A Dangerous Liaison - Part Two

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A Dangerous Liaison - Part Two Page 2

by Melanie Brooks


  Alec Reader.

  I turned the name over in my mind, feeling my skin rise up in goose bumps and my cheeks warm. Then I looked up and caught Gabriel’s eye. He was looking at me in that way again – like he could see straight through me.

  “At least we know he’s friendly now,” I said, trying to distract Gabriel.

  Cooper stood up.

  “Being an SAS grunt doesn’t make him friendly, Petra. This changes nothing.”

  I did a double take. What was wrong with Cooper? Now that we knew our man was an ex-SAS soldier who was protecting Americans, the chances of his being a terrorist of any kind were tiny. 9/11 had nothing to do with this. Cooper sounded like he had a personal agenda. Something he wasn’t telling us.

  I looked away from Cooper and pushed my hand through my hair.

  He sounded like he was scared of Reader. But why?

  “You’re don’t seriously still think he’s working for Mossad?” I said, turning back to him – feeling insanely angry.

  “Why not? Open your eyes, Petra. 9/11 changed everything. The old loyalties aren’t there now.”

  I couldn’t listen to another word of this rubbish.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it!” I shouted. Then I stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind me, and walked down the corridor, my eyes stinging. I stopped, leaned against the wall, and pinched my nose.

  What the hell was I going to do now?

  I bit my lip.

  I only had one option. Find Reader before Cooper did.

  “Everything okay?”

  I jerked around. It was Gabriel. He’d followed me out. I wiped my eyes. It was getting ridiculous how often I was crying. But his question was so dumb I laughed out loud.

  “Yeah, peachy.”

  He smiled back – looking concerned, looking like Gabriel.

  “Is there anything you want to tell me, Petra?”

  I felt my cheek twitch – no way could I have stopped it. I knew Gabriel would have noticed

  “How do you mean?”

  He sighed, like he was talking to an errant pupil.

  “I saw how you reacted when Sam brought in the photos. You recognized Alec Reader. And later you very nearly said he sounded American. Which of course you couldn’t know. Unless you’d already met.”

  I looked away, blinking through fresh tears.

  “I backed you, Petra,” said Gabriel quietly. “Did I make a mistake?”

  I turned back to him, my face screwed up. We looked at each other for a long moment.

  “I met him,” I said finally.

  Gabriel did the mother of all double takes.

  “What the fuck?”

  “I met him, before.”

  “From fucking where?”

  “I ran into him near the Pantheon.” Now that I’d decided to tell Gabriel, the words rushed out like water pouring over Niagara Falls. It felt so good to share this secret with someone.

  “Go on,” he said, his eyes fixed on mine.

  “I’d been doing some research in an Internet cafe. I’d found newspaper stories about a guy, fitting our mystery man’s description, saving American citizens in Rome for months. I was on my way to tell Cooper when I ran into Reader.”

  “You ran into him?” said Gabriel quietly.

  “Yes,” I said, not noting the dangerous tone in his voice at first.

  “What happened?”

  “I literally bumped into him going around a corner.”

  “What did you do?” he said in a harsh voice.

  I paused. I was sure my cheeks flushed a little as I remembered what happened next.

  Gabriel’s gray eyes bored into me.

  “My phone went off,” I said. “I looked down – and when I looked back he’d gone.”

  I knew it sounded bad. One, because I’d kept it to myself, and two, because I’d let Reader slip away in such a stupid way. A first-year rookie would have done better and I knew it.

  “And that’s all?” said Gabriel, his voice barely controlled now.

  “That’s all.”

  I tried to hold Gabriel’s gaze, but looked away after a couple of seconds. I wanted to tell him the truth – all of it. But I couldn’t. It sounded so stupid, so vague and ridiculous, when I tried to put it into words. I couldn’t explain how I’d felt when I’d first seen Alec Reader, without sounding like a lovesick teenager or a nut. Then on an impulse I didn’t understand I changed my mind. Maybe it did sound stupid, but I had to tell someone. I’d go crazy otherwise.

  “There’s more,” I said, watching for Gabriel’s reaction. “I know Reader. Not from running into him a few days ago, from earlier.”

  Gabriel’s face went dark.

  Maybe he thought I was working with Reader.

  I held up my hand.

  “No, Gabriel, it’s not what you think. Until a few days ago we really had never met. But somehow I know him. I have the strongest feeling that Alec Reader and I are linked, and that the link is crucially important to this case.” I didn’t say – and to me.

  I looked at Gabriel expectantly, hoping for some words of wisdom, some guidance. But the look on his face told me I’d made a terrible mistake confiding in him.

  “Jesus, Petra,” he spat. “What madness is this?”

  My throat went tight. I should have kept my mouth shut. Now I’d risked losing my only ally.

  “I’m sorry, Gabriel, forget it,” I said, wishing I could take back what I’d said.

  Gabriel opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Cooper poked his head out of the office door and glared at us.

  “Get your asses back in here. Alec Reader’s been spotted near Central Station.”

