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Authors: Wendy Rosnau

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BOOK: Perfect Assassin
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Merrick ushered Sarah into the restaurant. “My phone is on twenty-four hours a day. If someone needs to reach me, they will.”

“It was good of you to ask me out to dinner. And such a nice place, too.”

Merrick finished seating Sarah in the chair at the Grover, then took the chair across from her. The upscale restaurant was quiet, and that’s why he’d picked it. Sarah had dressed for the occasion and Merrick couldn’t deny that the woman seated across from him was pretty. He’d known her for years standing behind the florist counter, but tonight she looked different. She was an attractive woman, and he wondered how he had missed that fact all these years.

A good sign, he told himself. Maybe he was finally able to see the beauty in other women without thinking of Johanna and making comparisons. Still, he felt a bit awkward tonight. He hadn’t actually taken a woman to dinner in fifteen years.

“I’ve never been here,” she said, looking around. “I know that sounds awful. I’ve lived in Washington all my life, and I’ve visited very few restaurants.”

“I haven’t been out much myself,” Merrick admitted. “I don’t count the fast-food places, of course. I don’t cook much anymore. Johanna and I used to cook toge—”

He stopped himself. He’d planned to avoid speaking of her tonight. They hadn’t been seated five minutes and here he was mentioning her name.

“I don’t mind, you know.”

“Mind?”

“If you speak of your wife. She was part of your life, Adolf. She was taken away from you suddenly. It would be foolish to expect that you wouldn’t speak of her.”

He smiled at her, then picked up the menu.

“Actually, I thought we might talk about her.”

Merrick had just opened the menu, and now he looked over the top of it. “Excuse me?”

She glanced away, looked around the tables surrounding them. He realized that she was checking to see how much privacy they had. He had purposely asked to be seated in an intimate cove.

“You see, Adolf, I think it would be good to talk about the past. Maybe it would help.”

“Help in what way, Sarah? Get over her?”

“No. It would help if you could share your pain, and maybe in doing so, I could help you make peace with yourself. I’ve done some reading about family grief since my mother passed away a few years ago. We were very close. I know it’s not the same thing, but I had issues to come to terms with. I blamed my mother for being too protective. For not pushing me out of the nest years ago. Then she became ill, and I felt guilty that I never saw the signs until it was too late. I thought that—”

“You could have prevented her death.”

“Yes. I don’t know the details of Johanna’s death, but I get the feeling that you have an enormous amount of guilt. As if you could have prevented her death, as well. That’s why you can’t let go of the pain.”

Merrick sat back and studied Sarah’s simple beauty. Her eyes were full of love for him and he suddenly realized that it had been there for a long time. How had he been so blind all these years?

“You’re a very smart woman,” he said, “and I’m humbled by the fact that you have given me and my situation so much thought.”

“Well, you know me. I don’t have much going on in my life. When I pray for release from my own guilt, Adolf, I also pray for yours.”

They studied each other for a moment, then the menu. The waitress came and took their order, and over dinner Adolf Merrick opened his heart and his soul to Sarah Finny. He never went into his dangerous work, except to say that it was government-related. He didn’t speak of Johanna being kidnapped, or admit that she’d been a casualty in one of the Chameleon’s games, or tell how she’d died. Just the memory of seeing Johanna tied to that bed, her body wrapped in C4 explosives, to this day made him violently ill. But he did tell her that it was because of his job that Johanna had lost her life, and that…yes, he was swimming in guilt.

After dinner, Merrick reached for her hand and squeezed it. Sarah squeezed back.

It was while they were about to leave the restaurant that his phone rang. It was the agency hotline calling to tell him that one of their guards had been found strangled to death. That he’d been found in Otto Breit’s holding cell, and that Breit had escaped.

Chapter 14

H
ours later Jacy lay on his back in bed, Pris curled up beside him. “Are you cold?”

“How could I be cold? You warmed me inside and out.”

“The shower did the trick, then?”


Da,
the shower was a good beginning.”

“Tired?”

“A little.”

“Then go to sleep. We’ll talk later.”

“Maybe we should talk now. Tell me about the Onyxx Agency and what they do. You’re a good guy,
ja
?”

The way she said it, the catch in her voice, told him she was still struggling with all that had been dumped on her in the past few hours.

She looked up at him, and he gave her a half smile. Then he said, “Onyxx is a specialized division of NSA Intelligence. The agents are picked according to their skills.”

“And what kind of skills were you picked for?”

“In the beginning I don’t think I had any except for the fact that I’d cheated death more times than I can count. Frankly, I think Merrick simply liked my bad-ass attitude. I insulted him the first time we met. I went in with dirty hands. I did some things I’m not too proud of. More since. But in this business things are not always black and white.”

