And she might never see Owen again.
She got out of the car. Her heart thumping, she shifted her shirt. The wire attached to her skin was scratching her.
“Jonathan, please don’t let me down,” she whispered.
Of course, she had no way of knowing if her brother could hear her. She had to assume he could. They’d checked the connection, after all.
Deep breath in, long breath out. She marched towards the house. Jackson was currently on a leave, which was a stroke of luck. Though she would’ve found a way to get to Afghanistan if he hadn’t been, but that would’ve made this so much harder.
She had no doubt that news of Bryan’s murder and her involvement had rushed through the base like a swarm of hungry rats. There had probably been newspaper articles and even TV coverage. A crazed woman killing her boyfriend on a military base was a newsworthy event.
Well, to hell with them. To hell with everyone. To hell with Jackson. That’s what Owen would have told her. To hell with them all.
Her anger gave her strength. Yes, good. She needed that.
All she needed was to talk to Jackson. She knew he was divorced and lived alone. After some surveillance, she and Jonathan also knew he didn’t usually go anywhere or have any visitors during lunchtime.
She stood before Jackson’s door and could hear his voice booming through it. Bastard. He was always loud, his presence always palpable. Amber applied her knuckles against the door vigorously.
He opened the door after a few moments, his phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder. The foyer behind him was large, with a big staircase leading upstairs. He filled the whole room, and Amber felt as if she were back in the torture room. There were no instruments of torture in the modern, clearly expensive house. But the man was more dangerous to her than all of them combined.
“Just get your ass down here and show me your game,” he said in his thundering voice. Then he erupted into laughter so loud Jonathan’s eardrums must have popped from where he sat listening through the wire.
“I’ll call you back,” Jackson barked into the phone and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans.
He looked like a predator sighting the weakest animal in the herd, and an icy trickle of sweat snaked down her spine.
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” he said slowly and stood to the side.
“Major,” she said as way of greeting and walked inside.
He shut the door with finality.
“Aren’t you hiding?” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to save you from the capital punishment that you deserve.”
He raised his eyebrows, clearly amused, and came closer to her. Then he took his cell phone out.
“You have thirty seconds to tell me why you’re here, and then I’m calling the military police.”
“I have evidence against you, Ronald,” she said. “Evidence of your drug smuggling, proof of your motive for killing Bryan. I’ve come to give you the courtesy of turning yourself in and getting a better deal. If you don’t, I’ll give them the evidence.”
His amused expression fell for a moment, but it returned quickly. He looked her up and down, but not in a pervy way. In an assessing way. Did he suspect she was wearing a wire?
“I don’t know what drugs you’re talking about. And me killing Bryan—that’s just bullshit.”
But he wasn’t calling the police. He wanted to know what she had on him.
“Is it?” she said and walked farther into the foyer. That might be a mistake. He could try to cut off her exit. “Then why aren’t you dialing?”
“What evidence do you have, Amber?” he said, pronouncing the word “evidence” as though it were in quotation marks.
“You ship the drugs on sky trains. And you have a man on the inside who oversees the deliveries and doesn’t let the dogs around. I know all about Aman Safar, and I know all that because Bryan was helping you. He wanted out, and he threatened to tell on you. That’s why you killed him.”
He shook his head, his eyes turning dark and threatening.
“Princess, wake up. I want to know what the fuck you’re smoking to get these ideas.”
He wasn’t budging. She had to up her game, which meant taking bigger risks.
“Okay,” she said and took a few steps towards the exit. “I gave you a chance.”
He moved so fast she didn’t see him. He slammed his palm against the door, his mouth turning into a snarl.
“No. You haven’t given me anything. What exactly do you have on me?”
Amber was rooted to the spot. Not exactly a confession, but she was getting closer. Sweat misted her skin. She looked straight at him. Man, she had much less courage than she was trying to show.
“Aman is ready to come forward and give a statement against you.”
His expression went blank. “What?”
“He made a deal with the US government. His family is going to be moved to the US while he serves time in prison. He’s terrified of you.”
“You’re bluffing.”
She cocked her eyebrow. “Do you want to try and find out?”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t born yesterday, sweetheart. You can’t prove shit.”
“Then remove your hand and let me go.”
His palm gathered in a fist on the door, his knuckles white.
Instinctively, her body tensed. He was going to snap. But he might snap physically at her and not confess, and she needed him to say the words. Those words would set her free.
This wasn’t working. She needed to up her game even more.
“Everyone in your drug organization is terrified of you,” she pressed. “Bryan was ready to rat you out. Now Aman. You’re done, Ronald. Because you can’t shut Aman up. You can’t kill him like you did Bryan. The only chance you have is to come forward.”
He narrowed his eyes. “How did you get here?”
She blinked. “What?”
“You’re in hiding. No one knows where you are. You were last seen in Scotland. How did you cross international borders? Fake passport?”
“Yeah. Fake passport. Why?”
“Did anyone help you get this information?”
Wires connected in her brain. He wanted to know if anyone knew she was here. In case he wanted to make her disappear.
“No,” she said, hoping it would ease his suspicion. “No one knows.”
Something changed in his eyes. In one slick motion she almost missed, he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the door, choking her. Her throat clenched, pain tearing it apart. She desperately gasped for air, but only gagging sounds came out. In an onslaught of panic, she clawed at his hand around her throat, but it was useless.
“You should have stayed away, princess. You should have hidden like a bug under a rock.”
Her lungs were burning. Her vision was going black. Jonathan was probably going crazy listening to her choking. No one except him knew she was here. Everything was a bluff, orchestrated to get and record a confession out of Jackson.
And she was losing. She was about to die. For nothing.
“Ah,” he said, pressing his fingers tighter around her neck. “Look at you. You have the same look of helplessness Bryan did just before I pulled the trigger.”