by L. T. Ryan
Clarissa shook her head and laughed. "That makes it OK?"
"It was only a scare tactic. I never meant to harm you."
"Say it enough times and I might believe it," Clarissa said.
Sinclair licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing.
She raised her eyebrows and held out her hands. "What is the question?" She stared into his eyes, beckoning him to answer.
"Perhaps," he said, "I should explain some things."
"Oh, this should be good," Clarissa said. "Please, explain away."
"Child, I'm not who you think I am."
"Then why the hell did you knock me out to get me here?"
"I admit, I did sedate you, but for your own good and only to get you here." He paused, his eyes wide and focused on her. "Would you have come on your own accord?"
"No," she said without hesitation. "And if you want to ask me if I want to leave, the answer is yes."
"I'm not asking you that. Not yet, anyway." He stood up and paced the room along the far wall. "Clarissa, you left quite an impression on me. I've never seen anyone stand up to the abuse you did." He stopped and smiled at her.
She didn't smile back.
"Right," he said. "Well, I've not been able to forget that." He pulled the empty chair out of his way and placed his hands on the table. He leaned over, placing his face close to Clarissa's. "The work I did for the old man that night, that was simply contract work. I don't work for him. I work for..." he stood straight and walked to the door. Opened it and checked the hallway again.
"You work for?" Clarissa said.
He rounded the table and knelt next to her, placing his face next to hers, eye to eye. Brushed strands of her hair back behind her ears.
She fought back the urge to flinch.
He leaned in and whispered, "I work for the government, dear." He rose and leaned back against the wall behind Clarissa.
She didn't move. Didn't say anything.
"You see, I can't state exactly who for, but I lead a team," he paused a beat and then added, "a highly specialized team. And I find myself in need of another operator."
"You want me to give up Jack?" She said it too quickly. She knew he had nothing to do with this.
Sinclair laughed. "Jack, no. He'd never join us. And not for a lack of trying on my part. I recruited him heavy years ago when he was coming off his two years with, well, if you know, then you know. If not, I shouldn't say."
Clarissa nodded. She knew all about Jack's time with the government after he left the Marines.
"I need someone like you," he said. "No, I take that back. I need you."
"Me?" Clarissa turned halfway in her seat and looked up at him. She cocked her head to the side. "Why me?"
"You're tough, for one. Tougher than the men I have in this facility." He placed his hand on her shoulder again. "I don't think I've ever met someone as tough as you."
Clarissa smiled. One thing she prided herself on was her toughness.
"Sexy, too. And don't be modest and deny it. You are quite an attractive woman. You have the sultry look that all men desire."
Clarissa laughed. "Give me a break."
"Guess I should add humble too, shouldn't I?"
Clarissa rose. She braced herself, ready for him to force her back down or smack her, but he didn't. She sat on the table and faced him. "What would I do on this team?"
"Infiltrate," he said. "You'd be a spy, most of the time, at least."
"Infiltrate what?"
"I—you see, child, I can't say much more than that without giving away the nature of the team I lead." He touched his fingers to his mouth. "I just can't do that. You'd know too much and there are people in Washington who wouldn't be too happy with that."
"Washington?"
"See, just like that." He smiled. "I can't tell you any more without an answer."
"What's in this for me?"
"I'm sure you're tired of stripping."
"I'm an exotic dancer," Clarissa said without hesitation.
"Sure you are," he said. "Those men come to the club for your art."
She lowered her head, eyes focusing on the floor.
"I'm sorry," he said. "You've only done what you needed to do. I know this. Losing your father so young didn't help."
She shook her head.
"Again, I'm sorry."
"So, if I can't answer yet or just say no, are you going to hold me here?"
Sinclair shook his head and pointed over her shoulder. "There's the door. You are free to leave if you want to go."
She didn't move.
"I don't see why you would, though."
Clarissa crossed her legs and stared up at the stainless steel ceiling.
"What is the deal with the steel ceilings?" she asked.
