Forced to Kill

“Where?”

“Utah. Some Australian exchange students were camping in a remote area of Lake Powell a few miles from Bullfrog Bay when they heard a houseboat. One of them had a cheap night vision scope, but it was good enough to see what looked like a body being dumped in the water. It was the middle of the night, around one-thirty am. They called nine-one-one and reported it. At daybreak, the federal park service sent divers down and found the body. It had been wrapped in chain-link fencing.”

Harv took it all in, then reached out to touch her arm. “You did the right thing calling us, Holly. But it has to stop here. You can’t tell anyone Nathan has the same markings on his body. His life depends on it.”

“You think the murderer is Nathan’s interrogator from Nicaragua?”

“No doubt about it. It’s his unique signature. As far as we know, Nathan’s the only person on the planet to survive Montez de Oca, and I intend to keep it that way.”

Chapter 4

With a sickening twist of his stomach, Nathan felt a dark force stir. No! Not here.Not in front of Holly. He couldn’t let it happen. She must never see that part of him. He left the sedan and walked toward the hangars. He pulled his cell and keyed a memorized number.

An older man’s voice answered. “I haven’t had my coffee yet. This had better be damned important.”

“It’s echo five.”

Nathan knew he’d have General Robert “Thorny” Hawthorne’s full attention now. Echo five was his old code designation from his covert missions in Nicaragua. Back then, General Hawthorne had been his commanding officer. Thorny had since risen to the position of commandant of the Marine Corps. Nathan’s successful missions in Nicaragua had helped boost Thorny’s career by a star. There were unspoken debts in play-in both directions-neither of which would be mentioned.

“Well, echo five, something tells me I’m not going to like this call.”

“An old friend of ours from Central America has surfaced. A body was discovered with signature markings.”

Thorny didn’t respond.

“You still there?” Nathan asked.

“Yes.”

“Containment may be impossible.”

“We need to meet.”

“Agreed.”

“Today,” Thorny said. “I’ll move my appointment up with Lieutenant General Pearson, MarForPac’s CO. He won’t like the change of plans, but he’s a good man. He’ll deal with it. I’ll come to you. You know where.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll call you from the air with an exact ETA. Count on around twelve-hundred.”

Nathan ran the calculation in his head. They’d have to leave Sac Exec by no later than 0700 hours. They weren’t getting much sleep tonight, if any. “We’ll be there, echo four and me.”

“You’re both invisible.”

“Understood.”

“Twelve-hundred.”

Nathan looked toward Holly’s sedan. No doubt she and Harv would be talking about him, and understandably she’d be feeling some apprehension-probably more than some. His own apprehension reached much deeper. He didn’t know how this development would affect him, and he desperately wanted to avoid slipping back into the fractured state that had nearly driven him to suicide. He’d moved past that years ago. Had it not been for Harv’s unyielding friendship, he would have ended his life. Harv had given him purpose. Started their security company. Invested their money. Protected him. He owed Harv more than he could ever repay in ten lifetimes.

He closed his eyes. It was one thing to be tortured in private, but publicly? In front of women and children? For days on end? Juan Montez de Oca had been especially twisted in his methods. He’d gathered dozens of local villagers to witness the interrogations. One day, while Montez watched with casual indifference, one of the mercenaries who fancied himself an expert with a bullwhip had demonstrated his skills. During the unthinkable pain and blood loss, Nathan had discovered a dark side of himself, a savage part of his psyche that he’d come to call the other, for lack of a better term. This hate-filled personality had made it possible for him to cope with the pain and humiliation of being brutalized in front of an entire village, including women and children who’d been openly sobbing. Nearing death, Nathan had lost count at twenty-eight lashes.

Now, fourteen years later, he felt an uncontrollable impulse to scream into the night until his throat bled.

No. I won’t do it. It’s not who I am anymore.

Nathan relaxed his hands and slowed his breathing.

He couldn’t allow Montez to ruin his life, his friendship with Harv, and everything he’d developed with Holly. He’d imagined going after Montez many times, but never tried. As far as they knew, Montez had dropped off the face of the Earth more than a decade ago, apparently exiled from his own country, never to be heard from again.

But if Holly’s photo was authentic, Montez had returned. And not only returned, he’d become active again, torturing and killing another victim-and probably more than one.

Nathan couldn’t turn his back on this, but going after Montez involved considerable risk. He knew Harv would demand to be part of any operation against Montez. Could he risk that? Harv had a wife and two sons.

One thing was certain, Montez couldn’t be allowed to operate like this again. On that, he and Harv would strongly agree. So be it. But first things first. Montez had to be found.

Holly looked toward the hangars. “How long will he be out there?”

“If he were by himself,” Harv said, “it could be hours. But he won’t keep us waiting that long. He’s going through all kinds of scenarios in his head right now. If-then scenarios. If this happens, I’ll do this. I’d also be willing to bet he’s making a phone call.”

“To whom?”

“General Hawthorne.”

“The Marine Corps commandant?”

“Yes, our old CO. He helped us with the Bridgestone case, looked into the DOD records for us.”

Holly remembered. “What can you tell me about Nicaragua? The man who did this.”

Harv sighed. “We called him Monty Goose, but his full name is Colonel Juan Montez de Oca. Oca means “goose” in Spanish. Nathan made up the nickname to antagonize him. Montez hated it.”

“Why would Nathan want to anger his interrogator?”

“Despite the physical pain, interrogation is a mind game more than anything else. A strong-willed victim can turn the situation around on his tormentor, but it usually comes at a very high price.”

“Are you saying Nathan purposely made it harder on himself?”

Harvey joined her in the front seat. “What I’m saying is, he could have made it easier, but didn’t.”

“Montez didn’t break him?”

“Not entirely. Nathan kept changing his story. Montez never learned the real truth, or even extracted Nathan’s real name. Even if he had, he couldn’t have verified anything. We were off the books. No paper at all. So in a sense, Nathan broke Montez, not the reverse. At the end, he was torturing Nathan purely out of frustration and anger.”

“I can’t imagine what he went through.”

“Few people can. Nathan is the ultimate unsung hero who will never, ever, be publicly acknowledged for his sacrifice to his country. He is the finest, most honorable man I’ve ever known. I’d give