A THOUSAND KISSES DEEP

by Wendy Rosnau

  "Me and Briggs."

  Sly turned from the window recognizing the name. "Briggs? The man in records with no legs."

  "That's right."

  "And the others. Who were they and how did they die?"

  "Parnel and Krizova were killed outside of Prague in a scrimmage three years into our tour of duty. We were on a classified mission and we were ambushed. Ray Parnel and Cyrus Krizova were casualties. In the explosion, Peter Briggs lost his legs. Me, Paavo and Sid Nodes escaped. Nolles died ten years later in a plane crash. Bad weather traveling from Moscow to London."

  "No body?"

  "No. The plane crashed high in the mountains."

  "And Parnel and Krizova?"

  Merrick shook his head. "The same. Their bodies weren't recovered, but that's not unusual, Sly. Sully's dead. We don't have proof of that, but we know he's gone. About Eva, I still want to talk to her about the night of the fire. You going to let me?"

  "Questioning Eva is a waste of time. I've already tried to get her to remember what happened that night. If you had Paavo's file there might be a chance for her to remember something, but—"

  "What do you mean?"

  "She believes that something in that file might trigger her memory. She hasn't shared what that might be, but that's why she contacted you weeks ago. The psychiatrist called it memory rejuvenation. She tried hypnosis, but that didn't work."

  "If the file is what you need, then I can help out with that."

  "Not unless you brought it with you."

  "But I did." Suddenly Merrick was striding into the bathroom and turning on the light. Sly followed, and watched as his commander opened his mouth and popped the crown off one of his back teeth. Turning around, he pulled out a miniature data chip the size of a tooth filling.

  "Paavo's file?"

  "Paavo's file," Merrick confirmed. "Where is your computer?"

  "On the Hector," Sly said, holding out his hand.

  Merrick shook his head. "I think I'll keep it until we reach the Hector. Let's get going."

  "Not together," Sly said, wishing he could talk Merrick out of the chip, knowing he wouldn't be able to. "I'll leave first. Wait two hours, then come. Make sure no one follows you."

  Merrick turned to the mirror and popped the chip back into the perfect-size hole, then replaced the crown. When it was back in place, he said, "A good field agent doesn't let himself get tailed. You know that, McEwen. In two hours."

  Sly pulled the key out of his pocket as he strode down the hall. He reached room eight, but didn't need to use the key. The door stood open and Eva was gone.

  He swore, took the stairs three at a time, and came to a sliding halt at the end of the bar. She was seated at the table across the room with the five card players who had been ogling her a long hour ago. Someone had bought her a drink, and there was food in front of her, too.

  He studied her a moment, and decided she was unharmed. She no longer wore the tight skirt. Where she'd gotten the jeans he had no idea, or the white shirt she'd slipped over the tank top.

  Angry that she'd left the room after he'd told her not to, he strolled across the room, moved behind her and jerked her chair away from the table. Then drew her off the seat by taking hold of her arm. "Say good night, it's time to go."

  "Perimenete amerikano!" one of the men said, coming to his feet.

  Two others stood. Then a third, and fourth. They were definitely laborers of some kind. Probably fishermen—all of them tough lookers, used to ten-hour days building biceps and attitude.

  Sly said, "I don't want any trouble."

  "Then you should not have touched the pretty lady. Let her go, and we will think about letting you live," said the long-haired Greek who was still sitting.

  "I thought I told you to stay in the room," Sly muttered.

  "I told you I was hungry," she said as if that was a good enough reason to put her life in danger, and now his.

  "And I told you I would feed you later."

  "Meat," she reminded. "But now you don't have to. Look—" she pointed to the table "—it's called bifteki. A Greek hamburger."

  Sly glanced at the half-eaten hamburger left on her plate.

  "They knew what I was talking about," she continued. "Well, after I explained."

  From behind the bar, the waiter called out, "American Mac. Ne. We make good."

  "Actually, I think it's goat," she whispered, leaning into him, "but it's tasty, just the same."

