It would last her a lifetime.
By the time it was dark the other visitors had long since gone.
Kate didn’t want to leave. It felt like she would be deserting him, leaving him all alone in the night. But she could see the caretaker waiting by the door of the reception area, a finger flicking the keys at his belt. He obviously didn’t want to be rude and ask her to leave, but it was past closing time.
In the gathering darkness Kate made her way across the grass and then the asphalt path to where the caretaker stood, waiting to let her out so he could lock up.
She was staring off into her thoughts of Jack as she walked past the caretaker. He reached out and gripped her upper arm to stop her. Beyond the man’s filthy tan shirtsleeve, she saw the sign on the door marked EXIT.
Something had been handwritten under the EXIT sign with a grease pen.
It said Not anymore.
Kate looked over into his eyes. They were the eyes of a stone cold killer. The eyes of the devil.
“We don’t often get visited by an angel here,” he said with a wicked grin. The grin faded as he leaned closer, peering into her eyes. “Do I know you? You look … familiar, somehow.”
Kate’s thumb on the assist button snapped the blade of her knife open.
“I should look familiar,” she said, “especially in this place.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because I’m the angel of death.”
CHAPTER
SIXTY-ONE
“It’s for you,” the flight attendant said, holding out the handset of one of the three phones on the bulkhead.
Seeing that it was the secure line, Dvora sprang up from the thick leather chair and took the handset.
“This is Dvora.”
“It’s Gilad,” the voice on the other end said.
“Gilad.” She was suddenly tense. “How did it go?”
“Kate Bishop was right. We caught the man before he could get to our embassy in Sweden. He had a bomb in the hollowed-out seat of his rusted, red moped, just as she said he would.”
Dvora let out a sigh. “Kate Bishop just saved yet more lives. Jack never before found a subject quite like her.”
“Yes,” he agreed, “she is for sure a remarkable woman.”
“I’m glad I had some time to get to know her a little better.”
“Me too,” Gilad said. “She has a warrior’s heart.”
Dvora knew why he was calling. She wished she had better news. She waited, listening to the constant, muffled roar of jet engines. The monitor on the bulkhead said they were at an altitude of forty-two thousand feet with a time to destination of just over five hours. Out the window, the setting sun behind them was mostly hidden by a haze of clouds far below. The surface of the ocean glowed golden in the late-day light.
“So how is he doing?” Gilad finally asked. “Any change?”
Dvora looked over at the bed locked down along the side of the cabin. An assortment of equipment stood clustered at the head of the bed, near the bulkhead, all of it alive with a steady stream of information. Lights blinked, green lines blipped in spikes, numbers flashed. Every once in a while, the blood pressure cuff inflated. She looked at the slow, steady rhythm of the heart monitor.
“I think the same.”
“No better?”
Dvora appraised the collection of tubes coming out of the side of his chest, the PICC line in his upper arm, the bags of fluids hanging over him with lines running to both wrists, all the information on the monitors, and the ventilator helping him breathe. Two nurses sat below the equipment, monitoring it continually and hanging full bags of fluid when needed. The doctor was resting in one of the jet’s plush, tan leather seats opposite the bed.
The doctor looked up at her. She lifted out the handset as if to say Gilad wanted a report. The doctor shook his head.
“No, I’m afraid not,” Dvora told Gilad. “His condition is the same.”
“But he is still alive,” Gilad said, sounding as if he insisted on it.
“Still alive,” Dvora confirmed. “Jack Raines is a hard man to kill.”
“This is good news,” Gilad decided. “They did not expect him to live even this long. So this is good news.”
Dvora didn’t want to let him read too much into it. “Listen, Gilad, Dr. Lewin warned me again that Jack will likely never come out of the coma, and even if he does, there is no telling how long his brain was deprived of oxygen so there is no way to know if Jack Raines is still Jack Raines, or if he ever will be again. Dr. Lewin knows full well how important Jack Raines is, and he’s keeping a constant watch, but he doesn’t sound optimistic.”
“But Jack is still alive,” Gilad said again, the insistence still in his tone.
Dvora smiled. “Yes, my friend, he is still alive.”
“When you get him to Tel Aviv, maybe the doctors there will be able to do more. They are remarkable. You will see. They will be able to do something.”
Dvora knew that while Jack might in fact live, it was likely that he would always be in a coma and on life support. From what Dr. Lewin had told her, people simply didn’t recover from the kind of injuries he had sustained, or from having their heart stop for as long as his had.
“Maybe,” she said, not wanting to crush his hopes. She changed the subject. “Have you told Kate Bishop that Jack is still alive?”
The jet engines droned on as she waited for him to answer. Out the window Dvora saw only what looked to be an endless expanse of ocean.
“No, I have not told her,” Gilad finally said. “I don’t have the heart to give her hope when there is so little.”
Dvora let out a sorrowful sigh. “I suppose it’s for the best.”
“For now, I think it is,” Gilad said. “We will get him back to Tel Aviv and let the best people we have see what can be done. They have a team standing by, waiting for you to get there.”
“I don’t think Dr. Lewin has slept for more than ten minutes at a time,” she said, looking down at the man. “He’s been by Jack’s side continually. He’s worried, Gilad—something about the fluid drainage. Even though the opening down the center of Jack’s chest does seem to be healing, Dr. Lewin says that as soon as we land he thinks they may have to open up his chest again and go back in.”
“If it is possible to save Jack, I know our people will do it.”
Dvora twisted the phone cord around her hand. “From your lips to God’s ear.”
“With the funeral and all those who attended,” Gilad said, “everyone believes Jack Raines is dead. That is what we need. Now, if we plant some seeds in the right places, word will leak out, then those who hunt him will also believe he is dead and buried. Having everyone believe Jack Raines is dead is the best way to protect him.”
Dvora nodded. “You’re right. He’s too important not to do everything we can. Having the funeral to make people believe Jack died was the best thing to do. But if he recovers, he’s too important to let anything happen to him.”
“We won’t let anything happen to him,” Gilad assured her. “Jack Raines is again a ghost. He was always good at that. We will help keep it that way. He will once more be off the grid, so even if he lives, no one will know anything about him. As far as anyone is concerned, as far as anyone but us knows, Jack Raines no longer exists.”
Dvora laid a hand on Jack’s arm as she looked down at him. It would be good to have him be safe. She didn’t know if he would ever come out of the coma, if he had brain damage, or if he would ever be himself again, but if they had to, they would care for him in return for all he had done for them.
He would be safe from those who hunted him.
And if he did recover …
“Agreed,” Dvora said. “Jack Raines will once again be a ghost.”
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