Iris Johansen - Pandora's Daughter

Think of Molino. Think of the Ledger.

Don't think of Grady lying on that couch only a few yards from her bedroom door.

SHE WAS STILL NOT ASLEEP WHEN the cell phone on her bedside table rang four hours later.

"Get out of there," Renata said when she picked up the phone. Her voice was crackling with urgency. "Now. I don't know how much time you have. Dammit, I don't know how much time I have. Molino wouldn't have only sent one man. Not after Falbon."

Megan jerked upright in bed. "What's happening? Why are-"

"What do you think? Molino. He traced me. If he's found me, he might know you're right on my doorstep. I can't talk to you any longer. I have to get on the move."

"Wait. I'll call Grady and-"

Renata has already hung up.

Megan threw back the covers and jumped to her feet. "Grady!"

She grabbed her clothes and started dressing. "Dammit, Grady, where are you?"

"Right here." Grady stood in the doorway. "What's wrong? Who was on the phone?"

"Renata." She sat down and put on her shoes. "Get dressed. She said Molino may be on his way. He's traced her. She wanted to warn us."

"How does she know?"

"I don't know. She hung up. She said something about Molino wouldn't have sent just one man. She was in a hurry." She grabbed her jacket. "We have to get over there and make sure she's okay."

"Wait." He turned and went toward the bathroom. "I'll be dressed in a few minutes. We'll call and tell Harley to go to her place and check it out."

"I'll go on ahead. I'm not going to wait."

"You will unless you want me to trail behind you naked." He was throwing on his clothes. "I don't want you walking out that front door without me. Hell, I don't want you walking out the front door at all. We'll go out the bedroom window in case Molino has men outside waiting for us." He threw her his cell phone. "You call Harley. He's on speed dial."

"How could Molino trace her?" she asked as she scrolled for the name.

"It's a technical world and almost anyone can be tracked if you have the right equipment." He grabbed a jacket and pulled her toward the bedroom window. "Have you got Harley?"

She nodded and handed him the phone. "Tell him to hurry. Renata sounded-Just tell him to hurry."

SHE WAS BLEEDING, Renata realized dimly.

Ignore it. Keep on moving. She could hear them behind her in the forest. At least two men and they weren't woods savvy. They sounded like elephants moving through the shrubbery.

Deadly elephants. One of them, the taller of the two, had managed to clip her with a bullet from a distance of more than a hundred yards when he had caught sight of her running out of the fruit cellar into the forest.

And she couldn't ignore that wound for long. She was still bleeding and she couldn't risk fainting or being too weak to function when they caught her. Okay, slow down, find a place to wait for them. Maybe she could find a minute to bind up the shoulder.

Or maybe not. They were closer. No time to do anything but wait and let them pass her. Then pick off the one in the rear as Mark had taught her. It had to be silent and quick so that the first man wouldn't realize what was happening.

And that meant using the knife and, God, she hated knife work.

No choice.

She put on speed as she rounded a turn in the path. Good. There was another curve in the path several yards ahead. The huge oak tree at the side of the trail should give her enough cover.

She darted behind it and tried to catch her breath.

She could hear them.

Closer.

Now she could see them as they rounded the turn.

The smaller man was a good eight yards in the lead, his slight wiry body moving piston smooth.

Wait until he passed and went around the curve.

The taller man, the one who'd shot her, was coming barreling down the path toward her, passing her.

Move silently, as Mark had shown her. She was wounded and she couldn't rely on physical strength. The man was too tall for her to reach up and cut his throat so she had to rely on one accurate stab to the heart.

Fast. Silent. Now .

The knife entered his heart and he made only a low gasp as he staggered and fell to the ground.

Dead.

Blood on her hands.

Lord, she hated knives.

The other man. She took her gun out of her jacket and started to fade into the shrubbery.

"Stay here. Let me do it."

She whirled to see Jed Harley running down the path toward her.

"It's okay," he said quietly as he reached her; "I'll get him. You take care of yourself."

She watched dazedly as he disappeared around the turn. She could feel the adrenaline that had kept her going draining out of her and sank back against the tree. Yes, if Harley said that he would get that other bastard, he would do it. She'd experienced his skill and she could trust it.

She was beginning to feel sluggish and light-headed. She had to stop the blood before she got any weaker. Pressure bandage. She flinched as she shrugged off the jacket and began to unbutton her shirt.

"THAT'S A VERY CLUMSY bandage," Harley said.

She looked up as he came back around the curve of the path. "Did you get him?"

He nodded, his gaze still on her shoulder. "Good Lord, did you have to use the whole shirt?"

"Shut up. I did the best I could. I couldn't tear the damn thing." She had been so weak she'd barely managed to get the shirt in a pressure position. "I didn't hear a shot."

"I broke his neck. Much less messy than your knife."

"I didn't have a choice. I had to get rid of them quickly."

"I'm not criticizing you. You did very well considering that it was two against one and you were wounded."

"Don't patronize me. I did well, period."

He smiled. "Yes, you did. More training by Cousin Mark?"

"He took me to a guerilla antiterrorist training camp near Zurich when I was sixteen. He wanted to make sure I could survive in any situation."

"And I'd bet he made sure you had hands-on experience later."

She gave him a level glance. "That's none of you business."

"You're right. Since we're going to have to dispose of these scumbags would you consider it my business if I asked you if there are any other bodies to add to the count?"

"One man in the cottage." Her lips twisted. "He was much clumsier than you and Grady were at burgling my place. I knew he was inside seconds after he sprang the lock."

"Dead, I assume?"

She nodded. "I led him down to the root cellar. But he wasn't easy like Falbon. He knew exactly what he was doing." She paused. "And he had chloroform. Molino wanted me alive if he could pull it off."

"So you phoned, warned Megan, and then took off. You could have waited for reinforcements. I was at your cottage five minutes after I got the call."

"It would have been too easy for one of them to toss an explosive through a window." She paused. "Five minutes? You were staking me out again. Grady's orders?"

"No, my call. I admit I'm finding your entrance into the situation fascinating and didn't want you to make an abrupt departure. I arrived at the root cellar too late to intercept you. You were already running into the woods with Molino's men at your heels." He knelt beside her and began to unwind the makeshift bandage. "May I? I believe I can do a little better. I was once a driver for an EMT unit. I'm good with wounds."

"I bet you are." She leaned back against the trunk of the tree. "Go ahead. Show me what an expert you are."

"In what area? I'll have to limit your exposure. I wouldn't want to dazzle you." He had finished unwrapping the bandage and he gave a low whistle. "This is pretty ugly. It's going to need some stitches. I'd better get you back to the cottage and let Megan get to work on you."

"You mean you're not capable of doing it yourself?" Her lips twisted. "You're not dazzling me, Harley."