Absolution Page 19

  He shut off the water with one hand and reached out blindly for a towel hanging on the rack. Couldn’t see shit without his glasses. Damn weak eyes. He’d thought about laser eye surgery a few times, but what was the point? It’s not like he needed it for his job. If he’d been out in the field doing ops, that would have been one thing. But sitting at a desk, his glasses were all he required for perfect vision.

  It still irked him that he’d wound up a glorified desk jockey. All he’d ever wanted was to make it into paramilitary ops. He glanced down at himself, his unfocused vision still able to see the soft belly protruding at his waist, big enough that it obscured his view of his genitals. He could barely make out the ends of his toes sticking out from beneath his navel. God, how had he let himself go like this? Up until a few years ago he’d been in good shape. Not as good as Luke, but still decent for a desk jockey.

  A wave of self-disgust washed over him. He was soft and fat and his hair was thinning, and his close quarter battle skills were so rusty he probably couldn’t even disarm a mugger anymore. Sure as shit he wouldn’t be able to hit anything long range with a rifle. Luke on the other hand, was still sharp as a razor and every bit as lethal. All anyone had to do was look into the man’s eyes to see that. The guy was fifty-freaking-years-old, five years older than him, and Luke’s body fat percentage was low enough to make most Olympic athletes jealous. It made him jealous, for Christ’s sake. They’d joined the CIA at the same time, but Luke had gone on to become a living legend both there and in the Spec Ops world.

  Miller frowned as he toweled off. Had his Agency handlers and superiors known back then that he simply didn’t have what it took? He’d come out of the FBI’s Counterterrorism Unit one of their top agents, but they’d never put him into the field. What had they seen lacking in him? The relentless drive that Luke had? Or had they known he’d wind up old and fat before his time?

  Didn’t matter now. He’d taken the path offered to him and reached the pinnacle. He was the Kabul station chief, for Christ’s sake. He was just as focused, just as driven as Luke, but they’d spent their time in the Agency directing their energies in very different ways.

  Squinting, he groped along the vanity for his glasses and put them on. They were steamed up, so he cracked the bathroom door open and reached up to wipe the towel across the foggy mirror—

  He leapt back with a strangled gasp.

  Outlined by condensation on the mirror, the word Traitor stood out in a silent accusation.

  His heart galloped inside his ribcage. Beads of sweat broke out on his skin. They’d been here. Earlier, before he’d checked in. Someone had written this on the mirror with their finger, knowing he’d find it. Miller cast a frantic look around the bathroom. Christ, had he missed a camera in here? Were they watching his reaction right now? No. Impossible. He’d been thorough when he’d checked for eyes and ears.

  They could be waiting for him outside that door, he thought, glancing at the flimsy deadbolt and chain. He stared at the brushed nickel knob, mind racing with wild thoughts. What if they’d sent a hit team after him? The next person at his door could be waiting with a silenced pistol in their hand, ready to pull the trigger.

  His gun. He had to get his gun. He’d left it in the drawer of the night table.

  Naked, he flung open the bathroom door and raced into the bedroom. His eyes fastened on the table and the little drawer inside it. He tore over and ripped the thing open. And stopped dead.

  The gun was gone. But the hotel bible lay there, open to the book of Luke.

  His skin prickled and crawled. No.

  A passage was underlined. Chapter 11, Verse 23, and he couldn’t stop himself from reading it. The words swam before his eyes.

  Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.

  His mouth went dry. Oh my God... Luke was coming for him.

  “Looking for this?” a deep voice drawled.

  “Shit!” he cried, whirling around with a hand over his thudding heart.

  Luke’s penetrating dark gaze seared his naked skin as he lifted the loaded SIG Sauer and aimed it at Miller’s head.

  Miller stumbled back against the night table, knocking the reading lamp over with a crash. “Jesus,” he gasped, dizzy from the flood of adrenaline roaring through his bloodstream. He couldn’t hear anything but the rush of blood in his ears.

  Never taking his eyes off him, Luke tossed him a hotel robe. Miller caught it and threw it on to cover himself, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. “This is all a misunderstanding—”

  “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

  He did, throat constricting as he swallowed. Oh Christ, what was Luke going to do to him?

