Shadow Zone (26 page)

“He’s right, Kirov,” Hannah said as she gazed at Charlie, who was standing leaning against the deck rail several yards away. He hadn’t spoken a word since they’d left Ireland two hours ago. “Everything has changed for him. At first, I was having problems with him. He’s definitely a diamond in the rough. But he was trying so hard, and you could see how much he loved his father.”

“Yes,” Kirov said. “And his father loved him. After all the years apart, they’d found something good. They wanted to have a chance at a decent future that would keep them together.” His lips twisted. “That made it easy for me.”

Hannah glanced at Kirov. His expression was as somber as his tone. “I believe I detect a hint of Russian melancholy. Made what easy?”

“Manipulating Driscoll to do what I needed.” His lips tightened. “I liked Driscoll, Hannah. I liked his humor and his cleverness and the way he—Shit. It didn’t have to be this way. I thought Driscoll’s plan had a good chance of succeeding, but I should have dug deeper, maybe found a backup that would have—”

“Stop right there,” Hannah said. “Your men might have treated you like a god when you commanded that sub, but you are
not
Superman. Driscoll’s plan was brilliant and should have been as safe as any plan could be. There was nothing that you could have done to make it safer unless you’d hired an army battalion to run interference for him.”

He didn’t answer. His eyes were still fixed on Charlie.

She wasn’t getting through to him.

She grabbed his arm and whirled him to face her. “Listen, I know what a hang-up you have about responsibility, but it’s time you got over it. You weren’t responsible for the death of your wife or your crew all those years ago. You were a victim. You’re intelligent. You know that’s true. Unless you live in a vacuum and don’t make any move at all, there’s always going to be a reaction to any action you take. You offered Driscoll exactly what he wanted, and you had already delivered. He was a professional, and he wanted this chance. He was excited about it. He was proud of his talent and was liking showing it off to Charlie.” She paused. “It all went wrong. I’m sorry and angry too. But, dammit, stop being angry with yourself and focus on the people who killed him.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, then turned to look at her. “Are you finished?”

“For the moment.”

He smiled faintly. “Good. I don’t know how much more I could take. No sympathy, no soppy assurances of understanding. Just a sharp slap to bring me back to my senses. There’s no one like you, Hannah.”

“A circumstance for which many people are very grateful.”

“Only if they’re fools.” He reached out and took her hand. “I’m not a fool, Hannah.”

His grasp was strong and warm. No sexuality. Comfort, camaraderie, a rock to cling to in the darkness. She wanted to keep on holding it.

“You’re not backing away from me,” Kirov said.

“Because you’re not a fool,” she said. “And you’re not trying to seduce me.”

He chuckled. “Wrong time. Wrong place. Besides, I told you it was in your court. I’ll just make myself available for any erotic game you want to play.” As he felt her sudden tension, his hand tightened on hers. “It’s okay, it’s fine. We can wait,” he said quietly. “We’ll take this. It’s good too. Right?”

Yes, it was okay, Hannah thought. The tentative bond that they’d formed during the weeks since they’d met had been stretched taut, but was still in place. They were learning more about each other every day, and that was causing tremors in the relationship. But then nothing stayed the same. As she’d told him, unless you lived in a vacuum, there was always action and reaction. She didn’t want to live in a vacuum.

And she didn’t want to let go of his hand.

She looked away. “Yes, we’ll take this, Kirov.”

CHAPTER
13

It was cold on this damn boat, Eugenia thought as she looked out at the moon-dappled water. She had never liked boats. They were too slow for her, and she’d never liked the idea of the only escape being that icy sea. She didn’t know how Kirov had stood it on his sub all those years. But then she and Kirov were different in as many ways as they were alike.

Her glance shifted to Kirov and Hannah across the deck. Kirov wasn’t as grim as he’d been when he’d first boarded the boat.

Hannah’s doing?

Probably. Kirov could be moody, and Hannah wouldn’t put up with it. Good for her. Eugenia believed that the only way to keep from plummeting was to soar and look to the sky. If you kept busy and positive, no one could take you down.

Her glance moved to Charlie, standing alone at the rail. He was hurting and couldn’t see anything but his own pain. If left alone, he’d either spiral into nothingness or get himself killed. Pity. He had potential.

