Smoke and Shadows Page 2

  “You didn’t do a goddamned thing!” This time it was Edmunds shouting. A few more police officers surrounded the tense scene.

  Stark tried to stop the EMT from covering Maia’s body with a white sheet and was tackled by two police officers in the process. Manning had to intervene, grabbing the younger Guardian back while Edmunds was up in the face of another French officer. Maia’s body was loaded on a gurney, covered by a white sheet with her blood slowly seeping through.

  “Shit. Viktor, do something,” Tim choked as he turned his anguished eyes on him.

  “What do you want me to do? She’s gone,” Viktor said tonelessly. “Manning, get the team back into gear. You’re in charge now.”

  “What the hell, Viktor?” Stark said. “Maia—is—dead. How can you be so cold about this shit?”

  “Listen up, Stark. We’re responsible for a man who could end the clusterfuck in Syria,” Viktor said. “Do your fucking job. Because if you fail to bring Nasir back safely to his country, Maia’s death will be in vain. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Copy that, Viktor,” Manning replied gruffly. There was no response from the rest of the Guardians, but Viktor watched them make their way back to the remaining SUV.

  “Jack’s on hold,” Holly piped in.

  Viktor sighed in resignation. A pain inside him was threatening to split his chest wide open. “Tell him that the convoy was attacked and we have no updates. Have him come in. I’ll tell him personally that his wife is dead.”

  Tim took in a ragged breath, trying to hold back a sob, but failing to stop his tears from falling.

  “Tim, are you going to keep it together?” Viktor asked sharply. “The team needs you on top of this. We have no idea who’s behind the attack. A sniper’s still at large. No way is this over.”

  His analyst nodded, not looking at him.

  Viktor returned to his office and sank into his chair feeling as if he’d aged fifty years. Everyone thought he was an unfeeling son of a bitch. But there was one person who knew how deeply he felt, and was the same person who could see through all his bullshit.

  He punched her number on the Sec-phone.

  “We have her,” Marissa said.

  He asked the one question that mattered. “Will she live?”

  *****

  Present day

  “Maia’s alive.”

  Jack struggled to understand Viktor’s words, thinking that he was hallucinating the entire rescue, that he was still locked away in this shithole after a grueling electroshock session that damned near cracked his ribs.

  He reached out and grabbed Viktor by his throat, backing him against the wall.

  “Don’t lie to me,” Jack snarled, bringing his face close to Viktor’s. His vocal chords were strained—three weeks of torture did a number on them. “I saw the footage…they covered her body with a fucking sheet.” For the first time in days, the back of his eyes stung. Four days after his abduction, his captors showed him the video of his wife’s death. The sick bastards taped everything; from the assault on the limo to Maia taking a gut shot, and to the one image that he couldn’t wipe out of his head—a white sheet being lowered on her beautiful, lifeless face. The thought of never seeing her again managed to accomplish what days of torture couldn’t do—break him down enough to lose it. Then numbness replaced the crazed grief he was feeling, angering his captors enough to beat the shit out of him when he had shown no empathy. How could he when it felt like his soul had detached from his body?

  “That was operation Grave Digger,” Viktor told him. “I’ll explain later what it is and why it was done. But for now, it’s enough for you to know Maia’s been in a medically-induced coma for the past three weeks. They’re about to bring her out of it. Figured it’s best if I rescued your ass before she woke up. If she knew you were taken, nothing would stop her from going after you and busting her stitches.”

  Jack let Viktor go and resumed walking up the tunnel. She’s alive. Elation hit him, and it was a struggle not to buckle to his knees and weep in relief. He could feel their eyes on him, watching him cautiously and gauging how broken he was. His body was stiff, and his ribs hurt like hell, but they were not cracked or broken. His tormentors were careful to aim their blows on his torso, giving him just enough pain, but stopping short of breaking his ribs. The electric shock was worse, not because of the burn marks it left, but the seizing and spasming were the worst sensations and pain no one could bear. But bore them he did. Because he swore to himself, he would survive this and avenge Maia.

