by Justine Davis, Amy J. Fetzer, Katherine Garbera, Meredith Fletcher, Catherine Mann
At the roof’s edge, the look-alike didn’t hesitate, flinging herself over the alley and landing on the next rooftop. She dropped and rolled, coming at once to her feet.
Sam followed, throwing herself over, as well. She noticed at once that she was better at the rooftop travel than her double, and she leaned into the race. Evidently her doppelganger was an expert in hand-to-hand, but she lacked skills in urban racing.
They ran across three more rooftops, going up a floor on a taller building. Sam leaped forward and caught the building’s edge, trying desperately not to think of the three-story drop below her. She pulled herself up and continued the chase.
“East,” Sam called when her quarry broke and ran in that direction. She continued calling the changes to guide the SEALs rushing through the alleys below. Chayton stayed in touch, his voice calm and neutral. From below, they could never have tracked the woman.
Her breath burned the back of her throat. Her legs began to feel like lead. She pushed through the fatigue, noting with grim satisfaction that the chase was wearing on her double as well. Still, for all the skills Sam had at la parkour, she knew her double was in better shape than she was. The two months of being incarcerated had taken some of her endurance edge away. It had been hard to use large muscle groups in an aerobic activity while in the room.
Sam concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, letting her instincts and her skill give her the edge. Gradually she started overtaking her double.
“North,” Sam shouted hoarsely, throwing herself over the side of the next building. Her feet thumped solidly against the rooftop, then she regained her balance and kept running.
“Affirmative,” Novak replied, sounding exactly as he had long minutes ago when the chase had first begun. “We’re close to your position now, Sam. Just keep her moving.”
Sam leaped another alley, losing sight of her double for just an instant. She hit the other building’s rooftop and sprinted forward, not seeing the woman’s leg come shooting out of the darkness around the side of a HVAC unit on top of the building until it was too late.
Raising her hands to at least partially block the kick, Sam grabbed the leg, tripped herself and went back and down. She hung on to her opponent’s leg and twisted violently, bringing the other woman down with her. Rolling away, Sam shoved up to her feet. She was winded and hurting. A small cut over her left eye wept blood down into her eye, and part of the world turned black.
The woman attacked, using everything she knew. It was all Sam could do to keep her face from being broken up and to stay upright. She swept her arm out, blocking a punch, then came back with a reverse punch that slammed into her opponent’s face at the same time a back kick hammered her stomach. Her breath left her lungs in a rush. Black rimmed her vision.
“Are you finished then?” the woman asked.
Using everything she had, Sam straightened. “No.”
“You are.” Her double grinned confidently and wiped blood from the corner of her mouth. “If you make me kill you, I will. Don’t doubt that.”
“I don’t.” Sam stared into that face that was so much like her own. The whole experience was too strange. If the pain hadn’t already numbed her to anything else, the surreal quality of the situation would have.
“They have blocked the way ahead of me, yes?”
“Yes.” From the corner of her eye, Sam saw two shadows leaping across the rooftops in their direction. Evidently two of the SEALs had found egress to the rooftops.
“I can still get away,” the woman said. “I will go through you if I have to.”
“You haven’t been able to so far.”
“How did you get my face?”
“I was going to ask you the same question,” Sam said.
“It’s a pity,” the woman said. “You’re almost as pretty as me. This will almost be like destroying myself.”
Too late, Sam realized that the woman’s words weren’t egotistical. They were said to distract her, to work on any hesitation that she herself carried, and to enhance any insecurity.
The woman feinted, then launched into an all-out attack that drove Sam backward. Sam fought defensively, staying as small and as pliable as she could, trying not to stand forcefully in the woman’s way. Getting a broken arm or a leg or a skull fracture wouldn’t just end the fight, it would also effectively end her chances of doing any real good going undercover in the Russian operation.
It would end her chances of finding the Cipher. The assassin would get away with Rainy’s death.
For a time Sam held her ground. Knowing that all she had to do was hold her ground because the clock worked against her opponent. Every second, the SEALs got closer, the net grew tighter. Then, a foot seemed to come from nowhere and landed against her jaw. Sam’s head whipped around and a nova erupted inside her skull.
“I’ve got her in my sights,” a man’s voice said over the ear transceiver. “I’ve got the shot.”
“Take her down,” Novak ordered.
“No,” Sam yelled weakly. An image of the woman’s face exploding from a bullet filled her dazed mind. She didn’t want to see the woman who wore her face die. The thought sickened her in ways she was not prepared for.
Sam’s double hit her again, knocking her to the ground. Then the look-alike was off like a shot, sprinting for the nearest side of the building. Two steps from the building’s edge, she stumbled but kept going. Sam pushed up and threw herself after the woman.
“I hit her,” the SEAL radioed.
“Damn it,” someone else said. “She’s headed for the edge.”
The look-alike stumbled again as she tried to leap from the building. Her legs turned rubbery and she fell over the side, her legs dragging.
Sam threw herself down and reached for the woman. The four-story drop promised nothing but sudden death or a trip to intensive care.