Oh, what the hell. She needed a project.

She jumped to her feet and strode over to where Charlie stood. “We’ll be arriving in another hour.” She leaned her elbows on the rail. “I’ll be glad to get off this junk heap. Seven hours is too long.”

Charlie didn’t answer.

“How about you?”

“I don’t care,” Charlie said dully. “I haven’t paid much attention.”

“That’s right. You’re too busy hulking here feeling sorry for yourself.”

He stiffened with shock. “Go to hell.”

“Ah, a response. Maybe you’re alive after all. I wasn’t sure. You’re acting more like a zombie.”

“I want to be alone.”

“You’ve been alone. That’s over now. It’s time to come back and join the war.”

He scowled. “I’ll join the war as soon as you show me Anna Devareau and Gadaire.”

“That’s right, you only act if the situation is set up for you. That’s what your father did, didn’t he? He called the shots and made everything neat and tidy for you. Then you ambled in and helped out.”

“Shut up.”

“And that’s what you still want to do. You’ll lean on Kirov and the rest of us, then try to step in and get your revenge.”

Charlie’s hands fell on her shoulders. “Shut up.”

“Do you think that’s what your father would want you to do? Maybe so. He was very protective of his little boy.” She paused. “But do you think that he’d be proud of you? I don’t think so.”

“He was proud of me. He told me so.”

“He was proud of the fact that you’d kept out of jail. He was proud of the fact that you’d turned into a good-looking kid with a fair amount of intelligence and wasn’t completely obnoxious. Other than that, what have you done to make him proud?”

Charlie’s hand tightened on her shoulders with bruising force. “Why are you saying this?” he asked hoarsely.

“I liked your father. He had style and wit. He was a complete person.” She paused. “You, on the other hand, are a confused collection of bits and pieces. It’s a wonder he bothered with you.” She moved her shoulders. “It’s a wonder I’m bothering with you. You’re hurting me. If you don’t let me go in three seconds, I’m going to break at least two bones in your rib cage. Then I’ll start on mutilating your penis. You know I can do it.”

“Yes.” His gaze was suddenly searching her face. “But why would you want to? If I’m such a piece of crap, why would you bother?”

“Do we have a breakthrough?” She shrugged off his hold and took a step backwards. “Are you thinking about something besides yourself?”

He slowly shook his head. “Hell, no, I’m thinking about my dick. That’s damn important to me.”

She smiled. “Speaks the universal man.”

“Why are you being such a bitch to me?”

“I told you, I liked your father.” She made a face. “And I have to admit, I may be close to liking you, Charlie.”

“So that’s a reason to take a knife to me?”

“It’s my way. Cut, clean, and cauterize.” She looked up at him. “And then start over with a clean slate. Are you ready to listen to me?”

“Do I have a choice and still keep my dick?” he asked ruefully.

“You’ll have to discover that for yourself.” Her smile faded. “I think you’re torn with guilt about your father’s death. For playing the obedient son when you know you should have taken matters into your own hands and stayed to help him. Is that true?”

Charlie’s eyes closed with pain. “God, yes.”

“Then you made a mistake, and it’s one you can’t take back. The only thing you can do is try to make the best of it. You’re not going to do that by wringing your hands and brooding. But you could make Driscoll’s death mean something.”

When his eyes opened, they were glittering with moisture. “It did mean something. He had more guts than I’ll ever have.”

“You haven’t been tested. Not really. But life isn’t about dying well, it’s about living well. Your father was experienced enough to know that. What kind of man do you want to be, Charlie? Would you like to be like your father?”

Charlie hesitated. “I don’t know. He was smart and funny and a real good guy. I loved him. Could I be like him? I don’t think so. I get too mad. I want to swing out. He was smooth as glass, and I’m just a rough kid from the streets.”

“There’s such a thing as change and growth.” She let the idea sink in. “Anything’s possible if you want it bad enough. Driscoll loved you, and the best gift you could give him would be to not go back to being what you were when the two of you came together. I think your dad would have wanted you to be all you could be. But it doesn’t matter a damn what anyone wants unless it’s what you want.”