"The man on the boat, you knew him as Mike," Sinclair said. "We put him there."
Clarissa's eyes snapped down and met Sinclair's. She focused on his good eye. "What?"
"A test."
"You put my life in danger."
"Had to. He was only to subdue you." Sinclair paced along the back wall. "We gave him orders that if you made him—submit—then he was to leave you alone. We lost our tracking in the open ocean."
"Did you tell him to try and rape me?"
"No," Sinclair said. "That wasn't part of his orders."
Clarissa smiled. "Well he didn't get to. And he's dead. Well, I assume he is. He was still alive when he fell into the ocean."
Sinclair shrugged. "No matter to me." He stopped in front of her. "It's what I expected. That's why you are here now."
Clarissa said nothing.
"Now, what do you say? Will you join us?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. I need to find out about Jack."
Sinclair nodded. "You are free to go."
"I want to think it over." She slid off the table and stood in front of him.
Sinclair reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped on the screen, placed the phone back in his pocket and smiled at her. He stood against the wall, hands in his pockets, with his eyes, both good and bad, on her.
Clarissa didn't move. She felt calm and wary at the same time. Could this be a set up? She didn't have anything else to offer as far as information went, unless they wanted Jack. But even then, she had nothing to give. She had no idea where he was or if he would ever return.
The door opened and a blond haired man stepped in.
"Mr. Montgomery," Sinclair said. "Will you escort Ms. Abbot to the house and see that she is set up in a guest room?"
"Yes, sir," Montgomery said.
Sinclair motioned to the door. Clarissa left with Montgomery.
"I'll be up to see you tonight, child," Sinclair called from the room.
7
Guards escorted Jack back to the courtroom. They stopped at the doorway. Jack walked through. The chairs had been returned to the table during his meeting with Ivanov. Pierre sat at the table, back straight and hands in his lap. Jack sat next to him. The men nodded at each other, but said nothing.
Ivanov entered the room and the door slammed behind him. Conversations quickly fell silent as the General took his seat at the bench. He leafed through folders and papers then looked up at the room. He spoke in Russian for a period and then looked back at the papers and went silent.
Jack looked to Pierre for interpretation. As expected, he got none.
"Mr. Noble," Ivanov said. "Rise."
Jack placed his hands on the table, took his time getting to his feet. He looked around the courtroom. All eyes were on him.
Ivanov dropped his head a few inches and glared. "Approach the bench."
Jack stepped to the side then walked forward, stopping three feet from the bench.
Ivanov leaned forward and motioned for Jack to step forward.
Jack did.
"Last chance, Jack," he whispered
He turned his head toward the empty jury box.
"You stand trial fo
r the murders of Grigori Dorofeyev, Fyodr Olkhovsky, and Mikhail Korzhakov," Ivanov said loudly so the rest of the room could hear. "How do you plea?"
"You forgot about Aleksandr and Viktor," Jack said. "The bodyguards."
Ivanov said nothing. His upper lip twitched and his face turned red.
"Although technically," Jack continued, "Viktor jumped in the ocean with a line tied around his waist. Aleksandr fell in shortly after. I tried to help, but the current, you know how strong the current can be at times."
Ivanov rose and pointed at Jack. "You will not make a mockery out of the murder of my men."
Jack smiled. "Too late."
"Plead," Ivanov shouted. "Now."
"I take full responsibility for the deaths of those men. I acted on my own accord. There is no one else in this courtroom that is guilty other than me."
It was a risk, but Ivanov had already tipped his hand. If there was any way to get both Pierre and himself out of here alive, Jack figured this would do it.
"Are you saying that the man at the table is innocent?" Ivanov's finger lingered in the air, pointing over Jack's shoulder at Pierre.
"Yes," Jack replied. "Pierre is innocent. I take full responsibility."
Ivanov shook his head at Jack. He mouthed something, but Jack couldn't decipher what the General was trying to say.
