Bound to be Tested: Emergence, Book 3 (20 page)

He knocked and then turned to her, took her face in his hands and kissed her hard. He set his forehead on hers for only a moment, and then he released her and jogged back to the car. He was gone so fast she didn’t have time to say the ten thousand thoughts running through her head. It didn’t matter. Words weren’t necessary.

Still she wanted more minutes.

Jason opened the door behind her. She stared at the street where the illusion of Jude’s car had been. The only way she knew it had been real was that she now stood on Jason’s doorstep.

Jason took her hand and pulled her inside. He shut the door and embraced her in a thick hug.

Then the tears fell. There were no sounds. Only tears that fell without ceasing. Jason led her down the hall to his spare room, pulled back the covers and sat her down. He pulled off her shoes and tucked her into bed, clothing and all. He sat next to her.

The tears still fell as she stared up at him through the haze.

He stroked her hair away from her face. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. I’m here for you. Sleep now. We’ll talk later.”

Heavy with sorrow and exhausted from a night of sex and stress, Lori let sleep take over. She closed her eyes against the world and drifted off.

Chapter Nineteen

Leaving Lori the first time had been the hardest thing Jude thought to ever endure. Leaving her again this morning had been ten times worse.

She hadn’t spoken a word. He was glad for the reprieve and angry at the same time. In some ways it would have been easier if she’d gone down kicking and screaming.

Jude had a man to kill. That man wasn’t in the Middle East this time. He was on American soil. He was close enough Jude could practically sense his presence. He knew Abdul Sharik better than anyone alive.

It didn’t matter that Jude had already accomplished this mission. Clearly he hadn’t killed Sharik quite well enough, because the guy was back from the dead and hunting Jude down with revenge fueling his veins.

Sharik would have reinforcements. Not the men he’d had with him the last time Jude’s team had confronted him on
his
turf; those men were all dead. But a new group had been groomed to guard him. They would be bigger, better and more numerous.

How the man had slipped into the country was anyone’s guess, but luckily Special Forces had picked up on his location and followed him from New York to the Southeast for two days. He was in the vicinity now, holed up in an abandoned warehouse.

Jude had people too. Some of the same guys he’d worked with from his Special Forces unit, some new guys. All were trained to kill. All were excellent shots. None would be as good as Sharik.

The man personified death. He killed first and asked questions later. The list of his victims was so long no one knew quite how many people had died on his watch.

Jude would be added to that list today, but Sharik would be going down with him.

Jude gripped the steering wheel hard with both hands as he drove the twenty miles to the army base to meet up with his men. They would have a plan in place, every detail plotted out, but in the end, it would all be in vain.

Jude had no intention of anyone else’s blood being shed at the altar of Sharik. One man would give up his life today. And that man needed to be Jude.

Jude pulled through security and watched in the rearview mirror as the security gates closed behind him.

His commanding officer stood outside the door of the building Jude was approaching and nodded. Stanton said nothing as Jude parked and exited his car. He was dressed in the civilian clothes he’d left the house in. He’d change later.

The entire event was unprecedented. He’d already been reassigned as an advisor after his vacation. But this was an unusual circumstance. His unit needed him.

Jude had spent years of his life tracking this asshole and following his every move. Most of his surveillance had been spearheaded from this army base. When intelligence told them Sharik’s precise location, Jude had led his Special Forces unit into the Middle East to nail this bastard.

The mission had been one of the most dangerous in US history. Neither Jude nor any of his men believed they would return unscathed. And Jude had intended to die trying. Several of his troops had died that day, but Jude had miraculously survived.

Sharik and all of his people had been killed in that underground bunker. Except for the small detail that Sharik had apparently not. Jude had personally shot Sharik in the chest and watched him fall. He’d leaned over while the dying man took his last breath. But the gunfire had continued around him as reinforcements had moved into the bunker.

Trapped and without a means of escaping this turn of events, Jude and his unit had turned around and fired hundreds of rounds at the incoming terrorists. They’d killed all of them, even with their backs against the wall. Jude had lived. Five of his men had lived also. Bodies had lain strewn across the bunker on top of one another.

Jude had taken one more look at the wide-eyed, open-mouthed face of Sharik, buried beneath several of his men, and fled the bunker.

That son of a bitch had faked his death, however. And Jude would live to regret not firing one last round into Sharik’s forehead. He’d looked the man in the eye. Even removed his night-vision gear to peer at Sharik’s face.

That had been two months ago. Sharik knew who his target was. And the man was on a mission to kill, as always.

