“Wait here,” Andy said.
Carol stopped at the top of the stairs while Andy approached the door at the end of the hall. Corner apartment. It would have one of the wraparound balconies. Likely a coveted unit. It would also grant them roof access in a pinch.
Andy pulled his lock picks from his wallet. On a whim he tried the door first.
The knob turned in his hand.
He glanced over his shoulder at Carol, who merely shook her head as though this didn’t surprise her.
It didn’t inspire confidence in Andy.
He pushed the door open and peered around the apartment.
Either Nate was an alcoholic or he’d hosted a party recently.
Bottles lined every flat surface. Pillows were strewn on the floor. Art prints on the wall were askew.
“I see he hasn’t changed much.” Carol stopped at Andy’s side and sighed.
“Wait here while I check the place out.” He handed the black bag to her before venturing inside.
Andy crossed to the right side, which gave him a wide view of the living room party space, the wraparound balcony, the neighboring building, and rooftop. An open door allowed gusts of cold air to slice through the unit. The main space of the apartment was L-shaped, with the living area first, then a dining nook flanked by two walls of glass, and the kitchen on the other side.
He edged along the wall, securing the balcony doors and drawing the curtains as he went.
The bedroom door stood open and a naked man lay facedown in a pile of blankets. There was no blood, no sign of trauma, but the nearby trash can and the general smell were enough to indicate what was going on here.
Nate was passed out drunk.
Andy waved Carol into the unit. While she locked the door, Andy crossed to the bedroom doors and peered in. No other guests were evident.
“Wait there,” Andy said and entered Nate’s bedroom. “Nate Wickham?”
An answering groan proved that the man was not dead, merely very hungover.
“Nate?” Carol’s voice hitched—right behind him. “Oh dear God.”
Nate rolled over, taking the sheets with him and covering his nudity. He blinked at them, his befuddled expression textbook.
“Carol?”
“You haven’t changed at all,” she said drily.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Nate’s British accent was clear, crisp. He seemed sober now at least, and was probably from some sort of wealthy family with the way he spoke.
“It’s a long story,” she said.
“Who the hell is he?” Nate reclined back on his elbows, taking their intrusion better than expected.
“Put some clothes on, Nate. I need a favor.” Carol pulled open a drawer, as if she had some sort of homing beacon, and produced underwear. She tossed that at Nate, nailing him in the face.
“I still don’t know why you’re even here.” Nate scrubbed a hand along his jaw and sat up.
“I told you, I need a favor that requires your attention.” She pulled jeans and a thermal shirt from the closet and brought them to Nate. “We don’t have time for you to shower. I need you now, Nate. My life might depend on it.”
Nate blinked at her, then Andy.
“Well, all right then. What do you need?” he asked.
“A new identity. A passport. No questions.” Carol was handling this exchange better than expected. Andy didn’t like it. He didn’t want her in this world or adapting to it. She belonged in the civilian land, safe, secure, normal.
“Christ, Carol. Who do you think I am?” Nate pulled the shirt on over his head.
“You’re Nate Wickham. You know everyone. Will you help us, or won’t you?”
Nate took a moment sliding his underwear on, using the sheet to cover up. He was stalling, trying to decide if this was for real or not.
Andy pulled the Glock from his waistband and pointed the gun at Nate.
“She asks. I don’t,” Andy said.
“Fucking hell.” Nate’s eyes went wide and he held up his hands. “I’m thinking.”
“Andy,” Carol said sharply.
“He needed motivation.”
“How good and how fast do you need it done?” Nate glanced from Andy to Carol and back to the gun.
“Good and fast,” Carol said.
“Hours, how many hours?” Nate dropped his hands to his lap.
“Eight, twelve at most,” Andy said. Enough time for them to sleep, eat, make a plan, and get going again. Even eight was risky. If their passports had been flagged there was no telling how fast their enemies might zero in.
“Okay, I know someone.” Nate picked his phone up off the dresser.
“Put it on speaker.” Andy didn’t have to trust this guy.
“Fine, just don’t say anything.” Nate hit dial, then the speaker button. It rang a few times.
“Hallo?” a heavily accented voice said.
“Yeah, I need some American documents made by the morning. Can you send your boy round?” Nate swiped his hand across his brow, a bit of sweat collecting on his upper lip, probably from the heater aimed at the bed. No wonder he hadn’t noticed the open balcony doors.
“Can do,” the mystery voice said.
The call cut off.
Nate must have a regular habit of this sort of thing for the process to be so simple.
“How much?” Andy asked.
“Consider this a gift.” Nate glanced at Carol and smiled. “Never thought I’d see the day when you needed something from me.”
“The world works in mysterious ways. Get dressed. I’m going to get something to eat. I hope you have something besides liquor in your fridge.” Carol turned and strode out of the bedroom.
“You think I can actually cook?” Nate’s gaze slid to Andy and the fond light in his eyes flickered. Nate pitched his voice lower. “Who are you, then? What did you get her involved with?”
