Eternal Nights Page 3

  Whistling under his breath, he headed toward the front of the house. In a few minutes, he’d see Kendall again. He’d missed her like hell.

  Wyatt paused; instinct and experience told him someone was in the shadows of his porch before he walked out the door. “So much for privacy,” he drawled as his executive officer unfolded himself from his chair.

  “No one likes a smart-mouthed kid,” Flare shot back.

  “Haven’t we spent enough time together, Chief Cantore?”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t be here long. I have plans.”

  Wyatt hitched his thumbs through his belt loops and leaned back against the front of the building. “What’s up?”

  “Word is The Big Chill called you and the other Spec Ops officers in for a meeting tomorrow morning,” his XO said. “You have any idea what it’s about?”

  Hell, he should have figured Flare knew about that. The noncoms had a grapevine that would make Hollywood gossip mavens green with envy, and his warrant officer was plugged in good and tight. “No. The message didn’t say. What do you know?”

  Flare looked grim. “From what I heard, it sounds like a formal declaration of hostilities with the coalition is coming sooner rather than later and about half the Spec Ops teams are being rotated home in preparation.” His chief leaned against the stone railing. “I was hoping the rumor was wrong.”

  Muttering a curse, Wyatt rubbed both hands over his face. “Are we one of the teams going?”

  “No clue about that. Could be, although the others have been here longer.”

  “We both know that won’t mean jack shit.”

  His second-in-command nodded and they fell silent. Damn, he wasn’t ready to go back to Earth. If he left and Bug stayed here, he’d lose the ground he’d gained with her, and God knew, forward progress had occurred one agonizing inch at a time. He thought of how close he’d come to finally tasting her. He wanted more than that almost-kiss. A lot more.

  Wyatt put thoughts of Kendall aside. That was personal, and he had to consider his men now. “You get a time frame on how soon it’ll be before we’re officially at war?” They’d been fighting unofficially for a while. Prior to being assigned to J Nine, his team had spent nearly three months solid out in the field.

  Shrugging one shoulder, Flare said, “You know as much as I do. A week till the transport is scheduled to leave for Earth. Two weeks for the teams to report home and another week or so for them to get into position. Unless some event sparks it sooner, I’d say we’re looking at about five, maybe six weeks max.”

  With another curse, Wyatt sat in the chair his chief had vacated. He didn’t doubt Cantore. The man might look like some surf bum—hell, he’d been a surf bum before joining the army—but he was the sharpest damn soldier Wyatt had ever met. He’d trust the chief with his life, but more important, he’d trust Flare with Bug’s life and Wyatt would never risk her.

  Flare took the other seat. “This isn’t a surprise.”

  “No, but I was wishing...” He let his voice trail off. After a moment, Wyatt said, “You know that I’ll tell you and the men as much as I can as soon as I can.”

  “I know.” Flare paused, and when he continued, it was clear he was attempting to break the somber mood. “We can’t go home yet. I haven’t made it to the ocean here or caught any waves.” He studied Wyatt. “Maybe you should try to stay on The Chill’s good side. Might make him more amenable to keeping us around. You officers are always good at ass-kissing.”

  Wyatt flipped off his XO and ignored the chuckle. Leaning back in his chair, he looked out on the Old City. If the team was sent back to Earth, he’d have come up with some new strategy to win Kendall. No way was he starting over at square one with her, not after everything he’d already done.

  There were times Bug frustrated the hell out of him, times he wondered why he went to so much effort for her. But then she’d smile at him, and he knew she was worth every sleepless night, every cold shower. Wyatt blew out a harsh breath. Besides, he might be worrying for nothing. There was a fifty-fifty chance that he and the team would be staying.

  “Is there anything else we need to talk about? I want to catch up with Kendall in time to eat with her.”

  “I saw her hurrying by about twenty minutes before you came out of the house, but she wasn’t headed for the mess hall.”

  “Which way was she going?”

  Wyatt followed Flare’s pointed finger. “Oh, shit,” he said under his breath. The pyramid was that way, and she was obsessed with that damn pile of rock. He knew why she was attracted to it, and he didn’t like it. But it was just some stone hallways and a few rooms filled with relics, nothing to worry about now.

  To be safe, though, he’d better find her and keep her out of trouble. He put his hands on his chair arms to push to his feet. Flare called after him, but Wyatt ignored his XO. Nothing mattered except finding Kendall.

  Kendall. What the hell was she up to? He had a bad feeling about this. Very bad.

  Almost involuntarily, he glanced up at the pyramid. The capstone was glowing bloodred. Shit. Wyatt started running, not sure why he thought the color was a sign of trouble. All he knew was he had to find Bug. Now.

  *** *** ***

  Kendall carefully scanned the area near the temple from the recessed doorway of an adjacent structure. Though she’d made it here without running into anyone except Colonel Sullivan, she was erring on the side of caution. She couldn’t risk being seen, not at this odd hour of the day. If word reached the wrong ears...well, she didn’t want to think about it.

  After pushing her hair off her face, she wiped her clammy palms off on the seat of her fatigue pants. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous. How many times before had she entered without anyone knowing? A hundred? Two hundred? Really, this was simply one more excursion.

