by Robin Perini
“Smart doesn’t necessarily equate with sane.” Rafe scowled at him, adjusting his eye patch.
“You never have liked to fly.”
“With you,” Rafe snapped.
Lyssa said nothing. Not a smile at the forced joking. He met Rafe’s gaze and the man shrugged. He’d tried—he’d also been halfway serious.
Her silence sent the hairs on the back of Noah’s neck to attention. He didn’t like the contemplative look on her face. He’d seen it before—on Ransom Grainger’s face when his boss was planning a mission.
He pulled the SUV into the parking lot next to the only other car at this time of night. Probably belonging to the fixed-based operator’s lineman. Another reason Noah had chosen this little FBO. At this time of year, there was no skydiving and therefore, the airport was pretty much barren, especially so close to midnight. He favored two types of setups. Either one with too many people or hardly anyone. Both had advantages and disadvantages.
When it came to Archimedes, deserted won the battle. The guy could blend into a crowd. Which is why not one identifiable description existed of the man who had killed so many people.
Noah slid from the seat. “Wait here. I’ll make sure we’re fueled so we can take off.”
“No need,” Rafe said from the passenger side.
“The Lear’s ready? Who?”
“Zane. Our favorite computer jockey evidently likes propellers as much as you do. Elijah’s staying behind to analyze the evidence with the other forensics squints and hopefully get us a lead. He’ll join us as soon as he can.”
Lyssa twisted her fingers in her lap. “I think Elijah should go with you. Now.”
Her voice was too calm. Noah twisted in his seat, that bad feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. “You mean go with us.”
“No,” Lyssa said. “I’m not leaving with you. Two people are dead—and Reid could die—all because of me. I have to do something, and I’m not involving anyone else.” She opened her hand. “Give me the keys to the SUV, Noah. Archimedes won’t follow you. You’ll be safe, but I’m staying. When this is over, I’ll leave the car for you. I’m sure you can find it.”
He gripped the keys in his hand. “Hell, no. You’re not remaining in Chicago while that guy’s still on the loose.”
“I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have called Reid.” She met his gaze with an unwavering one of her own. “I’m doing what I should have done in the first place. I’m going to my apartment and wait with my 12-gauge across my lap and my .45 at my side. He won’t get away again.”
“You try this alone, and he’ll change it up. He’ll attack from behind or poison the air, or God knows what,” Noah argued. “We need to flank him.” He slammed out of the SUV’s front seat and scooted in the back beside her. “We’ve just gotten started. Give us a chance, Lyssa.”
“You’re not going to stuff me in some fortress in the middle of Texas. I can see it on your face, Noah. You want to hide me away. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“The idea has merit,” he said but retreated the moment she glared at him. “Look, we need to regroup. We’ll be analyzing every minuscule piece of information that’s been collected about Archimedes. We’re going to uncover the connection, and we’re going to find a way to trap him.”
“I gave you two chances. Reid’s in the hospital. Chastity is dead. Go back to Texas.”
Noah gritted his teeth. “Rafe, finish the preflight for me.”
His friend said nothing. He exited the vehicle and walked out to the plane. Noah gripped her shoulders. “I’m not letting you do this.”
“You can’t stop me.” She turned her palm up. “Keys.”
He shoved them into his front pocket. She followed the movement with her eyes. The challenge in them scared the hell out of him.
“There’s only one way for this to end,” she said softly. “He wants me. I’m going to give him what he wants. Hand me the keys.”
“I’m not going to convince you to come with us, am I?”
She shook her head. “You did what you could. Tell Reid...if he wakes up, tell him I appreciate what he tried to do. And that I’m sorry.”
“Damn you, Lyssa. You’re going out there to die, aren’t you?”
“I’m not planning on it.” She straightened her back, her chin lifted in determination. “But he’s going to die, Noah. And if I die, too, I’ll have done the right thing. For everyone.”
“I’m not letting that happen.” Before she could say another word, Noah grabbed her by the waist and tugged her out of the SUV so fast she didn’t fight him.
He’d obviously taken her by surprise. Good.
He heaved her up over his shoulder and placed the keys on the driver-side front tire.
The calm lasted for a second or two. She twisted against him, squirming. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Saving your life,” Noah said with a grunt when she kneed him in the gut. “Stop it or I’ll drop you.”
She didn’t obey.
Fighting against the she-cat in his arms, pretty sure she’d bruised some ribs, he climbed up the plane’s steps. Zane’s mouth fell open but he moved aside.
“Let me down, Noah,” Lyssa bit out, “or I’ll call the cops.”
He dumped her into a seat and clicked the seat belt around her. She unlatched it and sprang to her feet. She shoved her hands at his chest, then heaved her body weight at him, shoulder first. He stumbled back and gripped her arms. “Lyssa, calm down. I’m not leaving you. You’re not in this fight alone, do you hear me? You. Are. Not. Alone.”
She shook her head back and forth. “Don’t you get it? You could die. You could all die! And it would be my fault. Again. I won’t let that happen. I can’t.
“I can’t,” she whispered over and over again.
