Out of the Dark Read online

  Emily looked back to find Mac and Victoria standing close to each other at the end of the hall. No doubt, Victoria would do what she did best, wrap unsuspecting men around her little finger. One would think by now she’d have run out of fingers, because God knew she’d never run out of men.

  From outside Emily heard the dogs barking and scratching at the back door. Evidently, Victoria had banned them to the yard so she could concentrate on her latest victim.

  A glance at her sister’s sparkling engagement ring sent another wave of sadness coursing through her body.

  An arrow of betrayal right to the heart!

  Shaking her head, Emily silently vowed to ignore them and reminded herself that Mac didn’t mean crap to her either. All she wanted was to be left alone.

  Stanley took the chair behind his massive clutter of computers, disc drives, CD burners and a staggering amount of papers with high tech designs scribbled on them. She sat next to him and watched the screen as he inserted the disc into a tiny piece of equipment that reminded Emily of a dental floss container.

  She looked up when Mac came in the room, only to notice Victoria hot on his trail. When he moved to stand next to Emily, her sister’s breasts rubbed against Mac’s arm. He tensed then shifted his questioning eyes to Emily.

  You’re on your own, buddy.

  “What is that, Stanley?” Victoria asked. “Are those pictures you took in Russia, Emily?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  Victoria laughed and clapped her hands, trying a little too hard to convince anyone in the room that she really cared.

  “Oh, I’m dying to see them.” Victoria turned to Mac and asked, “So, how did you and my sister meet?”

  Mac backed up and cleared his throat. “On the plane.”

  “How romantic!” Victoria licked her lips. “So are you two...” her sister leaned closer and smiled. “So, are you dating or what?”

  Emily gritted her teeth and growled before muttering, “I can’t stand the man, he’s all yours.”

  Then Emily turned back to the screen as Stanley tried to pull up the images. She wasn’t concerned about Stanley taking her remark the wrong way, because when he sat in front of a computer screen, he was completely oblivious to everything around him.

  Victoria huffed loudly then said, “That’s a cruel thing to say. You’re still jealous, aren’t you?”

  Emily shot her sister a cocky smile over her shoulder. “I’m not jealous, Victoria. There isn’t a single thing you have I want.”

  Emily turned back as the pictures came into view. “You’re a genius.”

  Stanley glowed. “It works...it really works.” His finger danced across the keyboard sharpening the photo images. Scenes of the Kremlin, Red Square and several local businesses filled the frames. The pictures were sharper than any she’d seen before.

  “Those are great,” Emily said, truly impressed. “I have to be honest, the lens was so small I didn’t think it would work. And with it being in my eye and all, it just seemed impossible.”

  “I had my doubts too, but as you can see, these are great shots. And the clarity is far better than anything else that size.”

  Mac leaned across her to get a better look at the screen. There were twelve different frames on the screen, each one taken at a different location. “Is that all the pictures?”

  Emily looked up at him and smiled, quiet satisfied with her part in this project. “There are over a hundred pictures on that little chip.”

  Mac straightened, rubbed the back of his neck, and blinked his tired eyes. “Do you think we could flip through them real quick so I can take a look?”

  “Sure,” Stanley said. “Each click of the mouse will bring up twenty different photos.”

  Stanley demonstrated and several pictures ran across the screen.

  “I’m afraid most of them are boring because I ran out of things of interest. So I just started clicking.”

  “You did a great job, Emily.” Stanley said as he continued. Stanley’s brows came together. “What happened to your eye,?” he asked Emily. “Did you have an accident?””

  She gently touched the area. “No, I walked into a wall.”

  “Stop!” Mac shouted then smiled uneasily. “I mean, can you go back to the last two frames?”

  “Sure.”

  “There.” Mac pointed to several pictures Emily had taken the last night she was in Moscow. Wanting to complete the roll, she’d randomly shot everything and everyone in sight.

  “Those on the second line, can you blow them up?”

  “No problem.”

  The screen pulled up a picture of three men talking. One smoked a cigarette, while the other two looked directly at the camera lens — or rather the young woman wearing it.