Jude entered the conference room and nodded at the group of men waiting to be briefed. He slipped into an open seat and listened while the officer in charge presented everything intelligence had gathered.

There were twelve men with Sharik, eight of whom had joined him after his arrival, having already been living on American soil. That fact alone made Jude cringe.

The group was organizing at a warehouse about fifteen miles away. They’d arrived early in the morning. They were surrounded from a distance, but picking them off without killing civilians was going to be difficult.

This time the civilians were US citizens completely unaware of the threat to their safety right in their neighborhood.

It wasn’t the first time suspects would be apprehended on US land, but it would likely get the most media coverage because the chances of apprehending anyone quickly and quietly were in the nonexistent range. Sharik wasn’t a man to go down without a fight. He either died or everyone else did trying to kill him.

The resulting fight would be loud and dangerous for anyone in the area.

At this point, no civilians were believed to be close by.

Jude sat back in his seat, extended his legs and crossed his hands in his lap. He knew Sharik better than anyone in the room. All this yammering was for naught. There was no telling what that man might do, but it wouldn’t be whatever anyone expected.

Stanton finished his briefing. His final words were, “We mobilize in thirty minutes. Our first goal is to surround this son of a bitch so he has no escape. We’ll do that about a quarter of a mile from the warehouse, in a giant sweeping circle.”

It was a good plan. Sound. Reasonable. Encouraging even. After all, the man was known to be inside that warehouse, plotting with his men.

Except Jude knew something was off. It was too easy. Either Sharik wasn’t there or he had a motive to cause his own “capture” that fell right into his own design.

As the men filed out of the room, Stanton grabbed Jude’s arm. “A word, please.”

Jude hung back and waited for everyone to leave. He turned to Stanton and waited.

“I know you’re half-cocked, and I get that. But I don’t want you doing anything stupid out there today. You hear?”

Jude nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Stanton tipped his head and narrowed his eyes. He grinned then. “Why am I even bothering to speak to you? You’re going to do things Cavanaugh’s way no matter what the personal cost. My words are futile.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to see you dead, Jude. You’re a good man. I don’t like this.”

“I don’t like it either, sir. But it is what it is, and we wouldn’t be in this position if I had followed through with the job in the first place.”

“You know this isn’t your fault. Every man in that room attested to the fact that you left Sharik there dead. You couldn’t have known he was faking. The signs were against it.” Stanton stood taller and stared hard at Jude. “You know I never would have called you in here today if it weren’t for the hit on you.”

“I know.” Jude nodded. “And I would have been pissed enough to shoot you myself if you hadn’t brought me back inside. I made a choice that day, and I missed my opportunity by not nailing him with an extra-dead bullet to the head. That’s on me. Those were my men. I never should have led them out of there without making certain.” Jude paused. “Did you ever get a trace on that damn call I keep getting?”

Stanton shook his head. “No. It’s coming from a disposable cell. No way to trace its origin. Probably one of his men checking up on you or trying to make you nervous.”

Jude shook. “Well, it worked. I’m beyond nervous. I’m fucking pissed.”

Stanton shook his head again. He set a hand on Jude’s shoulder. “Let’s get him this time.”

Jude nodded. “Affirmative, sir.”

Jason let Lori sleep all morning. He didn’t hear a single noise from the guest room. The woman had to be exhausted. Wrung out. Her body needed rest.

He made soup, knowing the comfort food would be a welcome meal when she emerged.

At one o’clock she hadn’t surfaced, so Jason eased the door open to check on her. He glanced around the room when he realized she wasn’t in the bed and stepped inside. She wasn’t even in the room. The adjoining bathroom door was open and she wasn’t in there either.

“What the hell?” He spun in circles. How could she have left without him knowing? And where could she have gone? She didn’t even have a car.

His chest pounded. He’d promised to take care of her, make sure she was okay. He couldn’t do anything of the sort if she wasn’t anywhere to be found. Just for good measure, he looked under the bed and in the closet, as if she were in hiding. Ridiculous.

Jason returned to the living room to grab his cell. First he dialed Lori and got her voicemail.

Then he dialed Carlton, who thankfully picked up on the third ring while Jason paced the room.

“Hey, Master J. What’s up?”

Jason would have smiled normally. Carlton could be such a comic when it came to addressing people. “Lori’s missing.”

“What?” Carlton yelled. “What do you mean missing?”

“Jude brought her here this morning and I thought she’d been asleep all morning. I just went in to check on her and she’s not there. I have no idea how she walked out the front door without my knowledge, but somehow she managed.”

“Why would she do that? You’re the closest family she has.”

“Yeah, I was hoping you knew something.”

“Maybe she went back to her apartment.”