“And you’ve killed people?”

“Yes. It comes with the territory. I knew that going in. But I killed a man once before I joined Onyxx. It was in self-defense, but he died nonetheless.”

“And you’ve been able to live with it?”

He caught the catch in her throat when she asked the question.

“Your father tricked you into killing those men, Pris. You can’t be blamed for believing in a cause he convinced you was sanctioned. You trusted him and his judgment. He knew you would. He made sure of it before he asked you to replace him. You never would have done it if he hadn’t told you all those lies.”

“I would never have believed any of this if I hadn’t heard my mother’s voice on the phone. Heard her tell me it was my father who shot her. A part of me doesn’t want to believe it. Even after I read that file, I thought maybe—”

Jacy cut her off. “He knew what he was doing. He believed she had betrayed him and given him up to Bjorn Odell and Nadja Stefn.”

“My aunt?”

“She works for another intelligence agency.”

“No. She’s in international real estate.”

“That was a cover. She’s worked for Euro-Quest for six years.”

“Quest?”

“It’s like Onyxx. Your mother agreed to go to that cabin in the mountains knowing her life was at risk. She wore a bulletproof vest, but it was still dangerous. She did it because she knew it was the right thing to do. Your father had taken you from Groffen, along with Bjorn and Nadja’s daughter Alzbet.”

“Daughter? Alzbet is Nadja’s daughter?”

“Yes. And Bjorn is her father.”

“This just keeps getting more and more complicated.”

“They’re all safe now. Nadja and Alzbet are with your mother.” He curled his arm around her and pulled her close. He kissed her forehead.

She sat up, the blanket falling away from her naked body. She was so damn beautiful. So innocent and vulnerable. How in the hell could Holic have consciously turned his daughter into an assassin? The man truly had no soul.

“Do you know where the kill-file is?”

“I know who has it.”

“Otto Breit?”

“How do you know that?”

“I put two and two together. After I heard you say the name Otto I had Pierce do some checking. We picked him up but he’s not talking. Not yet anyway. Tell me about him.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What is he to you?” Jacy couldn’t keep the possessive tone from creeping into his voice.

“I’ve known Otto for a long time, since I was a very young girl. His father Jakob was a friend of my father’s. When Jakob flew me off Glass Mountain, he took me to Otto. I’ve lived with him since.”

Jacy’s face must have revealed his thoughts. She shook her head, then said, “Not like that. He’s like a brother to me, even though…”

“Even though, what?”

“I know Otto cares for me. Would like more, but he’s too old, and—”

“How old?”

“Thirty.”

Jacy looked away, knowing he was coming up on that number fast. He decided not to continue to talk about Otto. The man wasn’t for her, but maybe there was someone she was close to back home, and if there was, it might be for the best.

He’d never kidded himself about what they’d shared. They were from two different worlds, and he wasn’t going to get caught up into thinking that he could ever give her what she needed in the future. Montana was where he belonged. After this was over, he wouldn’t go back to Onyxx. He was done with that.

What he wanted for Pris was for her to get out of this mess and move on. Merrick could do that for her if he wanted to. Hell, his boss had been able to erase Jacy’s entire criminal record. All he’d had to do was say yes to seven years at Onyxx and it had been done.

He would allow himself to feel possessive of her, and a whole lot more, but he would let her go when the time came. Peace of mind would come in knowing that she could start over, and in time she would forget all the ugliness surrounding her father. She was young. She would heal and grow stronger, and eventually be happy again.

He would settle for nothing less.

Matwau started barking just after midnight. It woke Jacy up and he rose quietly and pulled on his jeans. He glanced at Pris, she was deep in sleep—exhausted from their lovemaking.

He left her and closed his bedroom door behind him. In the hall, he retrieved the .38 that he kept in the linen closet under the clean sheets and crept into the living room, his steps Indian-quiet in the darkness.

He slipped on his coat, eased open the outside door and stepped onto the deck. It was still dark, a few hours before dawn. The sky was overcast, the surrounding trees hanging heavy with yesterday’s snow.

Matwau bolted off the deck and started barking again. Jacy touched the safety off his gun and flattened himself against the hewn logs.

“Jacy, I know you’re there. Call off the dog before he takes my leg off.”

Jacy breathed, then lowered his gun. “Pierce.”

“Call the dog off.”

“Matwau, come.”

The wolf-dog was back on the deck within seconds, and then Pierce Fourtier turned on a flashlight and started up the path to the cabin.

He said, “I parked down the road. I wasn’t sure you’d be happy to see me.”

“I’m not. You were supposed to stay in Washington. I expected a call from you or Merrick before noon.”

“You got me worried. It’s cold as hell out here,” he said as he walked up the steps. He angled the flashlight in Jacy’s face. “You look all right. A little thinner. It’s good to see you on your feet,
mon ami.