  Emily sucked in a deep breath and said, “That’s the man who tried to kill us.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ramón Marino stood, walked to the liquor cabinet where a bottle of scotch sat and poured a drink. He took a long drag from his expensive Cuban cigar, and blew the rich smoke into a thin cloud overhead. Without permission to enter, Bruno waited in the doorway. When his boss decided to talk, Bruno would listen, but he would never be the first to speak.

  The waistband of Bruno’s casual tan slacks, and the bright tropical shirt he wore absorbed droplets of sweat running a race down his back.

  Being summoned to Marino’s study was never good. Bad things happened here. Bruno knew this because he had both witnessed, and partaken in carrying out the man’s orders.

  In the left corner of the large room, deep in the shadows, laid a young, naked girl covered in blood. She couldn’t be older than sixteen. It appeared Marino had used her callously, and when finished, beaten her to death.

  Bruno suspected less pleasure came from the sex than the killing.

  Staring back at a man he loathed, Bruno resigned himself to whatever fate his boss decided. Those who failed paid the ultimate price. One didn’t hang around long making the mistakes he’d made. No, when Ramón Marino wanted a man dead, he wanted the job done quickly, quietly, and flawlessly.

  “Bruno,” Marino called from across the room. He turned, his dark features handsome, yet more dangerous than anything a normal person could imagine. His thick hair was dark as midnight and he wore it long, slicked back, tied with a simple leather strap. Those who looked into his hard, cold eyes saw the devil and a soul too corrupt for God’s mercy. “What is this I hear?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, jefe. What have you heard?”

  Marino took the icy glass of scotch, along with the cigar between his fingers, and sat in his favorite bamboo chair. It reminded Bruno of a throne where a monster sat while tossing out dire punishment to the poor and innocent people of Columbia.

  Putting the drink on the table, Marino took a slow drag of his cigar then picked an imaginary piece of lint from his perfectly pressed white suit. “I hear McKinsey still breathes.”

  Bruno did not react. They’d played this game before. Like a perilous chess game, accept the wrong move, you die, the wrong reaction, your wife and children die, the wrong words and your whole family is annihilated. A man’s life span tended to be short around Marino’s cartel, and Bruno had been with him longer than others.

  Bruno bowed. “Sí.”

  “How can that be, Bruno? How can it be when I told you to kill the bastard in St. Petersburg?” He took a sip of scotch. “Did I not?”

  Bruno watched as the pool of blood surrounding the dead girl grew larger, seeped into the grout of the tile then careened in a straight line to the back of Marino’s chair. Like a living spirit seeking revenge. Silently Bruno sent up a prayer for the innocent child murdered with no feeling or regret.

  “Sí, I had three men waiting when he left the snitch’s apartment. They were trained assassins. The best money could buy.”

  “Now, they are dead assassins.”

  “Sí, Señor Ramón. McKinsey killed two of them then one got away.”

  “Ho
w does a man who travels with no identity, no papers, and no contacts manage such a feat?”

  “Agent Jake Taylor was nearby on a diplomatic mission. I’m sure he had a hand in all this.”

  Marino puffed on his cigar then blew out the smoke in a thin line. Taking a sip of scotch, he placed the glass back on the coaster and studied the ceiling. “We all know Taylor has remarkable skills, but he’s not...” Marino waved his hand. “How you say, magical? He is but a man. And a man can be killed.” He took another sip of his drink. “Besides, I know for a fact that Archuletta is in Columbia looking for me.

  “I had not heard that. But it’s true all Falcon agents seem to have nine lives.”

  “I want one of those lives.” Marino stood and stomped across the room, shouting. “Can you not simply kill the son-of-a-bitch? I want him dead! Yet, he leaves St. Petersburg, gets to Moscow to meet up with that woman who took the pictures. Together they escape the country on a private plane, get away safely from Heathrow and now he’s back in the US.”

  “I sent men to the hotel room. I sent men to the private airport. I had men waiting in London,” Bruno said.