“Let’s hope. Thanks, man. I’ll call there next.” Before Carlton could utter another syllable, Jason hung up and pressed speed dial for her apartment. The phone rang several times. There was no answer.

Jason slumped onto the couch and leaned his elbows on his knees.
Think.
His cell rang again within a few seconds. He yanked the phone up, hoping to see Lori’s name on the caller ID.
Carlton
. He answered.

“Anything?”

“No. No answer.”

“This isn’t like her.”

“Yeah, she was pretty distraught. She might have been in shock.”

“Why? What happened?”

Jason paused a moment and then unloaded. “Jude left.”

“What do you mean
left
?” When Jason remained silent, Carlton continued, “Oh, don’t fucking tell me he pulled a disappearing act on her again. I’ll hunt his ass down and kill him myself.”

Jason smiled. He’d have to get in line if Jason didn’t know better this time. “Yeah, well, it wouldn’t do any good. But nevertheless, that doesn’t explain where Lori ran off to.”

“Shit. I’ll go check the club.”

“I’ll go see if she’s at Jude’s house. Maybe she went there to cool off.”

“Good plan. I’ll call you in a bit.” Carlton broke off the call, leaving Jason holding the phone and wondering what sort of rabbit hole he’d descended.

Chapter Twenty

Jude inched forward behind his closest buddy from the force, Ike. They squatted down behind a group of bushes and peered through their binoculars at the warehouse. “What do you think are the chances he’s really in there?”

Ike glanced over his shoulder with a wry grin. “Slim to none. He doesn’t operate this way.”

“That’s what I was thinking. So this has to be a decoy.”

“That’d be my guess.”

“Why?” Jude wanted his best man’s take on what was going down.

“Got me, man. It’s crazy. Why would he hole up in this shack with all his people and wait for us to come surround him? It’s like he knows we’re out here and he’s going to come up from behind. He’s an asshole of the largest sort, but he isn’t stupid. He’d be a sitting duck if he were in there.” Ike shook his head. “I’m not buying it.”

“Me neither.” At least they were on the same page. “So what do you think we should do?”

“Watch our backs, that’s for sure.”

Jude agreed, and for emphasis he turned around. Nothing.

A voice came over Jude’s earpiece. “We move forward ten yards on three. One, two, three.”

Jude stayed on Ike’s back as they duck-walked closer to the warehouse. “What the fuck is this guy playing?” His question was rhetorical and Ike didn’t answer.

They watched, straining to see any sort of movement behind any of the windows. They shouldn’t. The glass was too high for a man standing on the ground, but just in case.

“Ten more on three. One, two, three.”

Everyone moved. They’d been here for hours. Something didn’t feel right. Jude didn’t like the way his skin crawled. He looked through the binoculars for the millionth time. As far as he could tell, there was no evidence anyone was in the warehouse, let alone one of the world’s most-wanted terrorists.

“What sort of intel are we following here?” Ike asked. “I don’t get it. If they were in there, they’d be coming and going. Are we sure they aren’t onto us?”

Jude said nothing. He strained to see any sign of life in a panoramic sweep of the area. “Did anyone check to see if there was some sort of underground system running from this warehouse?”

“Yep. Nothing on the grids.”

A distant noise caught Jude’s ear. A vehicle. It grew closer. Hell, it barreled right past where he and Ike were kneeling and straight up to the front door of the building. How had it gotten past the security check point on the road?

Jude pressed his mic. “What’s going on, Stanton? How’d this truck get here?”

Silence. Static. And then his earpiece lit up with foul language. “What the fuck is going on out there? Unit four, respond, please. Unit four… Hello? Unit four, please respond.” Stanton screamed a few more obscenities. “Goddammit, unit four, what are you doing? Fuck…”

Jude held still. If the security checkpoint was breached, it could be that unit four was dead. No wonder his hackles were at an all-time high.

One man jumped from the truck and rapped on the door to the warehouse. Jude watched him through the binoculars. Middle Eastern. Someone opened the door and stepped out. The two men conversed for a moment, the guy from the truck pointing at the truck bed.

The man from the warehouse nodded and then flipped the hatch down and reached in to drag something from the bed.

Fuck, not something, someone. There was no mistaking the human form. Someone medium-sized, wrapped in a gunny sack and wiggling to get free. The man from the truck threw the body bag over his shoulder and hefted it higher before entering the building behind the second man.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What the hell was Sharik playing at? A hostage? Who? From where? Why?

The door closed. Shit.

Jude took a deep breath. He narrowed his gaze on the entrance to the warehouse, hoping someone else would come out or the man from the truck would leave so they could grab his ass on the road. No such luck.

