Page 88 of Protecting his Secrets

Jacobs stared at him, his hand on the butt of the gun never wavering, his eyes empty of any life. “My job. I may not be fit for public military service, but I can still do a damn good job when I need to.”

“I can imagine you do. What job have you come here to do?” He didn’t want to know, but any extra time he could get was a bonus. There was no way of telling Brett there was a problem, but if Jacobs had killed or hurt Carlos, someone might find him and call the police.

“You both need to die. It’s what the plan says.”

He said it without emotion, and Nick’s heart seized. There would be no getting out of this for either of them.

“Now, who’s first?”

****

Chapter 28

Malachi

Malachi locked his knees to stop from sinking to the ground because he didn’t want Jacobs to pull the trigger, thinking he was trying to get away. But something he had said sparked the researcher in him. There was “a plan.” If that was the case, even if that plan was to kill them both, they might be able to keep him talking for a bit before they got to the finale.

“Will you tell me what happened to make them think you weren’t fit for duty?” he asked, his voice wobbling.

Jacobs met his gaze, and a chill went down his spine. That was a man who had nothing left to lose. The stare lasted a second longer than most would, making Malachi stop breathing before Jacobs raised his eyebrows. “Why do you care?” The gun remained at his forehead, steady as anything.

Malachi understood the undertone of the question, and he had two choices. He could tell the truth, or he could lie. The truth might get him angry, or it could make him soften slightly because he was truthful. If Jacobs realised he lied, it could set them up for disaster.

He went for the truth. “I don’t. But there are plenty of people who would. If you want to tell me your story, I could write it down.”

“You won’t be alive to publish it, though,” Jacobs said, the matter-of-fact tone spreading even more fear through him.

Malachi swallowed. “I can publish it before,” he croaked.

Jacobs glanced over at Nick when he stepped to the side, the gun moving against his forehead, and his breath hitched. The man reached behind him and something jangled. Jacobs threw the item at Nick, who caught it reflexively.

“Lock yourself to the radiator. Where I can see you.”

Nick opened his mouth to argue but met Malachi’s gaze and snapped his mouth shut again. Shoulders lowered, Nick did as he was told, and the clicks of the handcuffs being snapped into place sent Malachi’s heart rate through the roof. They had to do something, but what?

The gun lowered from his head, and he held his breath until Jacobs stepped back. “Where’s your laptop?”

Malachi straightened, an idea forming. “In my bag.” He gestured to the backpack on the breakfast bar.

“Take it out. But remember, I know tech stuff, so don’t mess with me. This will be aimed at you the entire time,” he said, waving the gun.

“I won’t try anything.”

Malachi shuffled over to his bag, pulled his laptop free and rested it on the bar before opening the lid. He logged in, as usual, and settled onto the stool, grateful he could sit. He glanced at Nick, who stood, slightly hunched, next to the window. Nick smiled and nodded, and it made Malachi feel easier about the situation. Not that it was a great situation, but at least he’d managed to give them a little more time.

Jacobs sat beside him, facing Nick, but able to see Malachi, too. He tilted the screen a little lower.

“Make sure I can see the screen,” Jacobs said.

“Sorry, is that okay? I need it lower or the reflection from the window stops me from seeing it.”

Jacobs stared at the laptop, which he wouldn’t be able to see properly from where he was, and nodded slowly. “Make it good.”

Malachi nodded and hovered his fingers over the keys. “You tell me in your own words, and I’ll write it down.”

Jacobs went quiet, seemingly contemplating where to start. “My entire family is in the Army. Generation after generation signed up with no clue what it would do to them. Or to the ones left behind. Mum was never the same when Dad died. He had been captured and tortured, but eventually rescued, but it was too late. Even though she was still in the army, she wasn’t really there, not even with her family.

“The Armybecamemy life. I lived for it, breathed for it, pretty much died for it, and when they deemed me unfit because of something that happened during an event they have now swept under the rug, they have the audacity to say, ‘It’s how it’s done.’” He shook his head. “Finding a new purpose was hard at first, but when I was approached by those who had received the same treatment I had, it was easy to join. It makes sense, what they say.”

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