Point of Contact

23

Lian did most of the heavy lifting on the mai tai. Jack took a few sips, just to be social, after hitting his limit on beer. In the back of his lizard brain Jack wondered if Lian’s flirtation mixed with copious amounts of rum and beer might lead to something more interesting, but he pushed the thought away. He would never take advantage of an inebriated woman.

When the last of the drink was consumed, Jack paid the bill and the two of them made their way to the elevator and the subbasement floor, where her vehicle was parked.

“You okay to drive?” Jack asked.

“I think so. But just to be certain, do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

She handed him the keys as they headed back to the northeast corner of the huge garage where the Range Rover was located. It was a beautiful evening, the sushi was good, and he’d had enough to drink to feel completely relaxed without being impaired.

That’s when he heard Clark’s voice in his brain again. “Head on a swivel, kid!” He couldn’t help smiling to himself. Situational awareness was always a good idea, even in paradise.

Every parking space was full. That made sense. The hotel, casino, restaurants, and other amusements were packed shoulder to shoulder with tourists and locals as they had passed through upstairs, but down in the garage no one else was around. Lian’s gait was steady but a little slower than before, so Jack slowed down as well. Their footfalls echoed on the concrete. Making their way to the farthest row, Jack noticed that the security camera on the concrete pillar was disabled by a disconnected cable and the overhead light nearest the Range Rover was smashed.

“Wait here,” Jack said.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jack scanned his surroundings again. Didn’t see anything. He pushed the alarm disable on the key fob. The Range Rover beeped twice and the interior lights came on.

Just enough light to shine on the muscled mai-tai punk leaning against the SUV. He grinned.

“Hallo, mate.”

Jack noted the thick Aussie accent. “You looking for a ride home, bud? I can call you a cab.”

The Australian straightened up to his full height. He was even bigger than Jack remembered, at least an inch taller and twenty lean pounds heavier than he was.

“You see? I come down here for a friendly little chitchat and all I get is more rudeness.” He pointed a thick finger at Lian. “Her I get — she’s a stuck-up little bitch. I know the type, believe me. And you? A Yank, and rude little wanker you are, too. Manners is what you need.”

Lian shouted from behind, “Get your hands off me!”

Jack whipped around just in time to see Lian struggling in the grip of another thug from the bar, his ropy arms wrapped around her from behind. He was smiling and whispering something in her ear that made her growl and struggle even harder.

Jack started to move in her direction when he caught sight of the shadow of the third man from the bar circling around behind him.

Jack turned back and faced the ringleader, older and larger than the others. He recognized the tat on the big man’s cabled forearm. The sword Excalibur, with flames. SASR — Special Air Service Regiment.

Australian Special Forces.

Jack lifted his hands chest high, palms out, a surrendering gesture. “Dude, look, I don’t want any trouble.”

“Well, mate, you found it just the same.”

The man who was circling in the shadows stepped out. He stood to Jack’s left, four feet away.

The tattooed leader darkened. “I just wanted to buy the lady a drink—”

Jack stepped cautiously toward him, just three feet away now, his eye on the Rover’s interior light.

“I know. I’m sorry. I was in a bad mood—”

“And flashing your filthy money around.”

Jack stepped his right foot forward, closing the distance, and reached with his left hand for his left rear pocket. “Money? Sure. No problem.”

Just then, the interior light snapped off.

Just what Jack was waiting for.

He lunged forward and threw a sharp jab at the big man’s throat with his open left hand. The man tried to scream but gurgled instead, clutching at his windpipe.

Jack stepped backward and pivoted left, turning forty-five degrees, using the momentum of his twisting torso to help propel his exploding right fist straight into the nose of the other man charging directly at him. Jack felt breaking cartilage and hot blood gushing onto his knuckles as the man’s head snapped back with a crack. He crashed to the ground at Jack’s feet, splayed out in front of the gasping thug, now on his knees.

“FUCK!” echoed off the concrete behind Jack. He spun around in time to see the last Aussie doubled over in front of Lian, clutching his balls. Lian launched a kick, the toe of her shoe slamming underneath his jaw. Jack winced at the crack of his breaking teeth. The man flew backward, arms high in the air, knocked out cold before he thudded into the concrete in a heap.