  Five minutes. That was all she needed to get to the room, grab a few pictures, and get back out. But she didn’t move.

  She never tired of looking at the temple. Its color seemed to change on a whim, and the capstone was even more mercurial. How could she not be fascinated?

  Shifting her attention, she glanced at the small square to her left. For an instant, her abdomen clenched, and she felt dizzy. A sense of aversion filled her body. Kendall blinked to clear her head. Damn, maybe she shouldn’t have skipped lunch today.

  Unsettled, she looked in the other direction and took in the enormous plaza stretching away from the opposite side of the pyramid. Steps rose in the square, starting at the base and ascending three quarters of the distance to the peak. Along the way, there were two altars—at least that’s what she called them—one at the top of the stairs, and the other much lower.

  She was stalling. Kendall knew it, but her stomach was tied in knots. Every time she thought about entering the temple, her heart rate increased and a feeling of dread settled in her chest. She wanted to leave. Wanted to forget about the pictures.

  Except running wasn’t an option.

  Not unless she wanted to watch another priceless artifact disappear. Not unless she wanted to live with the knowledge that her cowardice had aided the criminals.

  There was no reason for her to be reacting like this, and Kendall forced herself to move. By the time she reached the temple, her legs were trembling as if she’d run a klick full-out instead of walking a few hundred feet. Even her hands were shaking. Why the hell was she so scared?

  A burnished metal ring about five inches in diameter was at waist height. Without allowing herself time to think, she reached for it and pulled. Like everything else in the Old City, the large portal was in pristine condition. Despite its size and weight, it opened easily and without a creak.

  She stared at the passageway in front of her. It was well lit, the glow seeming to come from everywhere and yet nowhere. The experts were still trying to reverse engineer the technology, but no one had figured out the system of illumination yet.

  Kendall paused after closing the door behind her, and couldn’t mov
e any farther. It was as if some essential piece of her balked; she didn’t understand it. Why now and not the many times she’d come here in the past?

  The longer she delayed, the more dangerous this mission became. She had to deliver the evidence to Sullivan before dinner ended. Kendall couldn’t have anyone asking questions, and besides, time was critical. The smugglers could come to steal the statuette at any time.

  The realization was enough to propel her forward.

  Although the hall was wide enough that she couldn’t touch both sides if she stood in the center and extended her arms, she felt as if the walls were pressing in on her. She’d never been claustrophobic, but when she rounded the corner and lost sight of the door, her lungs seemed to seize up, and she gasped for air.

  The room wasn’t too deep inside the temple, but it seemed to take forever to reach it. Her eyes zeroed in on the figurine and her knees sagged with relief. It was still here.

  Kendall pulled out her digicam and carefully framed the shots. She knew she had to show where the statue was located or the pictures were worthless for her cause. After a quick review to ensure the images had turned out, she slid the camera back in her pocket and headed for the door.

  She was about halfway down the seemingly endless corridor when she heard voices.

  Damn, damn, damn! Wildly, she looked around, searching for somewhere to hide, but the hall was solid. No shadowy nooks or crannies would offer concealment. It was sheer luck that she glanced up and saw the ledge in the corner of the passageway.

  Though it was ten feet off the ground, it was directly above another rock projection, one that might give her enough of a boost to gain the top tier. She had to try. There were no other options, not that she could get to in time.

  Scrambling onto the first shelf, she reached for the one over it and began to pull herself up. Thanks to working out with Wyatt, her upper-body strength was better than it had been three months ago, but even so, her arms started to ache as she struggled to draw herself atop the ledge.

  The voices grew closer. Maybe it was adrenaline that gave her the extra impetus, but she made it up and flattened herself against the wall. Kendall checked her bag and adjusted it until it rested against her back. The ridge of rock was narrow—her body just fit—and if anyone looked up, she’d be seen.

  With her cheek pressed against the smooth stone, she kept watch on the passageway. The two men who came into view were dressed like she was, in camouflage pants and olive T-shirts, the uniform of choice on J Nine. No one was authorized to be in the pyramid tonight, but she couldn’t assume these men were part of the smuggling ring. The temple, after all, wasn’t off-limits.

  From her perch, she was unable to see their faces, and she didn’t recognize either voice. If she could glimpse the rank insignia on the left breast of their tees, she’d at least narrow the possibilities, but Kendall couldn’t see that either. She noted that both wore sidearms, and her hope that this was an innocent visit died.

  Only on-duty members of the security team were allowed to carry weapons inside the Old City. The MPs didn’t dress this casually when they were working and it wasn’t any of the Spec Ops guys.

  She continued eavesdropping, hoping she’d figure out who they were. The men were talking about the upcoming All-Star game and arguing over whether the American or National League would win. It was barely discernable, but both guys had a note of unease in their voices. She’d lay money that the nerves came from whatever it was that made people feel creeped out in here.

  They were out of sight, but not out of hearing range, when an odd scraping noise made her frown. What the hell was that? They hadn’t gone far enough to reach any of the rooms, let alone the chamber with the figurine, but it sounded as if they’d dragged something across the stone floor. The conversation was muffled now, but she could still pick up every word.