  The door flew open and two huge guys strode in, the twin hit men he’d met in Kabul last time he’d seen Luke. They were dressed in jeans and black leather jackets that no doubt concealed a holster or two. Their shoulders were so wide they blocked out the light coming in from the hall and their eyes were concealed beneath wraparound shades. Miller locked his knees to keep them from shaking, his gaze swinging between the two assassin-types and Luke. The sheer intensity of the dark stare coming back at him shriveled his insides.

  He was a walking dead man.

  Luke lowered his weapon and took a menacing step toward him. “Jamie’s waiting downstairs for us. You coming quietly, or do the boys and I get to make this interesting?”

  ****

  Luke might have believed Miller was unaffected by the interrogation except for the frantic way his pulse throbbed in the side of his throat and the faint sheen of sweat on his upper lip. His eyes, though, were cool as ever. Ice blue and devoid of emotion. Flat. This wasn’t going to be easy. Miller was a slick bastard. Wouldn’t give up information without a fight. But that was fine. Luke still had his trump card to play.

  Across the table from his up until now stellar Kabul station chief, Jamie regarded Miller calmly as he finished his questions. Positioned near the door, Ben and Rhys lounged against the wall with their arms folded across their chests, giving just the right impression of menace and authority. They both appeared to be waiting for the word to take over the interrogation using less subtle methods. Which was exactly the kind of threat necessary when dealing with a bully like Miller. Bullies only understood intimidation, and the twins had that air of silent menace down to perfection.

  Listening to Miller’s answers and the absolute lack of inflection in his voice, Luke felt a shred of admiration underneath his disgust. Kinda had to admire him, the way he was playing this. Miller was a shark. Coldblooded and instinctive. No surprise he’d thought he could get rid of Davis and not get caught. Luke didn’t doubt for a moment he’d never intended things to go so far. Miller wasn’t the type to sabotage his own career. But in his efforts to siphon his own intelligence and use it to nab Tehrazzi so he could be the Agency’s new darling, he’d crossed an unforgivable line.

  Without the trap Luke was itching to spring, they might never have nailed the bastard. Miller had been damned careful. Almost perfect in his duplicity. They hadn’t been able to trace a single cell or satellite phone call that incriminated him in any way. Just the odd one from Tehrazzi using Pashto code words to a contact in Kabul. Without the other prisoner Luke had brought in, the whole investigation would have hit a brick wall.

  Miller answered another question in that flat voice of his. His eyes remained cool, but he couldn’t quite mask the disdain in them.

  Jamie turned to Luke. “I’m done here. Go ahead.”

  Oh yeah, he was more than ready to do this. He came away from the wall, his stare pinned on Miller’s.

  Miller paled when their boss got up to leave. Considering how lethally pissed off Luke was, the show of unease reinforced just how intelligent Miller was.

  Luke prowled toward him, stopping short of the chair Jamie had vacated. He would stay standing for this. “Great story you’ve got,” he remarked, the anger bubbling up despite his efforts to stop it. “I espec
ially like the part where you deny having any contact with Tehrazzi leading up to Davis’s death.”

  Miller’s cool blue eyes regarded him frostily from behind the rimless glasses. Empty and lifeless. A shark indeed. “Glad I could entertain you. Want me to tell it again? Because you’re not going to find any inconsistencies no matter how many times I say it.” He cast a glance over at the twins. “Even if those two get involved.”

  Don’t you challenge me, you piece of shit. “No, I don’t want to hear it again, because if I do I might puke. Instead I think I’ll tell you my version of the story. Know how I think things went down?”

  Miller arched a challenging brow. “I’m on pins and needles.”

  Damn right he was. He might be putting on a good show, but Luke knew if they took his vitals his BP would be through the roof along with his pulse. Slimy son of a bitch wouldn’t last five seconds if Luke got physical with him. He didn’t need the twins’ help, and Miller knew it. If anything, he should be praying they stayed in the room to safeguard him from Luke’s wrath.