Her fists gripped his shirt hard and he hugged her against him, tight. She tried to push him away, she fought against him, but he wouldn’t let her. Not now. He strengthened his hold, waiting for her struggling to stop. The torment in each movement and groan stripped his heart. He didn’t know how long it took, but finally, her body sagged in exhaustion, her breathing ragged.
With her energy gone, he cradled her in his arms and sat down in one of the leather seats. He ran his hand along her hair. He met Rafe’s gaze over her.
Take off? he mouthed, knowing his friend could do it, also knowing he hated to pilot the plane.
Rafe gave him a curt nod, then motioned to Zane.
They disappeared into the cockpit.
Noah shifted her off of him, and she let him rebuckle her seat belt.
“You shouldn’t do this,” she said to him, her voice flat, her face haunted. “You know how many lives he’s ruined. He’ll ruin yours. I know he will. It’ll be my fault.”
The plane lifted off. He’d never have known the runway was too short. Rafe had quite the touch. Noah took in Lyssa’s nearly ghostlike complexion. He tugged her hands between his. Her fingers were ice-cold and he rubbed them, warming the frigid skin. “It’s not your fault. It’s his. He made the choice.”
She wouldn’t look at him but stared down at her hands. “Did you see Al’s face? He loved Chastity. And because I chose to go into that diner one day, because I couldn’t resist a friendly smile some days...” A shiver ran through her, she ripped her hands away from him, clenching her fists, her knuckles white. “I hate him. I hate what he’s done.” She lifted her tortured gaze to his. “I hate that you’re next.”
“We’ll be ready for him,” Noah promised, praying he could keep his word. If he didn’t, Lyssa wouldn’t survive. And if she didn’t, neither would he.
The hum of the plane’s engine quieted as they reached a cruising altitude.
“You can’t guarantee...” She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “You don’t
know...” Her eyes glazed over and she stared out the window into the darkness that cocooned the aircraft. “Life couldn’t have been better that day. The day that changed my world forever. I’d fallen in love with Jack. We’d moved in together. At work, I’d just been tapped to do a high-profile press conference translating for the Russian president. Everything was perfect...”
She crossed her hands over her stomach, the agony almost too difficult to watch. Jack had been a lucky man. To have a woman’s love like that, Noah could only imagine.
“Archimedes destroyed everything. When I walked in the house that night, he’d been aiming the gun at Jack. He swung around. Jack yelled at me to run then rushed Archimedes, placing himself between me and that madman. The guy just shot Jack in cold blood, in the head, then he turned to me...” Her voice broke. “I could see Archimedes smile, his mouth visible through the hole in the ski mask he wore. He held out his hand to me. ‘Come,’ he said. I ran.”
Noah had never heard her version of that night. He wanted to drag her into his arms, out of the nightmare, but she’d locked herself in the past.
“Lyssa,” he said, his voice soft.
Her eyes snapped open.
“Did he ever point the gun at you?”
“Of course he did. Jack jumped in front of it.”
“That’s not what you said. You said Archimedes swung around when you came in the room.”
Her forehead furrowed. “I guess...what are you getting at?”
“I think there’s a reason you’re still alive. Archimedes doesn’t want you dead. He wants you. We can use that to our advantage. If you’ll let us.
Noah gripped her hand. “He’s dropping a twisted trail of bread crumbs, and you’re the prize he’s waiting for.”
* * *
CANDLELIGHT FLICKERED AT the small corner table of the Italian restaurant, illuminating the face of the woman across from Archimedes. The fragrant spices of the exclusive D.C. eatery danced on the air.
There was no name over the doorway—just another reason he frequented the place. Enough cash bought a table...and discretion.
His companion was attractive enough, unassuming. Her eyelashes fluttered and she gazed at him, something akin to adoration.
She wasn’t Alessandra, of course. Alessandra was perfection.
He lifted the glass of red wine, letting the berries, vanilla, mocha and oak aroma tease his palate. “To our three-month anniversary.” He smiled at her. “You, Rose Wright, have placed my greatest desire within reach.”
Her cheeks flushed and she bit her lip, taking a dainty sip of the Petrus as he, too, gifted his taste buds with the fifteen-hundred-dollar-a-bottle wine to celebrate his Chicago success. While the police and the feds scurried like rats, he waited, waited for Alessandra to prove her worth.
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” Rose sighed.
The waiter approached and placed their plates of pasta in front of them.
Archimedes frowned, staring at his dish. Spots. He could see the spots. The side of his head began to throb and he pressed the heel of his hand against his temple.
“Take them back,” he snapped. “We want clean china.”
The waiter scowled and snatched the dinners. “Whatever.”
Rose squirmed in her chair, her face going pale. He touched her cheek, forcing himself not to wince as his bare finger came into contact with her germ-infested skin.
“Nothing but the best for you, my dearest Rose.”
The waiter soon returned. “I—I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t realize who you were.” He practically bowed leaving them alone, perfectly pristine plates sitting in front of them.
Rose smiled in awe. “How do they—?”
“I have a variety of interests, my dear. The owner once assisted me and I helped him gain financing to open up the restaurant. Clearly, the waiter is new. He won’t make the same mistake again.”
