Iris Johansen - Deadlock

"That's something. Anything else?"

"There was a man who worked for him. Borg. He did everything Staunton told him to do. He… liked it." Memories were rushing back to her, and her stomach was beginning to churn. Breathe deep. Don't throw up. "That's all I can remember. I'll try to-"

"Hush." He pulled her into his arms. "That's enough. Don't worry about it." His hand cradled the back of head and pressed her face into his shoulder. "I just needed somewhere to start."

"Maybe I'll be able to separate-Just not now."

He muttered an oath beneath his breath. "I said forget it. I'll work it out." He was rocking her back and forth. "And if you start to shake again, I'll-Just don't do it, okay?"

He was treating her as if she were a child in pain. Why not? She was acting as if she was the basket case of which she'd been so scorn¬ful. She pushed away from him. "I'm okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" She drew a deep breath. "It won't happen again."

He stood gazing at her. "Does that mean you've made your choice?"

"Yes. You knew I'd choose you. I don't know this Ferguson."

"It could be argued you don't know me."

"I know enough."

His lips twisted. "That's right. You know John Garrett, the assas¬sin. That's all that's important to you, isn't it?"

"Yes." Then she rushed on, "No. I… trust you, Garrett." "You trust me to get you what you want."

It was more than that, but she couldn't explain it to him any more than she could explain it to herself. It was better not even to try. "How do we make this DVD to send to Ferguson?"

"I use my phone and burn it to a disc on my computer."

"Very efficient." She turned away from the window. "Let's do it."

"I'M GOING TO CUT THE BASTARD'S throat," Ferguson said through his teeth, his gaze on Emily Hudson's face on the monitor. "What the hell does he think he's doing? I need her."

"It seems we're not going to get her." Moore was studying Emily's face. "Maybe it's the truth. Maybe she just needs to get away for a while. She doesn't look well and that-"

"I know how she looks. Let her get well here in Kabul, where I can control the situation. I need answers."

"She told you the approximate location where she was held and Shafir Ali's name. We can start with that."

"That's not enough. I need chapter and verse. I've been roasting over the coals for too long, and it's not going to be over until I can fur¬nish enough information to drown those flames."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find her and bring her back here."

Moore nodded at the video. "And this?"

"What do you think? I'm going to take it to the director and the U.N. and tell them that I was the one who went in and rescued her. And that I made the decision to shelter Emily Hudson from the glare of publicity. She'd suffered enough, and I couldn't stand the thought of her being exposed to any more trauma."

"Good idea."

"We can tell everyone Levy's dead and that Hudson is free and re¬covering nicely in a secured haven. With any luck, the media will for¬get about her in a week or two."

"Very clever. And what about you?"

"Hell, no," Ferguson said grimly. "I told you, she's my number one priority. You can bet I won't forget Emily Hudson."

"YOU DID VERY WELL," GARRETT said as he left the cockpit af¬ter the helicopter was airborne. He sat down beside Emily. "The video was just right. Sincere and fragile as hell. Very convincing."

"I didn't mean to appear fragile. I only meant to be as truthful as I could be under the circumstances. I hate lies."

"You are fragile right now. That was no lie." He held up his hand as she opened her lips. "Think about it. Your instinct is to deny it, but you have to admit your weakness if you're going to overcome it."

"Easy to say. Have you ever admitted weakness, Garrett?"

"Once. That's how I know you have to work through it to get strong again."

But he wasn't going to reveal the nature of that weakness, she re¬alized. Well, she had no right to probe when she had no intention of telling him anything more than he had to know right now. "Where are we going?"

"Pakistan. I have some contacts that will keep us below the radar. From there we'll go to Greece." She frowned. "Why?"

"Because I told you that you have to lie low for a while. I have a house in a small village on an island in Greece that would be perfect for you."

"How long?"

"A couple weeks."

She shook her head emphatically. "That's too long."

"You made the choice. That's the deal. You do what I say." He paused. "And you lie low as long as I tell you to do it."

"It's not necessary. I made that video for Ferguson. That's enough."

"Tell me that after you watch the TV coverage and go through all the newspaper stories about your disappearance. You created a stir, and it's going to take time for the ripples to die down." He added, "And it will take time for me to find Staunton. Dardon has only started the pre¬liminary search."

"Someone has to know him. If they met him, they'd remember him. He's a monster."

"And does he look like Frankenstein's monster?" "No."

"Ugly? Threatening?" "Not on the surface."

"Then at the moment he's only a monster to you. To a next-door neighbor he might appear perfectly ordinary."

She supposed he was right, but it seemed impossible supreme evil would not be instantly obvious. "How long will it take?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. All I can promise is that I will find him." He paused. "It would help if you could tell me why Staunton hijacked your trucks. Can you talk about it?"

Blood running from under the truck.

Joel screaming in agony.

"It's okay." Garrett's gaze was fastened on her face. "We'll talk about it later."

"No." Try not to think of anything but the question. She mois¬tened her lips. "They were looking for a hammer. Staunton called it Zelov's hammer. He said there was some kind of Russian artifact hid¬den in the handle. He'd been told it was at that museum. He thought I knew where it was, that I'd hidden it away."

"Did you?"

"God, no. I kept telling him, but he didn't believe me. We didn't see any hammer. I kept telling him. I swore on my father's grave that I didn't know anything about it." Her nails dug into the palms of her hands. "Over and over. I kept telling him. He wouldn't believe me. I kept telling-"

"Emily." He gathered her hands in both of his. "Don't talk. I don't need to know anything more." His voice roughened. "I should have known better than to put you through this. You're nowhere near ready to face it yet."

"I have to face it," she said unevenly. "I can't live with myself if I hide from the truth. I don't have the right. It's just… hard." She drew a shaky breath. "I should have thought of the hammer. God knows, it's always with me. Sometimes I even dream about it. It's the way to catch him, isn't it? He wants Zelov's hammer. He'll be looking for it. If we find it first, then we may be able to set a trap for him. Why didn't I think of that before?"

"I'd say it's understandable that you're not acting with crystal-clear logic at the moment," he said dryly. "You start to shake every time the conversation gets anywhere near Staunton."

"I don't-" But she would be trembling if he wasn't holding her hands, giving her his strength. "It's not because I'm afraid of him."

"I know that. It's because the son of a bitch traumatized you. That's why it's a good idea to let yourself heal for a while, so that you'll be able to function in top form."

"I'd be fine if we could go-"

"No," he said firmly. "I'm not going to chance you shattering ei¬ther before or after we get rid of Staunton. I told you, I got you away from him, and I have pride in my work. You're going to remain fully intact, mentally and physically, for the next hundred years or so."