“So this whole thing was a setup then. She didn’t bring me here to kill Thornton, did she?”

  Leon shook his head.

  “Thornton’s death was already in the works. She brought me here to kill me.”

  Leon nodded. “I was supposed to take care of you that first day. You got the drop on me, though. I didn’t want to hand you that Browning. If I didn’t, you would have killed me. I could see that. I had no choice. Adapt and overcome, right, mate?” He paused, looked toward the house, then back at Jack with a pained expression. “Remember that cook in the restaurant?”

  “The red bearded one? The guy we saw on TV who’d been giving us the tough guy look in the kitchen?”

  “That’s the one, and that was no look, Jack. He’s my step-brother. He was going to help me take care of you. I figured you’d be a corpse in the bathroom and he was going to come in after the first shot.”

  “What about the guy that took me to the warehouse?”

  “One of mine.”

  “Why?”

  “We figured that you’d be spotted in there and Naseer would do what Naseer does. Apparently, you’re better at hiding than figuring things out.”

  “Mason?”

  Leon shook his head. “He’s legit. His partner not so much, though.”

  “I figured that out.”

  “Too late, though, right?”

  Jack said nothing. Neither did Leon.

  “The bombing at the hotel?” Jack said.

  “Two purposes, really. To scare you and to eliminate some possible witnesses.”

  “You two were behind it?”

  Leon shrugged.

  “What connection did Dottie have with Naseer?” Jack said.

  “Coincidental, really.”

  “Why have me kill the Prime Minister?”

  “Two birds, one stone.”

  “Meaning?”

  Leon glanced out toward the sea. He inhaled deeply. He swung his head back around, glanced at the ground, then back up toward Jack. “Get rid of you and him without having to be directly involved.”

  “She was involved. She was on the phone.”

  “Prove it.” Leon held out his arms.

  “I get that she wanted me dead. But why him? What did he do to her?”

  “He led the inquisition that got her removed from her position.”

  Jack searched his memory, but had no recollection of this.

  Leon must have noticed the confused expression on Jack’s face. “A few years back there had been a cover up of something that happened. Dottie gave an order to do something that shouldn’t have been done. Parkin was a fresh face on the political scene at that time, and he had some knowledge of this action. He’d been involved. Me too. He wanted to make a name for himself, so he used his inside knowledge and took her down. She lost her job, her pension and all retirement money. After that she took up with Thornton.”

  “So she blames him for ruining her life and me for making it even worse.”

  “Basically.”

  “Why tell me all this?”

  “To clear my conscience and let you know how this happened. She’d changed a lot over the last few years, Jack. She wasn’t the same woman you knew.”

  Jack nodded, said nothing.

  “All right, Jack. I’m done playing with you. You’ve obviously got Dottie, so let me be. I did what I was told. I’m a soldier one hundred percent, through and through. I followed orders.” He took a step back. “Let me get on my boat and go. I’ve shoveled so much garbage in my life, it’s time for me to retire.”

  “You and me both.”

  Leon turned around and stepped into the boat.

  “I can’t let you leave,” Jack said as he extended his arm and aimed at Leon.

  Leon looked over his shoulder.

  “Jack!” Sasha called from behind.

  Jack glanced to the side. In his peripheral vision he saw Leon turn. Jack whipped his head back around. Leon lifted the pistol into the air that he must’ve had concealed. Jack did the same. The second that passed stretched into minutes in his head. He couldn’t fire too soon. The bullet would miss and it’d spell death for him. He couldn’t wait too long, either. Leon was trained, skilled, and would get his aimed shot off quickly.

  Then the explosive roar of a shot ripped through the air. Jack pulled back in anticipation. Seagulls rose from their perches on the sea. Jack waited for the pain to spread. But no bullet penetrated his flesh. He refocused and watched as Leon’s body jerked forward, bowed backward. A mist of pink rose into the air above the guy’s head. Jack stared on with an open mouth as Leon’s body turned slightly to the side. He saw the bullet hole in the guy’s head. Then Leon fell over the side of his boat into the shallow water.

  Jack looked to his right. Bear stood atop a small sand dune with the MP7 clutched tight in both hands. Blood covered the big man’s stomach, torso and upper legs.

  Small waves lapped over Leon’s body. The pull of the sea began turning him over and over. Jack and Sasha dragged the corpse out of the water and dropped him on the sand. Jack then turned his attention to Bear.

  “Jesus, Bear. Are you OK?”

  “Just a flesh wound.”

  “You sure? Looks nasty.”

  “I’m all right, Jack. Ambulance’ll be here soon and they’ll get me checked out.”

  Jack and Sasha each took a side and wrapped an arm around Bear’s back. They started toward the house. Jack looked over his shoulder. The small boat had slipped into the sea and drifted away.

  “What about Dottie?” Jack said.

  “Dead,” Bear said. “Godfrey’s detained inside, although he might bleed out and join Dottie soon.”

  “Let him,” Sasha said.

  “Mia? Was she in there?”

  “And Erin and Hannah. They’re all OK. Shaken up, but OK.” Bear’s knees gave out, he nearly dragged the other two to the ground.

