Robin Perini - Last Stand In Texas

He sagged into the leather chair behind his desk and tossed his phone onto the perfectly polished mahogany. He unlocked the top drawer and pulled out a folder containing his plans for the future. When he ran Thomas, Incorporated.

He flipped through the pages. Burke would expand the company’s power nationally, and then internationally. There would be no limits.

His cell vibrated to life.

He glanced at the caller. Orren better have some good news. “Report.”

“Mr. Thomas. We found her.”

Stefan’s SUV bounced over the West Texas badlands, putting his back-road driving skills to the test. He glanced at his GPS. He should be there soon. A strip of vivid purple and orange winked at him from the western horizon, the only color except for a few blooming cacti. The harsh landscape didn’t mince words; dramatic, beautiful in its own way, but nothing like his home country of Bellevaux, strewn with lakes and rivers, lush rolling green hills and vineyards.

His vehicle kicked up dust from the parched earth. He’d been traveling a cattle trail for a half hour, and he just hoped he’d picked the right path. He’d never rendezvoused with Annie in the same place twice. The woman put his own paranoia to shame.

On the other hand, she survived when by all rights she should be dead.

They both lived in the world of gray shadows, where light and dark, truth and lies, right and wrong fused into a strange, inseparable muddle.

The vehicle rose in elevation just enough to see another mile or so into the distance when he made out the top of a nondescript tow camper.

Right where she said she’d be.

He pulled his SUV about fifty feet from her makeshift home and exited, hands raised, leaving his SIG Sauer in the vehicle. Annie had her rules about guns, after all.

She didn’t show herself, but he knew she could see him. Probably had her sight trained on him right now.

“Annie?” he called out.

She didn’t answer, so he waited.

And waited.

A figure finally rose from the protection of a group of saltbushes. Annie cradled an Uzi, her favorite weapon, and strode toward him. She’d piled her loose curly hair on top of her head, not the dark brown he recalled from their first meeting or the auburn from their last appointment. No, this visit, golden brown kissed with blond framed her face, highlighting an unexpected softness to her appearance. Maybe her natural color. He couldn’t be certain, but it suited her.

She wore her usual black jeans and a too-large black T-shirt. By the time the sun set she’d be practically invisible.

Her smile widened when she reached him, a smile that revealed the hidden beauty she made an effort to conceal. He’d never understood why.

“Léon, you look good for a dead man.”

“And you look too beautiful to be dead.”

He bent down and kissed her cheek gently. They’d been friends for about five years now. She knew him as well as anybody, but even she didn’t know his true identity. When CTC had smuggled him into the United States to save his life, they had provided her the information for his Léon Royce persona, but the company had never revealed his real name.

“How’ve you been, Annie?”

A shadowed expression he recognized all too well crossed her face. “Not bad. And you?”

Just the sort of conversation friends with benefits had when they kept each other at arm’s length. Two people with major trust issues and on the run didn’t make for a good long-term relationship. They’d recognized the reality early on, so they performed the identical dance each time they met.

“You planning on coming out of hiding anytime soon?” He always asked.

“Probably not. I just got my hair done for the apocalypse,” she said with a sad smile. “You and I made our choices years ago. This is my life now—helping troublemakers like you and innocent people who have nowhere else to turn.”

Faith and her daughter flashed into his mind. He shoved them aside. He really shouldn’t care.

Except he did.

“So, business has been good?”

“Better than ever.” She sighed. “Power corrupts everything. Law enforcement and government included. Sometimes disappearing is the only answer.”

“Truer words.”

“So why the smoke signal?” she asked. “Ransom usually contacts me for a job.”

“This is personal.” Stefan shifted his weight and met her gaze, direct and unwavering. “I need to disappear.”

She let out a low whistle. “You’re leaving CTC?”

He nodded.

“I see.” She strode across her campsite and unlocked a series of padlocks she’d attached to the reinforced door of the camper. “Come inside.”

He removed his hat and ducked inside. The last time she’d invited him in, they’d headed straight to the bedroom. This time he took the opposite turn to a sophisticated set of equipment, a high-tech wizard’s dream. Annie could forge any identification card needed. She could backstop an elaborate past, or tap into satellite imagery and even street cameras—for a price. He didn’t want to think about what other intel she could lay her hands on.

She slid behind her desk.

“Léon needs to die a public death,” he said, sitting across from her. “I want a new identity. A fresh start. A clean slate.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Does Ransom know?”

“You’re the first.”

She smiled in that knowing way of hers. “Yeah, right. He knows something is up.”

“Probably.”

Her fingers flew across a keyboard. “I can kill Léon without too much trouble. Creating someone brand-new could take a bit longer. Are you at risk?”

Her forehead furrowed. He recognized the worry. “I’m not in imminent danger, but it’s only a matter of time. I’ve gotten sloppy, made too many connections. It could be dangerous if—”

“The people wanting to kill you ever found you,” she finished. “Why do you think I live out of a trailer? I can’t afford long-term anything.” Annie leaned back in her chair. “Starting over isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, either.”

Like Faith was obviously trying to do. Her terrified expression suddenly came to mind. Helping people like her was what CTC did—and what Annie did. What he tried to do.

“I can’t go back to who I was.” He drummed his fingers on his leg. How could he put his desire into words that didn’t sound ridiculous? “I want—”

“A normal life.” Annie chuckled and he met her gaze. Despite her laughter, commiseration laced Annie’s eyes. “The minute you chose to play spy guy, you hung up the normal hat.”

“You have no idea how true that statement is.” He’d become Léon Royce because of his undercover work. He’d become a ghost to his family and his country because of his own choices. Now, he had to live with the consequences.

She rounded her desk and hitched her hip on its edge. “I may not know your true identity, but I doubt you were ever ordinary. That’s what you’ll have to become for this to work.”

Stefan flicked the brim of his Stetson. “Ordinary. I like the sound of that.”

THE LITTLE SHACK they’d called home wasn’t safe. Faith nails bit into her palm, trying not to let Zoe see her true panic. Her gaze raced through the room. Nothing had been left untouched. Even the bookcase shelves had been strewn across the floor. The coffee table lay on its side. Faith’s heart raced as she surveyed the damage. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

She could only protect her daughter.

In her old life, she would’ve immediately rushed to a neighbor’s house and called the police. She didn’t have that luxury now. They were alone, and everything they owned was inside that house. She couldn’t walk away.