"Sit, Mr. Noble."
Jack turned and Ivanov said something else in Russian.
The courtroom fell silent. Pierre looked at Jack out of the corner of his eye and nodded slightly.
The door behind them opened. Jack turned. Two guards entered the room. They pulled Oscar by his elbows, led him past the table and to a seat next to the General's bench. The large man had marks on his face. His right eyelid was swollen such that it covered his eye completely. A bandage covered half his forehead. The thick hair on the sides of his head stuck out in every direction.
Did Oscar try to protect them?
"State your name," Ivanov said.
"Oscar."
Ivanov sighed. "Your full name."
Oscar blindly stared toward the back wall and didn't respond.
"It doesn't matter. We've already established your credibility." Ivanov looked past Oscar at Jack and Pierre. "Which man reached out to you to arrange the murders?"
Oscar's eyes slowly changed focus from the back of the room toward Jack and Pierre. He stared at Jack for a beat, then at Pierre. He returned his gaze to Jack and lingered there a few more moments.
"Well?" Ivanov said.
"Don't see him."
Ivanov leaned to the side and motioned with his hand to Oscar. "What kind of game are you playing?"
"Game?" Oscar said. "Not sure I follow."
"You told us a name before. You came to us with that name. Tell the court that name."
"You didn't ask for a name. You asked me to point out the man who contacted me." Oscar looked back at the courtroom, a slight smile pushing his chubby cheeks upward. "The man contacted me on the phone. Now tell me how I'm supposed to point him out?" He laughed as he finished his sentence.
Ivanov left the bench and pulled Oscar from his seat, shook him. "Give me a name, dammit."
Oscar stopped laughing. He placed his meaty hands over Ivanov's. The guards charged, separated the heavy man and the General, and threw Oscar to the floor. One knelt on his back and held a gun to his head.
"Last chance," Ivanov said. "Name the murderer."
"Pierre," Oscar said. "The man named Pierre arranged the hit with me."
"That's not true." Jack jumped up. "It was all me. I—"
"You will have your turn again, Mr. Noble," Ivanov said. "Sit down."
Jack stood motionless for a moment before returning to his seat.
"Get him out of here," Ivanov said.
Voices murmured throughout the room. Ivanov slammed his gavel to silence the courtroom. He pointed at Pierre. "Come up here."
Pierre did as instructed and stood before Ivanov's bench.
"Are you behind this or not?"
Pierre looked back at Jack, who remained expressionless.
"Look at me, Pierre," Ivanov said. "Answer the question, and keep in mind that if there are two of you, the sentencing might be more lenient. But if only one man," he nodded toward Jack, "is found guilty, then the sentence will be death."
"I," Pierre's voice shook, "had nothing to do with this. That man impersonated me to arrange the killings to fulfill his own agenda." Pierre's closed his eyes, kept his head high.
Jack smiled.
Ivanov rubbed his forehead. "Sit."
Pierre returned to the table and sat down. His shaking hands tapped on top of the table. The sound of his fast, laborious breathing filled the air between him and Jack.
"Relax," Jack said. "It's OK. I know what I'm doing."
Pierre shook his head, avoiding eye contact with the friend he just sentenced to death.
"Jack Noble," Ivanov said. "Approach."
Jack rose and moved toward Ivanov.
"Is everything this man said true?"
"Yes," Jack said. "One hundred percent true. I arranged it. I carried it out. I enjoyed it."
Calls for his life erupted from behind him. Jack smiled at Ivanov, who shook his head in response.
"You damn fool." Ivanov pounded the gavel into the wooden bench. "Return to your seat." Ivanov stood. "Fifteen minute recess." He left through the door behind the bench.
"Thank you, Jack," Pierre said. He finally looked over at Jack. His eyes red, cheeks stained with the remains of his tears.
"No need to thank me."
"You just gave your life for mine," Pierre said. "Of course I thank you."
Jack shook his head. "I'm not going to die." He looked around to make sure nobody was too close. "In his office, he asked me to work for him."