Archimedes studied the unspoiled fork and sampled the pasta. Perfect, as always. “How is work, my dear?”
Rose frowned and leaned forward. “Terrible,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “My boss was almost killed yesterday.”
“Almost?”
The man should be dead. Archimedes had killed more than one with a blow with exactly that force and position...except, Reid Nichols had fought longer than most against the paralytic drug. He’d moved slightly, impacting the trajectory and pressure. Interesting. Just the slightest change had spared the man’s life.
Luckily, the marshal’s survival wouldn’t alter Archimedes’s plans. His disguise would misdirect any inquiries.
“He’s still alive, but he’s in a coma. They’ve clamped down tight on security.” She lowered her voice. “They think a serial killer did it. That woman I told you about last week, the one who is the only witness, she’s on the run now. They can’t find her.”
“Really?”
He let the slight hint of red chili in the sauce tingle in his mouth and hid a smile of satisfaction. He knew exactly what had happened to Alessandra. And who.
Archimedes had thought he’d recognized the man at her side. A bit of research on the plane from Chicago had verified his rival’s identity.
Noah Bradford. Supposed electronics wunderkind. Wealthy, and his company’s contracts with Homeland Security and the Department of Defense were the envy of many a high school geek who wanted to make it big.
There was Gates, Jobs and Bradford.
This time, though, Bradford had no idea who he was dealing with.
The question was, why would someone like Bradford step out of his pristine corporate CEO position and partner up with three unidentifiable men? Why would Bradford care about Alessandra? Archimedes would have to dig deeper. There had to be a connection.
Not that it mattered.
He slipped his phone from the pocket of his fine cashmere coat and opened the map. After zooming out a few times, a small dot blinked.
So, his prey had gone to Texas.
He looked up from the screen to his companion. She spun her fork in the spaghetti and stuffed it in her mouth. Sauce marred her chin. He sighed.
No, she definitely wasn’t Alessandra.
“I’m afraid we have to cut tonight short, my dear.” He indicated his phone. “Business call. I have another plane to catch.”
She bowed her head, clearly disappointed. “But you just got back. I’d hoped we could spend the night...together.”
He struggled to hide the shudder of revulsion. At least he had an excuse. “My job shouldn’t take long, and then I’ll be able to show you how I really feel.”
He folded the napkin perfectly eight times and grimaced at the mess she’d dropped on the plate. Lipstick stains and marinara sauce smudged the white linens.
Disgusting.
Even if he’d desired her, she would require too much work to perfect.
She wasn’t Alessandra.
No one was.
A small plane ride and his message would be delivered.
Noah Bradford would soon understand.
Alessandra would receive the next clue...her next test.
They couldn’t hide from him.
He was too smart, too clever.
Archimedes stood, waiting for Rose. She stumbled to her feet and he escorted her out of the restaurant to the Metro. At just after midnight, the train still bustled. A man in a suit shoved them aside in his hurry to board the red line.
The pain in Archimedes’s head throbbed. He scowled and pressed against the sharp agony.
Rose clutched his hand, digging her fingernails into his palm, an act she’d pay for. “That man d-doesn’t matter.”
Archimedes tugged her onto the train and sat across from the insolent passenger who focused on his tablet computer.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “This isn’t our stop.”
He ignored her. He tapped an image.
The red-line train pulled away. Through the window, Archimedes could see the man convulse as an overload of electrical current pulsed through his fingertips from the tablet. He fell to the floor.
Dead. Heart stopped.
Another lesson learned. They would respect him.
Sooner or later, everyone would understand.
Chapter Five
The dim light of dawn brushed the edge of the horizon by the time Noah ordered Rafe to head directly to the safe house. At least the Texas weather cut them a break. Ten degrees warmer made for a big difference, even in the dead of winter.
From the backseat of the rented SUV that CTC had supplied, Noah scanned the area surrounding the new location. A screened-in front porch encased the ranch-style house. One more barrier. He liked the setup.
“Drive past it and circle around,” he ordered Rafe, even though they’d serpentined through the Dallas–Fort Worth area for the past ninety minutes.
On high alert, his hand on his weapon, Zane peered out the other side of the vehicle. Normally, Noah would have taken the front passenger seat, but he’d slipped into the back with Lyssa.
Surprising how her new name fell off his tongue so easily. He’d almost stopped thinking of her as Alessandra. He glanced over at her. She’d fallen into a deep sleep on the plane. Nearly thirty-six hours awake had scraped her nerves raw. The nap had returned some color to her cheeks. That, along with a hint of embarrassment and a flash of resentment in her eyes.
He’d half expected her to hightail it when they’d landed. He’d practically kidnapped her, after all. She’d been quiet since they’d landed. He had to wonder what she plotted behind those compelling green eyes. She gripped her duffel tight. The shotgun was just inside. He didn’t blame her for keeping the weapon close, as long as she didn’t use it on him.
He’d told her the truth. Maybe the sleep had made her see sense. She was smart. She’d stayed alive for two years. They all needed to regroup. He didn’t like being in retreat, but better alive and together than the alternative.