Primary Valor by Jack Mars (booksvooks TXT) 📗

the door. Her heartbeat was so loud that it seemed to fill thewhole empty room. If there was someone on the other side of that door, he could probably hear her heart, too.

Therewere no sounds outside this room. She tapped on the door, three times. Suddenly, someone behind the door was moving toward it. A shadow was there, on the other side. Some sort of bolts,one near the top and one near the bottom, were pulled back. The door opened.

Thefirst thing she saw was a rifle that hung across a man’s chest,with the barrel up high and the gun’s strap around the man’s neck. After a moment of shock, she saw the man himself. He was small and dark,with deep-set eyes. He had dark hair. He wore a green uniform. His arm rested on the barrel ofhis rifle, which was strapped on so high, it was almost to his chin. The gunseemed so natural on him it was almost as if he was born with it attached.

The man looked at her without emotion.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she said.

Theman said nothing. His eyes were flat. She knewhe understood her, because he jerkedhis head to the side, indicating the way. He took a step back and let her come out, then positioned himselfin front of her. She followed him.

Theymoved down a narrow stone hallway. It seemed like they were underground, or ina submarine deep beneath the ocean. The trip took no more than a dozen steps. There was an unpainted wooden door at the end of the hallwith the initials WC carved into it. The man pointed at the door.

“Bathroom?”she said.

The mannodded and said nothing.

She pushed the door open and rushed in. Thetiny room afforded her a small sense of privacy. It was tiny, maybe three orfour feet across. The walls were painted dark green. The toilet itself wasgross, disgusting. There was a dark circle of rust inside the bowl.

She suddenly realized that she hadn’t showered in a long time. Shewanted to wash her hands very badly. She wanted towash her entire body. But it wasn’t to be. There was no sink in this room. Therewas no shower.

She came out. The guard was leaning against the wall like a statue. He was like some tool that had been left behind, a mopmaybe, or a vacuum cleaner. When he saw her, he nodded his head, directing herback to the room where she woke up. She was supposed to go back to the room. Shewas going to be a prisoner inside there.

He puther inside the small and dark room again. She heard him on the other side,fiddling with the bolts, sliding them back into place. Then she was locked inand silence fell. No sounds. No sunlight. No people. Nothing at all. She wasjust utterly alone.

Shedrifted, dozed, and fell asleep.

Only towake up again, now, in the same horrible place. She stared across at the blackdoor, realizing what had awakened her this time. Someone had pulled back thebolts. Maybe the man with the gun had returned. Maybe he was going to hurt her.Maybe he was going to kill her.

The doorcreaked open, light from the outside hallway flooding in. She blocked her eyeswith her hand. A silhouette stood there.

“Goodmorning, 21,” a woman’s voice said.

It wasthe woman from the airplane. “I’m Mistress Elaine,” she said. “You may haveforgotten. You should call me Mistress.”

Thewoman was dressed in a bright green wrap, over what appeared to be ayellow-green one-piece bathing suit. She had a sun hat on her head, withsunglasses perched on top. She wore sandals on her feet. In one hand, she helda rod or switch like the one she had wielded on the airplane.

“It’stime for you to get out of bed,” the woman said. “Today is your big day, and weneed to get you prepped and looking your best.”

“What isthe big day?” Charlotte said. Her voice still sounded like a croak. Her vocalcords were out of use. Her lips were chapped. Her throat felt dry. She coulduse a glass of water. Or a gallon.

“Today’sthe day you meet him,” the woman said. “I hope you brought your appetite,because we’re going to have a nice breakfast on the patio, then get you allcleaned up and beautiful for him. You’ll want to make a good first impression.”

“Who ishe?”

Thewoman’s stark emerald eyes seemed to show surprise. “Don’t you know by now? He’sthe man who owns you.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

8:05 a.m. Eastern Standard Time

Pistol Pete’s Van & Truck Rental

Wilmington, North Carolina

 

 

“This was supposed to be an easyjob.”

Luke was tired. Usually by now, twenty-fourhours into an operation without sleep, he would have reached for a Dexedrine. Probablymore than one. But he hadn’t brought any, and neither had Ed.

They were sitting in the caracross a busy road from the truck rental lot, Pistol Pete’s Van & TruckRental. Morning traffic zipped by in each direction. A tall, heavyset guy hadarrived half an hour ago. He had turned the sign in the office window aroundfrom CLOSED to OPEN just a few minutes ago.

Luke was on the phone with Trudy. Theyhad passed her all of the names and places Louis Clare had given them. It was along list. When he broke, he broke like a wave. They had left him tied up atthe safe house. A couple of agents from the South Carolina Bureau ofInvestigation were on their way there. They were going to take him intocustody, a little more official this time.

Clare was going to be answering alot of questions in the days ahead. Or he could choose to remain silentinstead. He did have that right.

“Swann just came in,” Trudy said.“We’re going to feed this stuff into intelligence and police databases all day,see what turns up. Mug shots, aliases, who’s alive and who’s dead, who’s injail, who might be in that area. It’s a lot.”

“Good,” Luke said. “Can you do meone more favor?”

“Sure,” she said. “Name it.”

“Can you send a prescription ofDexedrine pills for Sem Goethals to a pharmacy around here? I’m beat.”

“Luke!”

“Just let me know,” he said.

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. Inthe meantime,