Iris Johansen - Dead Aim

"Everything. Including his cell-phone number." "Why?"

"Powers wasn't as much help as I'd hoped."

"But Leary will talk?"

"Oh, yes. I'm a little irritated with him about setting me up after Fairfax. He'll talk." "Considering he's fully aware of your capabilities, I'd bet on it. What should I know about him?" "He's smart, well educated, and gay. He's still in the closet because he thinks it's more politically advantageous for an ambitious man with the CIA."

"Dangerous?"

"Definitely lethal if he's cornered."

"Then we'll leave it to you to corner him." Galen changed the subject. "How did it go with Logan?" "As well as could be expected. At least he's moving and shaking. Have you heard from him?" "The first night. He said people weren't talking. It could be because there's so much tension about the embassy attacks, but he said he was running up against a blank wall." "Shit."

"There's that pessimism again. Logan doesn't like blank walls. He has a habit of blowing holes in them. He said he'd call you if he heard anything. Expect him to call." He paused. "Thermal vents. That could be bad stuff to monkey around with."

"Not half as bad as trying to access core power. Who the hell knows what that would do? All that magma… How's Elena?"

Galen chuckled. "Melted rock makes you think of Elena?" "There are some similarities. But I really wanted to know if you'll be available if I need you."

"Maybe. Why don't you come and ask her?"

"I'm serious. I may want to bring Alex to you. She won't go with Logan, but that's because she knows he'd put walls around her."

"I'm not endangering Elena, Morgan."

"Ask her. She knows what it's like to be on the run." He was silent. "Alex would come?"

"Maybe not right away. But there's going to come a time that I'm more danger to her than Jurgens or Betworth. She can't stay with me."

"I'll ask her. I don't promise anything." He hung up.

No promises, but Galen would do it. Elena was another matter. She was tough, protective of Galen, and she hated Morgan's guts. He would have to wait and see.

"Lontana's home base is Nassau," he told Alex when he came back into the house. "Galen's sent a man down to locate him."

"That's good." She looked back at the computer. "I wonder if I should access another site and see if-" "No." His tone was firm. "You've done enough. Why don't you rest?" "I'm too wired,"

"Then I may as well take advantage of you." He went to the corner and got her duffel bag. "If I set up your developing equipment, will you develop that picture you took of the man running from Powers's place?"

"But you already think you know who it is, don't you?" "I want to be sure. Will you do it?"

She nodded. "Set it up."

"I don't know if you can tell who he is." Alex wiped her hands on her towel. "There's blood all over his face."

Morgan gazed down at the picture. "I know who he is." Her eyes narrowed on his face. "Runne,"

He nodded. "But you're right. No one else could tell who he was. And you may need to know." He got his sketch pad and his pencil moved quickly over the paper. "This is Runne." She looked down at the sketch of a handsome young man with intense dark eyes, sensitive lips, and an expression so tormented it almost jumped from the page. "You did this sketch incredibly fast."

"I could do it in my sleep. I'm used to drawing him. You might say he's been my favorite subject for a long time." He smiled. "Except for you."

"His eyes are slanted just a little. Is he Asian?"

"Half Korean. Half American."

"He… looks tortured."

"He is." He took the sketch back. "This isn't correct now. It looks as if he's been wounded in the cheek and lips. He'll probably have to have stitches." He altered the sketch to reflect the wound. "That's as close as I can come. If you see anyone who looks like this, run like hell."

"Is that what you're doing?" He nodded.

"Because you're afraid?" "Yes."

She studied his face. "I don't believe you."

"He's been hunting me for a long time. Why else would I be hiding from him?"

"You tell me." She smiled crookedly. "But you won't tell me, will you? That would mean you'd have to lessen the distance." She turned and went to the camp stove across the room. "I'm going to make myself some instant coffee. Do you want some?"

"I guess."

His gaze followed her as she moved around the kitchen. A few minutes passed before he said abruptly, "He's only twenty-two years old."

"I hear rattlesnakes have their venom from birth." She handed him the cup. "I saw what he did to Powers's wife. I can't believe you're feeling pity for him."

"I don't. I suppose it's empathy. I look at him and see myself. I know what he's going to do next, because it's what I'd do." He gazed unseeingly at the cup in his hand. "His name is Runne Shin. He's the bastard son of an American prostitute and Ki Ho Shin, a North Korean general."

She froze. "The North Korean general you were sent to kill."

"The general I did kill." He lifted the cup to his lips. "I had no problem with taking on the job. Shin was as antiAmerican as they come. Not only was he involved in several human-rights abuses, but he was the guiding hand behind a terrorist training camp near Pyongyang. Runne attended the camp from the time he was fourteen until he was almost nineteen. Before that he lived in Tokyo with his mother. She wasn't permitted to resume her profession, since she was the mother of Shin's son, but she didn't have much to do with him. Evidently Shin kept her docile and cooperative with drugs until she overdosed when Runne was fifteen. His father's visits were the highlights of Runne's life, and when he decided to take Runne back to North Korea for training he was more than eager to go." He smiled sardonically. "He became a star pupil, and a star pupil had to be used. When he was nineteen, his father thought he should go back to Tokyo to the American university there and soak up a little red, white, and blue ambience before they shipped him out to the States. He'd absorbed too much propaganda and political zeal in the camp and would stick out like a sore thumb."

"Political zeal. Terrorism?"

"Oh, yes. He'd developed into a great killing machine. He was excellent with explosives and magnificent with a rifle. He'd successfully taken down four targets by the time he was sixteen. But he preferred knife work for close quarters."

"How did you learn all this about him?"

"I couldn't get to his father. He was too well protected. So I had to find a way under his guard. I went to Tokyo to the university where Runne was studying and enrolled in the same art course he was taking."

"Art?"

He shrugged. "He had a passion for it. His father had one of the finest art collections in the East, and I suppose he wanted to imitate his father in all things. The kid was a lousy painter, but he thought he was wonderful. And that's what I told him. It's amazing how quickly a bond can form when it's based on ego."

"And he was impressed by your work too."

"I didn't say it was all his ego." He shrugged. "He was young and eager and he reminded me of myself when I first went into the service. Hell, I… liked him."

"But you used him."

He nodded. "I found out that Runne was going back to North Korea to visit his father. They were going hunting and

Runne was very excited. His father sometimes arranged very special hunts at his place in the country."

"Special?"

"Political prisoners. No one important. No one who would be missed."

Alex felt sick. "Charming."

"I found out exactly where and when they'd meet. I was there before them and I took my shot. I never saw Runne again."

"My God."

"It was my job." His voice was harsh. "I had to find a way to get to the target."

"But you didn't kill Runne."