by Jon F. Merz
He walked back inside and sighed heavily. He put the soup on the counter and Gia emerged from the bedroom. Frank put a finger to his lips and she nodded. Frank looked down at the floor and frowned. Glass was everywhere. He needed a broom and dustpan.
He heard a door slam.
Outside his apartment.
He frowned and walked to his front door. He opened his door and Mrs. Morello's door opened at the same time.
Frank smiled. "Sorry, I thought I heard a door slam shut."
"Oh that was mine, Frank."
"Company?"
"Oh no, I was just talking to that nice young boy who came to see you."
Frank smiled. "Yeah?"
"He mentioned he'd brought you some soup for your headache. I told him about the lasagna I baked you last night."
"That's nice," said Frank.
"Such a nice boy that one."
"Yeah, he's a peach."
"Too bad he didn't bring enough soup for your friend, though, huh?"
Frank's heart dropped. "Excuse me?"
"The soup he brought over. I mentioned you had a friend in there and that a small container probably wasn't enough for the both of you."
Frank's mouth went dry. "What did he say?"
"Well, he got a funny look on his face and then just took off running down the stairs. He didn't even say good-bye or anything. Kind of rude, actually, now that I think about it."
"I gotta go Mrs. Morello." Frank slammed his door and turned to face Gia.
Her face clouded. "What's wrong?"
"Get your stuff. Now. We've got to leave right away."
"What's going on?"
"I think," said Frank, "that we just got found out."
Chapter Seven
"It's a lot of latex."
Stahl nodded. "I'll need every bit of it if I'm going to pull this job off." And he'd need some divine intervention to get through it all alive, he thought.
"You could have gone to the stores." Karen took a sip of her coffee. "Boston's got a few places that could set you up fairly well."
"I don't like stores," said Stahl. "The less time I spend in them, the better. All that video surveillance makes me nervous. Besides, I don't want my purchases tracked."
A crease formed on Karen's forehead. "So, use cash." She sighed. "Are you being followed?"
"I don't know," said Stahl. He watched the crease in her forehead deepen. "I have to assume at all times that I'm known and that there are people after me."
"The only way to stay alive, I know. I remember the mantra." Karen glanced around the coffeehouse. A few students loitered in one corner, dragging out intellectual conversation over the dregs of coffee beans. "We shouldn't even be out in public, then. If you're spotted and someone connects you to me-"
Stahl grabbed her hand. "Forget it. I've been clean so far. My face doesn't show up on anyone's hit list, I'm sure of it."
"What about the plastic surgeons who gave you the reconstructive surgery?"
Stahl took a sip of his jasmine tea. The heady aroma opened his nasal passages. "They aren't a factor anymore."
Karen blanched and pulled her hand away. "YouÉeliminated them?"
Stahl cocked an eyebrow. Why was she reacting like this? "You shouldn't be surprised. After all, we worked together plenty of times. You know the importance of taking precautions."
"It's been a long time since those yearsÉErnst. I have a career now. I'm a different woman."
"You're still as lovely as you ever were," said Stahl.
She frowned. "Empty compliments don't become you, Ernst. Besides, I was never good enough for you."
"I recall a few times you were."
"Meaningless sex." Karen shook her head. "I wanted more than that. I wanted you. I wanted us."
Stahl sipped his tea. "We worked together. No involvement, remember?"
"And the sex?"
"Like you said: meaningless. A means to relax and escape the stress of the assignments we worked on. Nothing more."
She sighed. "I know it. Dammit. You'd think fifteen years would ease the heartache." She looked at him. "You're still a handsome man. The surgeons were real artists. A shame you had to go and end their careers."
Stahl shrugged. "The mantra. It has to be obeyed at all times."
Karen didn't look convinced. "Did the precautions work?"
"No." Stahl finished his tea. "They found me anyway."
"The police?"
He grinned. He should have been so lucky. "No. Our former employer."
"And now you're here."
He leaned forward, stared into her eyes. "I'm here because I need your help."
"They didn't give you a contact?"
"Of course they did. But I don't want to use them yet. Surely you can understand my desire to make as few waves as possible with this."
Karen sniffed. "You're making plenty right now. My new life is something I take pretty damned seriously. I don't have much time to run errands anymore."
"Just do me this one favor and I'll be out of your life. I promise."
She eyed him. He could see the indecision shooting back and forth behind her eyes. On one hand he knew she was pissed at him for the way he'd kept her forever at the end of a very long arm. But on the other hand, he knew she remembered those few times when they'd melted the sheets together.
He'd meant it when he'd told her she was still beautiful. And a good part of him regretted never allowing their horizontal maneuverings to develop into a full-blown romance. She would have made a much better wife than the bitch he'd ended up with.
But if he hadn't married her, then Alois might never have been born. And Alois was as great a son as any man could ever hope for.
Still, he would have had children with Karen, wouldn't he?
He shrugged once. It wouldn't have been Alois.
Alois.
"You need anything else?"
He snapped back to reality. "The assorted other ingredients that go along with it. I've got a list if you want it."