  Jack and Sasha stabilized the big man. They heard a car pull into the drive. Four doors opened and closed. Alex and Jon began shouting for them.

  “Back here,” Sasha called.

  Sirens approached. Cops, maybe. Ambulance, hopefully.

  Alex and Jon repeatedly asked questions.

  Jack, Bear and Sasha repeatedly ignored them.

  Jack entered the house and located the two women and Mia, huddled together by the front door. They came to him, Mia leading the way. He lifted her in the air, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Erin and Hannah joined them in a tight embrace, filled with tears.

  71

  The van dropped Clarissa off at the edge of the suburban nightmare and the asphalt jungle. She walked down familiar streets toward Naseer’s mansion. She wondered if she should think of it in those terms any longer. Who would be in charge now with Naseer dead? The organization had contingency plans, she knew that, but she didn’t know the content of the plans. Naseer’s death would be nothing more than a speed bump in their journey.

  Her organization had a contingency plan as well. And whether or not it went into effect depended heavily on what happened after she entered the home.

  The cool evening air found its way inside her coat wrapped around her body. The sun set behind her. Its final rays warmed her neck and the back of her head. The two sensations left her feeling as though she floated down the street. As she continued further into the neighborhood, she saw the last of the local children leave their posts outside and head in for their dinner or their baths or perhaps their favorite TV program. Maybe all three. She had trouble remembering what it was like to be a child.

  Clarissa kept walking.

  Her cell phone buzzed through her coat lining against her stomach. She reached into her pocket and pulled it out. She didn’t recognize the number on the display. It didn’t matter, though. Only a couple people had the number, and only one would be calling it. And she couldn’t talk to Jack. Not tonight. Maybe not ever again. She tossed the phone onto the street and stepped on it, grinding her heel to ensure its destruction.

  The palatial estate rose up as she reached the crest of the hill. She could see over the concrete fence that surrounded the property. The front lights were on. Several cars were parked at the far end of the driveway, near the house. They wasted no time getting back to business.

  What was that business? Did it have anything to do with her disappearance?

  She still had nothing concrete on what Naseer’s plans had been. And now she wondered if the organization would be more aggressive with him out of the picture. Naseer was native to Great Britain and at times Clarissa figured that might have worked against him. He would have denied it, but the truth lie in his actions.

  She reached the gate and pressed the buzzer. A camera rotated and pointed at her. A golf cart approached. The man that appeared at the gate knew her, and she knew him. He let her through, but did not offer her a ride. She watched as he hopped into his golf cart, turned around and headed back down the driveway. It didn’t bother her. The possibility that she only had a few hours left to live was very real. And if that was to be the case, she wanted to enjoy her last few minutes outside.

  She kept walking. The cherry trees that lined the driveway no longer had their blossoms. She spotted one or two trapped between blades of grass or pressed into the concrete below her feet. Other than that, they were gone. Carried away by the same gusts of wind she might have later felt pass through her body while in Belgium. And with the blooms went the sweet fragranced air. Only a faded memory now.

  Funny how quickly that happens.

  The man in the golf cart waited by the front door. It made no sense how he left her behind only to now stand obviously annoyed by how long it took her to reach the house.

  She approached him and nodded.

  “Samir will see you,” he said as he opened the door and allowed her inside.

  “Where?”

  “The office.”

  “Naseer’s office?”

  “Samir’s office.”

  She understood. Naseer was gone, and Samir had taken over. At times, she felt a connection with the man and felt by his actions and words that he had a soft soul. She’d also seen him angry, and that side of him appeared to be ten times worse than anything she’d seen from Naseer. Day and night, north and south, ying and yang, whatever one wanted to call it. The guy was polar opposites of himself, sometimes in the same conversation.

  She feared that would spell bad things for the world.

  Clarissa kept walking. She made her way past the foyer, through the hallway. Cameras turned from their positions on the ceiling. Every movement she made was under scrutiny. When she reached the office door, she stopped, took a breath, then knocked. She heard the clicks of the automatic locks. She opened the door and stepped into the office.

  “Hello, Samir,” she said. “So glad to see you were unharmed in that—”

  “Sit down, shut up.”

  She walked across the room and placed a hand on the chair. She would have felt much better with the heft of a pistol pressing against her lower back. Unfortunately, she was unarmed. Sinclair insisted.

  “Why weren’t you in Paris?”

  Clarissa had prepared herself for this question. But in her head, it had been Naseer asking her. After she heard of his death, she had no idea who would be the one to question her. She never expected the face across from her to be present. And this time, she could not judge his mood.

  “Well?”

  “I was in Paris, Samir. Right up until I got word of what had happened.”

  His eyes narrowed. “How’d you find out?”

  “I saw it reported.”

  He nodded. “We had men in Paris at the train station.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?”

  “I saw them.”

  “Why didn’t you go to them?”

  “Because, outside of you and Naseer,” she paused, “I don’t trust any of these guys.”

  He smiled. “Smart girl. They say it looked like you were being followed by some agents.”

  She hadn’t been prepared for that. “I was. I gave them the slip too.”