He was silent a moment. “How would I do it?”

“I can start you out. I’ve led a far rougher life than you have, Charlie. I’ve had to pull myself up out of the mire, but I know how to negotiate that mire. First, since I know you’re not going to be able to concentrate on anything until you make Gadaire pay for your father’s death, I can teach you how to do that with lethal efficiency. You’re good for an amateur, but a professional could put you down in a heartbeat.” She paused. “If you hadn’t lost your gun when you went over that embankment, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Everything hinged on that. A principal rule is always to protect your weapons.”

He slowly nodded. “I can see that.”

“If you survive Gadaire, and I find you teachable, I may take you back to New York with me, and we’ll see if we can file off some of those other rough edges. I often deal with Fortune 500 companies and countries who want their business. I know that jungle too.”

“I don’t care about that right now,” he said impatiently. “Gadaire. I want to learn how to kill him and the bitch.”

“Understandable.” She turned away. “But I’ll continue teaching you only as long as you do everything I say. The minute you explode or go off on your own, it’s over. Your time for being immature ended when Driscoll died. I won’t put up with juvenile displays.” She met his gaze. “Think about it.”

“I don’t have to think about it,” he said quietly. “I’ll do whatever I have to do. When do we start?”

She shrugged. “We’re on a job. I’ll have to find the time.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned. “I want to—” He stopped. “Whatever you say.”

“Yes, it is.” She smiled faintly as she turned away. “And that particular lesson will take you far.”

Weston Executive Airport
Dublin, Ireland
7:30
A.M.

Gadaire stepped off his private jet and glared at the man waiting in the hangar. It was Charles Ames, his director of security. The bastard had ushered him safely through some of the most dangerous countries on earth, yet he hadn’t even been able to protect an office surrounded by a large security force.

“You know I don’t tolerate failure, Ames,” he said as the flight crew unloaded his luggage.

“Neither do I.”

“Then how in the hell did this happen?”

Ames didn’t speak for a moment, then said reluctantly, “They found the one weak link in our defenses. The service company needs immediate access in case the refrigeration unit fails. By posing as employees of that company, they bypassed all the safeguards we have in place. When your unit failed, it basically told us to roll out the red carpet for them.”

“It’s only because of Anna that we retrieved my merchandise. You should be feeling pretty damn stupid about that.”

He shrugged. “We screwed up. It won’t happen again.”

Not if I kick your sorry ass to the curb, Gadaire thought. Instead, he merely nodded. “I’m more concerned about what happened at the college. Not only did Dr. Lampman lose all of the working samples I gave him, he lost many of his notes. I thought you said things were under control there.”

“Our man on campus was injected with a quick-acting sedative. He gave us a good physical description of the thief, but we don’t have much to go on yet.”

“Unbelievable.” Gadaire turned toward him. “I need two things from you. I need my property back, and I need to know who did this to me. It has to be the same people who arranged to hit me at both sites. Do we have any leads?”

“Yes, sir. We have a description of the man who stole the TK44 from Dr. Lampman. It was the same man who supposedly blundered into Lampman’s workroom a few days ago. He was with a woman that time. Lampman’s tail didn’t get a photo, but we sent a sketch artist to work with him when the actual theft happened.” He pulled out two charcoal sketches from his briefcase. “We’re not sure about the identity of the man yet, but we think he’s Nicholas Kirov, Russian submarine commander, and the same man who interfered with our dealings with Samuel Debney in Venice. We convinced Debney to tell us his name, but that’s all he knew about him. Kirov’s been very hard to trace. This time the only break we had was that he was recently linked with the woman in question.” He handed him the other sketch. “Positive ID on her. Hannah Bryson. You may have heard of her.”

“Oh, yes. I recently took something very precious away from her. Now she’s trying to punish me?” He gazed down at the sketch. “It seems the bitch didn’t like being stung. I wonder how she’ll like what I’ll do to her when I catch up with her.” He handed the sketch back to Ames. “I want a complete report on both of them on my desk by the time I get home. Friends, family, business associates. Get me a telephone number for both of them.”

“Bryson won’t be hard, but Kirov . . . I believe he worked with the CIA at one time, and he covers his tracks.”