C. Palov - Templar's Quest

And wasn’t that a bitter irony?

After her infant son died, she lost the will to live, feeling as though someone had driven a railroad spike through her heart, pinning her to the tracks. Except the train never came to take her out of her misery. And then, one morning, she woke up and for the first time in nearly two years she could hear the birds chirping outside the window. Could feel the sun on her face. Could taste the sweetness of sugar in her coffee. Small everyday moments that most people take for granted. The fact that she experienced an instant’s joy in them made her realize that she wanted to live. To make that clichéd fresh start.

And just when she’d decided to return to the land of the living, some group called the Seven decided that they wanted her dead.

Thank God she’d had the foresight to create a digital photo album with all of Sammy’s pictures, the CD in her safe deposit box at the bank. She could bear losing the contents of her house, but not that. Those were the only memories that truly counted.

And I can only savour those cherished memories if I stay alive.

Pensively staring out of the window, Kate could feel the onslaught of emotion about to rear its ugly head. So many ugly heads. So many crashing fears and colliding thoughts. Keep running. Don’t stop. If you do, they will hunt you down and kill you.

After the 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor, Japanese Americans were forcibly rounded up and interned in ‘War Relocation Camps’. Refusing to be separated from her husband, Kate’s grandmother accompanied her husband Yoshiro Tanaka when he was loaded on to the train bound for the Manzanar Camp. She was the only Caucasian in the internment facility other than the military police who guarded the compound. Like so many thousands of loyal Americans of Japanese descent, in the blink of an eye her grandparents lost their home, their livelihood and their community. She’d often wondered how they survived the shock of having their lives pulled out from under them. Now she knew.

You just put one foot in front of the other and keep on trudging .

Ready to trudge forward, Kate let the curtain fall back into place. Peering over her shoulder, she stared contemplatively at the man seated at the table.

Finn McGuire was the last person she ever thought she’d turn to for help. The fact that she had to turn to anyone made her acutely uncomfortable. After her husband’s hideous betrayal, trust didn’t come easy to her, although she sensed that Sergeant McGuire was loyal to a fault when it came to his brothers-in-arms.

Even though I don’t know him, I can trust him to keep me alive.

That might be the only thing that she could trust him with. So be it. She needed a bodyguard, not a lifetime companion. And though nervous about spending an extended amount of time with a man she barely knew, the other option – going it alone – would be a death sentence.

16

‘So, how are we coming along with computer hacking?’

‘I was able to get on to Jutier’s desktop, but I can’t access any of his personal files without a password,’ Finn muttered, surprised by Kate’s sudden interest.

‘Mind if I have a look?’

‘Help yourself. Although I didn’t peg you for the type who approved of computer hacking.’ Particularly given the stink she raised when he snatched the laptop from Jutier’s office.

Sitting down at a dinette chair, Kate swivelled the computer in her direction. ‘Since you’re locked out of Jutier’s files, it’s technically not hacking. I just want to take a quick peek at his desktop. You know. Curiosity. The cat.’ As soon as she said it, she winced. ‘How weird is that? We’ve been in each other’s company for only a few hours and I’m already starting to sound like you.’

‘Just as long as you don’t start looking like me.’

‘God forbid.’ As she said it, Kate’s gaze dropped to his right hand. An instant later, evidently realizing what she’d done, she glanced away.

‘Luckily, the Syrian who pulled the trigger was a lousy shot. All he got was my finger,’ Finn told her, trying to put a nonchalant spin on a potentially awkward moment.

‘Does it ever hurt?’ she asked.

Usually those kind of questions pissed the shit out of him, but for some reason he found Kate’s earnest expression oddly endearing.

‘Nah, it doesn’t hurt,’ he lied. ‘Although I can forecast when it’s going to rain.’ Because that’s when it hurt like a mother.

From time to time, Finn still caught himself about to scratch his nose, rub an eye or press a keypad with his absentee index finger. As much as he wished the amputation hadn’t happened, he tried to look on the bright side – he could still flip someone the bird. And, hell, it wasn’t like he’d had his Johnson blown off. Luckily for him, that appendage worked just fine. Sometimes a little too fine.

He shot Kate an appraising glance.

High cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, silky black hair and a wide nose gave her a slightly Asian look. Kinda exotic, actually. Which made the freckles that dotted those high cheekbones totally unexpected. Same with the eye colour; not quite grey, not quite blue. More like a muddy mix of the two.

As he continued to stare at the woman seated next to him, Finn wondered what would have happened if they’d gone on a ‘regular date’. To the movies. Followed by a bite to eat. At that new Thai restaurant over in Rosslyn. Afterwards, they would have strolled along the canal before he took her home. It would have been a given that he’d kiss her goodnight at the front door. And, if the vibe was right, she might have invited him inside for a cup of coffee. If the vibe was really right, the coffee would’ve been served the next morning. As perfect as a date can get.

Nice daydream. Except they’d had a different kind of date. Not to mention that it was hard to kiss a lady at the front door when she no longer had a front door. Or even a house, for that matter.

Jesus! She must think I’m a real bastard.

For some reason, that thought bothered him.

‘Don’t call retreat just yet,’ Kate suddenly announced, tapping a fingertip against the laptop screen. ‘Here’s Jutier’s Day Planner. Hopefully, we won’t need a password to open it.’

‘I can’t imagine the French dude would have been stupid enough to schedule Dixie and Johnny K’s murder, but yeah, go ahead, let’s have a look-see.’

Kate’s fingers deftly moved across the keyboard.

‘I’m in.’ She opened the calendar for the month of August. ‘There’s tonight’s reception. Tomorrow morning, August third, he has a ten o’clock manicure scheduled. Later in the day, he’s playing a round of golf at the Congressional Country Club.’

‘I didn’t know Frenchmen could play golf,’ Finn snickered. ‘And the thought that he was going to have his nails done ahead of time is more than this beer-swigging soldier can handle. Pass me the Freedom Fries on the double-quick.’

Ignoring him, Kate continued to read aloud from the calendar. ‘The day after that, he’s booked on Air France Flight 039. And, the following day, August fifth at eleven o’clock, he’s scheduled to attend –’ Kate grinned excitedly – ‘ “ une réunion du sept ”.’

‘English would be nice.’

‘A meeting of the Seven,’ she translated, still grinning from ear to ear.

‘Paydirt! Yeah, boy.’ Although he didn’t grin, Finn came damned close. ‘Where’s the meeting being held?’

Kate moved the cursor over the calendar date and clicked. ‘The detail screen is blank.’

‘No problem. Let’s go out on the Internet and get the route information for Air France Flight 039.’