  “We were waiting for some ransom note or demand, but it never came,” Derek said. “We immediately increased security around your parents and Brett, just in case this was against the McCords. Especially since they had nabbed you the same day Maia was shot. What did they want?”

  “Codes to the AGS database.”

  The only people who had the codes were Viktor and him.

  “Fuck.” Viktor stopped walking. Jack suspected if he wasn’t as weak as a newborn kitten, the blond man would have slammed him against the wall. “Did you break?”

  “Fuck no,” Jack bit out. “I thought they’d killed my wife, Viktor. You think I’d give them the satisfaction of getting what they wanted from me?”

  They continued walking until they reached the junction. Nathan’s eyes widened in shock. “Fuck man, you look like shit. Did they feed you at all?”

  The minimum to keep me alive for torture, Jack thought grimly.

  “Here. We got you some clothes.” Derek handed Jack a change of clothing.

  “Are we heading straight to the hospital?” Jack took off the ratty sweater his captors gave him. It was scratchy as hell, but along with the wool blanket they had mercifully given him, it had kept him warm enough. He ignored the cursing from everyone when they saw the marks on his body.

  “Uh, sorry, man, but you stink,” Derek informed him. “You don’t want to knock Maia back to sleep with the scent of eau de piss.”

  Jack grinned for the first time in weeks. “You have a point. Although, I’m pretty sure I didn’t piss on myself; at least I didn’t think I did.”

  “Don’t worry, man, we won’t tell,” Manning added.

  Derek clapped him on the back. “Let’s get you cleaned up so you can see your wife.”

  *****

  A keening cry shattered the usual quiet of the New Park Medical ICU.

  Jack is going to kill him, Viktor thought. It had escaped his mind to inform Jack that his parents had kept a vigil by Maia’s bedside for over two weeks now. They didn’t blame Maia for their son’s abduction, and instead, took care of her the way parents would take care of their daughter in such a situation. Though being shot in the gut wasn’t a normal occurrence experienced by most daughters.

  “Oh, my God, oh, my God—Jack!” Frances McCord threw herself into her son’s arms, failing to notice the wince that crossed Jack’s face. “What did they do to you?” Frances speared Viktor with an angry glare. “What did they do to him?”

  Jack cupped his mom’s face gently. “Mom, I’m okay. I’ll tell you. But I really, really want to see Maia right now.”

  Frances nodded in understanding. Robert McCord gave his son a hug and gruffly welcomed him back. Jack kissed his mom on the forehead and took a deep breath before stepping into Maia’s room. His parents followed, along with Dr. Lance Henderson, who worked on retainer at AGS’s medical facility, but also had medical privileges at New Park Medical.

  Dr. Henderson had explained Maia’s condition to Viktor and Jack’s parents, but there was something else the doctor felt he had to hold back at least until Maia was conscious or Jack came back. Viktor had a bad feeling about it. He was surprised how well Jack had survived three weeks of captivity but knew the effects could still manifest later.

  Pain flashed through Jack’s features as he raised a trembling hand to touch Maia’s face.

  “Babe.” His whisper was low as he bent over to kiss his wife’s forehead.

  Viktor h
ad known Maia since she was twelve, and because of her daredevil attitude, this wasn’t the first time he had seen her laid up on a hospital bed. Still, it wasn’t easy for Viktor to see her intubated and hooked up to a ventilator—so he could well imagine how McCord was feeling.

  Dr. Henderson cleared his throat. “Jack, it’s good to see you alive and . . . almost well.”

  “Doc,” Jack acknowledged.

  “I want to run some tests and x-rays on you after this.”

  “That won’t be necessary—”

  “Son,” Robert cut in. “Do this for us, please.”

  Jack nodded reluctantly. “Doc, I would like to hear about my wife’s condition.”

  “The bullet went through and through and hit mostly muscle, but it grazed some of her intestinal walls and damaged some blood vessels. They had the best surgeons in Paris work on her, and I won’t lie—they did lose her a couple of times, but she made it. Her brain function is normal, so we expect her to wake up with no problem.”

