Devil's Due: A Thomas Caine Thriller (The Thomas Caine Series Book 0) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Andrew Warren
crazy?" Naiyana muttered.
"Something was off about that guy," Caine said. "You saw it yourself. That's why you wouldn't go back to his hotel room."
The beautiful girl nodded as they turned the corner on the small corridor that led behind the kitchen. "He bad man I think, but I talk him into short time. We bang; he leave. Now instead, big mess. And where I find another guy in this weather? I got kid to feed, you know!"
"I know, Naiyana. I'm sorry. I was just worried for you."
Naiyana opened the rear door, and the thick, hot air from outside exploded into the corridor. Caine squinted out into the alley that ran behind the bar. It was as devoid of life as the flooded streets out front.
Naiyana put her hand on his face, and her expression softened. "You are good man, I know."
Caine shook his head. "No, Naiyana. I'm not a good man."
"You good to me. You look out for me, other girls, too. But sometimes, when I look in your eyes..." She hesitated. "Sometimes, I see something inside you, looking back at me. Something scary."
The sirens outside grew louder. The beautiful girl leaned in close, and her skin smelled of baby oil and jasmine. She kissed his cheek. "You go now. Take care of hand. Stay low for while. I come see you later, OK?"
Caine nodded. "Right."
He headed out into rain.
"Hey!" Naiyana called after him.
He turned, and saw her leaning in the doorway. Her smile was radiant, and for a second, he felt as if the sun had managed to pierce the clouds above with its dazzling rays. "Thank you," she said. "You good friend to me."
He waved and started away, quickening his pace. Within a few minutes, the bar, the blood, and the body of the big Russian man were all left in the gloom behind him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Caine stared out the window of his small, sparse apartment. The place was clean, to the point of being sterile. No art hung on the walls; no pictures of family or loved ones sat on his desk. He never knew if he would have to leave in a hurry, so he kept his furniture and belongings to a minimum. The place felt empty.
The building was far enough away from the walking street that the noise of the crowds was usually a distant murmur. But tonight, the only sound he heard was rain pelting the windows and the muddy streets below.
He watched the sheets of water run down the cracked pane of glass. The street lights reflected a halo of red and green circles in the droplets on the window. He thought about what had happened earlier in the day. The fight. The blood.
Naiyana had said he was a good friend. Caine wasn't sure that was true. He looked back over his past, the things he had done. The lives he had taken. All in the interest of preserving democracy.
He suppressed a grim laugh. The interests he had been preserving were those of his handler, a high-level case officer in the CIA. Him, and other men like him. They claimed they were acting for the greater good, and Caine had believed them. Over the years, he had seen the cost their vision of the future claimed in blood, a cost they relied on others to pay. Caine had begun to wonder if the price was too high.
It had been Rebecca, a woman he had worked with briefly in the CIA, who had awoken something in him ... the ability to feel again, the desire to see more in himself. To be more than just a weapon, a blunt instrument sent out to murder.
Their affair was brief, but in their time together she had touched him. Changed him. But it was that love, that desire to change, that forced him to remove her from his life.
Caine was betrayed.
To cover up an unsanctioned black op, his handler arranged to have Caine and his partner disappear.
Caine saw his partner murdered in cold blood, gunned down by the targets they were sent to eliminate. Caine managed to survive the attack, but suffered through a period of brutal captivity and
"Something was off about that guy," Caine said. "You saw it yourself. That's why you wouldn't go back to his hotel room."
The beautiful girl nodded as they turned the corner on the small corridor that led behind the kitchen. "He bad man I think, but I talk him into short time. We bang; he leave. Now instead, big mess. And where I find another guy in this weather? I got kid to feed, you know!"
"I know, Naiyana. I'm sorry. I was just worried for you."
Naiyana opened the rear door, and the thick, hot air from outside exploded into the corridor. Caine squinted out into the alley that ran behind the bar. It was as devoid of life as the flooded streets out front.
Naiyana put her hand on his face, and her expression softened. "You are good man, I know."
Caine shook his head. "No, Naiyana. I'm not a good man."
"You good to me. You look out for me, other girls, too. But sometimes, when I look in your eyes..." She hesitated. "Sometimes, I see something inside you, looking back at me. Something scary."
The sirens outside grew louder. The beautiful girl leaned in close, and her skin smelled of baby oil and jasmine. She kissed his cheek. "You go now. Take care of hand. Stay low for while. I come see you later, OK?"
Caine nodded. "Right."
He headed out into rain.
"Hey!" Naiyana called after him.
He turned, and saw her leaning in the doorway. Her smile was radiant, and for a second, he felt as if the sun had managed to pierce the clouds above with its dazzling rays. "Thank you," she said. "You good friend to me."
He waved and started away, quickening his pace. Within a few minutes, the bar, the blood, and the body of the big Russian man were all left in the gloom behind him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Caine stared out the window of his small, sparse apartment. The place was clean, to the point of being sterile. No art hung on the walls; no pictures of family or loved ones sat on his desk. He never knew if he would have to leave in a hurry, so he kept his furniture and belongings to a minimum. The place felt empty.
The building was far enough away from the walking street that the noise of the crowds was usually a distant murmur. But tonight, the only sound he heard was rain pelting the windows and the muddy streets below.
He watched the sheets of water run down the cracked pane of glass. The street lights reflected a halo of red and green circles in the droplets on the window. He thought about what had happened earlier in the day. The fight. The blood.
Naiyana had said he was a good friend. Caine wasn't sure that was true. He looked back over his past, the things he had done. The lives he had taken. All in the interest of preserving democracy.
He suppressed a grim laugh. The interests he had been preserving were those of his handler, a high-level case officer in the CIA. Him, and other men like him. They claimed they were acting for the greater good, and Caine had believed them. Over the years, he had seen the cost their vision of the future claimed in blood, a cost they relied on others to pay. Caine had begun to wonder if the price was too high.
It had been Rebecca, a woman he had worked with briefly in the CIA, who had awoken something in him ... the ability to feel again, the desire to see more in himself. To be more than just a weapon, a blunt instrument sent out to murder.
Their affair was brief, but in their time together she had touched him. Changed him. But it was that love, that desire to change, that forced him to remove her from his life.
Caine was betrayed.
To cover up an unsanctioned black op, his handler arranged to have Caine and his partner disappear.
Caine saw his partner murdered in cold blood, gunned down by the targets they were sent to eliminate. Caine managed to survive the attack, but suffered through a period of brutal captivity and
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