  Chapter 5

  Petra

  I was in the back of the car heading toward Roma Termini, Rome’s Central Station. Uzbeke was driving. Nichols, another agent, sat in the front passenger seat next to Uzbeke. Three more cars packed with Federal agents followed, and the Rome police had been alerted. Alec Reader had been spotted somewhere near the station, and Cooper had ordered us to find him – or not bother coming back.

  I looked though the window at the pedestrians on the sidewalk – blissfully unaware of the manhunt going on around them. I placed my forehead on the cool glass and closed my eyes.

  I couldn’t let Cooper get him, I wouldn’t.

  I opened my eyes and sat back in my seat. We were a few minutes away from the station. We pulled up at a set of traffic lights. Uzbeke and Nichols were watching the road ahead. I had the St. Christopher in my hand. I ran my fingers over it.

  Suddenly I knew I had to act now, before it was too late. Before Uzbeke and Nichols could react, I jumped out of the car.

  ***

  I ran into a side street, and then headed toward the station. I turned a corner onto a road called Via Marsala, which ran directly in front of Roma Termini, and stopped, dead.

  Alec Reader was standing on the sidewalk, his back to me, about to cross the road.

  I yanked out my gun, pointed it at a point between his shoulder blades, and shouted at the top of my voice:

  “Alec Reader!”

  He froze, then turned slowly to face me. The instant his eyes met mine I felt that connection again, like a wire had been pulled tight between us. I stood frozen in the middle of the crowded sidewalk, my heart hammering as if I’d just sprinted a hundred meters, my breath fast and shallow. I had a million questions, but my tongue was locked.

  I know you. I know you.

  The mantra circled around my mind. He looked at the wavering gun and then up at me. He was in a far worse state than when I’d last seen him. His face was a mask of controlled pain. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot.

  “I need to go,” he said finally. His voice was hoarse with effort.

  I was still holding the gun on him. But it was sweaty, and damp and slippery in my grip now.

  “Go where?”

  It seemed the least important of the questions I had to ask.

&nb
sp; He flinched like a boxer dodging a jab.

  “You know where. Someone is going to die if I don’t move now. I have to save them,” he said with absolute certainty.

  He looked capable of anything. Part of me wanted to let him go. Someone’s life depended on him. But I couldn’t.

  “I have to go,” he said, seeming to read my mind, the thick muscles in his neck cording as he spoke.

  Then someone pushed me from behind and I stumbled forward with my hands reflexively outstretched. Alec Reader sprung forward. His strong hands grabbed my arms, stopping my fall. The gun hit the sidewalk with a clatter. The instant we touched, a surge of white electricity shot through me, from his fingers to the tip of my toes. And the world disappeared.

  I was back on the beach in my dream, in the arms of my dream man. The sand cooled my toes, the fall breeze chilled my skin, but his arms warmed me. I felt safe and excited all at the same time.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  The words jerked me back to reality – back to the sidewalk. Alec Reader was already walking toward the road and the station. I stood with my hands limp by my side. I couldn’t have stopped him if my life had depended on it.

  Chapter 6

  Alec

  As I stepped off the sidewalk onto the road in my mind’s eye, I saw a vivid picture of a woman dressed in a gray business suit, falling in front of a train.

  The clock in my head said ninety seconds.

  Dammit. I was nearly out of time.

  I ran across the road holding my hand up to stop the traffic – but my thoughts were still with the girl. I knew she was an FBI agent but that didn’t explain why I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Or what had happened when she touched me.

  A car horn blared, yanking me out of my thoughts. I realized I was standing in the middle of the road. I shook my head. I had to get a grip, or that woman on the platform would die. As if to remind me of my duty, a severe pain lanced through my temple, making me gasp. I screwed up my eyes, waved at the queue of traffic that had built up, and sprinted to the station entrance.

  Fifty-five seconds.

  As usual I knew exactly where to go. The woman was on Platform 4A. Through the main entrance and 300 yards to my left, down a short flight of steps.

  Fifty seconds.

  I arrived at the platform covered in sweat, leaving a trail of disgruntled commuters, who’d been pushed out of the way, behind me. The platform was crowded with people waiting for the next train. But my internal satnav hadn’t let me down. I knew exactly where she’d be.

  She was about thirty, wore a gray business suit. She had dark hair cut in a bob. She was looking from the electronic timetable to her watch and back again. A big crowd had gathered on the platform behind her, pushing her right up to the edge of the platform.

  I cursed. Shit.

  Then a movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye. Pushed by some internal compulsion, I flicked my eyes to my left and froze. The cold-eyed killer was edging through the crowd toward the woman. He moved quickly and calmly – his eyes fixed on his prey. I took in the muscled shoulders and arms under the suit. The bulge of a gun under his jacket.

  A hit man.

  He’d reach her in seconds. He was more self-assured, more skilled, intelligent, and capable than the teenage thugs in the alley.

  Dammit

  A professional was worth a dozen teenage thugs. The hit man turned and met my gaze, paused for a moment, then looked away and pushed on toward the woman. The train was pulling up to the platform.

  I wasn’t going to make it.