She smiled. "I can't believe I'm going to do this for you."
"Call it a favor for an old friend?"
"How many women have top-notch killers as old friends?"
"Hopefully not many," said Stahl with a grin. "Otherwise I'll lose my uniqueness."
"I doubt that. You're a one-of-a-kind."
Stahl let a moment pass while he used his stirrer to draw useless designs on the brown napkin in front of him. "So what about you? What happened after everything went to shit in Madrid?"
"I got out." She stared out of the window for a long minute before looking at him again. When she did, her eyes seemed moist. "Barely. But I got out."
"You used the evac route we'd mapped out?"
Karen shook her head. "No. I didn't want to trust it. It would have been the easiest thing to do to fall back on it. But I couldn't take the chance it was still sound."
"You had a backup?"
"I always have a backup, Ernst. It's how we were taught."
"You didn't tell me."
She smiled. "That's right. I didn't."
"Why not?"
"Why not? Like you just said, we worked together. As much as I wanted it, your disdain for me made me angry. There was no way I was going to tell you about an out I had. Not if I wasn't good enough to be with."
Stahl nodded. He couldn't fault her on it. He'd made his decision not to get involved with her beyond sex and he'd paid the price. Almost with his life. He could hear the explosions and bullets ripping shards of plaster around his head as he'd ducked and run from the assault team that had cornered him.
"What about papers?"
"They cost me a fortune, but I got them. Remember the guy we used to use in Belgium?"
"The Donkey?"
"Uh huh."
"He's still the best," said Stahl.
"He was the best," said Karen.
"Dead?"
"Yeah."
"How?"
Karen looked at him and f
or a minute Stahl didn't understand. When she smiled, it finally dawned on him. "Good thing I had another source for paperwork. Losing the Donkey is a serious blow."
"Like you said, I didn't want to leave any traces behind."
"He was your cousin."
Karen shrugged. "He was my cousin only through marriage. It's not like he was a blood relation."
"I forgot how cold you could be."
"What-my innocent professor demeanor fooled you? Of all people? I'm honored by your honesty."
"Is it all an act?"
"Does it matter?"
"It might."
"Stop bullshitting me. I don't have time for stupid childish games. We're older now. My heart's been strung out so many times I feel like wash left dangling in the wind."
Stahl took her hand again. "What if I told you I wasn't playing games?"
"I'd still be suspicious."
He laughed. "Of course you would." He pulled back and felt the wooden seat press into his spine. "Still have that scar?"
She looked away. "What scar?"
"The one you spent twenty minutes describing the first time we made love."
"So, it was making love now, was it?"
"What?"
"You really haven't changed, have you?"
"What did I say?"
"Ten minutes ago you were insisting that we had sex for the good of our working relationship. To ease the stress, remember? And now you're saying we made love."
"Yeah-"
"Well, which is it? In your mind, it only seemed that we were fucking, remember? There was no love involved, so you said. And yet now you want to rephrase it on me? Bullshit."
Stahl sighed. "I'm sorry." He picked up his empty cup and tried to suck some of the moisture out.
"It's empty, Ernst."
He set the cup down. "I didn't mean it to be an empty sentiment, Karen."
"I meant the cup, silly."
He looked down. "Oh. Right."
"You toyed with me back then, you know that?"
"Maybe I was confused, too."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Why not? It's possible, isn't it?"
"It's possible for someone else. Not you. Not the man the world used call the Panther. You never were unsure of what to do. You always had everything just the way you wanted it. All your successes, all those missions, all those yearsÉyou never made a mistake."
"Sometimes," said Stahl slowly, "I'm not so sure about that."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that maybe, given the chance to do it all over again, given a lot of things, that maybe I wouldn't have acted like that. Maybe there would have been a you and me."
"You know what I think?"
"What?"
"Maybe's just a five-letter word for stupid coward."
Stahl chuckled. "You're probably right."
"I'm definitely right." She stood up and gathered her coat. Stahl stood and tried to help her ease into it, but she shrugged him off. "No need for the chivalrous approach."
He slid a five-dollar bill on the table as a tip and gestured toward the door. Karen walked ahead of him.
He studied her from behind. The way she moved, the way she presented herself. It had all changed. But underneath the change, the remnants of her former self still lurked. He could sense it.
And as much as she seemed upset with his sudden reappearance in her life, he knew there was another part of her that felt the former thrills and adrenaline seeping back into her blood.
Outside a fresh wind whipped up sand into their faces, stinging skin. Stahl brought his arm up covering them both with it and this time she didn't stop him.
"You have the list with you?"
He reached into his coat and brought it out. She didn't look at it, only made it vanish inside the folds of her own coat. "How do I reach you?"
"You don't."
"I have to let you know somehow."
"What's your phone number?"
She smiled. "You'd better not try this approach with any other women. It wouldn't work worth a damn. It's a new century, after all."
"Will it work with you?"
She looked at him again for a long moment. "Stranger things have happened, Ernst."
She gave him the number.