  “When could you bring her out of the coma?” Jack asked.

  “We could do it as soon as tomorrow. Her test results are very promising, but with the extent of her injury, infection remains to be a possible complication.”

  “How long before she gets to move around?”

  “She’ll be ambulatory in another two weeks,” Dr. Henderson replied. “Jack, there’s something else you need to know.”

  Viktor watched all the McCords stiffen and realized he did the same.

  “Maia was pregnant.”

  “Was?” Jack’s voice was strangled. Frances McCord started sniffling.

  “She miscarried,” Dr. Henderson said. “It’s hard to tell the age of the fetus without knowing when her last cycle was. I doubt if she was even aware that she was pregnant.”

  “She was pregnant?” Jack repeated the words in a gruff whisper.

  “Jack—” Frances McCord was openly crying now as she laid a hand on her son’s back.

  Jack’s shoulders slumped, his head dropping. “I’d like to be alone with Maia, please.”

  Frances held back a sob and quietly walked out. Viktor was the last one to leave the room. Jack McCord was one of the strongest men Viktor had ever known. But even the strongest of men had a breaking point. McCord just hit his.

  Before Viktor closed the door, he saw Jack bend over his wife, and gingerly wrap his arms around her. His body shook as he allowed his grief to take over.

  *****

  “How is he?” Derek asked. They were hanging out at the ICU waiting room.

  Viktor shrugged. “He’s taking it hard. But that’s expected after what he’s been through. We need to debrief him.”

  “Can’t you leave him alone for a few days?” Derek asked incredulously. “The man thought he’d lost his wife. He was tortured and starved for three weeks. Cut him some slack.”

  Viktor nearly lost his cool. Men like Derek just didn’t get it. Friendships made you weak and clouded your judgment. Derek and Jack were partners in McCord Defense Industries and the two were the best of friends. Derek used to work for AGS and that was how he and Maia had become buddies as well. It was Derek who had recommended Maia to head up protective custody for Jack’s brother. And now here they were.

  Viktor had strong reservations about Maia getting involved with Jack, and he’d done his own share of meddling. But Jack had more than proven his worth to Viktor and married Maia despite knowing how crazy her job could get. McCord had even invested in AGS to become privy to mission details, and because he was part owner, Jack had access to the codes to the AGS database.

  “This is bigger than Maia and Jack,” Viktor said in a low voice. “A week after Maia was hit, an ex-Guardian who had worked as a Lacrosse coach in Georgetown University died of a heart attack. He had been as healthy as an ox.”

  “Are you saying someone is targeting Guardians?”

  Viktor nodded. “I had my suspicions. After McCord told us what his abductors were after, I’m more convinced someone is acting on a vendetta. Maia was the target, not Nasir.”

  Derek’s eyes widened. “And you’re only telling me this now? Should I be worried about Sophie?”

  Viktor didn’t answer.

  “Damn you, Viktor,” Derek said. “If anything happens—”

  “Calm down.”

  “How dare you withhold information from us—”

  “We’ll have an all-hands briefing tomorrow and figure this out.”

  Derek walked to the elevator. “I’m going home. Tell Jack I’ll see him tomorrow.”

  “Lockwood—”

  Just then, the elevator doors opened and Braden Connelly stepped out. The Guardian was in love with Maia and had no problems making his interest known. He had pissed off Jack McCord a couple of times.

  Derek’s face darkened, and his lips curled into a snarl.

  Viktor rolled his eyes. Great, now we’re having a freaking hospital soap opera.

  Before Derek could confront Braden, Viktor stepped between them and said, “I thought I told you not to show your face around here, Connelly.”

  The tall, blond Guardian wasn’t aware of Jack’s rescue yet. The fool thought the field was wide-open now. Maia was in a fucking coma for Christ’s sake.

  “What I do during my personal time is none of your business, Viktor,” Braden replied. “And if you fire me over this, I will sue your ass.”

