Iris Johansen - Final Target

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The Barnes Noble Review
Passion, power, and political intrigue clash with deadly results in Iris Johansen's latest tale of romantic suspense, Final Target. At the heart of this fast-paced thriller is the seven-year-old daughter of the president of the United States, who has witnessed something so awful it's left her in a catatonic state. Now, the woman who hopes to save her must trust her heart and her life to a mysterious man with a nefarious reputation.
When masked intruders break into a presidential stronghold and try to kidnap the president's daughter, Cassie, the child witnesses several brutal murders. She survives, thanks to the efforts of Michael Travis, a man who skirts the law and makes a living in the international underworld, but the shock leaves her dwelling in a state somewhere between consciousness and death. The president puts his daughter in the hands of Dr. Jessica Riley, who helped her younger sister, Melissa, recover from a similar condition a few years earlier. Though fully recovered, Melissa's bout with catatonia left her with a curious side effect: the ability to merge her mind with the consciousness of others who are catatonic.
As Cassie's condition worsens, her only hope lies with two people: Melissa, who can get into Cassie's mind, and Travis, whose presence has a calming affect on the child's life-threatening seizures. But there's a problem: Travis has a host of deadly assassins breathing down his neck and isn't inclined to stay, yet his conscience won't let him desert the child, either. So he takes Cassie, Jessica, and Melissa with him, sneaking them out of the country and into Europe, where he becomes embroiled in a deadly game of international intrigue. With the president's forces now breathing down his neck in the belief that he has kidnapped Cassie, and his attentions increasingly drawn toward Melissa, whom he has come to care for, Travis becomes distracted enough to make a deadly miscalculation. The tragedy that results will have a monumental effect on everyone involved and may mean the end of any hopes they hold for the future.
Johansen is a master at keeping her readers on edge, and Final Target is a perfect example of this master at work. The pace zips, the plot twists, and each turn of the page brings a new surprise. But the best part of Johansen's latest effort is her characteristically explosive mix of chilling terror and heated passions. (Beth Amos)

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"Or he may want you dead."

Travis shook his head. "I don't think so. I would have heard if there was a sanction. Give me two hours to make some preparations and check out a few things and then send them to pick me up."

"I can't talk you out of it?"

"It's the best way."

"Whatever." Galen turned but stopped at the door. "How did you find out about that attack on Vasaro?"

"I have my sources."

"Damn good ones. I didn't hear a murmur about it."

"You think I knew about it because I was part of the plot?"

"It occurred to me."

"A very logical supposition to a man of your cynical nature. But then why should I go to the trouble of a double cross?"

"How do I know? I've never met anyone capable of more convoluted machinations." He waited. "You're not going to tell me."

"I don't usually use kids in my plans."

"But you're not saying you didn't this time." He opened the door. "It was a pretty foul game at Vasaro. I wouldn't like to think you'd drawn me into something that dirty. Tell me who your source was."

"You know me. We've been friends for seven years. If that's not good enough, you'll have to think what you like."

Galen swore softly. "Damn you. Give me something ."

"I don't make excuses or explanations. You take me as I am or not at all."

"I'm supposed to trust you blindly?"

Travis didn't answer.

Galen sighed. "You're a tough friend to have, Michael. I don't think you were in on the setup at Vasaro, but the CIA may have a different view. I hope you know what you're doing."

He hoped he did too, Travis thought as the door closed behind Galen. The situation here was very dicey, and he didn't know how long he could stay on the run. He needed a safe haven while he negotiated a way to stay alive and get out with all the marbles in the game.

And keep the marbles from falling into the hands of the CIA. He'd have to do some fast talking and even faster manipulating to place himself in a position to bargain with Andreas.

So what was new? It was what he'd been doing all his life. Deception, manipulation, sleight of hand, and balancing on the tightrope Galen said he wanted nothing to do with any longer. He wasn't sure he wanted it either. God, he was tired.

Snap out of it. The adrenaline would come back in a rush when the CIA came through that door. Think of the challenge. It wasn't every day a man got to match wits with the leader of the free world.

Juniper

The nurse who opened the door was middle-aged, her red hair peppered with gray. "Dr. Riley is with your daughter, Mr. President. I'm afraid she's having a bad night."

"How bad?"

"Just a nightmare."