Blindly, guided by instinct and desperation, Sam caught the woman’s foot as she fell. When the weight hit the end of her arm, Sam felt certain her shoulder was going to be torn from its socket and the sudden impact with the roof’s edge was going to crush her chest. If nothing broke, she was still in for heavy bruising. She cried out in pain. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to hold on long. The woman was dead weight at the end of her arm. She could feel the woman already sliding from her grip. Managing to get her other hand around the slim ankle she held, Sam only forestalled the inevitable.
Then Riley was there, dwarfing her with his size. He reached down and took hold of the woman. Immediately the look-alike’s weight lessened. Sam kept hold with both hands.
“It’s okay, Sam,” he said. “You can let go. I’ve got her.”
“Don’t drop her,” Sam pleaded. What would it be like to see the woman dead? Would she still look like her, or would she look like someone else?
And how the hell did she get my face?
“I’m not going to drop her,” Riley promised. “I’ve got her. Let go.”
“No.”
“Damn, but you’re stubborn.”
“I can’t,” Sam whispered. “I can’t let her go. I can’t let her fall.” She didn’t know where that impulse came from, but she knew it was true.
“All right, then, let’s pull her in. On three.” Riley counted quickly. On three, they pulled the woman to the rooftop just in time for a SEAL with a short tranquilizer rifle to kneel down and put disposable plastic handcuffs on the woman.
Sam finally let the woman go then. She sat with her back against the rooftop and ached all over.
“Don’t get too comfortable, St. John,” Riley said. “We’ve got to get you up and running. Someone’s going to miss her soon. Either you’re in place or we scratch this phase of the mission.”
Minutes later in the back of the truck the SEALs used as a command vehicle, Sam unbuttoned the woman’s shirt and started stripping her. The unconscious state the woman was in made handling her and getting the clothes off almost impossible. She had to cut the disposable cuf
fs from her.
“What are you doing?” Riley asked.
“I need her clothes,” Sam said. “If I return to the hotel in a different outfit, someone may notice.”
Riley swore. “I didn’t think about that.”
“I thought you were the one with the plan,” Sam stated sarcastically. “Did you think maybe we were going to coordinate outfits for the kidnapping?” She tugged on the shirt again. “Help me.”
They worked by flashlight. Once they had the woman’s shirt off, Riley handcuffed her again, putting her hands in front of her this time and securing the cuffs to an eyebolt set into the metal frame of the truck’s cargo area.
Sam knew that Riley was uncomfortable and embarrassed by the way he handled the sleeping woman’s body. At first Sam enjoyed that, watching Riley totally out of his depth as they took her double’s pants off, leaving her clad only in a silky emerald bra and bikini panties that emphasized her slender figure and milky pale skin.
“Damn, St. John,” Riley whispered hoarsely. “She really could be you.”
Sam silently agreed. The woman was a match for her, so it might as well have been her lying there nearly naked, unprotected and vulnerable. She suddenly felt everything she was certain the woman would have felt if she’d woken and seen them looking at her. Riley stared at the woman, and Sam didn’t know if it was her double’s nakedness or likeness that kept him glued to the sight of her.
“And you know we look that much alike because you’re seeing her nearly naked?” Sam started to ask when he could have possibly seen her naked, then she remembered the constant surveillance she’d been under in her cell. The thought of Riley watching her through the cameras with the night-vision capability made her angry, but the possibility also unexpectedly excited her.
And if he’d been interested in watching her in the shower, the fact that he’d been able to spurn her attempted seduction said a lot.
Riley looked up at her with a guilty expression that quickly disappeared. “I’m just saying that the resemblance is even more noticeable now.”
“I’m going to do us both a favor and not ask what makes you think that.” Sam took an army blanket from the supplies the SEALs had in the truck and covered the sleeping woman. She used a sanitized cloth to clean the blood from the woman’s face.
“I’ve seen the inside of your lip,” Riley said. He had helped her clean up after the fight. “I think you need a couple of stitches.”
Sam had felt the cut on the inside of her lower lip with her tongue. Her lip was puffy from swelling and the edges of the wound felt raw and jagged. She agreed with Riley’s assessment, but she knew medical help was impossible.
“We can’t,” she said as she continued her ministrations. Although they’d been opponents only moments ago, the act of helping the tranquilized woman brought Sam an unexplained peace. The beating she’d taken was going to be noticeable. Medical attention would be immediately suspect.
“She’ll be all right,” Riley said. “She’s sleeping because of the drug. Not because of something you did.”
“I know.”
Riley stood and walked a few steps away. Trying hard not to be noticed, he checked the time. Full night had sprung upon the city outside the truck. They still didn’t know if her double had been going somewhere important when they’d intercepted her, or merely out for dinner and drinks.
Aching and battered from the fight, Sam stood as well. “Do me a favor, McLane. Let me change clothes and I’ll get to the mission.”
Riley turned to look at her. “What you’re about to do, Sam…” He hesitated and looked at the drugged woman lying on the cot against the wall. “It’s dangerous.”
“That’s hardly a news flash.”
“I know. But if you want to pull out of this thing, now would be the optimum time.”
“Is that what you want me to do?” Sam stared at him.
“I don’t want you hurt.”
“Is that the real answer?” Sam asked. “Or are you just more afraid that I’ll screw up your operation?”
