Tess Gerritsen: Double Impact

Michal was still reeling from her words about their son when she rushed on.

“You were right. The CIA did contact me.” She shook her head shamefully. “They’ve been using me…or trying to since this whole crazy thing started with the shooting of Nathan Olment.” She looked directly into Michal’s eyes and told him the truth he already knew. “They wanted me to help them set you up for assassination. It’s supposed to happen today.” She blinked back the tears shining in her eyes. “But I couldn’t do it. I told them no.”

That part was news to him. With every fiber of his being he wanted to believe her, but remembered betrayal held him back. “Why would you do that?” he asked cautiously, determined to have solid evidence of what she appeared to be professing.

“Because I’m in love with you and you’re the father of my child. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

Her arms went around him and she hugged him with all her might. “I love you, Michal, please don’t go. Let’s just get out of here.”

He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deceit. He found none. “How could you love a man who kills for money…who martyrs whatever cause offering the highest price?” His breath stilled in his chest as he waited for her reaction to what she surely considered the truth about him.

She melted against him, the heat of her body warming the cold that had settled over him forty-eight hours ago. “Because I know you’re not what you seem.” She lifted one delicate shoulder in a shrug. “I know you’re the rider on the white horse.”

Need, desire and love-definitely love-welled inside him, bringing the sting of moisture to his eyes. He had no idea what she meant about the white horse, but he understood perfectly the rest of her words. Pulling her to him once more, he kissed her with all the emotions churning inside him.

“Go,” he said, pulling back before it was too late. “Thomas will take you to a safe place.”

She shook her head. “I’m not leaving without you.”

He set her away from him. “You must.”

“They’re going to kill you! You can’t go through with this,” she pleaded, tears sliding down her cheeks.

If Michal did not survive this day, he would carry this moment in his heart to whatever reward or punishment lay in store for him. She was willing to risk everything to save him. Ron had told him how the CIA had threatened to keep her child from her if she did not cooperate.

“I cannot abort this mission,” he explained as Thomas made his way back to their position. “It’s too late.”

Thomas urged her to come with him, but she resisted. “It’s only too late if you let it be.”

“The decision is made,” Michal said more firmly. “Thank you for telling me about my son.”

He walked away then, knowing Thomas would not allow her to follow. It was time for him to be in position. The hit was a relatively simple one.

The complexity lay in what came after that.

He was not afraid of death…but he did resent its source under the circumstances.

But it was past time this life was over…well past time.

AMI WATCHED him move out of sight…nothing she could do to stop him. She’d told him all that she knew and still he’d maintained his course. A sob knotted in her stomach as Thomas drove away. Fear that she would never see Michal again quivered inside her. Her heart squeezed painfully.

Would she ever know who Michal Arad really was?

JACK WAITED for Fran to reach the rendezvous point. He glanced at his watch. The final mission of the Executioner was about to go down.

One way or another Jack had to see that Ami didn’t get caught in the aftermath as was planned.

But he couldn’t do this alone.

Fran parked her ancient Audi near his rental and quickly emerged from the car. In four long strides she stood face-to-face with him.

“Why’d you move the time up?” she asked, taking a look at her own watch.

“I need your help.”

A well-honed guard slipped into place, concealing whatever she might be thinking. “The last time you needed my help you almost got me killed.”

She didn’t have to remind him of the incident. He’d hoped she’d forgotten that by now. Jack had been new to the Company back then. Things were different today.

“It’s important.”

Fran cocked an eyebrow. “I can see that. You wouldn’t have called otherwise. What is it you need me to do?”

“I don’t want Ami to take the fall for this,” he said, knowing that what he was about to ask her to do risked not only her life but also her career. Something he was fully prepared to do, but Fran was nearing retirement, she might feel entirely different about the situation.

She looked at her watch again. “It’s a fine time to make a decision of that magnitude. What did Fowler say about it?”

Jack had known Fran long enough to surmise that though she was clearly suspicious, she wasn’t opposed to a change in plans. She would have balked at the first suggestion otherwise.

“Fowler doesn’t know,” he stated flatly, not bothering to pretty it up.

She didn’t look surprised. “Well, he always was a stick in the mud when it came to human needs and basic emotions.”

Ire kindled low in Jack’s gut. “This isn’t about emotion,” he protested, setting her straight. “This is about what’s right. She’s already sacrificed far too much. It isn’t right to take anything else. I want her back with her child. I want this nightmare over for her.”

“What about Arad?” she countered. “Doesn’t he deserve a reprieve, as well? Let’s face it, the past three years haven’t exactly been a frolic through a rose garden for him.”

“That’s out of my hands,” Jack snapped.

Fran nodded sagely. “I see.”

She was enjoying the hell out of this. Well, Jack didn’t have time to amuse her, nor did he give one shit if she derived pleasure from his squirming. “Look,” he pressed. “We have to move now. Are you in or out?”

She propped her elbow on her arm and tapped her cheek. “What’s it worth to you, Jack? I can always use a field supervisor in my pocket.”

“Now, Fran. I need a decision now,” he growled.

She grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She angled her head toward her antiquated Audi. “Let’s get going before the concept becomes moot.”

As usual Fran could always be counted on for a quick analysis of the situation.

They had to get to Ami now…before it was too late.

MICHAL PAUSED before climbing into the Jeep. He stared back at the villa some twenty or so yards away. Even the air around it seemed to still. He surveyed the hillside to which they would retreat, and then the grounds surrounding the villa once more.

“Something is wrong,” he said, his tone matching the somber mood that had abruptly settled over him. More wrong than his men could possibly guess.

This was the defining moment.

“What is wrong?” the Spaniard demanded. “The bastardo is dead and the electronic transfer is complete. We have confirmation. Nothing is wrong,” he insisted, clearly ready to leave the scene of their most recent kills.

Michal shook his head. “We can’t take that risk.”

“What risk?” Kolin prodded.

He wanted to get the hell out of here, as well, Michal would wager, but his years of experience over the other man’s would not allow him to so easily dismiss the possibility Michal had suggested.

“I have to go back in.” Michal did an about-face and started toward the villa.

“What the hell are you doing?” The Spaniard moved in front of him, blocking his path. He glanced up the hill, scanning cautiously. “We must get out of here. You know that, Michal. Going back inside is not necessary.”