Read Noble Intentions: Season Three Online

Authors: L.T. Ryan

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Spies & Politics, #Espionage, #Thriller, #Thrillers, #Mystery & Thrillers

Noble Intentions: Season Three (44 page)

The other woman appeared a moment
later. He remembered her name was Hannah. She took the Sig from his hand,
stepped back and aimed it at the other guy.

“I’m from West Virginia, asshole.
One move and I’ll make your face look like your right arm.”

Bear smiled, then closed his eyes.

 

CHAPTER 70

 

Jack stood on the packed sand close
to where the small waves gently lapped onto shore. A dozen yards away Leon
stepped out of the small boat he had just run ashore. Leon looked toward Jack
and nodded. Both men remained motionless for a few seconds. On the beach, in
front of the boat were several bags. Some filled with clothes, Jack presumed.
Others, perhaps, with cash. He glanced out, across the sea, and saw the large
boat that Leon had been ferrying the items to.

“Where’re you headed?”

“Away.”

“Why?”

Leon said nothing.

“Must be running from something.”

Leon shook his head. “I don’t run
from anything or anyone. Unlike you.”

The shot was not lost on Jack. He
ignored it, though. “Why’d you do this?”

“Do what?”

“Get involved with this scheme
Dottie was involved in.”

Leon took a few steps forward.

Jack aimed his pistol at the man.
“That’s close enough.”

“You screwed her life up, Jack.”

“How so?”

“That crap you pulled in Monte
Carlo with Thornton.”

“He had it coming.”

“Not saying I disagree.”

“So how did that mess up her life?”

“She didn’t run from Thornton
because of that, Jack. He kicked her out. It cost him over a million in legal
fees and bribes. He blamed it on you, and in turn, her. That house, it’s not
hers. It’s mine. A family home. She didn’t have any money to speak of. Her
retirement was screwed. See, she thought she had it made with Thornton. Sure,
she had to take her lumps now and then, but to Dottie, those lumps came with
the territory no matter what she did. How else would she have risen through the
intelligence ranks like she did?”

“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?”

“Son of a bitch 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 shit 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.

 

CHAPTER 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?”

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