A yell from Max accompanied a wave of Victor’s hand and the gun didn’t go off. It did nudge closer to her head. Kat was beyond caring. She wanted to rip his eyes out. If he shot her before she finished, so be it, but she would at least scratch that cocksure smile off his face.

Only she couldn’t move her arms. They were held firmly at her side, by strong hands, one of which was framed with an elastic splint. “Stay out of this, baby.”

Stay out? Was Max crazy? How much further in could she be?

“It’s not about you.” His chin rested gentle on her shoulder, his voice tender in her ear, but his hands were like steel. “It never was. Was it, Viper?”

“Release her.”

Vic’s voice, but no accent. Kat felt so dizzy she barely sensed Max’s hands as they slid up her arms to her elbows and then let go. She knew what they all wanted: Kat back in the chair. Kat out of the way while they had their stupid showdown. Well, Kat wasn’t going.

She whirled again but had to catch his arm for balance. Max might not let her attack Vic, but Max himself was fair game. “Where’s Lizzie?”

“Safe.” For the first time, he met her eyes. They spoke in volumes, of love, gratitude, and horrible sorrow.

Vic couldn’t break her, but Max did. With a single glance.

Reicher wasn’t coming. Max had come for her and he’d come alone.

The room started to spin seriously now. Kat backed into the wall for support. “Didn’t she tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Max’s gaze shifted now, between her and Vic.

“Not to come. You weren’t supposed to come.” She sounded hysterical and didn’t care. Why was he here? He had to know protecting Lizzie was the most important thing. The only thing. “You were supposed to stay with her. To keep her safe!”

“No. She didn’t tell me not to come.”

Whoever had the gun had moved to the wall right along with her. If she fell would the man with the gun fall, too?

“She needs to sit, Viper.” Max’s voice, from her left.

“Then tell her to sit.” Vic’s voice, that wasn’t Vic’s voice at all.

“This is insane,” Kat announced to the room at large.

Vic. . .Viper?. . .was the only one who laughed. “Insane. Just like your mother, Katherine.”

That was too much, but rough hands snagged her arms, dragging her back toward the chair. She didn’t have enough strength to resist and once they put her in that chair with the sawed-off legs, she’d never get out. Max had strength. Why wasn’t he fighting? “Leave my mother out of it.”

“Can’t, love. It all started with your family. That’s where it will end.”

Kat struggled to get back out of a chair that sat close to the floor. Max fought rage so intense he thought it would overpower him. She was hurt. Her lips were swollen from a blow, as was her right eye. Another wound matted her hair in the back–he had her blood on his chin, a token from when he’d held her still. A skimpy black shirt hung in tatters from her nearly-bare shoulders and an angry burn cruised her forearm. He watched an infrared dot appear on her forehead, even as Crater slapped her. Her cry of reaction pierced his heart. Frustration surged, demanding immediate action but Max didn’t move. The little red dot followed the recoil snap of her head with perfect accuracy. Blood flowed more freely from the gash next to her right eye, bright and red against her too-pale skin. Max found Viper’s cool smile and forced Ice to make the assessments necessary to get her out of this alive.