  A lull came and Kendall hoped that meant they were taking care of whatever they’d come here to do. She wanted them to leave so she could escape unnoticed. Sneaking out while they were so near wasn’t an option. If she could hear them, they’d hear her if she made any noise, and the way her luck was running today, she’d probably start a rock slide if she jumped down now.

  “He’s going to keep us waiting again,” one of them griped.

  “He always does,” the second man said, but he didn’t sound as irritated as the other guy.

  Despite her earlier apprehension, right now she was cool, calm, and clearheaded. If another person were coming, Kendall needed to be able to act without some stupid anxiety attack getting in her way.

  When the two soldiers went back to talking sports, she listened with only one ear. The rest of her was focused on the impending arrival of the mystery man. She had to be ready in case he glanced up. She couldn’t let him take her by surprise.

  She discerned the sound of footsteps before a figure turned into the corridor. Kendall didn’t dare blink as the man walked beneath her position. When she saw the bald spot on the back of his head, she felt certain it was Dr. George.

  “Gentlemen, I see you’ve accomplished nothing this evening.” The obnoxious superiority and the twang confirmed the ID she’d made. “The transport leaves in one week and these vases and urns need to be properly packaged.”

  Realization dawned. The temple was the ideal place for the looters to set up their headquarters; she should have guessed that. It was the one structure in the entire city that was universally avoided. She was probably the sole exception.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to put anything on this transport,” the more patient man said. “Word is that at least half the Spec Ops teams are being shipped home on that flight and it’s not easy to get much past those guys.”

  Leaving? Wyatt was leaving? Her stomach sank, but she pushed her dismay aside and concentrated on the men.

  “It’s not your job to think,” George said. “Your job is to follow orders. These items need to be aboard and they will be. There are buyers waiting.”

  “The buyers will be waiting for a long time if the goods are confiscated,” the edgier man argued.

  “I can’t believe you’re frightened of a few Special Operations soldiers. These men were picked for their ability to kill, not their brains. They’ll never know anything is wrong.”

  Kendall started shaking in fury. She’d been angry over the stealing of the relics, but to hear that ass disparage Spec Ops left her royally pissed. Wyatt, and men like him, risked their lives to keep idiots like George the Jerk safe. They routinely pulled missions that were incredibly dangerous, accomplished ops others deemed impossible. And that parasite had the nerve to insult their intelligence? She’d like to see him survive behind enemy lines with nothing except his wits to keep him alive.

  But then he’d never make it through Spec Ops training. He’d weenie out before the first day was over.

  George cut off his two accomplices when they started to disagree with him. “Let’s not waste my time. The decision’s been made. It’s your job to ensure that these pieces make the deadline.” There was more grumbling, but he talked over the top of the two stooges. “Did you want your share of the proceeds to go to others more willing to obey?”

  Dead silence.

  “Will there be any problem finishing this tonight?”

  “No,” came the grudging reply. “A couple more men are meeting us here to help with the packing.”

  “Good,” the doctor said. “Now I have one more assignment. Someone has put in an order for a specific item and it will be up to you to acquire it.”

  “What item?” It was the patient man again.

  “The pyramid. It must be stolen, readied for the trip to Earth and put onboard the transport.”

  The pyramid? Was he nuts?

  “The pyramid? Sir, no ship could take off from the surface with even one of the smaller blocks on board. There’s no way to send any of it back to Earth.”

  “Not this pyramid.” George didn’t add, you imbecile, but his tone
implied it. “In the master suite of the royal residence there are four obelisks that create a pyramid of light inside the bedroom. Each is a different color and approximately one foot in height. Weight is around fifteen pounds per stone and they’re positioned in the corners of the room on niches near the ceiling. Are there any other details you need to complete this task?”

  There was another silence; then with obvious hesitance, one of the men said, “I don’t think this has been thought through, sir. Not only is the royal residence situated in the middle of the section where we all live and work, but Major Brody and his wife live there. It’s going to be difficult to snatch those stones from their bedroom with two adults and a toddler to contend with, and just as hard to get away unnoticed.”

  “And Brody is former Spec Ops,” the other soldier added.

  Dr. George sighed loudly. “Don’t start that again. You’ll retrieve the obelisks before the ship leaves Jarved Nine, no matter what action you need to take to guarantee the procurement. This buyer, gentlemen, is someone you don’t want to disappoint.”

  Kendall’s eyes widened. Who the hell was this customer? As soon as she got out of here, she’d go straight to Colonel Sullivan and tell him what she’d heard. He wouldn’t brush her off this time. Major Brody’s wife was the colonel’s sister, and Kendall knew Sullivan would move heaven and earth to protect his family.

  “Sir, not to be the voice of doom, but this is a lot of merchandise to transport at once. We normally send a few items at a crack. Look around, we’ve got ten times more than usual for this trip. It’s going to be noticed, and when that pyramid goes missing, all hell is going to break loose even if we can grab it without hurting anyone.”

  The man definitely had a point. Part of the reason she hadn’t been able to prove anything was the minuscule amount pilfered, but maybe avarice was leading them to take bigger risks than usual.