He knew about the nightmares and the almost catatonic withdrawal that followed. "I'll go to her right away, Teresa. Will you have some coffee made for my driver and the Secret Service men in the other car?"

"It's already made. Shall I bring some up to you?"

"Thank you." He was climbing the oak steps to the second floor. The house breathed of ages past and the same genteel warmth his own house in Charleston possessed. If Cassie came back, this place might remind her of all the weekends she had spent there.

If? She would come back. He couldn't tolerate anything else.

He threw open the door to Cassie's room without knocking. "How is she?"

Jessica Riley looked up. "She's fine. She had a bad time, but it's over now and she's resting. Isn't that right, Cassie?"

He strode over to the bed. "God, she looks-"

"She's resting," Jessica interrupted, standing up. "And I think we'll leave her to rest while we get a cup of coffee." She turned to the little girl. "We'll be right back, Cassie."

"I don't want to-"

"We're going to get a cup of coffee." Jessica's voice was steely with determination. "Now."

He met her gaze, then turned on his heel and followed her from the room. "Well?"

"I've gone over this before. She's not deaf and she's not in a coma, so you will not act as if she is."

"She lies there like a dead person. She won't speak or respond and you say she's-"

" If you accept her the way she is, it will only encourage her. I won't let you make my job harder by-"

"Won't let me? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Your daughter's doctor. Who the hell do you think you are?" She paused and then her lips curved in a faint smile. "The President of the United States?"

His anger suddenly left him. "So I'm told, but evidently that doesn't impress you."

"It impresses me. You've been a good president. But that doesn't mean you know more than I do about your daughter's condition. If you want me to treat her, I have to be the boss."

He stared thoughtfully at her. She was quite small and her short, curly blond hair and luminous complexion made her look much younger than her thirty-two years. But there was intelligence in those brown eyes and an incisive boldness in her manner that definitely was not childlike. "I'm not accustomed to taking a backseat, Dr. Riley."

She smiled, the aggressiveness gone." I know. It's very difficult for you. But you've got to accept it."

"How do I know you're right? How do you know you're right?"

"I don't. We can study, guess, and second-guess, but the mind is still a mystery to us. But I've been through this many times before and I have a better chance than you of hitting on the answer."

"You think she's fully aware?"

She nodded. "More than aware. I've found in cases like this the senses become terribly acute. It's as if rejecting the outside world and turning inward releases some power that's usually inhibited."

"The other doctors never mentioned anything like that."

"I can only tell you what I've experienced."

"With your sister?"

"With Mellie and others." She rubbed her temple. "You knew I was a bit of a maverick when you hired me. I can only do my best based on what I've learned. If that's not good enough, then fire me. But don't try to take control. Conflict might send Cassie deeper and further away from us."

He didn't speak for a moment, then said gruffly, "I…didn't mean to go against your instructions in there. You have no idea how different she is now. I've never known a stronger child than my Cassie. She's the last kid anyone would pick to go under like this. There was nothing fragile about her. She was always such a fighter. When I saw her all curled up like a-I felt so damn angry that I-"

"I know." She added deliberately, "And you don't really trust me."

"I don't trust anyone when it comes to Cassie. I'm her father and I should be the one to help her, not some-"

"Shrink?" She nodded. "I agree. But sometimes it doesn't work like that. Sometimes they totally reject familiarity. So the shrink has to take over. Now, are we going to work together, or do you want to find someone else?"

"It sounds more like you're opting for sole guardianship."

"No. Just don't put barriers in my way."

"And do as you say."

"Right."

He thought about it. "Okay. We'll see how you do as commander in chief."

"And if Idon't measure up, you'll fire me in a heartbeat?"

"Exactly. Now, if there's nothing else, I'll go sit with my daughter."

"There's something else. I need more information."

"What kind?"

"About Vasaro."

"We've told you what happened."

"Before the attack, did your daughter like Vasaro?"

"She loved it. Who wouldn't? Vasaro grows flowers for the perfume trade, and what kid doesn't Like farm life? Acres of lavender and lilies and far away from the strictures of D.C."

"She'd spent time there before?"

Andreas nodded. "Often. Caitlin Vasaro is her godmother and they're very close. She lets Cassie work in the fields and pick the flowers for the perfume." His lips tightened. "It's damnable Cassie will never be able to go back now."

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