Iris Johansen - Final Target

"No?" Alex's tone was deliberately mocking. "Pity. You filled it so well."

"You don't understand, do you? When you left the Company, everything for which I'd worked for fifteen years came crashing down around me. hi another two years I would have taken over McMillan's job and been able to launch myself to the top, where I belonged." A flush reddened Ledford's cheeks. "I didn't leave the Company, they jettisoned me because I wasn't clever enough to see you were going after McMillan. I was pretty frenzied for a while. I wanted to take everything away from you, as you'd taken it from me. I regard it as a triumph of self-discipline that I've managed to subdue my anger and ignore you all these years." Ledford's eyes narrowed on Alex's face. "You've never understood the real reason I developed such a passion for the Wind Dancer, have you?"

"It's a magnificent work of art."

"And the ultimate symbol of power. From the moment I saw it, I knew it would always be a beacon, showing me what I could be."

"Delusions of glory?"

"Not delusions. Truth. You've got everything you want now. Money, security, women. Why dabble when it won't benefit you?"

"Perhaps because it's an interesting problem. You should kno.w how difficult I find it to resist solving problems. At one time you used that weakness of mine." Why was he goading Ledford? Alex wondered wearily. He had thought he had put his antagonism and disillusionment about Ledford behind him, yet he found he was experiencing a perverse pleasure in taunting the man. It was rather like teasing a rattlesnake just to hear it rattle. "And it gets a little boring at times on my mountaintop."

Ledford nodded with immediate understanding. "I remember boredom was always a problem for you. Boredom and curiosity. You really should remember that curiosity killed that proverbial cat." He glanced at his wristwatch and smiled. "Well, I must run along. It was good seeing you and reliving old times."

Alex stiffened at the abruptness of Ledford's departure. "You're leaving?"

"My driver and two of my subordinates are in the living room waiting. I have to get to the airport while the weather is still clear." Ledford picked up his coat and put it on. "I knew when I came here it would be useless. You're obviously not going to be influenced by words and I'm a very busy man."

"Another 'Mona Lisa' to steal?"

"We both know there's only one 'Mona Lisa.' " He tugged on his leather gloves. "Just as there's only one Alex Karazov."

Alex inclined his head in a mocking bow. "I'm now waiting for the shaft."

" No shaft. I told you my feelings for you were ambivalent." Ledford flexed his big hands, obviously enjoying the feel of the soft leather against his palms." But I won't compete with you in my own arena, so I'll just have to discourage you from entertaining any offers." ~

"Which means?"

"I'd rather have you as an enemy than on the same team. Oh, I know I can't touch you at the moment. What a clever lad you were to get both the CIA and the KGB in a stranglehold. We really don't want to involve them in our plans right now." Ledford's broad smile brimmed with goodwill as he added, "By the way, you did know that luscious Italian model you've been screwing is a KGB swallow?"

"I've suspected it. I wasn't sure if she belonged to them or to the CIA," Alex said without inflection. "Angela's affiliations don't really affect our relationship one way or the other."

Ledford nodded. "You always were a cynical bastard where women were concerned. I thought you were too savvy to form an attachment with even the most skilled whore they could produce." He picked up his cashmere scarf and moved toward the door. "Still, there was the faintest possibility you cared something for her. Why don't you give her a call?"

Alex stiffened. "Is that a threat?"

"No, just a suggestion." He stared at Alex. "You're still finding it hard to see me as I really am. You remember me only as the man you knew five years ago. I told you

I'd graduated from basic training and I assure you that I don't hesitate to make examples these days. Sometimes I even enjoy it. Good-bye, Alex. Our little chat has been pleasant. I do hope you won't force me to look you up again."

Alex felt a chill along his spine as he watched the door close behind Ledford. Those last words had been a threat and his reference to Angela no coincidence. Pavel was right, Alex had made a mistake in underestimating Ledford.

Christ, he hoped it wasn't too late!

He moved quickly to the desk, picked up the receiver, and punched in Angela Di Marco's number at her apartment in Rome.

No answer.

Alex listened to the ringing at the other end of the line, the panic rising in him. Nothing had to be wrong. It was only midnight.

"Hello." Angela's voice was impatient.

Relief surged through him. "Angela, stay in your apartment. Lock the door. If you've got anyone with you, get rid of him."

"Alex?"

"Don't argue. Just do as I say." He paused. "It might be a good idea to call your contact in the KGB and tell him to reassign you somewhere out of Europe. It's not going to be healthy for you here."

She didn't speak for a moment. "You know? It was nothing personal, Alex. I truly like you."

"I know. Nothing personal."

He hung up the receiver. His initial relief was quickly being replaced by guilt and self-disgust. He had only been amusing himself, toying with his damn puzzle, fighting boredom when he had taunted Ledford. Now the game had become serious. A woman could have died to make sure Alex would reject any bid to work for Ledford's "associate." He had underestimated Ledford, who wouldn't make him the one to suffer for it.

But Angela hadn't been hurt. Why not?

Alex closed his eyes, trying to put the pieces together.

Because Ledford knew her death would not have affected Alex in any meaningful way.

But why offer an empty threat? Why make sure that Alex would immediately make a call to Rome?

"I left my driver and two of my subordinates in the living room."

What had Ledford's men been doing while he had been talking to Alex in the study? Why did he want to make sure Alex would remain in the study and give him a chance to leave the chalet?

Alex felt a sudden cold sickness in the pit of his stomach.

Who was the only person in the entire world Alex gave a damn about?

Angela was the red herring…

"Christ!" Alex's eyes flicked open. "Pavel!" He whirled and ran across the study toward the door. "Pavel? Where the hell are-"

The first thing Alex saw was the blue cashmere scarf looped around Pavel's throat.

Pavel was strapped in a white suede easy chair facing the study, a leather gag in his mouth. His black eyes bulged from their sockets and his heavy features were frozen in a rictus of agony.

He had been castrated-then carved from belly to breastbone with the butcher knife that still protruded from his chest.