So Jack decided that the best option was to wait for the moment when preparation and opportunity met. Random chances had to be ignored from now on.

  He began to feel the need for a partner now that a third party had become involved. He was concerned that MI5 had been added to the mix. He couldn’t discount that MI6 might be involved as well since they were the agency that monitored worldwide events and likely notified MI5 to his presence.

  Who could he get to help? His closest trusted option, Pierre, was laid up in a hospital in France. Although Jack planned to visit the man after he completed his work in London, he knew that the Frenchman would be of no use to him in this situation.

  Jack reached inside his coat and retrieved his cell phone from an interior pocket. He dialed a familiar number, placed the phone to the side of his head, listened to it ring. He glanced up from the road and noticed at the last possible moment that the traffic light had turned red. He slammed on the brakes, reached for the steering wheel with both hands, dropped the phone. The car screeched to a stop halfway into the intersection. Horns blared, old men stared. One waved an obscenity at him. Jack waved back, then lowered his hand down between his knees and felt along the floor for the cell phone. It didn’t take long to find it. He looked at the display and saw the cell was still connected, so he pushed the speaker icon. Still ringing. Jack kept the line connected and it kept ringing, never diverting to voicemail.

  Finally, he hung up and redialed. Perhaps he’d hit an inadvertent number last time.

  The line connected, rang. No answer. No voice mail.

  “Come on, Bear,” Jack said. “What’s going on?”

  He knew what was going on, though. He had dialed Bear’s forwarding number. In the past, it had always rang to whatever phone the big man had on him. It was obvious that Bear had removed the forwarding. Now it rang into emptiness, drifting away like a wayward asteroid that had recently passed by Earth and been sling-shotted around in orbit, hurled back out toward deep space.

  He couldn’t blame Bear. The man had found peace in his life, had Mandy to live for. Her life had been at risk twice because of Jack. It was in Bear’s best interest to stay away from him.

  Still, Jack figured that perhaps there’d been a mistake with the forwarding number. So he did something he’d never done before. He dialed Bear’s personal number direct.

  The line didn’t ring though. Instead, there were a series of tones and then the voice of a woman who’d probably been dead for twenty years came on the line and told him that she was sorry because the number he was trying to reach had been disconnected. And, unfortunately, there was no more information available that she could provide.

  Now this didn’t mean that Jack couldn’t reach Bear if he wanted to. He still had connections that could find anyone, anywhere. But it was obvious that his friend had moved on and wanted to maintain his distance and obscurity.

  It was for the best, probably.

  Jack decided that in a few months he’d find Bear. At the very least, he wanted to make sure his old partner received his cut of their earnings.

  That left him with no one to turn to, except for maybe Leon. Dottie trusted him, which meant that Jack should be able to as well. Her opinion had held weight with him in the past. This time was different, though. He couldn’t place his finger on why though, and he couldn’t shake the feeling.

  The other option was asking Mason for help, whether from the man himself, or one of his agents. But that’d be a dead end. Jack knew it. They were willing to pay him to do the job so they could distance themselves. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask, though. Maybe it would result in Mason recommending someone from outside his organization.

  So Jack had three choices. Work alone, work with Leon, or work with an unknown agent. Each presented positive and negative aspects. Leon had Special Forces experience and that could not be discounted in a situation like this. It didn’t mean he was a perfect partner, though. Jack had been around many guys who fit the same profile, and rarely did his and their methods mesh. Anyone Mason knew would have a background similar to Jack’s, which meant they might be able to follow his methods without too much instruction. The problem was he didn’t know if Mason was trustworthy, and anyone he provided might be there to spy and give a firsthand account back to MI5. Boom, roasted was the thought that came to Jack’s mind.

  Working alone was the only option that made sense. If something went wrong, Jack would be the only one responsible and he’d only be accountable for himself. Better that way, he figured.

  He spotted a hotel a block ahead, on the right. He slowed down, pulled into the lot, parked behind the hotel. Twenty minutes later he was in his room, on his back, close to asleep. The cell phone rang, the one Dottie had given him. He answered it without first checking the number.

  “It’s Leon,” the man said. “I have the things you requested. Where are you?”

  Jack told Leon the name of the hotel and Leon said he’d be there in a half hour.

  15

  Clarissa averted her eyes in time to avoid the stare of the older man dressed in the designer suit. She entered the house. He exited. She felt him leering at her, even after she passed. She felt certain if she turned her head, she’d see him looking back at her.

  “Hello, doll,” he said.

  She smiled, nodded, didn’t look back.

  “I said hello.”

  “And I heard you.”

  He said something else, but she’d already passed through the foyer and turned down the hall that led to Naseer’s office. He had called her a few moments before and told her he wanted to see her. Fortunately, she was close to home. She did not want to have to answer to where she’d been all day.

  The hall lights were dimmer than normal. The hallway felt muted, warm. She took a few deep breaths before reaching his office, then stopped shy of the door. She straightened her shirt and slacks. She felt silly doing so. She knew that Naseer watched the hallway on his computer monitor.

