Seconds turned to minutes, which turned to hours. Henri would walk around the terminal to stay awake, but after an hour or so, that would be ineffective. He drank enough coffee that his hands were trembling and he had to use the toilet. He ate a meal of roast beef and salad and took another walk before lying down across several seats. He would close his eyes and drift off to sleep before his eyes would dart open again. It wasn’t until daylight broke through the windows and pierced his closed eyelids that he understood Gustav wasn’t coming.
He sat up and spoke to the federal agents. They assured him they would keep an eye out and that TSA would keep the photo. Henri thanked them, and then strode to the counter and purchased a ticket to Charles De Gaulle International in Paris. His flight would be leaving in three hours, so he decided to return his rental car and then take a walk outside the terminal to get air. A man was smoking on the corner and Henri stopped next to him.
“May I have a cigarette?”
The man nodded and pulled one out. As Henri put it to his lips the man lit it for him.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, brother.”
“I keep attempting to quit but it doesn’t seem to be working.”
“It’ll do that to ya. You French?”
“Yes.”
“I always liked the accent. I used to wish I had it ’cause I thought it would get me more pussy. Chicks dig that accent.”
Henri shrugged. “In France they like German accents. Whatever is unfamiliar I suppose.”
The man puffed on the cigarette. “Still want a French one.”
“You could fake it.”
“Nah, I ain’t gonna be someone ain’t me. What part a France you from?”
“I was born near Bordeaux in a town called Lormont.”
“Yeah? What was that like?”
“It was good. I miss it.”
“Why don’t you go back?”
“It’s not the same. That type of town doesn’t exit anymore. It had one baker, one doctor, one mechanic…you don’t have that anymore. It’s all just corporations now. Faceless.”
“I hear that. I’m from Montana and had nothing in the town I grew up in. Then they built a Wal-Mart and now they got nothin’ but fast food and billboards.” The man took another puff. “That’s a damn shame to treat a woman like that.”
Henri followed his eyes to a car pulling into the parking terrace across the lot from them. A young woman was in the passenger seat and it looked like she was struggling with the driver, a male. The woman tried to open the door and the male grabbed her by her hair. As the man hauled the woman back inside, Henri got a good view of him.
It was Gustav.
CHAPTER 60
Billie put her arms around him as the woman ran. Gustav pushed her off and pinned her against the kitchen counter. Billie screamed as the pistol grazed her breast. Gustav’s face contorted in anger but he pulled the pistol away and instead slapped her hard against the face, sending her to her back on the kitchen floor.
“Wait here,” he said. “If you run, I can find you.”
Billie lay on the floor, crying into her hands. She heard the door shut but she couldn’t move. She felt that it would be easier if she were dead, the motivation to keep going fading inside her.
After a while, she pulled herself up and wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. She went into the living room and stared at the door.
“Fuck him.” She sprinted for the door. Running down the hall, her footfalls heavy against the floors, she made it to the elevators and pressed the button. She pressed it impatiently until it arrived. She hopped on and went to the first floor.
Glancing around only briefly, she ran outside and into the night. A sense of relief washed over her. People were walking on the sidewalks and cars were driving by. But she knew the relief was illusory: this…thing would kill her in front of a hundred people as easily as he would if they were alone.
She ran to the first couple she saw and screamed, “Please, please, I’ve been kidnapped.”
“Whoa, calm down.”
“No, no, you have to get me outta here,” she said, frantically. “We have to go right now. He’s coming back.”
The female pulled out her cell phone and dialed nine-one-one.
“No,” Billie screamed, “that won’t help. We have to go please, we have to go.”
“Hey, I said calm down. It’s okay. The cops’ll be here in a minute. No one’s going to hurt you with twenty people around.”
“We have to go,” she said, pulling on the male’s arm.
“Let go of him.”
“You fucking asshole,” Billie screamed as she ran from them and into the intersection. The light was green but she stepped out into the intersection anyway, holding out her hands. A Buick slammed on its brakes and blared its horn. Billie ran around to the driver’s side. An old man in a suit rolled up his window. Billie tried to open the door but it was locked. She screamed and pounded on the door but the man only stared wide-eyed at her. He pulled away with her still pounding on the windows.
She tried to stop the car after him. A middle-aged woman with kids was driving. She kept going, not even looking at her. A woman in the third car stopped and rolled down the window.
“You all right?”
“I’ve been kidnapped,” she said, crying. “Please get me outta here.”
“Oh my gosh. Get in.”
The woman opened the passenger side door and as Billie got in, she took out her cell phone and dialed nine-one-one. Billie sat in the passenger seat curled up as the car began to move again. Then it stopped. She looked around, wondering why they weren’t going anymore. She turned to the woman to tell her to hurry up when she saw Gustav standing at the open window. The woman was staring at the roof, the handle of a knife sticking out of her throat.
Billie screamed and opened the passenger door. She got out as a car was passing and it swerved away from her, crashing into another car in the far lane. All the vehicles behind them hit their brakes, and Billie ran between the lanes screaming.
