Point of Contact

“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.

24

Jack dashed in the front door of their guesthouse, caught in a sudden downpour. He shook himself off just as Paul approached in his slippers and pajamas with a bowl of cereal in his hand. He wiped away a drop of milk perched on his lower lip.

“Have fun?”

“Fun? Yeah. I guess so.”

Paul frowned when he saw Jack’s red, swollen knuckles. “Anything I need to know about?”

“No.”

“Seriously. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Jack pushed past him. “I just need a shower. And a drink.”

Paul wondered what the hell Jack was up to. And why was he being such an ass? He crammed another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Must have had a bad night.