  Clarissa heard the door unlock. She reached for the knob and pushed the door open and stepped inside. Naseer didn’t look up as she entered his office. He nodded once while his stare remained glued to his monitor.

  “Who was the old guy?” she asked.

  “Just an old guy,” he replied.

  “Was that the British creep?”

  “I thought I was the British creep.”

  “You are, and I’m guessing he’s your twin?”

  Naseer laughed and his gaze broke free from the monitor.

  “I think his suit alone cost more than my entire wardrobe,” she said.

  “You do wear some rags.”

  “Yeah, but I make those rags look good.”

  “That you do.”

  “So, what did you want to see me about?”

  Naseer glanced back at his screen, clicked his mouse a few times while jerking it side to side, then returned his focus to Clarissa. “I have a meeting in the morning.”

  “With that old guy?”

  “Why are you so interested in him?”

  Clarissa shrugged. “No reason. He just seems…different.”

  “He is different. Anyway, he is of no consequence. The reason I am telling you about my meeting is that I am likely not going to return for a few days. They may need me elsewhere, just for a little while.”

  “OK.”

  “You may want to consider traveling for a few days. Perhaps take the train to Paris and replace those rags you are wearing.” He reached down and pulled open his middle desk drawer. He smiled, reached inside, pulled out a wallet and placed it on the desk. “There’s about fifty thousand in euros and traveler’s checks in there. That should cover your expenses.”

  Clarissa took the wallet and stuffed it in her purse without inspecting it. She suspected it contained a bug or a tracking device.

  “Why can’t I stay here?”

  “It might not be safe.”

  “It’ll be safe when you get back?”

  “Safer than when I’m not here.”

  “Are you worried about external forces? Or internal presences?”

  “Sometimes I think you are too sharp to be with me.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  Naseer leaned forward. “Go on, leave me. Book your ticket as soon as you get back to your room. I want you to leave first thing in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir.” Clarissa rose, left the room. She felt him watching her on his monitor as she made her way through the halls to her room. He had every square inch of the place covered. That probably included her room. Would he watch her all night? She figured he had better things to do, but she wouldn’t take any chances with the wallet until she’d left the house.

  So she opened a drawer and placed the wallet in the back, under a stack of shirts. That would make it difficult for a bug to pick up anything she said.

  Ten minutes later she had booked her train ticket to Paris. Whether or not she was going was another story. She needed to check in with Sinclair and update him. He might have something she could do tomorrow. Calling him from the house scared her, though. Naseer was a paranoid man. And rich. Very rich. The combination of the two meant he had nearly every inch of the place under surveillance. She’d combed her room and found nothing, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t something there. Even the bathroom had to be considered risky.

  She decided to take a walk. She stuffed her cell phone down her pants and left her room and navigated through the house, taking a route that limited her exposure and reduced her chances of running into Naseer. She passed Samir near the foyer and said hello. Aside from returning her greeting, he ignored her.

  She stepped outside into the cool evening air. The sweet scent of cherry trees in bloom enveloped her. They lined the quarter-mile long driveway and littered the property. Pink blossoms, dark and pale, floated through the air like bloodstained snowflakes. Clarissa dragged her feet along the ground, creating trails. The bare space quickly filled in as fresh blossoms landed.

  Mindful of lingering too long, Clarissa started down the driveway. The further away from the house, the better. She reached the end of the driveway. There she turned right and walked another block. Aside from one passing car, the street was deserted. She pulled out the cell and placed her call.

  Sinclair answered.

  “I need to know what you know about Jack Noble being over here,” she said.

  “Funny,” Sinclair said. “I was going to say the same thing to you. How did you find out about that?”

  “Naseer was on the phone and mentioned his name.”

  “What does Naseer want with him?”

  “Nothing. It was whoever he was talking to. The guy wanted Naseer to dig up any information he could find on Jack.”

  “OK, then. Well, shortly after you last saw Jack, he received a call asking him to do someone a favor.”

  “He’s here to kill someone.”

  “Presumably.”

  Clarissa knew there was nothing to presume. People didn’t have Jack travel four thousand miles for nothing. She couldn’t tell if Sinclair knew the details and chose to withhold the information from her. She sure didn’t plan to offer up the information that Brandon had divulged to her the night before.

  “And I’d recommend you stay away from him, Clarissa. No good can come from getting mixed up with him over there. You’ll blow your cover, and we’ll have to start over. Correction, I’ll have to start all over. You’ll find yourself in Alaska for three months.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Nothing’s getting blown, don’t worry.”

  “What else can you tell me?”

  A heavy gust of wind blew by, carrying with it a wave of cherry blossoms. Strands of her hair covered her face. She tucked them behind her ears while waiting for the breeze to die down.

  “Big meeting tomorrow. Something is going down. He wants me to go to Paris for a few days.”