“Okay, so it’s good to see you, too.”

“I’ve been on the move all night to get here.”

Jacy hesitated, then turned and opened the door and stepped inside. Matwau followed, and then Pierce.

Jacy flipped on a light switch that lit up the living room, casting a glow into the kitchen. He shed his coat and tossed it on the coat tree again.

Naked from the waist up, he turned and asked, “You talk to Merrick about her? Is that why you’re here? To give me the bad news in person?”

Pierce pulled off his coat and stuck his flashlight in the pocket. He glanced at the four-legged animal that stood two feet away, and Jacy watched his friend’s eyes widen.

“Hell, that’s no dog.”

“Because he comes from two worlds?” Jacy asked. “Does it make me any less a man because I do, too?”

“You know what I meant.”

Jacy gave a nonchalant nod. “He’s like me, an ornery sonofabitch when he’s crossed. So out with it. What did Merrick say?”

“Nothing yet. I offered him the idea about the kill-file. You ask her about that?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Otto Breit has it.”

“That’s good news. We’ve got him locked up. Now if we could just get him to talk.”

Jacy eyed his friend. He could see the wheels turning inside Pierce’s crafty mind. He said out loud what he knew Pierce was thinking. “You think she could be the trump card. Convince Otto to talk.”

“How well does she know him? Would it work?”

“It might. But I’m not going to let her do it without some guarantee she’ll be rewarded for it.”

“Isn’t that her decision?”

Jacy didn’t answer.

“I can take her in if it would make things easier for you.”

“I don’t care about making things easier for me. She’s the one I’m worried about. When she flies to D.C., I’ll be with her.”

“You’re not only ornery, you’re a stubborn sonofabitch, too.”

“That’s why Merrick muscled me into the agency years ago. We all have a gift, remember? He was looking for all the right puzzle pieces when he put the rat fighters together. My gift was that I never back down no matter what the odds. Like it or not, I’m in this one to the end. If I hand her over, the agency will lock her up in the cell next to Holic and throw away the key. She’s nineteen. She hasn’t started to live yet.”

“A nineteen-year-old who can shoot an Austrian Steyr as good as her old man. Perfection has replaced perfection. That’s what Holic told Merrick.”

“I know what the hell she is. And what she isn’t. Holic no longer controls her thoughts or her actions.”

“She’s killed two agents. One of them was ours.”

“I know that.”

“And you told me she came here to kill you.”

“Because she thought her mother was dead and that I was as much to blame as Bjorn. But as you can see, I’m not dead.”

“What’s with the duct tape?”

Jacy’s jaw clenched. “A new fashion statement here in Montana. Like it?”

He headed into the living room, picked up the iron poker and stirred the hot coals in the fireplace.

“She tried something, didn’t she? She tried to kill you.”

“Before she made the phone call to her mother we had a little scuffle. But I handled it. She won’t do anything like that again.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then you trust her?”

Jacy looked over his shoulder. “Trust is a delicate matter, but yes, I trust her.”

“And me? I haven’t betrayed you, Jacy. You can still trust me. I’m worried about your choices in this situation, but I haven’t sold you out. What I came here for was—”

“To change my mind. Not happening.”

“If I move, is this damn animal going to castrate me?”

“No. He’s keeping an eye on you because he can hear in my voice that I’m not happy with you right now, but he won’t do anything unless I tell him to.”

“That’s comforting.” Pierce slowly took a seat on a chair near the fireplace. Matwau followed and sat down on his haunches a few feet away to watch his every move. Pierce asked, “Where is she?”

“Asleep. And, no, I’m not going to wake her. She’s exhausted. She’s had a helluva day.”

“Damn possessive, aren’t you?”

“I won’t deny it. She needs someone to stand beside her right now.”

“And you’ve elected yourself that someone.”

“I won’t deny that either.”

Jacy tossed a log into the fire. Taking a seat on the end of the couch, he said, “Holic lied to her. She’s been a pawn in his game since he took her with him that night he left Groffen and headed for Glass Mountain. Actually, before that. He bought her a gun when she was ten and put her on a firing range. He may be in an iron cell, but he’s still controlling things from the inside.”

“I agree. And since we learned the Chameleon is still alive he’s probably still on his payroll.”

“I still don’t understand that. How can the Chameleon still be alive?”

“The DNA work is complete. The body we have has been positively identified as Pavvo Creon.”

“Creon’s been dead for years.”

“That’s what we thought. Looks like we were wrong. Do you have any coffee? I’ve had a chill in my bones since I left D.C.”

“It’s that thin Southern skin of yours,” Jacy remarked.

It was while Jacy was making coffee that Pierce got a phone call from Merrick.

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