  “You used one of Davis’s informants on the Agency’s payroll as a go between to get to Tehrazzi,” he said to Miller, curling his hands into fists to keep from going at his throat. “You paid him American cash to keep his mouth shut and learn how Davis operated, and it was perfect because Davis had worked with him for over a year. You knew he trusted him.” And that degree of manipulation was what sickened Luke the most. “See, I already know how this whole thing worked. To keep us one step behind, you looked the other way when intel about Tehrazzi came in, and in exchange he rolled over on the occasional drug trafficker or arms dealer, which you got the credit for. He stays safe in the mountains, and you earn the reputation as the guy who helped clean up Kabul. A win-win situation, until Davis got suspicious and started looking into it.”

  Luke placed his palms on the cool metal surface of the desk and leaned forward. Miller shifted back in his seat almost imperceptibly, but held his ground when Luke continued. “You got scared because you knew Davis was the kind of guy who wouldn’t let it go. You knew he could blow your cover. So you brought him in and planted the HUMINT that Tehrazzi was visiting dear old gram and gramps’ village in Syria. Then you sent Davis, and the informant you both used, to rendezvous with us. You even accompanied them to the airfield like a concerned boss. Only Davis didn’t realize you’d paid the Afghan kid ten times what his entire family makes in a year, to kill Davis when they inserted. And to cover your ass, you’d already paid someone in the village to take out the informant.”

  Miller shook his head. “You’re so full of shit. What about all the times you got within an eyelash of getting Tehrazzi, huh? I think you purposely let him go because you love the thrill of the hunt and the fact that each operation makes you an even bigger legend in your own mind.”

  Don’t take a swing at him. It’s not worth it, no matter how great it would feel at the moment. Just let him screw himself into the ground with his lies, then bring in the other prisoner and walk away from this whole fucked-up mess.

  Drawing in a calming breath, Luke continued. “And the reason it might have worked was because you knew Tehrazzi killed that IT kid in Peshawar with the telltale double tap to the head a month ago. So making us run a wild goose chase to follow up the sighting of Tehrazzi was perfect. Informant shoots Davis, plants the note Tehrazzi had given him, and heads for the village where he never suspects a bullet is waiting for him from one of his Muslim brothers he thinks will take him in from the cold.” A wintry smile spread across his face. “Too bad the blizzard fucked that part up.”

  The first edge of fear crept into Miller’s eyes, but he masked it instantly. “Interesting story, but I’m sick of the accusations. Prove it, or let me go.”

  The rage in him expanded, sending a ripple through his muscles. He stared hard at Miller. “Last chance.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Clenching his jaw, Luke turned his head and nodded at the twins. Ben pulled open the door for Rhys, who disappeared down the hall.

  “What are you doing?” Miller demanded, his voice betraying a hint of unease.

  Luke ignored him, pinning him with an unrelenting glare until Rhys returned, pushing a handcuffed and battered-looking Afghan male into the room. Still staring at Miller, Luke knew the instant Abdu stepped through the door. Miller’s face lost all its color.

  Gotcha, you pathetic son of a bitch. “Gonna come clean now? Because I’ve gotta tell you, I’d dearly love to beat the truth out of your fucking sorry excuse for a body.”

  Miller’s throat bobbed as he swallowed convulsively, staring at the other prisoner like he was seeing a ghost. “How..?”

  Standing up, Luke jammed his fists beneath his armpits to keep from smashing them into his former colleague’s slack face. “You shoulda checked with the AWACS patrolling the area before you dropped them off at the airfield. Blizzard moved in too fast and too hard for Abdu to make it to the village. We found him freezing in the middle of the desert after locating Davis’s body on our way to the village. He was so relieved to see me, Rhys and the SEALs, he promised to tell us the whole story if we took him with us. Funny enough, his prints were on the hand-written note from Tehrazzi we lifted from Davis’s body.”

  Though he didn’t admit his guilt, Miller dropped his eyes to the table. “I want my lawyer.”

  Luke glanced over his shoulder at Jamie, who stood in the doorway looking tired and very pissed off. Finding out one of your men had gone rogue was not a party, let alone a station chief who had been doing an outstanding job until this ugly incident. “We done here?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got what I need.”