Pierre leaned in and raised an eyebrow. "Did you agree?"
"No," Jack said. "I figured this was the best way to go about it, get you out of here. I’ll take my sentence. Once I know everyone is in the clear, I'll accept his offer and book it back home."
Pierre nodded. Crossed his arms and leaned his head back. "What if it doesn't happen that way?"
Jack shrugged. He opened his mouth to speak, but the banging of the chamber door opening interrupted him.
Ivanov stepped through the door and took his place behind the bench. He never took his eyes off Jack. Occasionally he shook his head and muttered something under his breath. "Rise, both of you."
Jack and Pierre stood together.
Ivanov pointed to Pierre and waved him closer.
Pierre approached the bench, standing with his head tall.
"I find you not guilty," Ivanov said. "You are to be held in our custody until transport can be arranged back to—"
"Just take him to the airport," Jack said.
Ivanov pointed at Jack. "You'll get your turn."
Jack waved him off and sat down.
Ivanov returned his attention Pierre, trying to appear calm. His red cheeks and shaky voice betrayed him. "As I was saying, as soon as we arrange transport, you will be returned to Paris. Now sit."
Pierre nodded and returned to his seat, his eyes avoiding Jack.
Jack sensed his guilt and squeezed the man’s shoulder.
"Approach, Mr. Noble," Ivanov said.
Jack turned and looked at the faces in the courtroom. Half of them looked back. The other half looked away. Interesting how split they were at the prospects of looking into the eyes of a dead man. He took his time walking to the bench. When he finally stood before the Ivanov, he held his head high, cocked back. He looked above the General, not at him.
"Defiant till the end, eh?" Ivanov tapped his fingers on the bench. "Is that how you want to be remembered, Jack? Or is it better to say stupid until the end?"
Jack shrugged. "Sounds about right."
Ivanov looked past Jack and scanned the courtroom. "Jack Noble, I find you guilty for the murders of Dorofeyev, et al." He focused his gaze on
Jack again. "You are sentenced to death. You will await your sentence at Penal Colony number 6 Federal Penitentiary." A murmur spread throughout the courtroom. Ivanov added, "Also known as Black Dolphin."
Jack stood tall and said nothing.
"Have you ever heard of Black Dolphin, Mr. Noble?"
Jack still said nothing.
Ivanov smiled. "They say there is only one way out of Black Dolphin, Mr. Noble. Death. And I can assure you, death will be far more inviting than life in Black Dolphin."
Jack felt his face burn. Was this a power play? The only chance Ivanov was going to give him?
Ivanov raised an eyebrow, as if inviting Jack to say something.
Jack stared at the space above Ivanov's head and didn't say a word.
"Any last words before I make this official, Jack?" Ivanov asked.
Jack cursed at Ivanov and then spit on the floor.
"Take him away," Ivanov said. "Through there."
Two guards approached. One trained his gun on Jack while the other threaded a chain between the handcuffs on Jack's wrists. They forced him to the side of the room. Jack turned and nodded at Pierre. The Frenchman did nothing in return.
The guards led Jack through a door in the side of the courtroom and down a dimly lit hallway. They stopped beside an iron door and made Jack face the wall, legs spread. One guard unlocked the door, while the other leaned in next to Jack. "You'll be dreaming of this place once you are inside Black Dolphin."
Jack turned his head.
The guards pulled him back and threw him through the open doorway, into an empty room.
"We'll be back for you soon," one of them said.
The door closed. Jack scooted back to the wall, reached into his pocket for a cigarette, but found it empty. "Dammit," he muttered.
8
"You ready?" Charles asked.
"As I'll ever be," Alsonso replied.
Charles stepped through French doors onto the balcony overlooking Paris. He leaned against the railing. Watched the people pass below. Tourists, locals, whatever. Soon each would play their own part in the twisted web he was weaving.
"Who else should we bring?" Alonso asked.