The man with the gun walked in, although he wasn’t holding the gun in his hand now. There was a tear in the right arm of his jacket, and Sam saw that the tattered fringes of the material were red with blood. The man didn’t even seem to realize it. He glanced down at Sam and smiled. It wasn’t a scary smile like the ones she’d seen on bad people on TV, but she was still frightened.
"Excuse me!" Tina said angrily. "What do you think you’re doing?"
"I’m sorry to just walk in like this," the man said. "But I was worried about the girl."
Tina reached back and felt Sam’s arm.
"Who are you?" Tina asked the man. "I know you’re not her father. I’ve met her father."
"I’m a friend. My name is Henry. Look, the girl is in danger."
"Then we should call the police," Tina said, quickly. She grabbed Sam’s arm and led her away from the door, back towards the kitchen. Henry followed.
"I don’t know if the police can help her," he said.
"Listen," Tina said, "I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing here, but I am calling the police. If you have a problem with that, then I suggest you leave."
Sam could tell Tina was afraid. Her grip on Sam’s arm was very tight, but it didn’t hurt. They were in the kitchen now, but Tina didn’t pick up the phone.
"No, you listen," Henry said. "Her parents are dead, and the person who killed them is going to kill her. The police won’t be able to protect her. They won’t understand what they’re up against. I do, and I’m not even sure I can protect her…but at least I know what we’re dealing with here, and I also know there is someone else who may be able to help me."
Tina just stood there. Sam didn’t really understand what the man was saying. Were the police bad guys? Her father always said the police were good guys. Sam knew her parents were dead, but at the same time it didn’t seem real. She thought that if she were to go back home tomorrow, everything would be the way it was before. She believed it because her mother told her that things always worked out for the best in the end, even if it didn’t seem that way at first. Always.
"Did you say…her parents are dead?" Tina asked.
"Yes. They are dead."
"Oh my God." Tina loosened her grip on Sam’s arm. Dead? It was hard for her to wrap her mind around the idea that this little girl had come to Tina, and then a strange man just walked into Tina’s house announcing that the little girl’s parents were dead. And he was bleeding from a wound in his right arm that he didn’t seem to notice. She didn’t know what to think, except that something was not right. A man was in her house. Was he a murderer? Tina fought a sudden urge to hyperventilate. She stepped back again, pushing Sam back further behind her.
"They were assassinated," Henry said.
"What?"
"Her parents were targeted by…someone I know. I was sent to make sure things went as planned, but I didn’t realize she’d be there. I didn’t realize they were just…ordinary people. It was a mistake. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t."
"Assassinated?’ Tina asked. The word had implications that she wasn’t sure she could make sense of at that moment. It confused her.
"You have to believe me," Henry said to her.
"I’m calling the police." Tina moved towards the phone, pulling Sam with her.
"No," Henry said forcefully. Suddenly he was holding a gun, with a silencer on the end. Like an assassin in a movie. It was pointed at Tina.
She froze. She started to shake. It took all her willpower to stop, to take control. She did it for Sam’s sake. She would do whatever was necessary to protect Sam. Her sudden conviction surprised her, and gave her strength.
"Why are you doing this?" Tina asked. She was not able to keep her voice from betraying her fear.
"I told you, the girl is in danger. It’s not something the police can do anything about. In fact, the police will make it easier for the people who want her to get to her. Do you understand?"
"No." Tina shook her head. "I don’t understand at all." Her voice was calmer, more controlled.
"I can’t make it any more clear than that."
"If you explain to the police, I’m sure they’ll believe you," she said.
"Sorry, but no, they won’t believe me any more than you believe me."
Tina took a deep breath. "I believe you," she said.
Henry managed half a grin. "No, you don’t. But that doesn’t matter. I’m taking the girl with me. Some place safe. Safer than here, at any rate."
"You can’t take her," Tina said. "I won’t let you."
"If I leave her here, they’ll find her and they’ll kill her. They might kill you, too."