  “Let’s get outta here,” he said to the twins, brushing past the forlorn-looking Abdu on his way out the door. If he had to look at Miller’s lying mug for one second longer he’d wind up facing assault charges.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Stepping into the front foyer of the house, Luke rolled his head from side to side to ease the tension in his neck and shoulders. Damn, he was wiped. He felt hollow inside, like someone had scooped out his guts with a dull spoon.

  He’d missed things before in his career. Important details he should have noticed, and times when he’d acted too late. But of all the things he’d seen and done in his years in the field, he’d never expected to have to deal with what Miller had pulled. Never in a million years would he have believed the guy would be so traitorous. Conniving and opportunistic? Yeah. Willing to protect a terrorist to enhance his own career and have one of his own men killed to cover it up? Luke hadn’t seen that coming.

  To top it all off, tomorrow he and Rhys were going back to the hellish mountains of Afghanistan with Dec and his SEALs. Landlocked in those frozen, hostile peaks where friend and foe changed allegiances on a whim or whenever a better offer came along. All the analyst reports and intelligence pointed to Tehrazzi being there. They couldn’t be sure where exactly, since Miller had fed them false information all along. Hopefully something more would come in before Luke and the others landed at Bagram tomorrow.

  His tired gaze strayed unerringly to Jamul’s study down the hall. After tonight he didn’t feel like working anymore, but he should at least check his e-mail one last time in case Davis’s family had contacted him again. Families always wanted more information about their loved one’s death. Details of their final moments. Whether they’d suffered or not. At least when Luke told them their son hadn’t suffered, this time it would be the truth for a change. Davis hadn’t known what hit him, and that was the only blessing Luke could think of.

  His steps were silent as he made his way down the hall. A faint glow came from the edge of the doorway, where the door was opened a crack. Had he left the light on before he’d gone? He couldn’t remember.

  Reaching it, he pushed it open slowly, peering around the room. He stopped dead, aware of a peculiar sensation in his chest, as though his heart had just rolled over.

  Emily was curled up in an armchair in t
he corner across from the desk, sound asleep with a cup of tea resting on the table next to her elbow. No steam curled from its surface. Her pale pink lips were parted slightly, and she had a thin blanket tucked beneath her chin. Her neck was tilted at a bad angle, her head resting against the wing of the chair. The awkward position had knocked her bobbed wig askew. Tenderness welled up, swift and painful. She’d been waiting up for him, knowing something was wrong. Ah, sweetheart.

  How long had she been in here? Probably for hours, and she had an appointment tomorrow with a local oncologist she needed to be rested for. He shook his head at her stubbornness.

  Careful not to make any sound, he walked over and touched the tea cup. Cold. He was willing to bet it had been that way for some time, too. He watched her for another few minutes, tracking the slow, even rise and fall of her chest. One dainty bare foot poked out from beneath the blanket. Her toenails were impeccably polished with a shade of brilliant red. A true lady to the core.

  What am I going to do with you, Em?

  Luke fought with himself as he stared down at her. The sight of her fragile and fighting for her life, yet curled up in that chair in an uncomfortable position because she’d been worried about him... It choked him up. He was so damn tired of all of this. Tired of living with nothing but regret and responsibility, chasing shadows across the globe. And he was tired of living with the guilt of what he’d done to her and Rayne. He’d hurt them both so badly.

  And yet she’d never once given up on him. Emily had always believed in him, no matter what. And now he’d dragged her here despite her wish to stay in the home she loved and found comfort in, all because he’d failed to get Tehrazzi.

  He’d stayed away for so long, but...he couldn’t maintain the distance between them anymore. The consequences were too terrible. He hated to admit the possibility, but Em might have only months left. Tomorrow he returned to Afghanistan. Chances were, he wasn’t coming back this time. Tehrazzi was good enough to kill him when they crossed paths again. Whatever else happened, Luke owed it to Emily and himself to give them the goodbye they’d never had. She needed to know he loved her, had never stopped loving her. He was tired of holding back.