Brad Thor - Full Black

It didn’t matter whether it made sense or not. Ralston had been around long enough to know that with a big enough hammer and the right amount of force, a square peg could be pounded through a round hole.

The longer it took for the police to find them, the more they were going to believe that at least one of them was guilty of something. Ralston didn’t have to wonder which one of them that would be. He knew all too well.

He also knew how his military background would be used as an excuse to allocate significant and extraordinary resources to the investigation. That was something he hadn’t thought of at first. The LAPD had a very deep bench, but when it came to hunting a guy like him, they would not be shy about asking for help. Very soon, they were going to have a former operator, if not a team of them, out looking for him. As soon as that happened, it was going to be nearly impossible for him to get to the bottom of what had happened. Every time he thought he understood his window of opportunity, it was suddenly slammed shut.

There was too much at stake, though, to let that deter him. If there was one thing he had learned early on at Delta it was that when God closes a window, it just means you need to kick open a door.

Whoever had sent that wet work team to Larry Salomon’s house was going to learn what a mistake it was to fuck with a Tier 1 door kicker.

But first he was going to need to figure out exactly who had sent that wet work team. For that to happen, he was going to need access to very special information-information that would not be easy to come by.

He knew who he had to call. He also knew that person had promised to kill him if and when he ever did.

“Not only do you have a lot of nerve, calling me,” said the voice on the other end of the line, “but you lied to my assistant, lied to her about one of my kids, to pull me out of a meeting?”

“I’m sorry,” replied Ralston. “I knew you wouldn’t take the call unless-”

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t have taken your call. In fact, I have no idea why I’m even still talking to you.”

Ralston knew why she was still talking to him, but he kept his mouth shut. They both knew. His giving voice to it would have only made her angrier, though, and that would have guaranteed the end of the conversation. Hot tempers ran in their family.

“Ali, listen,” he began.

“You don’t get to call me Ali.”

“Okay. Alisa,” said Ralston, relenting. He’d burned this bridge and he’d have to eat as much crow as she chose to dish out in order to be able to get across this river.

“In fact,” the woman plowed on, “the last time we spoke, I told you never to call me again.”

“I know you did. I wouldn’t call you unless it was important.”

“Important? You want to talk about important? My sister’s trial. That was important.”

Ralston had known, before even dialing her number, that she would go there. She still resented him. He didn’t blame her. Had their roles been reversed, he might have felt the same way.

“You were the only one,” she said. “The only one.”

She took a breath and Ralston didn’t attempt to fill the silence. She needed to vent, to be angry.

“Everyone testified against those two monsters,” she began again. “Everyone but you. And it’s because of you that those bastards never went to prison. They never served a single, solitary day for what they did to my sister. So fuck you, Luke. Fuck you.”

Ralston had met Alisa Sevan’s younger sister, Ava, not long after arriving in Los Angeles. He had been invited to his first “Hollywood” party, a Saturday afternoon barbecue at a director’s home in Malibu.

He saw Ava chatting with a group of friends out by the pool. She was stunning. She was wearing a bikini with a brightly colored sarong tied provocatively around her hips. Her thick black hair spilled over her shoulders. Ralston had never seen a more gorgeous woman in his life.

When he introduced himself, her friends found it cute that he had no idea who the twenty-five-year-old soap-opera actress was. She found him fascinating. Unlike the pretend bad-boy actors and models she had dated, he was the real deal. He was also in Hollywood, but not “of” Hollywood, which made him refreshing and quite a find. Even more important, he made her feel safe.

Their relationship was very passionate right from the start. Ava was a party girl and liked to have a good time. She drank, dabbled in drugs, and was an absolute tigress in the bedroom. Though Ralston could have done without the drugs part, everything else about her was spectacular and he chalked it up to being young, sexy, and successful in Hollywood. Doing coke or dropping some ecstasy from time to time was nothing more than a way to accessorize her lifestyle. Ralston, though, kept his recreational pursuits to cocktails. His motto was You always know what comes out of a bottle.

Not long after they began dating, Ava brought him to meet her family. Her father, one of L.A.’s premier criminal defense attorneys, lived in Pacific Palisades with Ava’s mother and her two Yorkshire terriers. That first dinner was also when Ralston met her older sister, Alisa. She was equally attractive, if not more so, but that’s where their similarities ended.

While Ava was wild and devil-may-care, Alisa was focused and traditional. She had gone to law school and had become a successful entertainment attorney, choosing to trade on her smarts instead of her looks. She had married an investment banker in her late twenties and they had three children. Though skeptical of Ralston at first, the family had come to appreciate him as a solid man who truly cared for Ava. Their hope was that he’d be a good influence on her. She needed to grow up, and everyone had been concerned about her substance-abuse problems.

As levelheaded as Ralston was, though, he’d fallen completely under Ava’s spell. Though he was tough as hell, he was entranced by her, and that led to making excuses for her behavior. He loved the merry-go-round they were on and he had no desire to get off. Was Ava a drinker? Sure, but she never missed a day of work and always delivered her lines perfectly. Drugs? Yes, she did drugs, but not enough to be worried about. Or so he had thought.

Ava actually had a bad addiction problem that was getting progressively worse. She tried to hide it from Ralston and the rest of the people who cared for her, but soon no one could deny it.

She and Ralston broke up three times and each time he took her back, thinking he could “fix” her. Finally, he insisted she get into some sort of rehabilitation program. Ava reluctantly agreed and enrolled in one not far from where they had first met. It was supposed to last for weeks. Within days, she was home, proclaiming herself “cured.” It was one of the saddest things Ralston had ever seen.

Ava held out for seven days, not even having so much as a sip of wine with dinner, then she fell right off a cliff. She not only began using again, it also became apparent that she had run up some pretty big debts.

Her jewelry went first. Then she traded in her leased Mercedes for a much cheaper hybrid vehicle. She could claim all she wanted that she was trying to “give the earth a hug,” but Ralston knew why she’d made the switch.

Ava’s father called him a week later and told him that Ava had reached out for a sizable loan. He wanted to confirm what it was for and Ralston told him the truth. Ava’s drug problem was completely out of hand. The soap opera had placed her on a leave of absence. Even their makeup artists couldn’t hide what Ava was doing to herself.

Though Ralston probably should have left her for real and allowed her to hit bottom, he couldn’t. He stayed with her, but to his credit, he never gave her a single cent. Neither would her father, as it turned out, but Ralston didn’t learn that until later.