“I don’t trust you, and I don’t answer questions. Get dressed and get out there.” Andy tucked the gun back into the waistband of his jeans. If Nate was so well connected, he was just as likely to sell them out.
“There are maybe five people in this world who can ask anything of me, and she’s one of them.” Nate stood, jeans in hand. “Now, I don’t know who the hell you are, but you better not be the reason she’s asking me for help.”
“Put your pants on.”
Andy turned and walked into the kitchen.
Whatever Carol had done for Nate, it’d left an impression. One that had weight. That was useful. People who had emotional connections didn’t always do what was in their best interests. Maybe Nate would be more helpful than Carol hoped.
“There’s cheese and crackers.” Carol laid a plate of cheese on the counter and sighed. “What I wouldn’t do for a greasy sausage biscuit right now.”
“We’ll get something.” Andy glanced over his shoulder.
“What do you think?” Carol whispered.
“I think he believes he owes you a debt. He threatened me, so that’s good.”
“He what?”
“It’s good. Shows he might not sell us out.”
“Oh dear God.” Carol braced her hands on the counter. “What now?”
“We wait.”
“Sorry about the mess, you came round a day too late.” Nate stepped out of the bedroom, his hair artfully messy and smile disarming. Andy had seen hundreds of men just like Nate across the world. Smooth-talking ladies’ men who dabbled in drugs, forged documents, this and that.
“Since when have I ever been a party girl?” Carol crossed her arms over her chest and smiled.
“I’ll corrupt you someday.” Nate wagged his finger at her and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her in for a quick hug.
Andy’s throat tightened and he balled his hands into fists.
They looked—right.
Pale hair, perfect smiles, pretty people.
Perhaps Andy could leave Carol here, let her blend in.
&nb
sp; Yeah fucking right.
He wanted to punch Nate’s face in just for touching her.
“How about I order us some dinner?” Nate checked his watch. “Delivery boy should be here any minute. He’s the quickest son of a bitch on a bike I’ve ever seen. If you want to clean up, do it now. He’s not likely to wait long for you to primp.”
“Since when have I ever primped?” Carol laughed and pushed Nate’s arm from around her. “You need a shower.”
“I’d have gotten one if your friend here trusted me.” Nate cast a sideways glance at Andy.
“Is the bathroom through here?” Carol gestured at the other two doors.
“One in the middle,” Nate said.
Carol stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
Nate’s gaze went directly to Andy, and Andy didn’t bat an eyelash.
In the game of who would watch Carol’s back, Andy would win. Nate did not want to go there.
…
Saturday, CIA Headquarters
Kristina picked at her uninspired lunch. She hated the cafeteria food, especially on the weekends. It was likely the worst part of having to stay in hotels. She pushed the wilting lettuce around and reconsidered that burger.
What she wouldn’t give to be at home, but work was piled sky high and she was half afraid to be in any public, or private, spaces for fear of what might happen to her.
Her computer chimed.
She shook the mouse and brought up the alert.
A little computer wizardry had allowed her to set up an alert for any notice of Americans crossing multiple country borders.
Two hits.
A Jordan Smith and a Landon Klepper.
Both names were foreign to Kristina, but that didn’t mean anything.
She glanced around.
The office was practically deserted, more so than most weekends, since Mitch’s public arrest and Irene’s private dismissal. The others must be lying low to avoid notice. It made Kristina’s job easier. If she could have two whole days to herself to get caught up and put other plans into motion, that would help her immensely.
Three countries reported immigration checks for both names. There were no pictures and a quick check of the names provided hundreds of potential people. But what were the odds? It was mildly annoying that border checks for US citizens were not more stringent once admitted past the point of origin, but they’d work with what they had. She needed to check the list she’d put together yesterday. She couldn’t be certain, but maybe there was an obvious contact within the Croatian borders if she dug a little deeper.
Kristina gathered the information and sent it up the chain of command.
With any luck they were closing in on Carol and Andy.
She wished she could leave it at an email, but as sensitive as this information was, she needed to handle this personally.
Kristina blew out a breath, picked up her phone, and ducked into the supply closet. She hit dial before she could think too much about it.
“Yes?” the Shadow Man said after barely the first ring.
“I have three border checks for two Americans, point of origin is Switzerland, current location is Croatia. It could be them.”
“I’m looking at the email now,” he said. “Carol has an old contact working in Zagreb.”
“That’s…obvious.”
“Not entirely. There’s a team in Italy who can be there in a few hours. Coordinate with them. I’m sending you the contact protocols. Give them the pertinent details and green light them to kill on sight.”
“Understood, sir.”
Kristina’s heart beat a little faster. This—operational control—was what she’d always wanted. And now, she was getting it.
…
Saturday, Croatia
Carol curled her legs under her. She’d forgotten how enchanting Nate could be when it was just them. So much of what she remembered from his stay with her parents was clouded by his poor choices and knowing it didn’t end well.
“How in the world did you end up here? Don’t your parents hate it?” She propped her chin on her hand and studied the man Nate had become.