Jack ran over to her. “You okay?”

“Caught me by surprise.” She turned to the downed man. “Bastard!” She spat at him, started to lunge at the body, but Jack seized her by the arm.

“You already nailed him. No point in killing him.”

She whipped around at Jack, her eyes blazing. “Let go of me!”

Jack let go, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “You win.”

She ran a hand through her long hair to get it out of her face. The gesture calmed her down. “It’s those assholes from the bar.”

“Really?”

She shot him a look.

“Sorry.” Jack glanced around the garage. Still nobody around.

Lian picked up her purse, dropped at her feet when she was grabbed from behind. “I’m calling the police.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I think they’ve suffered enough—”

“JACK!” Lian screamed.

The tatted thug was rushing straight at Jack, his big hands open, grasping for his waist.

Jack stepped aside just in time and threw a punch at his temple as the man was sailing by. It landed. The force of the perfectly timed blow crashed the man’s brain against his thick skull, knocking him out instantly. The Aussie tumbled to the concrete, smacking it like wet meat.

Jack rubbed his knuckles and turned to Lian. “Like I said, they’ve suffered enough, and I’d like to avoid any publicity. So would you, I’d think.” He pointed out the disabled security camera. “Nobody upstairs saw anything.” He nodded at the downed thugs. “And they sure as hell won’t file a complaint.”

“Maybe you’re right.” She looked at the two bodies Jack had put on the ground. “Not bad for a financial analyst.”

“Let’s hurry, before someone shows up. Grab any ID you can find.” Jack pulled out the big man’s wallet and shoved it into his pocket before seizing him by the boots and dragging his unconscious body between two parked cars, careful to get him out of the way of any traffic. Lian pilfered the smallest man’s wallet, then grabbed his shoes and did the same while Jack hauled the last man up by the lapels and propped him against a pillar.

“Let’s get out of here before they wake up,” Jack said.

“Give me my keys. I’m driving.”

Jack tossed her the keys. “You sure?”

“Trust me, I’m sober now.”

“I’d hate to see you in a fight when you weren’t drunk.”

She fought a smile as they climbed into the Range Rover. She fired up the engine and pulled away, careful not to draw any attention to their departure.

Lian sped east along the East Coast Parkway, heading back to Jack’s place. Jack kept checking his side-view mirror, scanning for any cars that might be following. He noticed Lian doing the same in the rearview mirror. Confident they weren’t being followed, Jack pulled out the big man’s wallet and rifled through it.

“According to his Australian driver’s license, your boyfriend with the drinking problem is named Archy Hamilton, from Melbourne.” He didn’t find any military identification. Maybe he was just a wannabe special operator or had a relative in the service.

Lian hit her turn signal and merged into the next lane. “I have a good contact in the SPF. I’ll run all three IDs through her first thing tomorrow.”

“Any ideas?”

Lian shook her head. “I’d say they were just three punks looking for trouble.”

“I guess they found it.” Jack wasn’t so sure. Lian caught the tone in his voice.

“You think we were being set up?”

“Did you see the man’s tattoo? On his forearm?”

“Yes. It looked familiar.”

I bet it did, Jack said to himself.Especially if you’re the one that hired him. He checked the side-view mirror again. “Special Air Service Regiment. Australian Special Forces. Some seriously badass operators.”

“What would an Australian operator be doing here?”

“Oh, I dunno. An operation?”

Lian’s face masked with confusion. “You’re kidding, right?”

A few drops of rain hit the windshield. The automatic wipers turned on.

“Just have your friend look into it. Maybe they can get access to his service records, if he has any.” Jack knew that if the man really was black ops, his identity would be hidden from the prying eyes of a metropolitan police inquiry.

“You know, not every ex-serviceman is a hero. Sometimes bad apples fall into the barrel. I’d bet you another mai tai that if he is ex-service, he has a criminal record.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Jack dropped the subject for now. If Lian or her brother were behind this, she’d cover it up.

He stole another quick glance at her. The shadows of the raindrops on the windshield marred her otherwise perfect face.