Stanton droned on in Jude’s ear, but he was still eying the front door.

“So much for our theory that Sharik wasn’t in there,” Ike whispered.

“Yeah.” Jude leaned forward and held a branch aside. “Although it could just be his men.”

“Do you think it’s all staged?”

“Yep, but that doesn’t change the fact that we need to move in. If they’re holding someone hostage, we need to pick up the pace.” Jude pressed the button on his mic. “Stanton.”

“Yeah, I know, dammit. I’m working on it.”

Jude waited another minute and then spoke to his commanding officer again. “We need to move, Stanton. What’s the word?”

“I can’t get anyone from unit four even individually.”

“So we move in.”

“Yes. On three. Everyone respond please. Units one, two, three and five, do you copy? On three we move in.”

The leader of each group confirmed he got the message, and Stanton gave the signal. “One, two, three.”

Jude stood, his legs stiff from crouching for so long. He kept low but moved at a near run for the side of the building. His gear was heavy. He hadn’t worn it in months. And it would hardly protect him from the kind of artillery Sharik would be carrying.

He hit the side of the building at the same time as everyone else. They had the place surrounded. It made his stomach roil. What the fuck was Sharik’s game? That bastard was on Jude’s last nerve. He touched his pocket to confirm his grenades were still attached. He had two. All of them did. It was part of their uniform. But no one else in his unit was planning to use theirs. That was between Jude and his God.

He’d love for this fight to turn out another way, but the deck was stacked against him. Abdul Sharik was going down today one way or another. And Jude knew his best bet was to beat the man at his own game—suicide bomber.

Jude held his rifle with his right arm and pointed at the entrance to the building with his left. Men on the other side of the door nodded at his signal.

Jude glanced both ways, making sure the truck he was inching behind wasn’t a trap.

Jude held up three fingers consecutively, indicating the men closest would go on his count. When he got to three, Jude and five other men jumped in front of the door. It was a flimsy metal closure. Nothing they couldn’t kick in with their feet, and they did. In two solid roundhouses from his strongest men, the door swung open.

The entrance was dark and Jude waited a second to enter, letting his eyes adjust. His men scattered into the warehouse, flanking him.

Someone clapped. Just one person, as though they were at a fantastic stage performance, but all alone. Suddenly overhead lights came on. “Welcome, my friend. So glad you decided to join us.” Sharik’s voice, which Jude had only ever heard a few times, reached in and grated on his nerves.

The man stood in the center of the wide-open space of the warehouse, pacing around in a circle. Four other men with high-power weapons stood ready to shoot.

Sharik stepped around as relaxed as if he were having a dinner party. He didn’t carry a weapon that Jude could easily see. Though Jude knew the man was armed in some capacity.

Men were spaced around the room at every corner. People were going to die here today. Jude was going to be one of them. He regretted that some of his men were going to go down too. There would be no way to avoid it.

However, none of that was nearly as important as the squirming body tied in a sitting position to a chair in the middle of the center circle.

Sharik looked to his men. “Where are our manners?” His English was halting, but nearly perfect. “Have a seat, Sergeant Cavanaugh. You’re just in time for the show.”

Jude kept his gaze on the struggling person on the chair. No sound came from the bag. Whoever was inside was gagged and might not be getting enough air.

God almighty, Jude hoped the rest of his men had a plan that involved some sort of rescue. The last thing he wanted was a dead civilian on his hands.

The hostage squirmed again, violently, making the chair fall over. The person hit his head hard and stopped moving.

Fuck. Hopefully the hostage was knocked unconscious, not dead.

Sharik spun on his heel at the commotion. But when he leaned down to right the chair, a bullet rang out across the room. Whoever was in the bag was better off supine. Righting whoever it was would only make him a target. Jude’s men knew that. The warning shot ricocheted off the wall behind Sharik. It came from the open doorway.

They’d been instructed to take Sharik alive if at all possible. Jude had never expected that to be a choice, but he’d do his best to follow orders until it was no longer realistic.

Sharik righted himself, holding his hands up. He chuckled. “All right, boys. No need to get feisty. I was just going to help our friend here.”

“Leave him be,” Jude said. “Unless you want to leave here in a similar body bag, I suggest you leave the hostage alone. Your beef is with me, Sharik, not the hostage.”

Sharik stepped back, a smirk on his face. “How nice of you to come, Sergeant Cavanaugh. I knew you would join us. After all, it’s a party.” Sharik spread his arms wide, indicating the entire space was his domain.

