Darren Lemke - Gemini Man

“If I thought the world needed another me, I would have had a kid,” Henry said.

Lassiter wet her lips. “That program pre-dates my arrival at the agency. You must know that,” she said in a stiff, professional tone. If she sounded boring, her audience would lose interest.

Henry laughed. “Oh, that’s a perfect DIA answer. Always cover your ass, deny everything, and if something goes wrong, duck !”

He said the last word so loudly, Lassiter did exactly that, putting her hands over her face to protect it from flying glass. Except there was no glass, no gunshots from ten o’clock or two o’clock, just the bike messenger staring at her like she’d gone crazy and a café full of people who probably thought they were watching a reality show.

“Now tip the nice bike guy,” Henry ordered her in a condescending tone.

Lassiter sat up, smoothing her hair and squaring her shoulders. She pointed an index finger at the bike messenger. “You—” She lowered the finger ninety degrees and aimed it at the front door. “Can go.”

The messenger gave her a parting sneer and Lassiter did likewise, listening to the tik-tik-tik sound of his bike shoes on the floor. If he had really thought he was going to get a tip after that shit-show, maybe she should have kneecapped him, just as a life lesson.

But the good news was, the rest of the coffee shop rabble took the messenger’s departure to mean the show really was over now and turned their attention back to their own phones or tablets or laptops. Except for the wide-eyed couple at the table on her left; they seemed to be hoping for a better finale.

Lassiter turned in her chair, pointedly giving her back to them and everyone else, mostly so she could search the buildings and the street for sniper rifles. She still didn’t see anything at ten and two, either up high or at ground level. Brogan had to be bluffing, she was almost certain of it, but in this business, you didn’t stay alive by being almost certain.

“I have an agent of yours here with me,” Henry said. “Danielle Zakarewski. She wants to come in.”

“Fine.” Lassiter decided to kneecap Zakarewski just on general principle.

“Like me, she’s a patriot,” Henry went on. “But un like me, she wants to spend the next couple decades scoring touchdowns for you assholes. Her safety is non-negotiable. Remember I’ve got you covered. Ten and two, Janet.”

Lassiter was vaguely aware of a barista calling out something about a decaf soy latte with an extra shot for Janet but it was just background noise.

“You cannot —” she started.

“The only person I’ll hand her off to is the person you sent after me in Cartagena,” Henry said, talking over her. “So don’t bother sending anyone else.”

“Oh, a family reunion?” Lassiter gave a short humorless laugh. “How sweet.”

“Keep it up, Janet,” Henry said, “and you’ll be the first person I ever killed for free. How soon can you get him to Budapest?”

Lassiter gave another short laugh. “How about five minutes? Does that work for you?”

There was a long moment of silence. Lassiter smiled with grim satisfaction. The smug bastard hadn’t seen that one coming.

“Good,” Henry said. She could practically hear him pretending she hadn’t just blindsided him. “She’ll be at the courtyard of the Vajdahunyad Castle at midnight tonight. Enjoy your latte.” He hung up on her.

Oh, she was going to enjoy her latte, all right—she’d enjoy it a hell of a lot more than Henry would enjoy what happened next, Lassiter fumed, putting her phone away. In fact, she should have been enjoying her goddam latte right now—where the hell was it? She looked over at the pick-up counter, frowning like a thunderstorm. If that barista had forgotten her order, Lassiter was going to rain so much hell down on her she’d be scarred for life.

Henry sat back in his chair. Danny half-expected to see steam coming out of his ears. Baron signaled their waiter for another round of espressos but she wasn’t sure Henry really needed more caffeine. On the other hand, he had set the meet for midnight and they needed to stay awake even though they were all still jet-lagged. Well, she was, anyway; Baron was such an easy-going, roll-withthe-punches kind of guy, she wasn’t sure he even got headaches. As for Henry, she was starting to think he was Superman’s secret identity.

Baron nudged her elbow. “In case you’re wondering, AMF stands for—”

“Adios, motherfucker,” Danny finished for him. “Yeah, I know.”

Both he and Henry stared at her, startled.

“Oh, come on ,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What am I, a five-year-old?”

Henry shook his head. “A better question is, how the hell did he know I was here?”

Vajdahunyad Castle was in the middle of the City Park of Budapest, which according to Danny’s phone was the oldest urban green space in Europe. Or was it the world? Henry had forgotten already. He did remember Danny telling him that Vajdahunyad Castle wasn’t just one big fortress like San Felipe Castle back in Cartagena but actually a complex comprising several buildings. Henry had chosen it as a meeting place because both park and castle were located in the middle of Budapest. He thought Danny would be much safer there. If Junior tried to abduct her, the city’s narrow streets would slow him down. Unless, of course, he went vaulting over the rooftops instead, although Henry didn’t think he’d try that with Danny. If he did, Henry was sure Junior was more likely to end up splattered on the sidewalk than she was.

But now as he sat in the car with Danny a few hundred yards from the entrance to the Vajdahunyad Castle complex, Henry was beginning to think this wasn’t such a good idea after all. It was all he could do not to keep himself from calling the whole thing off and taking her as far away from Junior as possible.

There was no question that she was a tough professional; he’d seen her in action and he knew she was anything but helpless. Or a coward, although Henry thought that a good part of her courage was down to youth and inexperience—she didn’t know how bad the bad guys could be. Of course, if she stuck with the DIA she was going to find out; she’d encounter things that most civilians never had to deal with, never even imagined. Right now, he wished more than anything that Danny Zakarewski was a civilian.

He could see how nervous she was; it made her look even younger than her years, which in turn made it harder for him to justify sending her to meet a trained killer without so much as a nail file for defense. His instincts were telling him to get her out of there, to protect her, not expose her to danger.

If Danny had known what he was thinking she would have accused him of sexism and ageism and who knew how many other -isms—capitalism, anarchism, antidisestablishmentarianism—all while going upside his head. So much had changed since he’d started out in the DIA as a young, strong, capable agent whose career was on the rise. The world was so different these days that sometimes he wasn’t sure what planet he was on. And now Danny was the young, strong, capable agent whose career was on the rise, while he was getting older.

Or trying to.

Danny took hold of the car door handle, then paused. “This is going to work, right?”

“Yep,” Henry assured her, hoping he wasn’t lying.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“He’s not exactly me but I know his taste,” he replied.

Danny turned to get out of the car, then turned back to him again. “Wait a second. You’re attracted to me?”