  “I’ve heard nothing from the men in Dallas. And since there is no word they captured or killed McKinsey, I have to assume he is alive, and your plot at the airport there failed as well.”

  Marino’s dark face reddened with anger as he threw the glass of liquor across the room. It crashed on the white floor, next to the dead girl.

  A snarl of hatred masked his face. Black eyes burned evil. Bruno swallowed hard. The open handed slap came as a surprise... and a relief. At least Marino hadn’t pulled out a knife and stabbed him to death.

  Bruno touched his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  Suddenly, a brutal backhand knocked Bruno against the expensive leather chair where he caught himself. The kick in his left thigh hurt, but did no damage. For that he silently gave thanks.

  Marino swiped his mouth and brushed back strands of hair that had broken free of the leather strap. Staggering with anger, he moved to get another drink. Filled with visible rage, he gulped the liquor, leaving only cubes of ice rattling in a new glass. After another inhale on the cigar, Marino dropped back in his chair. One leg hung over the arm.

  Bruno stood and wiped blood from the corner of his mouth on a white handkerchief. He watched as Marino raised his arms and cupped folded hands behind his head. His gaze remained deadly, unforgiving.

  “Bruno, I took you off the streets when you were just a boy. I care for your family. I give you all that you have. And you repay my kindness by failing at the one thing I asked you to do.”

  Bruno wanted to argue Señor Ramón had done little to make his life easier. At twelve, Bruno was a street thug. At fifteen, a mule in Marino’s drug trade. On his seventeenth birthday, he’d been given control over the prostitution and gambling rackets. By eighteen...he was a killer. Yes, his family lived well, but Bruno had given up his freedom for that luxury.

  Since joining up with Ramón Marino, Bruno knew he could never leave. Not alive, anyway. And if he died his family would suffer unbearable pain. Traitors were always made an example. The boss ruled with fear and brute strength. There was nothing Ramón Marino wouldn’t do.

  Nothing!

  “I will see it done, jefe.” Bruno wiped perspiration from his face. “I swear McKinsey will die.”

  To hide his disgust, Bruno turned to leave, the determination to please his boss strong, as was his desire to live. Just as Bruno reached the door, Marino said, “Kill that fucking bitch, too. I don’t know how she fits into all this, but I know she took pictures that no one can ever see. Do you understand?”

  Bruno looked over his shoulder. “It will be done.”

  “And get that goddamned film from whatever camera she was using. If the wrong people see that, my strategy will be ruined, and everything I’ve planned could fail.”

  Grudgingly, Bruno nodded. “This is the first I heard of the camera. Did you see it?”

  “No, but on her phone she said she had all the proof she needed. How did she get that without a camera?

  Bruno shrugged.

  “Don’t fail me again Bruno, or your pretty young sister will meet the same fate that puta did.” He nodded toward the bloody body discarded in the corner. Marino grinned. “Oh, I bet she’s a virgin. And you know how much I love virgins, don’t you, Bruno?” Marino’s cruel laughter echoed, like a taunt from El Diablo.

  Bruno gritted his teeth and swallowed the bile in his throat. He refused to allow his mind to go there. He’d kill McKinsey and the woman before his family suffered.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Gently, Mac pulled Em closer, knowing her seeing Stanislaw in the photo would mentally transform her back to the hotel. Without resistance, she leaned against him for support.

  Adrenalin swam through Mac’s veins like an illegal drug. Squinting, he leaned closer to verify the other man. Lev Stanislaw had been a henchmen for Nicholas Belskavia until Mac had shot him in the Moscow hotel.

  Everyone in the underworld knew Nicholas Belskavia would sell anything left over from the Cold War. Some referred to the Russian as the Wholesaler because he sold everything. Bio chemicals to make dirty bombs, nuclear bombs or any other serious weapons he had access to and could sell to the highest bidder.

  Ramón Marino.

  So why was Marino there? What was the connection? And why would they be foolish enough to meet in the open?

  Separately these men were dangerous, if they hooked up, it could be disastrous for the entire free world.