  “Why would French agents be pursuing you?”

  She leaned forward, placed both elbows on the desk and leaned into her palms. “Do I look like a choir girl to you?”

  Samir leaned forward. His face stopped a foot or so from hers. “No, you don’t.”

  She smiled, said nothing, hoped the fear was not evident in her eyes.

  He eased back in his seat. The harsh look faded, and a smile crossed his face. He tapped a pen on his chin, then bit down on it. “Go get cleaned up. We’ll have dinner in an hour.”

  “I can stay?”

  “You can stay. On one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “You’ll treat me the way you treated Naseer.”

  “I’ll treat you better.”

  “Go on, get ready.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she rose and turned for the door. She slipped into the hall and made her way to her room. The cameras remained stationary and did not track her every move.

  72

  Jack spent two weeks with Mia and Erin. A vacation of sorts. They toured the countryside. Drank wine. Visited Scotland. Drank wine. Went to Edinburgh, Glasgow, and he even convinced them to visit Loch Ness. It hadn’t taken much to convince Mia, but Erin had been a bit of a hard sell. In the end she caved. Perhaps it was the extra three glasses of wine that night.

  The trip taught him a lot about himself, allowed him to learn a bit about his daughter, and helped him to realize that he and Erin had no future together, no matter how much he wanted to be around Mia.

  They returned to London the night before Jack was to leave for the States.

  Jack and Erin stood on her flat’s balcony on a cool May evening. The blooms were gone from all the trees that lined the street below.

  “I’d like to see her as often as possible.”

  “I think she’d like that too, Jack. She’s warmed up to you. There’s some walls to take down yet, but I’ll help with that. I think in time she’ll abandon the father she thought she had and accept you.”

  “Seems like she’s started to.”

  “She has.”

  “Would you mind if she came to the States for a month or so each year?”

  “As long as you come here one weekend a month.”

  “You need a break that often?”

  “From reality.”

  He held out his hand. “Deal.”

  She smiled, took his hand, looked up at the moon.

  “Erin, you don’t think there’s a chance you and I—”

  “Don’t be crazy, Jack. We couldn’t make it work when we were young and dumb. Why on earth do you think we could now?”

  He paused. Followed her gaze and watched thin silver clouds pass over the moon. He thought about saying something along the lines of he’d changed, she’d changed, perhaps they could continue to do so until they were one cohesive unit.

  He didn’t.

  “You know I’m right,” she said.

  “Yeah, I know.” He pulled her close and hugged her. Her soft cheek felt cool against his. He closed his eyes and inhaled her lavender scent. Her lips brushed against his jawline. He opened his eyes. Through the window, he saw Mia sleeping on the couch. In her arms she held the stuffed Nessie he purchased for her in Scotland.

  “Maybe you can stay tonight?” she said.

  “No, I should go.”

  She pulled back, nodded, reached for his face.

  He turned and left the balcony.

  Erin remained outside.

  He stopped at the couch, knelt down and kissed Mia’s cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it, sweet angel.” He rose and went to the door. He cast a final look over his shoulder. His eyes may have watered.

  The next day he met Bear and Mandy at the bank. He’d arranged for a large portion of their funds to be deposited in a joint account that he planned to sign over to Bear. That’d settle them, mostly. Could you settle a debt with no intrinsic value?

  “Sorry you didn’t get to do a little more during your time here,” Jack said to Mandy.

  She shrugged. “It’s OK. Number 10 is a pretty cool place when you’re not stuck in that basement. And that was pretty neat too.”

  Bear tousled her hair. “Nothing’s ordinary about her life, Jack.”

  “I know. Comes with the territory when someone hangs around with you all the time.” He slid the form in front of Bear. “Now sign.”

  “How much is in there?”

  “Over eight million.”

  “That’s a lot more than half.”

  It was closer to eighty percent. The majority of the other twenty was going to Erin in cash and a trust fund for Mia.

  “What do I need? I’m going to buy a house on an island and sleep and drink and swim. Maybe not in that order. You’ve got her to look out for and take care of. Food, clothes, lots of clothes.” He smiled at Mandy. “Then college, a big wedding.”

  The girl giggled.

  “She’s not dating till she’s thirty,” Bear said.

  Mandy elbowed him in the hip.

  “I can’t take that much, Jack.”

  “Forget about it, Bear. I’m good.”

  Bear sighed, then signed, and they went inside an office and settled down into uncomfortable chairs opposite a banker. The man across the desk explained each part of the form. Jack tuned him out. It didn’t matter to him anymore.

  Fifteen minutes later they stood on the sidewalk.

  “Hey, what happened with Mason?” Jack said. “He recover all right?”

  Bear nodded. “He did. And get this, he and Gloria are going to remarry.”

  “Good for them. Hope it can last.”

  Bear shook his head. “Never does.”

  “Catch a cab to the airport together?” Jack said.

  “Nah,” Bear said.

  “Staying here?”

  “Paris. Gonna catch that tunnel chunnel thing. Remember, we saw that show on Discovery one time, the Brits and the French digging under the channel.”