Tina’s grip tightened around Sam’s arm. "She’s a child," Tina said, her voice shaking again.
"I know," Henry said. Anger, a trace of it, was in his voice. "That’s why I’m doing this. I couldn’t save her parents, but I can at least try to save her."
"From who?" Tina asked. "Who’s wants to kill her? The only person I see with a gun is you."
Henry didn’t reply right away. He took a few seconds to think while Tina stared at him. Tears started to slide down her face in spite of her efforts to control her fear. She wiped them away with her free hand.
"She ran from the house," Henry finally said. "They didn’t see her. I did, so I managed to slip away and follow her here."
"Are they still over there?" Tina asked. "Call the police, tell them to go to her house."
"No. They’re gone."
"How do you know?" The tears kept coming. She couldn’t control it. She wiped them away again.
"They’re professionals," he said. "I know them, I know how they work. I used to be one of them."
"Used to be?" Tina said sharply. She surprised herself with the tone of her voice. As if someone else had spoken through her.
"Yes. I no longer work for their employer."
"Who do you work for now?"
"I don’t work for anybody, anymore."
Tina opened her mouth to say something…she didn’t know what, she just had the urge to keep talking, as if eventually she might talk Henry out of whatever it was he intended to do…when he held up his hand.
"Wait," he said. "Go ahead." Tina looked him questioningly, and fearfully. "Go ahead and call nine-one-one."
"What? Why?" She didn’t trust him. What kind of game was he playing?
"I want to prove a point. Go ahead, call nine-one-one." She reached for the phone, then hesitated. "Do it," he insisted.
Tina still hesitated. It didn’t make sense. Why the sudden change of mind? It scared her. But this was her chance, so she decided to take it.
She wedged the receiver against her chin and shoulder, listening first to the dial tone, then the tones for the numbers as she pressed 9-1-1. It rang. She watched Henry while she listened to the phone ringing. It kept ringing and she kept watching Henry, who watched her. It rang four times, then five, six, seven… After each ring, she heard a click. Eventually, she lost count.
Finally, Henry stepped closer to her, reached out and took the receiver from her, replacing it on the phone.
"They’re doing it," he said. "They’re blocking or intercepting nine-one-one calls."
"Who?"
"My employer. Former employer."
"Who’s your employer?" He just looked at her, but it was evident from the look in his eyes that he didn’t know. "You don’t know?" Henry ignored the question. Sam clung to Tina’s arm. Tina looked down at her, then back at Henry. "Now what?" she asked.
"I need to leave," he replied, glancing down at Sam. "With her."
"No."
"And you," he said.
A chill went through Tina. She didn’t no what to say. "I don’t-"
He suddenly pointed the gun at her microwave and squeezed the trigger. The gun made a popping sound and a hole appeared in the door of the microwave, which beeped a few times, the numbers blinking. Tina was stunned. She didn’t know what to say or do.
"This is not a game," H
enry told her. "This is real."
"I… I need shoes," was all she could manage to say,
When he grabbed Tina by her free arm and pulled her out of the kitchen, she went along. He pulled down the hall to the bedroom, shoving her in before him.
"Put on some shoes," he said. It was a command. She couldn’t seem to process it, though. She did nothing.
He pointed his gun at the TV on her dresser, and shot it. A hole appeared in the screen and a buzzing sound emanated from within. Teddy jumped up onto the bed. Henry pointed the gun at him.
"Don’t!" both Tina and Sam yelled. Teddy recoiled from the noise, but he didn’t run away. Instead, he flopped down in the middle of the bed, oblivious to the apparent danger he was in. Henry still aimed the gun at the big, black cat.
"Then put on some shoes, damn it," he said.
"What the hell is the matter with you?" she practically hissed. She let go of Sam and pulled a pair of tennis shoes from her closet, and held them against her chest.
"Put them on," Henry told her flatly.