She glanced back once and saw Gustav take out his pistol and place the barrel against the forearm of his left arm to keep it still. He was taking aim. She dove underneath a car just as the first bullet shattered the windshield she had been standing next to just a moment ago. She got to her hands and knees and crawled on the pavement. No one got out of their cars. She would reach up to a door handle and it would be locked, the driver avoiding her gaze.
She was hysterical now, unable to control her screaming. She crawled until her knees were cut and bloody and her hands had small pebbles embedded in them. But she didn’t look back. She went as fast as she could and then turned a corner before standing up and running.
Not two seconds into her run, she felt a burning sting in her upper thigh and her left leg ceased to respond. She collapsed and hit the ground hard, chipping her front teeth on the pavement. She tried to crawl again but agony thundered through her leg and up into her hip. She shrieked and rolled to her side.
Gustav stood over her. A man on the sidewalk ran up and said, “What the fuck are you doing?”
Before he was even close enough to see exactly what was going on, he had a round through his throat and he fell to the curb as everyone else panicked and ran. Gustav looked down at her, mumbling to himself.
“That woman,” he said, “that woman is dead. You killed her, you killed her.”
Billie screamed, her eyes closed. “I didn’t fucking kill her! You did, you motherfucker.”
Gustav picked her up and stepped into the road. A car swerved to miss them and was just barely able to come to a stop. Gustav shot the driver through the window and dragged out the corpse. He shoved Billie into the passenger seat and began to drive.
He locked the doors as Billie simply sat and cried. She screamed, “Just fucking kill me!” and it made him laugh.
They drove on the freeway, and several times Billie tried to open the door, but he would g
rab her or slap her. She tried getting into the backseat to open those doors but he pulled her back and hit her across the face.
Out of energy, Billie felt even the terror had been replaced with exhaustion. She collapsed against the seat and couldn’t move, numb except for the throbbing pain in her leg. She was bleeding out, and only the dim recognition that she would die dawned on her.
“Why?” she said. “Why me? Why?”
“You have a purpose, and everything you have done in life has led you here. It was inevitable. All your actions, all your decisions, were all meant to bring you here.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
“That doesn’t change that you are here with me.”
“Just kill me, please just kill me.”
“Not yet.”
Sirens zipped past them on the opposite side of the freeway. Billie could hear a helicopter somewhere in the sky.
“They’re going to find you,” she said.
“No, I do not think they will,” he said, pulling off the freeway and into a residential area.
They drove for a long time, and he had his hand on her arm, ensuring that she didn’t move. Several times he pulled out a cell phone and checked directions but eventually she could see airplanes landing and taking off and knew they were headed for the airport.
As they pulled in and went up to the parking terrace, she knew he would kill her here. He wouldn’t risk being on a plane with her. He would shoot her and leave her in the car.
As they passed a checkpoint, she threw herself against him and slapped her hand against his door several times before hitting the unlock button. She turned and grabbed the door handle to the passenger door. It opened. She was nearly out when he grabbed her hair and pulled her back inside.
CHAPTER 61
Henri threw the cigarette down and sprinted for the parking terrace. He pulled out his weapon and ran until his legs felt like they were full of battery acid. As he ran up the ramp, he saw that the attendant in the booth noticed the gun and immediately picked up the phone and called someone.
Henri didn’t stop running until he got to the first level of parking. He looked for any moving vehicles but didn’t see the one that had just driven up. He jogged through the lot, looking down all the rows. He didn’t see them. He began climbing the ramp to the second level.
A car was coming down and nearly clipped him. They honked. He kept going, not even glancing back as the man rolled down the window and swore at him. Henri got to the top of the ramp and to the second level. He scanned the rows, his breathing loud, his heart hammering.
He slowly examined the rows up and down. A family, a couple—young—a single man…he didn’t see what he was looking for. There were two more levels of parking and he ran up the ramp to the third and then to the fourth. He leaned against the entrance to the terminal on the fourth level, panting, and slowly looked at every car. At the far end of the lot, parked in a dark corner, was the car he had seen. The man and woman were still inside.
He sprinted with everything he had left. As he got closer he could see that the driver held something: it was a firearm. The driver’s side window was open and Henri leapt through it.
He jumped on Gustav and grabbed his wrist with both hands. His own weapon dropped into the passenger seat.
“Run!” he shouted.
The girl climbed over both of them, screaming, and squeezed headfirst out of the driver’s side window. Gustav saw her leave and roared like an animal. He grabbed Henri with his free hand and pulled him farther into the car. The engine was running and he put it in reverse and backed up until he hit the wall.
Gustav put it in drive and began down the ramp. The car would scrape against one side of the barrier and then drift to the other. Henri was still pushing Gustav’s weapon against the seat. He flung his elbow back and it impacted against Gustav’s cheek. The weapon came up and fired, nearly shooting him in the face. Henri had to hold on with both hands again to keep the gun down.
