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“He was just about to say he’ll help us,” I told Dakota. My eyes pleaded with him before turning back to Markus. “Right?”
Markus spat and wiped more sand from his mouth. “Why would I help you?” he asked again. “The last time I saw you, you told me I no longer exist.”
“Kyle said that yes,” I confirmed. “But he’s not here right now. And he’s not the one coming to you for help. I am.”
“You and this asshole who can’t even land a—”
“Please! Markus! Do you want back into Di Spatia or not?”
He laughed out loud. So did Dakota.
“Back in?” the ex-mercenary sneered. “Back in? I want my whole company back! The one Jason Briggs — and all the rest of you — stole from me.”
“As if any of your men would ever work with you again,” Dakota snarled. “After what you did.”
In my mind’s eye, I could see the whole thing coming to blows. Dakota would pummel Markus. Then his men would show up with guns. They’d see him lying in the sand, battered, bloodied…
“Please,” I begged. “The both of you. Listen to me now, just for a minute. After that you can tear each other’s heads off for all I care.”
Dakota’s chest heaved, but he went silent. They both did.
“You wronged people,” I said, nodding to Markus. “But first someone wronged you. You were about to tell me who those people were. And you were about to connect them to the same people responsible for Jason’s disappearance, and for Kyle and Ryan. Am I right?”
The ex-mercenary took a break from staring daggers at Dakota just long enough to look back at me. He nodded.
“And you,” I said to Dakota, “you need this man’s help. You need to hear him out. You need to realize he might be the only person who can possibly aid us.” I raised my voice sternly to maintain control. “This isn’t about you Dakota, or what you want. It’s about Kyle, and Ryan, and Jason. It’s about keeping them all safe.”
His breathing slowed. His gaze dropped.
I had him.
“Now enough of this bullshit macho posturing. You want to vindicate yourself Marcus? Before everyone and the eyes of Di Spatia?” I whirled on him pointedly. “Then tell us what you know.”
The tension was broken. Both men’s shoulders slumped.
Thank God!
“Fine,” Markus said. “I’ll tell you everything, but we should do it on the road. If things went down the way I think they did, there’s not a lot of time.”
Dakota nodded quickly. “Finally something we agree on.”
The old mercenary smirked rather than drop some snide reply. “I need to gather a few things,” he said finally. “Get back to your aircraft and have it ready. I’ll meet you both there in an hour.”
I let out a long, relieved sigh as he pushed past us. His back was still covered with sand as he began the long climb back toward his gated villa.
“Oh and by the way,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m flying.”
Thirty-Five
SAMMARA
The ride back was tense and sullen, both men unwilling to concede control. Somehow I’d talked Dakota into giving up the pilot’s side of the aircraft. He still sat in the co-pilots seat however, making small rudder adjustments with his feet and generally driving Markus crazy.
“So the person you need to know about is a man by the name of Goddard,” Markus said over the headset. “Ring a bell?”
“Colonel Goddard?” Dakota chimed in.
“That’s the one.”