  “Say that to me again, Connelly.” Viktor stepped into his space. “Tell me that you’re going to sue my ass, and I’ll make sure I rip you a new one.”

  Braden didn’t answer and shouldered past Viktor to walk to Maia’s room.

  “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Viktor called out.

  Braden stopped and turned around. “Or what? You’re physically going to stop me?”

  The door to Maia’s room opened, and Jack walked out.

  “No, I won’t.” Viktor jerked his chin up. “But he will.”

  Viktor crossed his arms as he watched Braden pivot on his feet and turn rock-solid. He couldn’t see the idiot’s face, but he was pretty sure his jaw was hanging open. Jack’s expression was the scariest Viktor had ever seen it. The two men stood before each other like gunslingers at the O.K. Corral—without the guns.

  Derek scowled at Viktor. “What the hell are you doing? Jack’s far from one-hundred percent.”

  “Never underestimate the power of raw anger.”

  “I don’t fucking believe this,” Jack said as he stalked the couple of steps toward Braden, ignoring the gasp coming from his mother.

  “You’re alive,” Braden said quietly.

  “Yes, I’m fucking alive,” Jack growled. “And you’re so fucking dead.”

  Jack faked a right hook, and instead, slugged Braden across his cheek with his left fist. But Braden was a six-foot-five solidly-built wall of muscle and only staggered back a few steps.

  “I don’t want to fight you, McCord,” Braden said. “Not like this, man. You look like hell.”

  “I was in hell you asshole, and you tried to steal my wife? Fuck you!”

  Jack launched himself and planted his shoulder into Braden’s torso, crashing into a cart of medical instruments and taking him down. He let loose a series of punches, some connecting while some were deflected by Braden. The blond man managed to throw Jack off.

  “This is an ICU, not a bar,” the head nurse yelled. “Stop now! Security’s on its way and I’m having all of you thrown out.”

  Derek and Robert restrained a furious Jack from going after Braden again.

  Viktor sighed, walked up to Braden and shoved him toward the elevator. “Go home, you big idiot. You’ve caused enough trouble.”

  Just then, his Sec-phone buzzed.

  “Baran.”

  “How’s Jack?”

  “Considering the circumstances, he’s good. He’s already gotten into a brawl.”

  “What?”

  “It’s like freaking General Hospital over here.”

 
; “Did you just crack a joke?”

  “Yes, I did, sweetheart.”

  She laughed. He loved hearing her laugh.

  “Listen, I think I have some intel for you.” Marissa changed the subject.

  “What?”

  “It’s a who. Remember Jiro Matsuda?”

  “What’s the Japanese got to do with this?”

  “You know he’s not really Japanese.”

  “We can’t talk about this over the phone, Marissa.”

  “Okay. Where do you want to meet?”

  “Site three in twenty minutes?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You know you don’t have to make up shit to see me, Marissa.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  The line went dead, but Viktor found himself grinning.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Site three was an old abandoned junkyard on the outskirts of the shady Cloverleaf District. It was also a CIA property used for clandestine meet-ups, dead drops, and object disposal. Dark puddles covered the asphalt from the melted snow. Marissa smiled as she watched a Dodge Charger pull up beside her BMW. Viktor always loved his muscle cars. Ever since the South Africa incident involving the zee bombs, they had developed a cautious business relationship punctuated with some flirting, mostly from Viktor’s side. This was only their third rendezvous. The first one was when she put together some disturbing intel on a potential threat against the Guardians. The second meet-up was two weeks ago, soon after the attack on Nasir’s convoy and the abduction of Jack McCord. McCord’s kidnapping was baffling, but because what happened to Maia was kept under the radar, as far as New Park and DC society knew, the couple had taken a sabbatical together. Now, the pieces were falling into place, and the game board was looking more alarming. Viktor needed to be brought into the loop.

  Viktor rapped on her car window. They’d done this routine the past two times; she would hand him the keys to the junkyard gates, he would open them to let her car through, and then he would follow, locking the gates behind him afterward. Then he would park beside her car and get into her vehicle.