The aftermath of a shocking crime sends Jack Ryan, Jr., down a path that leads to international destruction in the latest entry in this #1 The quiet of a Texas night is shattered by the sounds of screeching brakes, crumpling metal and, most shockingly, rapid gunfire. The auto accident Jack Ryan Jr thought he witnessed turned out to be a professional hit. Jack may be too late to save the victim, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to let the hitters escape justice. He’s got just one lead--a meeting the victim was going to. When Jack shows up instead, he’s drawn into the seedy underbelly of a small, Texas town and the cold case of a college student who vanished from its streets. Jack is left with nothing but questions. Who wants it to look like the victim was drunk? Why does someone want an innocent witness killed? And most of all, what’s a team of South African hitmen doing in the Lone Star State? His quest for answers will take Jack from a quiet Texas road to the middle of an international conspiracy and may just cost him his life.

Autorentext

Don Bentley

Leseprobe
1

Briar Wood, Texas

The Mustang's headlights cut through the night as Jack Ryan, Jr., dropped the six-speed manual transmission into fourth, accelerating through the winding turn. Between the roaring 450-horsepower V8, the wind in his face, and the mild Texas weather, he didn't even try to temper his broad smile. In fact, the only thing making this night drive less than perfect was the empty passenger seat beside him.

As if on cue, his phone rang.

Jack eyed the caller ID on the console, and though he wouldn't have thought it possible a moment ago, his grin somehow grew even wider. Where the caller's contact information had once been a first and last name, the personal details now bore just a single word in all capital letters.

fiancée

Jack liked the sound of that.

"Hey, baby," he said, answering the call as he eased off the gas, allowing the throaty engine noise to drop to a low rumble. Renting a muscle car convertible was a fine way to tool through the Lone Star State, but the ambient noise was hell on phone conversations.

"Hey yourself. I'm lonely. Know anyone who'd want to keep me company?"

Lisanne Robertson's husky voice sent shivers down Jack's spine. His right foot wanted to nudge the accelerator at the thought of the raven-haired beauty sitting alone in their Rainey Street hotel room. But as much as he wanted to free the horses lurking beneath the Mustang's hood, he resisted the urge. Flooring the pedal might get him back to Austin a couple of minutes sooner, but that would be at the expense of listening to his future bride tell him how much she missed him.

Not a trade Jack was willing to make.

"Lisanne Robertson," he said, catching the slight slur in his fiancée's words, "are you tipsy?"

"Get your cute self back here and find out."

This time it wasn't just the engine's RPMs Lisanne's words set racing.

Looking at the Mustang's dashboard clock, Jack did some quick math. He was currently heading west along Highway 79, somewhere in the no-man's land between the tiny towns of Rockdale and Thorndale. While the scenic ranches and farmers' fields had been quite beautiful when he'd made the drive to College Station earlier today, there wasn't much to see this time of the night.

That said, each of the little towns along this stretch of two-lane highway functioned as a de facto speed trap. While Jack could legally do seventy miles an hour on the meandering back road, the speed limit dropped to thirty-five within each city's incorporation limits. Texas cops were both professional and polite, but they were also quite happy to capitalize on the municipal payday offered by lawbreaking out-of-towners. Still, the longer he listened to the raspy words coming from the other end of the line, the more a speeding ticket seemed like a fair bargain if the money meant seeing his future wife that much sooner.

"You told me you weren't drinking tonight," Jack said.

"That was the plan, but Dawn & Hawkes were playing at Karlie's favorite bar, so we went to see them. Karlie may have told the bartender that I'd just gotten engaged, so he tried to buy me shots. I passed."

"But?" Jack said.

"But some college kids tried to pick us up," Lisanne said. "Somehow they didn't see my shiny new ring."

As a former college kid, Jack thought Lisanne might have been giving her would-be suitors far too much credit, but he was enjoying the sound of her voice way too much to interrupt.

"What happened next?" Jack said.

"I told those frat boys that I was waiting for my fiancé."

"How'd that work?" he asked.

"Not well," she said. "They started buying drinks for Karlie instead."

He smiled as he touched the brakes.

Karlie was Karlie Dill-Lisanne's college roommate and still one of her closest friends. After she'd shared the happy news with her parents, Lisanne had called Karlie. Never one to miss an opportunity, Karlie had suggested that Lisanne bring her fiancé to Austin so that she could meet the lucky boy.

While Jack loved traveling, he hadn't been so keen on accompanying Lisanne to a girls' weekend until his future bride had uttered the magic words-Texas A&M football. The Fightin' Aggies were at Kyle Field, and better yet, tickets were still available.

In a quick fit of negotiations that Jack thought boded well for their future nuptials, he and Lisanne had hammered out an agreement. They would fly from D.C. to Austin Sunday morning and rent a room at the famous Van Zandt near Rainey Street. Jack would drive over to College Station for the football game while Lisanne spent Sunday afternoon and evening catching up with Karlie. Jack would return after the night game ended, and they would meet Karlie for lunch on Monday and then grab the evening flight back to D.C.

Simple.

Or maybe not.

"Still haven't heard the part about you getting tipsy," Jack said.

"I'm getting there," Lisanne said. "After Karlie sent the UT kids packing, we were about to call it a night. But the bartender said he was working on a new drink, and he really wanted some feedback. He begged me to try it, Jack."

Jack just bet he had.

Lisanne Robertson had inherited her olive complexion, thick black hair, and deep chocolate eyes from her Lebanese mother. Her American father had bestowed upon her a desire to serve that took the form of a couple of years as an active-duty Marine followed by a stint in law enforcement before coming to the attention of an organization named The Campus. Lisanne's lean, athletic frame reflected her vocation.

So did the fact that she was missing one arm below the elbow.

The bullet that had taken her arm had nearly ended her life. For Lisanne, like Jack, physical fitness was a job requirement, not a hobby.

When he'd left for the football game, Lisanne had been wearing a fitted Longhorns T-shirt and tight jeans that showcased miles of legs. That outfit, coupled with her smile, had been enough to cause Jack to reconsider his sojourn to College Station. Knowing his fiancée, Lisanne had significantly upgraded her wardrobe before hitting the concert with Karlie. Pretty girls certainly weren't scarce in the legion of bars that called Sixth Street home, but Jack thought that Austin wasn't altogether ready for the phenomenon that was Lisanne Robertson.

He sure wasn't.

"What did he make you?" Jack said.

"He called it the McConaughey. It was like a margarita, but spicy. It was so good."

The emphasis Lisanne put on her last two words made Jack chuckle as he wisely refrained from asking just how many of the concoctions she'd sampled before rendering her verdict.

A drink named after Austin's favorite son had to be good.

"Is that why you called?" Jack said. "To…