Chapter Eight
Frank stopped just short of spilling them both out the front door onto the street. He wanted to get the hell away from the building as soon as possible. But he couldn't be stupid about it.
Did Bobby know about Gia?
Frank frowned. He couldn't risk it. He had to assume that the punk knew. And that meant trouble.
He peered through the thin yellowed lace curtain, surveying the scene outside. Behind him, Gia's breathing sounded loud in the quiet hallway, hot on the back of his neck. He could feel her body pressing close into him, charging the air full of electricity.
Frank reminded himself that she was dangerous voltage.
He drew his gun and checked to make sure the hammer was still back and the safety on. They couldn't just run out into the street and make for his car. It would look too suspicious.
They had to appear normal. Composed. Like two friends going out for a simple stroll.
Frank felt for the doorknob. "Time to go."
Gia gripped his arm.
"Frank."
He turned. "Yeah?"
"You sure this kid could put two and two together like this? You sure you aren't overreacting?"
"You wanna wait around and find out - be my guest. I don't intend to stay here any longer, though. Now, are you with me or not?"
She frowned. "In over my head again - just like old times, huh?"
"You tell me. Apparently, the woman I dated wasn't who I thought she was. Now, come on."
He pulled the heavy door in toward them. Cold air rushed in, scattering small pieces of paper on the hall floor. Frank paused by the doorjamb and scanned the street. He couldn't see anything suspicious. The wind bit into his face, making his eyes tear up briefly. He blinked rapidly, flushing them clear.
He stepped down on to the sidewalk.
Gia came out behind him.
Frank's blue Oldsmobile sat forty feet down the street. Parking in the North End, even with a Resident Permit Parking Only sticker, was still tough on a good day.
He took another step, keeping his right arm down by his side, hand wrapped around the butt of his pistol.
They'll wait, he decided. If there's a hit team already in place, they'll wait until we get clear of the door. When we can't dive back in for safety. Right about when we're halfway to my car. Halfway from the doorway.
His eyes scanned the doorways surrounding them. He checked the rooftops. He tried to see around corners.
Nothing.
Gia stayed close.
Frank felt like a Secret Service agent protecting the President. He wondered if he'd take a bullet for Gia. He wondered if all the grief she'd put him through in the past was worth dying for.
Moe's grizzled voice cut into his thoughts. Now ain't the time, kid.
Twenty feet from his Oldsmobile, all hell broke loose.
Albeit quietly.
The first soundless bullet smacked into the bricks closest to Frank's face, biting off a shard of masonry that nicked his cheek. Another round followed a nanosecond later, but Frank was already yanking Gia down to the ground with him.
Moe had told him a long time ago that the best part of a car to use as a shield was the engine block. Frank hustled them over toward a Ford Explorer and crouched behind it.
He glanced at Gia's face. Worry spilled out of her face like an overflowing cup.
"You okay?"
Her eyes danced. "Oh. Sure."
He grinned. Gia'd always been the master of the understatement. "Keep your head down."
"I can't hear any shots being fired."
"He's using a suppressor."
"How will you know where he's shooting from?"
Frank
touched the line of blood on his cheek. It was a tiny cut. "Even with the suppressor, you'll still hear the sonic boom of the rounds being fired. Plus, I'm pretty good at guessing the direction of his bullets. He fired from across the street."
Another round caromed off the hood of the Explorer with a loud splang. Frank ducked, but then came up and squeezed off two rounds. He wasn't aiming so much as hoping the rounds would make the shooter duck back into cover.
Somewhere someone screamed.
"So much for that."
It was to be expected. The two shots from Frank's gun would have woken up the neighborhood even in the middle of the fiercest blizzard.
They'd be calling the cops now.
"Be careful, Frank."
Another bullet bounced off the sidewalk near him.
Frank frowned. He looked up and caught sight of a body ducking out of sight along the lip of the roof across the street. Damn, the kid moved fast.
He stretched his arms and aligned his front and rear sights, relaxing as he waited for the kid to show himself again.
A movement to his left and he aimed reflexively, squeezing off another double-tap. Two rounds ripped out his gun toward the roof.
Not fast enough. The form ducked out of sight again.
Shit.
Frank ducked back down. "We can't stay here."
"No shit."
Frank looked at Gia. He noticed the handgun in her hand for the first time. "Where in the hell did you get that?"
"It's not safe around these parts nowadays," said Gia. "It's getting so a girl has to protect herself."
"You know how to use that thing?"
"Well enough to drop someone in front of me."
Frank shook his head. Wonderful. Just what the world needed: a gun-toting Gia. God help us all, he thought.
"Cops'll be here soon. We have to move."
Gia nodded. "Just tell me when."
Frank poked around the engine block again. Another bullet ricocheted off the sidewalk, scarring it white as it did so. He looked back at Gia. "I'm going to shoot at that rooftop across the street. You get to the car and get the engine on." He fumbled in his pocket for the keys. "Make sure the engine's hot when I get there."
"You want me to drive?"
"You'll have to. If I waste time going around to the driver's side, I'll get shot. Scoot in on the passenger side and then move over. Got it?"