  “Interesting.”

  “You know anything about it?”

  “No. Do you?”

  “Not really. Ran into some older British guy when I returned today. I believe he’s involved in some way.”

  “Got a name?’

  She decided to feed one piece of information to Sinclair in hopes that it would get the man to reciprocate. “Walloway. I remember hearing the name Walloway.”

  There was silence on the other end, and Clarissa figured Sinclair had punched the name into his computer and now waited on the results.

  “That ring any bells with you?” she asked.

  “Thornton Walloway,” Sinclair said. “He’s a billionaire, made a lot of money from a glass company. We believe he has terrorist ties, but nothing has ever been proven. He’s stayed pretty clean, although there was an incident last year in Monte Carlo.”

  “What happened?”

  “Um,” Sinclair clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth three times. “Domestic issue.”

  Clarissa said nothing.

  “Well, if he’s involved with Naseer, or anyone else for that matter, he is quite discreet about it. Anyway, I need you close to that meeting.”

  “I don’t know how. He gave me a wallet with a lot of cash. I’m guessing the wallet’s bugged. Probably stuck a tracking device in there.”

  “Tell you what, Clarissa. If I can find out where this meeting is, I’ll have someone meet you at the train station. You give them the wallet and then you go to the meeting.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that. “If he spots me near there then this whole thing is over.”

  “You’re right, you’re right. Dammit, we’ve got to get eyes on this meeting.”

  “Let me reach out to Jack. He can help.”

  “Not a chance. He’s not right for this kind of work anymore, Clarissa. You involve him, you are going to get him killed. Might get yourself killed, too.”

  “Just a thought, that’s all.”

  “OK.”

  “OK, so I’m getting on a train for Paris in the morning?”

  “Yes, but call me before you board, in case something changes.”

  Clarissa said OK and goodbye and hung up. She didn’t like it, but she knew she had little say in the matter. They’d worked hard to get her into this position, and ruining her cover was not an option.

  She walked up the blossom stained driveway, returned to the house, to her room, hid the cell phone in the false bottom of her bag. Then she went to the dining room for dinner. She found the room empty, which suited her fine.

  Halfway through her meal, Samir entered.

  “Naseer wanted me to make sure you are all set for tomorrow. You have your ticket for Paris?”

  Clarissa nodded.

  “What time?”

  She swallowed her food and managed to say, “The train leaves at eight a.m.”

  “Check with me before you leave. I may be accompanying you.”

  Clarissa smiled and nodded, portraying the image of calm to Samir. On the inside, panic took over. Her heart raced, her palms dampened, her lungs tightened. Why would he travel with her? Had Naseer found her cell phone and bugged it? Did he have parabolic microphones in use? She might have been in range of them while speaking with Sinclair. Could that be the reason he skipped dinner tonight? If that was the case, and this is how they planned on taking care of the matter, she felt confident she’d have the upper hand against Samir. Nothing about him intimidated her.

  “OK,” she said.

  Clarissa waited until Samir left the room. She finished her dinner and retired to her quarters for the night.

  16

  Jack awoke to a knock at his door. It hadn’t startled him or caused him to jolt upright. He simply opened his eyes. His hand slid out from under his head and down his side until it found the handle of the Beretta. He waited for another knock if for no other reason than to verify there was someone at his door. Why expend energy if he didn’t need to?

  He heard the second knock, looked at his watch. Thirty minutes had passed since he spoke with Leon.

  Right on time.

  He swung his legs over the bed and took his time getting up. Another sharp knock. He reached for the door knob with his left hand. Lifted the Beretta to chest level. An awkward set up for sure. The door opened from left to right. He jarred it a crack. Leon stood on the landing carrying a black duffel bag and a cardboard cup holder containing two paper cups filled with coffee. Steam escaping through the thin sliver in the lids. Jack took a step back to his right and opened the door.

  A minute later the men sat across from each other at the small round table on the opposite side of the room next to the wide window. A slice of yellow light from a street lamp split the table in half. Jack on one side, Leon on the other.

  “Everything you need is in that bag,” Leon said.

  “Show me,” Jack said. He reached over and pulled the blinds open. The windows were mirrored on the outside, so he had no concern over being watched.

  Leon rose, took two steps to his right toward the bed and unzipped the bag. He pulled out an M40 sniper rifle, held it out for Jack to inspect.

  Jack waved him off with a flick of his left hand.

  Leon placed the rifle on the bed, reached back into the bag and retrieved an HK MP7 with a suppressor affixed to the barrel. Once again, he held the weapon out. This time Jack reached out and took the submachine gun from Leon. He set it down on the table, to his right.

  “What else?” Jack said.

  Leon smiled, reached in the bag a third time. He pulled out a Beretta M9.

  “How’d you know?” Jack asked.

  “I’ve got my ways.” He placed the 9mm on the table and sat down. “No lethal pens or any nonsense like that. You’ll have to do this like a man.”