  Mac’s phone rang. Releasing Em, he went to the other side of the room so no one could hear the conversation.

  “Yeah, Frank?”

  “What’s your twenty?”

  “Stanley’s house. We’re looking at the pictures.”“

  Well,” Frank asked. “What the hell is it?”

  “A picture of Ramón Marino, Lev Stanislaw, and Nicholas Belskavia. I took Stanislaw out in the hotel. My guess is The Wholesaler sent him after Em.”

  “It’s coming together, Mac. The guy in Oak Cliff said someone from Russia has been talking about a dirty bomb. Ten minutes ago I received an alert from the NSA saying they spotted Bruno Reyes.”

  “Marino’s top guy. Where?”

  “He’s heading our way.”

  Mac disconnected and tried to figure what the three men could possibly have to meet about besides something illegal or destructive. Did Marino have access to that kind of firepower? If so, they’d be used to destroy Falcon and inflict as much damage to America as possible.

  After his sister had been killed, Marino did everything possible to hold Mac accountable. When the US government denied Marino’s claim, he turned against the American justice system as well.

  “Em, do you remember taking that picture? The place or time of day?”

  “Yes, I was leaving the next day. I went outside my hotel to finish up the film. I walked around for about an hour shooting pictures. This one wasn’t far from a coffeehouse. And see right here, that is the north corner of Red Square.”

  So, they were hiding in plain sight. Together, right out in the open. Very clever move. This way they couldn’t be accused of conducting a secret meeting.

  “Who tried to kill you?” Victoria demanded, hands planted on her shapely hips. “What have you two gotten yourselves involved in, Emily?”

  “Nothing.” Mac answered. Hugging Em, he whispered, “It’s okay. Just breathe through it.”

  She nodded and gripped the edge of Stanley’s desk.

  Slowly, Mac massaged the tension from her body. “Can you scroll through the rest of the pictures?”

  “Of course.” Stanley went back to doing his magic.

  “There, that picture!”

  Stanley froze the frame. Then again, but this time Marino and the Wholesaler were exchanging briefcases. Mac suspected one briefcase held a fortune in small, unmarked bills, and the other, bad news for America.

  “Did they se
e you taking these pictures?” Mac asked.

  “I don’t know. I had my gloves on and the clicker kept getting stuck.” Then Em tapped her bottom lip, and stared out the window. “But, when I went to my hotel that night I had the feeling I was being followed.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why. Once in my room I just blew it off. Later I met a few Russian lawyers for a drink.

  “Stanislaw is staring right at the camera. Could they have suspected you were taking their picture?”

  She shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  Obviously annoyed to be excluded from the conversation, Victoria asked, “Why in the world would you even think you were being followed? Were you doing anything wrong?”

  “Of course not.”

  Victoria waved her diamond-studded hand in the air. “See how silly you are? I’m surprised the Russian police didn’t lock you up for acting so suspicious.” She then turned to Mac and placed her hand on his arm. “She’s the biggest coward I know. And a company sends someone like her to Russia? Can you believe it?” Victoria slid her hand into Mac’s. “Let’s go into the kitchen and have some coffee, shall we?”

  Mac pulled out of her grasp. “No thanks.”

  It didn’t take him long to figure out he didn’t like the woman. Her remarks about Em being a coward proved Victoria to be as dumb as her dogs. Mac had met a lot of women and he’d take Em anytime. On the other hand, if stranded on a desert island with Victoria, Mac would probably end up drowning her at some point.

  “I think Em handles herself pretty well,” Mac said. Victoria’s smile crumbled. “Em?” She reared back and looked at him down her nose. “Really?”

  Mac smiled. “You bet.”

  “You sure we’re talking about the same woman.” She pointed to her sister. “She’s afraid of her own shadow.”

  Mac reached over and put his arm around Em. Before a protest could escape, he leaned down and captured those pouted lips. Immediately they were back in the hotel, in each other’s arms, hot, sweaty. Need wrapped around him like a warm blanket on a winter’s night, as they climbed heights he’d only imagined.