  "Let the pretty lady go, amerikano. She amuses us and we are not yet tired of her company. She has promised each of us a dance to pay for the bifteki."

  Sly arched an eyebrow, and Eva responded with a shrug. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. A pain-free proposition. Food for fun. I haven't had a chance to dance much on this trip."

  Sly dug into his pocket and tossed a fifty-dollar bill on the table. "That should cover the burger."

  "I don't think so," said the man who had appointed himself spokesman for the rest of the crew.

  The sound of a knife being flipped open told Sly that things were about to get ugly. He looked down at Eva, put his hand on her ass, and squeezed. "Where did these come from? Who else will be looking to collect for these?"

  "No one. I found them in the room. The jeans are a little tight, but the shirt fits well, don't you think?"

  Her beautiful breasts were still on display and her comment had every guy in the place taking another long hard look at her sun-kissed cleavage.

  Suddenly the long-haired Greek stood, flashing his knife—a six-inch switchblade. "We don't want your money, amerikano. We want the woman."

  The crew nodded, then laughed.

  Sly didn't laugh, didn't crack a smile.

  The men were blocking the exit, so running was going to be difficult. Then, too, he had never thought much of tucking tail and running unless the odds were double-stacked, as Sully used to say. That meant ten to one odds.

  He glanced at Eva, gave her a cold smile, then spun her away from him toward the bar. "Don't disappoint me, friend. Keep her safe."

  The bartender's eyes widened, but he shook his head. "Ohi, no disappoint. Come, kyria."

  While Eva scurried behind the bar to join the bartender, Sly raised his knee and hooked the edge of the table. It flew up into the air, knocking over two of the men who were in agreement to take his head off. Spinning right, he kicked out and planted his foot into another's gut. A second later, he grabbed the long-hair and head-butted him before he could use his knife. As the man wilted to the floor, the two who had landed on their asses first were on their feet again. Swearing at Sly, they rushed him. He deflected a number of blows, exchanged swings, taking their punches as good as he gave back.

  He lunged forward and snagged one of the men by the shirt. Lifting him into the air, he tossed him into the other man and the two went down together again.

  Eva screamed and Sly turned away for a split second to make sure she was all right. But she hadn't been screaming because she was hurt. He realized then that she had screamed as a warning to him. Too late, he felt the knife cut deep into his forearm. He winced at the pain, then whirled around and grabbed the barrel-chested man's hand and gave it a hard jerk, then twisted. The switchblade went clattering to the floor. The man stood there howling, his expression a mixture of pain and admiration for Sly's superior strength and natural ability.

  Just before Sly's fist knocked the man to his knees, he said, "You shouldn't play with knives unless you intend to stick it where it counts."

  It was all over in a matter of five minutes. When Sly strode to the bar, the bartender gladly handed Eva over to him. Seconds later, they were out the door, sprinting past two violin players who continued to serenade an old couple holding hands on a bench.

  As they left Christos behind, taking a different route back to the Hector, Eva said, "You're losing a lot of blood. We should stop and—"

  "Keep moving," Sly said slowing their pace to a fast walk. His tone was hard as nails, and he gla
nced behind them to make sure they weren't being followed. Relieved when he saw no one, he muttered, "So much for a pain-free proposition."

  * * *

  Chapter 17

  « ^ »

  Merrick came over the side of the Hector dressed in black, moving as quietly as a cat burglar. A young cat burglar, Sly decided, more than a little impressed with his commander's field ability.

  He hadn't seen Merrick outside of Onyxx headquarters in seven years, and never once in field attire. He had to admit that the data he'd read on the mighty legend had been hard to swallow—until two days ago when he'd faced him at Cupata on the pedestal.

  The data had claimed that Adolf Merrick had been the deadliest Onyxx agent ever recruited. He still held several top-ranking stats, and was still on record as the most accurate government assassin ever. Not even Holic Reznik had been able to top Merrick's skill for masterminding the perfect kill. And by the way he had arrived tonight, it looked like Icis, the legend, had been keeping his talents polished just in case there was a good enough reason to get his hands dirty.