“Dad thinks it’ll be good for me, Mom hates it.” Nate shrugged. “I got here the same way I’ve gotten anywhere, wrong choice, wrong time. Story of my life.”
“You could consciously decide to make different choices.” She knew most people looked at Nate and saw him as another rich man’s entitled son who was given everything on a silver platter. Only proximity had shown Carol the truth, which was why she’d let him cheat off her.
“I did.” Nate spread his hands. “Believe it or not, for about two years I did my damnedest to do every good thing I could. You know what it got me?”
“What?” She cringed.
“I lost almost all my money, had to sell my flat—the big, nice one in London—and wound up in jail. That really pissed Dad off.” Nate relaxed back into the armchair. He made even lounging look good. “After that, I figured I’d gotten in worse trouble trying to be good. Why bother? No sense in fighting my nature. I know what you’re going to say.”
Carol closed her mouth and Nate chuckled.
“Nature versus nurture, right?” He sighed and his gaze focused on her with a new sort of interest. “I am what I am. And this time that’s going to save you. Funny how that works out, isn’t it? What are you running from—”
“Nothing,” she said before he could utter her name. She glanced at the windows with their blackout curtains. If someone had a high-powered listening device aimed at them, they’d hear everything.
“I wasn’t going to say it.” Nate turned and glanced over his shoulder at the spare bedroom door, mostly shut. “He’s jealous, you know.”
“What?” Carol blinked at Nate.
“You can’t see it? He’s practically vibrating with it. I thought he was going to leap across the island earlier.” Nate leaned forward, his elbow on the armrest, his gaze searching her face. “You would inspire that kind of loyalty from a man, wouldn’t you? I mean, look at me. I don’t do favors, and yet here I am, sticking my neck out for you.”
Heat crawled up Carol’s neck. Her skin burned so fiercely it made her eyes water a bit. Her emotions where Andy was concerned were complicated and murky. They didn’t have the luxury of reveling in what they shared. They were too busy trying to stay alive.
“You feel for him, too. You know a guy like this is putting you at more risk than I am?” Nate thumbed over his shoulder.
“It’s not like that.” She folded her hands in her lap.
“Is that so?”
She had the strangest urge to defend Andy to Nate, to tell him that it was her that’d gotten them in trouble. But she couldn’t trust that kind of information to Nate without putting his life at risk.
“He’s helping you run from something big and bad, then?”
Carol’s gaze snapped up from the floor to Nate’s face. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.
“Sometimes you have a great poker face, love, but now ain’t one of them. So, he’s helping you get away from something your precious CIA can’t help you with.” Nate leaned forward. “Is there anything I can help you with? Anything I can do?”
“Why are you helping us?”
“Because, you wrote that letter.”
Carol sucked in a deep breath.
“I knew it!” Nate wagged his finger at her. “I always knew it was you, because you were the one person no one would expect. How’d you know? How’d you do it?”
She swallowed and shifted in her chair. When everyone else saw a troubled teenager, she’d heard him at night, facing his demons, calling them out one by one. She’d heard an anguished soul crying out for help, and she’d done what she could. It still never felt like enough.
Looking back, she was fairly certain sending him to America had perhaps saved him. She’d never known the identity of the person molesting Nate, but she’d made an educated guess, written a strongly worded
letter on the school stationery and posted it to Nate’s parents when they’d begun to talk about forcing him to come home if his behavior didn’t change.
They’d still made him come home, but he’d been put in a boarding school, keeping the distance from home. The world was full of injustice, but at least she’d done some good.
“The air vents. If you lay with your head under it and said anything, I could hear most of it. It wasn’t intentional. I was going to tell you and then… I didn’t know how to.”
“You know they asked everyone at the school?”
“Yes. The student council used the conference room often enough that I…overheard a few conversations I wasn’t supposed to.”
“I don’t know if I should thank you or congratulate you.”
“Neither are necessary.”
“No, but it does make me more inclined to do what I can for you. What else do you need?”
“Nothing. This is more than enough.”
“Bullshit, Carol. You’re scared and you’re running with a guy like that.” Nate jerked his head toward the spare room again. “I’ve seen guys like him. He’s more dangerous than you know.”
“I’m keenly aware of who and what—he—is.” She swallowed down the name Andy. Nate had only heard her refer to him as Landon, and she needed to keep it that way.
“If you need someone that big and bad at your back, what are your chances? What are they really?”
“I am in danger. That’s why I need your help. With the documents I can travel freely.”
“Until they flag you. You stay out of the States and you’ll get more mileage off it, but if that were the case you wouldn’t need one quite so professionally done, now would you? So you’re going home. Oh, sweetheart, that’s not a good idea.”
“That’s not what we’re doing.” Lie. That was exactly what she needed to do. Once. Just this one time to help Mitch and Irene, then she’d head off to China and parts unknown to…eke out a life in the darkness. Andy would want her to go into hiding now, but how could she? They still had so much to do. If she stopped now she was leaving them all at risk.
Assassin Games (Tarnished Heroes) Page 21