She didn’t want to put them on. If she did, she knew she would be going with him. She was afraid to go with him. Once she went with him, he could do whatever he wanted to her, and to Sam. But he had the gun, and Tina realized that he could do whatever he wanted to do to them right there in her own house. If she didn’t put her shoes on, he might get angry, and then…
She put her shoes on.
Chapter 8
Luc Beauchamp and Andrei Udin stood by the railing of the open terrace to the left of the main U.N. building, overlooking the East River. The two men watched a Boeing 787 Dreamliner in the distance, curving up into the air from La Guardia airport in Queens, the bright morning sunlight glinting off the silvery tube of the fuselage, then Udin turned to regard Beauchamp. Both men wore grim expressions. Udin, the Russian Ambassador to the U.N, was a stocky man with thick hands. His sharp, green eyes seemed small on his broad face. He towered over the Frenchman. Beauchamp, France’s Ambassador to the U.N, was a small man, balding but with extremely sharp features and piercing blue eyes. He had a scar across his left cheek from a mugging attempt several years before on the number six subway. The mugger had not expected a man of Beauchamp’s slight proportions to put up a fight, but that was what made Beauchamp so valuable to his government as their Ambassador to the United Nations. It was the same with Udin, who was sometimes referred to as "the Russian bulldog" by the Americans and Brits. He was a throwback to the days of the Cold War, when the Soviets sent their biggest, most imposing men to the U.N. as delegates, in the hopes of intimidating everyone else. Beauchamp, who as a young man had been a guard at Spandau prison, had dealt with the Soviet guards who were chosen for the same qualities.
"What do you know, my friend?" Andrei asked. They spoke English since neither man spoke the other’s native tongue.
"I am not sure that I know anything," Luc answered. "Our sources tell us that the British are up to something, but then it is true that the British are always up to something, no?"
The Russian laughed. "And the Americans?"
"You keep better track of the Americans than do we," Beauchamp said.
"Yes, it is true. And they, too, are up to something fishy, I think. But, like the British, when are they not?" He chuckled again.
"The question is, what are they up to?"
"I think it maybe has something to do with the girl."
Beauchamp didn’t reply right away. The two men stared silently across the East River. Both were reflecting on the secret meeting they’d attended earlier in the week with the other three permanent members of the Security Council. Only Peter Cornwall had voiced a real concern over the subject of that meeting.
"Do you think that Mr. Waldrup is in alignment with Mr. Cornwall?" Udin asked.
"Usually it is the other way around, no? The British are ever in alignment with the Americans," Beauchamp observed.
"As are the French, generally," the Russian noted, somewhat playfully.
Beauchamp sighed. "Yes, it is true. And I do not believe we think differently than the Americans this time. I think it is the British who have broken from the pack, so to speak."
"Do you think they will try to interfere?" Udin asked.
"Of course," the Frenchman responded casually.
"What should we do?"
"Nothing," Beauchamp said. "Let the Americans deal with it."
"If they know."
"And what of our friend Teng-chi?" Beauchamp asked. "You know him better than do I. What do you think Teng-chi will do?"
"I suspect he will do nothing," Udin said. "He will sit back and watch us, and wait to see what we do. He does not care what happens to the girl, whether the British can save her…or not."
"That is a question that has been bothering me, I must confess," Beauchamp said. "Should we care?"
"The Oracle has proven itself to us," Udin replied. "For myself, I support its conclusions. Remember the Lion of India."
"Yes." Beauchamp nodded. "How can the world forget the Lion of India?"
Tina left the lid up on the toilet, so Teddy had access to water in case she didn’t come back soon enough to fill his water bowl. She also left him a heaping mound of cat food in his other bowl. When she’d asked Henry how long she’d be away, he told her he didn’t know. It could be a day, it could be a week, it could be a lot longer…the unspoken implication being that she might never return. Tina couldn’t bring herself to think about why she might never return. She was on the verge of panic as it was. All she could think was that she wished she’d gotten to know her neighbors, or anyone at all in Atlanta, well enough for her to ask them to come by and make sure her cat was okay.