  Sly had searched the Hector from top to bottom once he and Eva had returned to the yacht. Seeing nothing amiss, he had accepted her help with his arm wound, then let her fix him a meal of scrambled eggs since he had been the only one who hadn't eaten something at Christos.

  They hadn't talked much, and he had decided not to tell her that Merrick was bringing her the file. He hadn't wanted to make any promises in case something unforeseen happened.

  He was seated in the wheelhouse having a smoke when Merrick entered.

  "Nice yacht, McEwen."

  Sly nodded. "Always wanted to get myself one of these."

  "Then it's yours?"

  Sly nodded, then blew out a stream of smoke. "You sure you weren't followed?"

  "I'm sure. But I'm surprised you weren't. What the hell was that all about at Christos? They were still mopping up blood when I went down for a bite to eat."

  "That was my blood," Sly admitted.

  Merrick eyed the bandage on his arm. "You getting soft or slow?"

  Sly offered him a cold smile. "Everywhere she goes, she can't help but turn heads."

  "It's been years since I've seen her. She was nine, I think. Slight, with big green eyes and lots of red hair."

  "She's still got lots of hair, and those same big green eyes, but I'd say you're in for a memorable experience, old man, when it comes to the rest. Come on." Sly tossed the cigarette overboard, then led the way downstairs.

  Eva was making coffee in the galley when they entered. She turned around at the sound of their voices, a look of surprise on her face when she spotted Merrick behind him.

  Sly turned and grinned when he saw the look on Merrick's face. "Like I said, memorable." He looked back, said, "Eva, this is Adolf Merrick. Merrick, meet Eva Creon."

  She didn't say anything for a moment, and neither did Merrick. Sly watched as the two of them assessed each other for several awkward minutes. Then Merrick reached into his pocket and pulled out a sucker. "I brought this for you. I went to five shops before I found the right flavor."

  When he held the sucker out to her, Eva took it with a smile. "Strawberry."

  "It's my favorite too, remember? I thought it was appropriate, even though I can see you're no longer a child with a sweet tooth."

  "She's graduated to meat now," Sly said. "Hamburgers."

  Merrick looked lost, and Eva gave Sly a don't-go-there look that made him chuckle.

  Sobering, he said, "You have something else for her, too, right, Merrick? Show her what else you brought her while I get things set up."

  Merrick glanced at Sly. "You didn't tell her?"

  "No. I wanted to make sure you showed up before I started making promises."

  To Eva, Merrick said, "I brought you the profile on your father. I know you gave me a deadline, and it's past, but McEwen says you've been trying to piece together the night your … the night of the fire, and that your father's file might help."

  Eva raised her chin in an effort to keep from looking too hopeful. Merrick missed it, but Sly didn't. He figured there was a good reason for that. He'd spent days with her, and nights, too. He'd watched her sleep, held her when she'd dreamed, heard her climax and felt her shudder with the force of it. He knew her inside and out.

  "I'll get the computer turned on," he said, then left the galley.

  He was in the small room behind the stairs getting things set up when he heard footsteps and turned to see Eva standing in the doorway. She was holding the data chip in her hand.

  "He took it out of the inside of his tooth," she said. "It's so small. Are you sure there's a file in there?"

  Sly grinned, then held out his hand. "It's in there."

  He took the chip from her, dropped it into a small well on a disk, then slipped the disk into the computer. It took only a matter of minutes and the file had been converted and downloaded into the computer.

  After Sly hit a few buttons, he glanced over his shoulder to see Eva chewing on her lip. "You all right?"

  "Yes. I'm just wondering what I'm going to find."

  "I'll hang around."

  "You don't have to. In fact, if you don't mind, I'd like to read it in private. Is that okay?"

  He nodded. "Still unsure what you're looking for?"

