Iris Johansen - Final Target

"By Travis?"

"No, the assailant fled with Travis in pursuit. We believe Travis was wounded in the attack."

"Good," Andreas said. "I wish the bastard had been skewered on a spit."

"Not until we find your daughter," Keller said. "After that, we'll be glad to accommodate you, Mr. President. Danley thinks they've also located a company in Antwerp that rented the van to transport your daughter. The timing is right. We're getting closer, sir."

"Not close enough. I'm going to Amsterdam."

"That wouldn't be wise."

"I'm going. Get Air Force One ready. That plane was built so that the President could run the country from it during an emergency. It's going to be tested. Then get the doctor to say I've had a slight relapse and can't leave my room. I'll make an appearance on the balcony so that everyone will know I'm not on my deathbed."

"What about the First Lady?"

Chelsea. She had been suspicious from the moment he had stepped off the plane from Tokyo. She knew him so well, they were too close for any deception to fool her for long.

God, he didn't want to tell her about Cassie.

And he couldn't not tell her if he took off for Amsterdam.

He stood up. "I'll go see her. We leave in an hour, Keller."

"Yes, Mr. President."

A few minutes later Andreas was opening the door to their private suite. She was lying in bed, working on her laptop.

"Is that resting?"

"I'm flat on my ass, aren't I?" She gave him that radiant smile that had first captured his attention all those years ago. She was more beautiful now than she'd been that day.

His love, his partner, his best friend…

He came into the room." I have something to tell you, Chelsea."

"Piece of cake," Stuart Thomas said. He stood up and gestured to the computer screen. "There you go, Mr. Travis. It's all yours."

Thomas's T-shirt was sweat stained and as unpleasant smelling as Galen had warned him, Travis realized. The idea of working in close contact with the kid was not appealing. "Why don't you go get a meal? I'll page you if I need you."

"You're not going to find him just by browsing. What's he supposed to have done?"

"Murder."

"What kind of murder? Crime of passion, burglary, mercy killing? You've got to narrow it down if you want results."

" Let me work at it."

Thomas hesitated. "Then will you give me my money? I usually get paid half upfront and half when you say you're through with me. I waived the first payment, since Galen is a good friend, but I really should have-"

"How much?"

"Five thousand."

"Wait here." He left Thomas and went to the apartment across the hall.

"Trouble?" Galen rose from a chair.

"More an inconvenience. Thomas wants to be paid and I have a cash flow problem. Five thousand?"

Galen shook his head. "I can get it by tonight."

"He wants it now. Never mind." He went to his duffel and drew out h is laptop, then opened the disk drive and took out a pouch. "You'll have to use your powers of presentation and convince him to accept goods instead of cash." He poured out half the contents of the pouch onto the coffee table.

"Holy shit," Galen murmured. "Diamonds?"

Travis sorted through the gemstones. "Even the smallest of these will bring over five thousand dollars."

Galen was staring at the pile. "And you smuggled these in your laptop?"

"It seemed a pretty good place as long as I wasn't going to be frisked by airport security."

"So that's why you hitched a ride on Air Force One ."

He nodded." I wasn't about to risk losing these to customs after all I'd gone through to get them."

"Andreas won't be pleased you used his plane for your own ends."

"At this stage of the game, he'd agree that smuggling is the least of my sins." He picked up one of the stones. "I'm no expert, but I'd say this is pretty high quality."

"The best."

"Is that how you're going to pay off that curator at the museum?" Melissa had come into the room, her gaze on the diamonds glittering on the coffee table. "They're stolen, aren't they?"

"You might say that."

"And this is why your friend died?"

"You might say that too." He handed the first diamond he'd chosen to Galen. "Tell Thomas it's bonus time. Any appraiser in Paris will tell him that stone is worth twice what he asked me for."

"You can bet he'll be hotfooting it to the diamond exchange to check it."

"No problem. It will pass any test they can put it through." He separated the pile and gave one half to Galen. "For Guilliame. I'm sure he'll want to check the merchandise before tonight."

"This has got to be worth more than the price he asked, Travis."

"Just give them to Guilliame and let's get it over with." He scooped the rest of the diamonds back in the pouch and stuffed the pouch in his duffel. "But I want a guarantee of those four hours or I'll cut his heart out."

"What a true gentleman you are, Travis," Melissa said.

"I wasn't gently reared on a southern plantation. I was taught to smooth the way with sugar but always have the knife handy." He met her gaze. "You should appreciate that. You're very good with the knife, Melissa."

"I'm getting better."

"I believe I'll get out of here and go about my job," Galen said. "It's getting a little too chilly in here for me. I'll let you know if there's a problem, Travis."

"Right." His gaze never left Melissa. "I have enough problems."

"That you have."

"No wonder you haven't been worried about moving us around Europe like chess pieces," Melissa said after Galen had left. "Money can open doors, can't it?"

"The doors of the Museum d'Andreas, at least."

"What if I tell Jessica that you're using stolen money to help Cassie?"

"We both know it won't make any difference to her. She'd find a way to justify spending ill-gotten loot if it saved the kid." He smiled. "But it would make her worry and feel bad. So you won't tell her, will you?"

She didn't answer.

"Nice try, Melissa." He stood up. "Now I have to get back next door and do a little work. If you need anything, come and get me."

"Where's Travis?" Jessica asked when she came into the kitchen ten minutes later.

"Next door." Melissa forced a smile. "I just made iced tea. Would you like some?"

"Please."

"How's Cassie?"

"The same." She sat at the table and rubbed her temple. "Jesus, I hope this Wind Dancer thing works out."

"If you have any doubts, you shouldn't do it." Melissa put the glass down before Jessica. "We're making progress. I know it. If you'd let me try to be a little tougher with her, we might even hurry it along."

"You might know it, but I don't." Jessica took a sip. "I may be going along with you, but I still can't quite believe all this psychic connection stuff. It goes against my every instinct and training."

"I know it does. That's the problem." Melissa suddenly fell to her knees before her sister and buried her head in her lap. "Try to believe me, Jessica." Her voice was muffled. "I love you and I want only what's best. That's all I've ever wanted for you. I took so much away, let me try to give something back." Her arms tightened around Jessica's waist. "Let me help you. Listen to me. Please."

"Mellie?" Jessica lifted Melissa's chin and looked down at her. She touched her wet cheek. "You're crying…"

Her lips twisted. "Just goes to show how unstable I am, right?"

"Not right." She grasped Melissa's shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "And you took nothing from me that I wasn't willing to give. Everyone has a path to follow in life. Don't you realize that you helped me to find mine? I've never regretted one minute of those years I spent with you."

"I have."

"Then stop it." She grimaced. "And for God's sake, stop crying. You're choking me up."