Then she was trudging through the woods towards the Rohde house with Sam and Henry. Tina carried Sam, who wasn’t wearing shoes. The girl was heavy, and she clung tightly to Tina, who could feel Sam’s fear and confusion with surprising empathy. It only made her feel stronger, more intent on protecting Sam. A dog a few houses down from hers barked at them. Tina didn’t know whose house it was, didn’t know the dog’s name. She realized how disconnected from her own neighborhood she was. Why was that? Why hadn’t she gotten to know even the people who lived next door? She knew Sam only because Sam had gotten to know Teddy.
They got to Sam’s house and stopped at the edge of the yard. Tina started to put Sam down, but Sam held on even more tightly. Sweat now soaked Tina’s clothes from carrying the girl, and her arms were beginning to ache.
"Now what?" she asked Henry.
"We’re going inside."
"Inside?" A cold ball of fear suddenly appeared and expanded in Tina’s gut. Sam’s parents were inside. If Henry had been telling the truth, there were two bodies inside.
"Let’s go," he said, and started across the yard. Tina didn’t move. After a few steps, Henry stopped, turned, and looked at her impatiently.
"You said there was somebody else," she told him.
He sighed, exasperated. "They’re gone," he said impatiently. He seemed sure of himself, and the way he looked at Tina… His eyes were cold. It reminded her that he was carrying a gun. She didn’t believe him for a second. There had never been anyone else. She wanted to run for it, but she knew she wouldn’t get far holding the girl.
Almost automatically she went before Henry as he stood in the lawn and watched her. The back screen-door was closed but the door behind it was open. Henry went up to the screen door, opened it, and held it while motioning for her to go in Sam buried her face in Tina’s neck. Tina went inside. The house was totally quiet. Henry came in next. She looked at him expectantly, her expression a question. Now what?
"She needs shoes," Henry said. "And clothes. And whatever else you think we should take that’ll make her feel less…frightened."
"Where are we going?" Tina asked him.
"I’ll tell you when we’re in the car and on the way." Henry went to the entrance to the hall and looked down it. "I think the girl should close her eyes," he tol
d Tina.
"Did you hear that?" Tina said to Sam. "Close your eyes, and don’t open them until I tell you it’s okay."
"Okay," Sam replied.
"Follow me," Henry said. Tina followed him from the kitchen and down the hall towards the front door. He was blocking her line of sight so she didn’t see Mr. Rohde’s body until she was within a couple feet of it. It, she thought. Not him. There was no mistaking death, no mistaking that life had fled the body and whatever had made it a person was gone. The carpet around the man’s head was soaked with dark blood. The front door was partway open, and it was easy to imagine what had happened. He’d answered a knock on the door, or a ring of the doorbell, and had been shot as he stood there greeting… Henry? Someone else?
Her heart pounded at the sight of the body. The thick pool of blood around the head made her feel faint. The stuff in her head, that made her who she was, could be just as easily spilled out, and she’d be nothing. Gone.
"Upstairs," Henry said, standing at the foot of the staircase and motioning for her to go up.
"Don’t open your eyes," Tina told Sam as she stepped gingerly passed the body. Sam clung to Tina even more tightly, threatening to squeeze the breath out of her. She almost lost her balance going up the stairs, starting to lean too far back, but she felt a hand on her back, pushing her forward and keeping her from falling.
"Be careful," Henry said behind her.
She made it to the hallway on the second floor. Suddenly, Sam was too heavy for Tina.
"I have to put her down."
"Okay," Henry said.
But Sam wouldn’t let go. "It’s okay," Tina told her. "We’re upstairs, now."
"Her room is up ahead," Henry said. "On the right."
The door was open. They went in, where a colorful computer was on, stuffed animals lined shelves on the walls, and a small kid-sized canopy bed stood in the far corner. The computer monitor came to life with a frog on it.
Hello, Sam, the frog said in a word balloon on the monitor screen. The words were cartoon versions of illuminated script.
"Sam, who’s that frog?" Tina asked.
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