“This is risky, Sam. It’s more than you’ve ever been asked to do. More than you’ve been trained to do.”
“Stepping into potentially hostile situations where I can’t count on anybody but myself?” Sam arched a brow. The effort hurt and caused her headache to pound. “That’s what I’ve been doing all my life, McLane. You’ve seen my background. You know that. I only thought things had changed when I signed on with the Agency.” She paused, knowing she’d scored with her barbed comment. “I’ll be fine. I’m back where I belong, not trusting anyone and suspicious of everyone I come in contact with.”
“Hell of a way to live your life,” Riley growled.
“I didn’t pick it. And, just so you know, getting locked up by you and Mitchell just reemphasized something I should never have let myself forget.”
Sipping a long, slow breath, Riley nodded and said, “I had that coming.”
“Yes.”
Riley looked at her. “You changed your life for a while. You had—have—your friends from school.”
“Yes.”
“You might want to rethink risking all of that.”
Sam looked at him, uncomfortable with his attention now. “Tell me the truth.”
“What?”
“Is the Cipher really connected to the Russians? Or is he just the carrot you dangled to get me here?”
Riley gazed at her. “He’s connected to this, Sam. Just like I said he was.”
“Then I’m going,” Sam said. “The Cipher killed one of my friends. I’m going to shut him down.” She paused. “Now give me some time to get dressed.” She turned away from him and picked up the woman’s clothing.
A moment later she heard him walking toward the end of the truck. Taking a deep breath, she pushed aside her fear over what she was about to step into, and she boxed the hurt that Riley had caused her. When she was safely in neutral, where she was aware of the pain in her body but not truly feeling it anymore, she pulled her top off and started getting undressed.
Stepping from the back end of the truck parked in an alley on the other side of Suwan, Riley joined Novak against the alley wall. The SEAL team commander looked ready and alert.
The SEALs kept a tight perimeter on the alley. Few of them were in sight. They had a way of blending in with their surroundings. Riley’s past experiences with the special forces warriors had taught him that.
“She’s going,” Novak said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah,” Riley said, confirming the SEAL team commander’s suspicion.
“We wouldn’t have caught her double if it hadn’t been for her.”
“I know.”
“You’re worried about her.”
“Hell, yes.”
“She’s good at what she does. She took that woman on after she put two of my guys down. Thomsen’s going to have to be medi-evaced out of here.”
“Sam’s good, but she hasn’t ever gone undercover before.” Then Riley remembered what Sam’s files had revealed to him. Actually, she’d been preparing for undercover work all her life.
“She’ll do all right,” Novak said. “If not, she has us. All she has to do is hit the panic button.”
“Yeah, well, the cavalry sometimes gets there too late.”
“Not in my movies,” Novak said.
A few minutes later, Sam stepped down from the back of the truck. If Riley hadn’t handcuffed her double in the truck, he would have sworn the woman had somehow escaped.
Riley walked over to her and studied her face. She was bruised and bloodied, her face swollen. He checked her eyes. Both pupils looked the same size, so there was a good chance she didn’t have a concussion.
“How are you feeling?” Riley asked.
“Like I was hit by a truck.”
Riley hesitated, not knowing what to say.
“I don’t have time for a long goodbye, McLane. Neither of us do.”
“I know.”
&n
bsp; “Then I’m going.” Sam shouldered the bag they’d recovered that the woman had dropped, back when the young SEAL had first confronted her. She turned and started moving.
“Be careful,” Riley admonished.
She stopped for a moment. “I will.” She turned around to look at him. “If I call for help, don’t be late.”
“Bet on it,” Riley said.
“I am.” Without another word she walked to the end of the alley.
“That,” Novak said, walking over to join Riley, “is one hell of a woman.”
“I know.”
Out at the street, Sam flagged down a taxi, got in the back, and was gone in the space of a drawn breath.
The hotel suite was exquisite. The bath had an old-fashioned claw-foot tub, a shower and a whirlpool, settled into Italian marble the color of coffee with cream. The bed was a four-poster affair with a white linen canopy. The desk contained a notebook computer that, unfortunately, gave no clue to what Elizabeth Harris was up to. Or who she was doing it with. The kitchen area was well stocked and contained fresh vegetables and fruits.
Sam hadn’t been able to tell what room her double had been assigned from the computer keycard, and the information Riley had gotten from Fayed hadn’t revealed that. Before entering the hotel, she had thrown the keycard in the trash across the street, then told the desk clerk that she’d been mugged and had lost her key.
The desk clerk had no problem believing her story and had promptly re-encoded a fresh set of keys. The hardest part had been keeping the man from calling the police.
She’d spent the first fifteen minutes checking the room over, making certain that there were no bugs. Satisfied, she’d gone to the bathroom, stripped out of the clothes and showered. She’d wanted a bath more than anything, but she wouldn’t allow herself the luxury, afraid that she’d climb into warm, soapy water and not crawl out again.
She focused on the Cipher, remembering how the man had looked in the pictures she and Howie Dunn had found and the video footage from the Athena Academy. If Riley wasn’t lying to her, the assassin was out there somewhere in the city.