  She stepped close, laid her hand on Sly's chest. "Still unsure, but hopeful." She patted his chest. "I left Merrick in the galley with a cup of very black coffee. Why don't you go keep him company for a while?"

  Sly swung the chair around and gestured for Eva to take a seat. "You want me to bring you anything?"

  "No. Sly?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Merrick looks almost the same. His hair's all gray now, not just his temples, but he looks like I remember him."

  Eva closed her eyes and said a prayer before she sat in the chair. She had waited so long for this day and now… Now she was afraid. Afraid that she would read the file and nothing would happen. Her memory would fail her and she'd still be left in the dark.

  She suddenly wished she hadn't asked Sly to leave, but she was getting too used to having him around, too used to relying on his broad shoulders to lean on.

  She pushed that aside for now and placed her fingers on the keypad and began to read and scroll, scroll and read.

  Paavo Karol Creon, born March 7, 1948. Deceased, August 3, 1990. Only child of…

  The file wasn't lengthy—a few pages was all. It highlighted her father's birth and childhood, his education and military years. His marriage to Muriel Gallo had come about while he was stationed in Italy. In his five years with Onyxx, he'd been shot nine times, and lost his index finger on his right hand. For identification purposes the file listed the permanent scars on his body, and where each was located. There was also a complete health record. The last page of the file was dedicated to the fire at their home in Atlanta, resulting in his death, as well as the death of his wife and daughter.

  Eva sat back and went over the material in her mind once more. She felt like crying when nothing stood out as odd or enlightening. She closed her eyes determined to revisit the night of the fire, and this time, force herself to stay with the nightmare long enough to see the face of the man with her father in the hall.

  She put herself back on the stairs, a small nine-year-old girl with long red hair and curious green eyes. She smelled the smoke, and heard the voices. She saw her mother still and lifeless. Fear swelled inside her with the knowledge that her mother was dead. She took a deep breath, accepted the smoke into her lungs. Let it burn as it climbed back up her throat.

  She looked farther down the hall. She could see them, her father and the other man, the mystery man who had haunted her dreams. She was crying and they must have heard her. The man turned and…

  Eva leaped out of the chair. When she turned around she bumped into Sly. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. She went willingly, shaking fiercely, as she buried her face in the warmth of his chest.
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  "What is it?" He asked. "What did you see?"

  For a long minute Eva didn't speak, then she looked up, tears clouding her vision. "Eva, what did you see?"

  "My father," she answered. "My father laughing. Laughing, Sly. Mother's dead on the floor and he's laughing."

  Eva went looking for Adolf Merrick after she had pulled herself together, and assured Sly that she hadn't seen anything more. She found Merrick asleep in the guest bedroom. She had wanted to talk to him, had convinced Sly that she needed time alone with him.

  She stood over him now holding the sucker he'd given her. She had always thought her father's friend had been handsome. Even more handsome, perhaps, than her papa. Merrick had a sophisticated look about him, mixed with a ruggedness that would appeal to any woman.

  He had a clear complexion, a sleek nose and beautiful thick hair that had turned completely gray over the years, with one dramatic streak of silver slashed through it. His jaw was covered with a short gray beard a shade darker than his hair, and a silver mustache covered his upper lips.

  He wasn't as tall or muscular as Sly, but he had a solid frame that guaranteed his survival on the pedestal at Cupata hadn't been all luck.

  Evy, come see what Adolf brought you. You two have something in common. Strawberry suckers. Come, Evy. Come to your papa.

  The words came to her with affection, her papa's voice full of love for her. She had always believed he loved her, and warmed to the name Evy. She understood now why she had liked hearing it so much when Sly had used the name as well—it had made her feel special. It had reminded her of her papa when he had loved her.

  She stared at the sucker and realized that it wasn't the file that was making her suddenly remember. It was Adolf Merrick. He had unlocked the door to her memory the minute she had seen him in the galley.

  She continued to stare at him as conversations unfolded in her head, and key words began to piece the puzzle slowly together. They fell into place one by one, and with each piece a clearer picture began to form in her mind.