  Out in the street, I shouldn’t have stopped when the girl called out. I could have slipped into the crowd before she had a chance to shoot. But I’d wanted to. The sound of her voice compelled me even more than my damn vision. For a long moment I’d been lost. Something important had happened. Something which called strongly to the deepest, most painful part of me. But I couldn’t remember what. In the end I’d only been able to carry on became she released me.

  The train was getting closer.

  I shook my head again. Was I not able to focus for more than a fucking minute? I clenched my jaws and ran, pumping my fists and driving, slamming my heels into the ground – hoping the pain would keep my mind on the woman I had to save. I’d had to throw caution to the wind – give up stealth. But it had cost. The hit man had seen me, and was heading fast now towards the woman on the platform.

  I ran. My bulk helped me drive my way through the crowds – palming people away left and right.

  “Merda!” they shouted.

  I wasn’t going to make it, my mind told me again.

  The train was pulling in to the station. The crowd along the platform stiffened, picked up bags, and edged closer still. The woman, oblivious to the danger she was in, did the same.

  I redoubled my efforts. But I was still twenty yards back and the killer was almost on her. Events were coming together with an irrecoverable force. The feeling that I wasn’t going to save her washed over me, bringing with it a wave of nausea.

  No!

  Then everything seemed to slow down. I saw the killer’s arm stretch out. His tanned hand, manicured nails.

  I seemed to see him with my eyes – now just a few feet in front of me, behind the last remaining people – and in my mind’s eye as well. Like double vision. It was disorientating. In my strange double vision I watched the killer place his hand on the woman’s back – pause – then push.

  I dived, pushing the last few people out of the way, screaming, “No!”

  The compulsion was stronger than ever. Somehow I knew it had something to do with the girl, the FBI agent. The killer’s hand was in the small of the woman’s back, pushing. She’d already lost her balance. She was lifting her arms up, trying to get her balance. The train was screeching into the station towards the platform. I jumped –knocking the last few people out of the way. I stretched out my hand, aiming to knock the killer to one side with my momentum, and grab the girl’s leg or her ankle before she fell under the wheels of the oncoming train.

  Then suddenly, as I stretched out my fingers, the station was gone. The woman was gone, and the killer, and the crowds. I was in a silent, white room, lying flat, looking up at a fluorescent strip light on the ceiling strobing on and off.

  I stopped breathing – completely disorientated.

  I took a deep breath. What the hell? The air was heavy with disinfectant. Then I remembered the woman on the platform. She was going to die. I had to save her. I made to get up but couldn’t move.

  I looked down, and saw that I was strapped to some kind of bench, and wearing a white hospital gown. I could hardly move a muscle – just my head and my left arm, which for some reason was free.

  I pulled at the straps.

  “You won’t break them.”

  I jerked.

  The voice was strangely familiar It was a woman’s voice. A girl’s, really. I turned my head and held my breath. Damn. It was her. The girl from outside the station. The one I’d ran into near the Pantheon. The one I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for the last four days. She lay next to me on a similar bench. It had white starched sheets on it. She was tied down with the same leather straps over her lower legs and upper body. She wore a white gown, like a hospital gown. My eyes ran over her, taking in every detail. In the back of my mind I wondered at the incredible detail in this dream. Her skin was pale, very pale, and smooth.

  I met her eyes. And the feeling that I knew her, that she was important to me, hit me again. As she looked at me, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Alec, it’s so good to see you.”

  I shook my head. What did she mean? My head was spinning so much I felt sick.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Of course you don’t understand.”

  There was a noise from the other side of the room.

  “Quiet over there – no talking.”

  She jerked at the voice – looking away and then back to me.

 
“Alec,” she said my name again like she’d said it a thousand times. “We don’t have much time.”

  She looked me in the eyes again. She had beautiful sapphire-colored blue eyes – that seemed to sparkle as she spoke.

  “You have to remember.”

  All I knew was that I had to save that woman. Somewhere she was about to get crushed under a hundred-ton train, and I was inches away from pulling her back the platform.

  I looked at this girl in front of me.

  “Remember what?”

  She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “I can’t tell you.” Then footsteps echoed from the other side of the room – quick and angry.

  “I told you to shut the fuck up.”

  She jerked her free towards mine.

  “Quickly,” she said, “take this.”

  I looked down, and did a double take.

  She was holding a small silver medallion.

  “Take it,” she said, “please.”

  I took it from her tiny hand, brushing her skin as I did.

  The second I did, I felt a needle shoved in my arm and everything began to go black.

  “Remember,” she said, as I lost consciousness. “I love you.”

  ***

  When I woke my hand was tightly clasped. I opened my eyes, and saw my hand was clamped around an ankle. The woman’s ankle. We were both lying flat on the platform. I must have pulled her back. I didn’t know how, but I had.

  A crowd had gathered. I felt someone help me up.

  Someone slapped me on the back.

  “Well done. You’re a hero.”

  “She would have died. No doubt about it.”

  “Third suicide attempt this year,” said another.

  They obviously hadn’t seen the killer. I snapped alert.

  Dammit. The killer.

  I checked left and right, up and down the platform. But there was no sign of him. I pushed myself upright and checked the woman.

  Then my head burst in pain and I fell to my knees.

  Chapter 7

 

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