Another shot rang out and hit Sharik in the leg. A second followed, hitting his other leg before he realized he’d been hit the first time. Sharik screamed and fell to his knees. “You’re a dead man, Sergeant Cavanaugh.”

“I’m ready for whatever you’ve got.” Jude flinched as gunfire rang out all around him.

Jude ducked behind a stack of pallets and aimed at every bastard in the room who wasn’t Sharik. It wasn’t hard considering the man now lay on his side on the floor, moaning in pain. He was only a few feet from the hostage and dragged himself closer an inch at a time.

The last thing Jude wanted was for that rat bastard to get to the hostage and kill someone innocent. He switched his aim and shot a warning round at Sharik’s extended arm.

Sharik wailed and used his only free limb to hold the injury.

Men fell all around him as his Special Forces unit picked off Abdul’s supporters. Many were probably American citizens, planted years ago and lying in wait for an opportunity such as this.

Jude’s team flooded in behind him and spread out. Through his earpiece he could hear his commander reminding everyone to take Abdul alive if at all possible.

Jude kept one eye on Sharik and one eye on his surroundings. He worked his way around the edge of the wall until he could pounce on Sharik from behind. And then he took his opportunity.

Sharik screamed when Jude landed. Jude dragged the man toward the closest wall and held him against his chest as a human shield. He gripped his chin and stuttered into his ear, “You fucking bastard. Is this how you wanted to die today?”

Jude was still confused about Sharik’s motives. After all, the man had been a sitting duck.

Sharik chuckled as though Jude had told him a joke, not the voice of man suffering from three gunshot wounds. “You don’t get it, do you, Cavanaugh?”

Jude squeezed his face harder. “I guess I don’t,” he gritted out. “Why don’t you enlighten me, you fucktard?”

“I don’t give two cents about dying. As long as I take you down with me, that’s all that matters.” He laughed manically, yanking his chin free and tipping his head back into Jude’s chest.

The room was loud. Bullets rained everywhere.

“Better tell your men to be careful. I have it on good authority that pretty lady over there is something special to you.”

Jude froze. “What the fuck are you mumbling about, asshole?”

Sharik nodded at the still form of the hostage. “If she didn’t already kill herself first.” He laughed again. “She was feisty. I couldn’t keep her still.”

Jude saw stars. He held Sharik and shook his head, trying to clear it.
Lori
? Was that even possible? He’d left her in Jason’s hands this morning. No way.

He needed to shake the feeling and do his job. Sharik was playing with him. Jude knew that. And even if Sharik wasn’t and he’d somehow gotten his slimy hands on Lori, Jude still needed to concentrate on the job. The hostage would have to wait until the job was done.

Jude set his pistol to Sharik’s skull and pressed hard enough to leave an indentation.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“And why is that?” Jude gritted out.

“This room is rigged to blow. In fact, it’s a wonder your men haven’t set off the explosives themselves with all that gunfire. You shoot me, you kill us all.”

Jude tipped his gaze to Sharik’s free hand, the one that had been shot. Sure enough the man held up a remote device—and he was barely holding down the button.

Jude glanced at the body lying tied to the chair.
What if it is Lori?

It all came clearer now. Sharik hadn’t come here just to kill Jude. He was on a suicide mission, as were all his men. Their instructions—to take out Jude at any cost.

And therein lay the crux of every mission in the Middle East. These bastards didn’t have any value for their own lives. They preyed on others with ease, because dying to them was a means to an end. It wasn’t something they had any hesitation about. But what gave them the upper hand was knowing the value Americans did put on human life.

In fact, they found it humorous that in the United States, even the most loathsome evil were kept alive, not slaughtered like cattle.

Jude stared at the button, Sharik’s finger beginning to shake with the stress of holding it down with his damaged arm. “What’s it going to be, Cavanaugh? Either you surrender to my men or I kill all of yours.”

Sharik was crazed. He didn’t give a fuck that his own people would also die in an explosion. Jude narrowed his gaze on Sharik. “My men are willing to die for their country if it means keeping the likes of you from taking any more innocent lives.” God how he hoped it didn’t come to that.

Jude knew the only reason Sharik was bothering was to make Jude’s last moments more unbearable. Jude’s gaze shifted to the unmoving body on the floor again. The sack covered the person entirely. It was the right size to be Lori. Fury made his blood boil, and now wasn’t the time for that.

He needed a level head. He had to make a decision. If Sharik were to be believed, no one would survive the explosives, but with so much gunfire, Jude doubted the explosives truly existed. His best bet would be to fake as if he were going to take himself and Sharik out with a grenade and hope no one else died when Sharik released that button.