A Wanted Woman Part 37

Maybe he hadn't seduced her. Maybe she had seduced him, as she seduced all.

War Machine said, "If the Kiwi is gone, we can't turn around. A tropical storm is coming."

"When I am updated on her whereabouts, the top men will be updated."

"Why not update me first?"

"Trust."

"Update me first. I will give the orders to my men."

There was another pause.

She said, "Not this time. I know. Not this time, because I know."

"What do you know, Karleen?"

"I know what you have done."

He paused. "Who else knows?"

"No denial?"

"Who else knows?"

"No one."

"Okay."

"My brother is dead."

"My cousin is dead."

"His heart stopped beating because of my order."

"It was my order. He was a brother to me as well."

"My twin brother is dead, and now I find out he did nothing wrong."

"What should I do?"

"Motherf.u.c.ker, you should have been a man and spoken up."

"Should I fall on my sword?"

He heard her crying. A long moment went by.

She said, "No. Once a bad move has been made in chess, there is no going back."

"There was a plan, and that plan had a purpose for New Trinidad. I can explain it to you."

"Not now. When you do, bring the truth. I am your wife to the end. I chose you to be my number one, and if I chose badly, then this is my fault as well. I chose you over Appaloosa. I chose you over Kandinsky. Over Guerrero. I have bonded with you the most. I have procreated with you. Does that not work? Did I somehow fail in thinking that bonding with you and making a family would inspire loyalty? Am I a fool? If the members knew what you had done, what my husband has done . . . we will talk. You f.u.c.ked up. New York. Miami. Barbados."

"It's all connected."

"Tell me. Tell me why we're at war and no one seems to know why but you. Tell me."

He told her.

He said, "Everything went wrong. They went silent. Attacked us."

"How could you do some s.h.i.+t like that without conferring with the top men in the group?"

"I made a decision."

"Do you need to feel important? Does my part of the leaders.h.i.+p threaten your manhood?"

"Watch your tone."

"I have men available. I will send them to North America to attack and kill them all."

"No one goes to North America."

"You have no f.u.c.king say in this. You have me in a war and I had no idea we were at war."

War Machine said, "I am in charge. We will not put men on North American soil."

In the softest of threats, she said, "I make one phone call, Number One, and that changes."

"Then Appaloosa becomes your number one. He becomes your next husband."

"No, but he takes your place as leader. What you have done makes him seem more competent than I ever realized. Go against me, the truth rises, and you face the consequences of your actions."

"Okay."

"It will make what you allowed to happen to my brother seem pleasant."

"You have the upper hand. The Kiwi? Need to be sure we are on the same page."

"Nothing changes. She remains the blame. We allow her to be the blame. She is needed now more than ever. She's a symbol of all things wrong. We bring her here, offer her to everyone as sacrifice, we burn her as we do all evil, and that helps all heal. There is no other way. No other f.u.c.kin' way."

In a calm voice, she ended the call without a good-bye.

War Machine rubbed his temples, cursed, thought about King Killer.

He whispered, "Never should have gone behind the red doors."

FORTY-TWO.

The Caribbean Sea's platinum coast was Gucci, Ralph Lauren, and Tag Heuer. Limegrove Lifestyle Centre was like the Grove in Los Angeles had dated Rodeo Drive and had a West Indian baby.

When I reached the resort, I downs.h.i.+fted, looked for a hidden place to park.

I gazed out at the waters, caught a glimpse of helicopters over the waves, glimpsed a superyacht moving north. I wanted to be on that boat. Tonight I would kill to be on that boat.

I pulled off my damaged helmet and took out my cellular, was about to call Big Guy, tell him to get me on a cruise s.h.i.+p somehow, didn't care what he had to do to make it happen, but his ten fingers and ten toes would be appreciative if he did. But I didn't make that call. Had to realize that this was bigger than me. My gut instinct told me that I couldn't vacate this job without endangering Old Man Reaper.

Johnny Parker and his kid could end up like Black Jack and Hacker.

I couldn't protect anyone from where I was.

Had to focus on protecting myself, and I didn't think I could do that, either.

I rubbed my aching temples. Head throbbed with each heartbeat.

Still I would drink the ocean dry just to be able to walk to another country.

Outside the resort stood the nation's flag. Ultramarine on two sides and gold in the center. A broken trident was on the gold, the trident symbolizing that Barbados was an island of slaves that had broken away from England. Yet they still depended on the tourism from the same hands, which was financial dependence, and financial dependence was slavery with a kinder name.

Even when they set you free, they still owned you in their own way.

I parked, then sent a message: On location.

Seconds later came a reply: Can you handle this mission?

I replied: Is everything in place?

The reply came right away: Green light.

I took a deep breath, they replied: Going silent.

I reached inside my backpack, made sure weapons were locked and loaded, then put two.380s into the small of my back. I walked with the.357 inside the backpack, carried the backpack with my hand on the trigger, my trigger finger itchy, anxious, hungry to spill blood, get revenge for Black Jack.

When I opened the door to the suite, a man was sitting in a fas.h.i.+onable armless chair. He was in his twenties and looked like he should have been on the cover of Better Health magazine. He was blindfolded, a prisoner waiting in darkness that was broken by a sliver of moonlight that crept through an open window. Waves crashed outside. The sea, restless. Except for a few scars, he was naked. Behind him, a king-size bed. Straight ahead, a private balcony facing sand and sea. His clothes were folded and had been placed in a different chair. A cup of coffee from Zoola Cafe was on an end table.

I closed the door, entered the room without a word. Gun aimed at him, I turned on the light in the bathroom. He didn't react. His blindfold was that comprehensive. I put the gun down. Square chin. Dimples. Clean-shaven. He was well manicured and decently endowed, was semi-erect.

I removed his earplugs. Not until then did he react to the sound of the ocean, the sound of my breathing, the echo from tree frogs singing their Caribbean song. He had been in restraints, unable to remove them, blind and deaf, as vulnerable as a man could be.

In my true voice I whispered, "We should get started."

"Pardon me for not standing and shaking your hand."

I held his p.e.n.i.s, shook it up and down. "Pleased to meet you."

"You sound tense."

"s.e.x makes me nervous."

"Relax."

"If I could relax myself, I wouldn't be here."

"We can be romantic."

"I don't do fake."

"If you untie me I can ma.s.sage you and then please."

"This is crazy. I should leave."

"It's up to you. I am here for you. Whatever you need."

"Stop talking."

I let him go, stood in front him, contemplating.

I took out my device that I used to sweep any room I entered, checked for any recording device. The room was clean. I crept back to him, traced my fingers over his rising stiffness.

He asked, "Is it okay?"

"Stop talking."

I moved away from him and stretched my neck, touched my knees with my forehead, went down into a left side split, a right side split, then a Chinese split, stood and stretched my left leg out into a slow-motion roundhouse kick. That calmed me. Candles were on the dresser. I lit two, let the light grow as the scent rose, and returned to my blinded blind date.

I asked, "You're here alone?"

He nodded.

I removed my gun from my backpack, walked the room, looked in the closets and made sure all were empty, did the same in both bathrooms. I put the gun near me and unzipped my boots, took off the left one, then the right. I sat there a moment, reconsidering, then I pulled off my jeans.

I asked, "You do this a lot?"

"Not a lot. Women get more customers than men."

"Men have more disposable income."

"And more freedom to do things like this."

"I'm your first today?"

"Yes."