The car was picking up speed as it raced down the ramp. Gustav hit another car, which was driving up, and the impact flung Henri against the dashboard, but he didn’t let go. They pulled out of the ramp and onto the road leading to the interstate. Henri could feel Gustav press the gas pedal all the way down.
“I’m ready to die, are you, Henri?”
“Stop the car.”
“No.”
“You’ll kill us both.”
“You have an illusion of control but in reality you have no control over your life. That is why people are so miserable, no? They believe they have control and keep trying to change things, but if things do not want to be changed, there is nothing you can do.”
“Gustav, stop the car!”
“Let go of that feeling of control, Henri. There is nothing more freeing in the world.”
Henri glanced out the windshield. They were on the opposite side of the road and cars were speeding toward them.
“I understand, Gustav,” he said pleadingly. “I really do. Now please stop this car.”
Gustav let go of the steering wheel and the car began to drift one way and then the other. “No. Let us answer the great mystery together.”
Henri heard honking and the screeching of tires. He let go of the gun and grabbed the steering wheel. He twisted to the right as far as he could as the gun came up and fired three shots, all tearing into his flesh.
The car spun and then was thrown to its side. It was upside down on the pavement and scraping from the momentum as a shower of sparks flew around them.
It came to a stop in the middle of the lanes. Henri felt the warm flow of blood as it came over his eyes and mouth. He couldn’t move but he could see Gustav as he attempted to crawl out through the broken glass of what used to be the windshield. His leg looked broken, a piece of bone sticking out through the shin. The gun was nowhere he could see.
Henri heard sirens. He reached for Gustav and got ahold of his shirt. Gustav slapped his hand away, and crawled out. Henri watched his footsteps as they ran off, and disappeared.
CHAPTER 62
Dave Cullimore stepped out of his car onto the residential street and glanced around. Sunlight pierced through the dark gray clouds that had been over the city for the past week. The rain had let up and left the pleasant smell of wet pavement and grass.
He had parked two blocks from where he needed to be, so he stepped onto the sidewalk and began to walk. Children were out in yards and a group of teenagers were playing street hockey in the road. He stopped and watched as a boy stole the puck by pushing his teammate out of the way before walking on.
The house appeared like any other. He stood in front of it for a moment before walking through the yard and up the porch. He had a temporary card, which had been left on his desk, and he took it and tried to figure out how to scan it on the little box. He remembered he’d also been given a small key and he took it out and opened the box. He figured out the scanner and the door clicked. He turned the knob and it opened and he went inside.
He was surprised to find photos of a family up on the walls. He wondered if the family knew their pictures hung in this house or if they were actors that had been hired specifically for this. A couple of dishes were in the sink but they were clean and no food clung to them.
“You’re late.”
Dave turned to see a woman in a business suit rise from the couch. A holster underneath her jacket revealed a black handgun.
“Sorry,” he said. “I took the long way.”
She walked past him into the kitchen. “Follow me. He’s upstairs.”
Dave followed behind her to a massive wooden door. As she opened it, he knew it was actually metal from the way it scraped against the linoleum. She held it open for him and he started up the stairs as she shut the door behind her and followed. At the top, he waited for her then she brushed past him and led him to an office down a hallway.
Santos Aras sat at a large desk going through some papers. He didn’t look up when Dave en
tered, and the woman shut the door behind him. Dave stood silently as Santos finished reading a document.
“Sit down,” Santos finally said. Dave took a seat across from him. “I don’t appreciate tardiness. It’s unprofessional for someone that’s been with the agency for so long.”
“I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.” Santos leaned back. “You have a good career with the agency. You’ve been promoted twice in the past five years, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Three promotions actually. Sir.”
“That’s impressive. You got a retirement waiting for you after twenty years of service; you got people under you. Why do you want to come work for me?”
“I believe Starlight to be the forefront of national defense, sir. When I was approached by your recruiter, I jumped at the chance. I’d actually been waiting for it.”
Santos nodded. “What do you think it is we do here exactly?”
“I think we defend the nation from internal and external threats. We move without bureaucracy and without adherence to international conventions.”
Santos took a deep breath. “You’re an idealist. I have no use for an idealist. Get out of my office.”
Dave’s stomach dropped. “Sir? I don’t understand.”
“Why do you think we invaded Iraq after September 11?”
“Um, we thought they had WMDs and that Saddam was a threat to our allies and connected to various terrorist networks.”
“Looking back on it now, Mr. Cullimore, was any of that true? Answer me honestly.”
“No, sir. None of it was.”
“We invaded Iraq because there are companies that make enormous profits off war and because we wanted a cheap new source of oil before China got it. Presidents don’t decide when to go to war, their advisors do. They slowly steer the president in the direction they want him to go. Only the more naïve ones think they’re actually making the decisions on their own. Advisors and lobbyists are who determine what this nation does, and both can be bought and traded as easily as cattle. Those reasons you just listed were an illusion that we weaved. We’re magicians; that’s what we do. We build grand illusions and the entire world is the stage we perform on. Do you understand?”
Diary of an Assassin Page 19