She sat there, quiet, and stared at Holden. He returned the stare momentarily and then looked over at Johanne.
“I guess we should go. Get Garrett down here.”
Holden rose to leave. “Good day Ma’am.”
He turned and headed for the door, Johanne falling in behind.
“You would really do it. I mean you would leave me here with him?” she asked nervously.
Both Holden and Johanne stopped and turned around.
“Of course we would, Holden said. “You’re nothing but a ruthless killer, a machine. I have no reason to respect you. What do I care if he comes down here and tears you up? He’s not working with us anyway, so I suppose anything he did we couldn’t be blamed for. Hell, we might allow him to leave with you, and dispose of you the way he did Simon.”
“What do you want to know?” she relented.
“Just a couple of things, mostly reconfirm what you told this Garrett fellow earlier. Should we stay?” Frank asked.
The killer nodded and Holden strolled back over to the table. He took his seat and leveled a stare at the woman seated across from him.
“First I would like to know what you know about the Soviets.”
“Only that they were to be killed,” she answered.
“Do you know why?” Holden continued.
“I heard some talk that they had been approached by our clients and had refused to cooperate with them.”
“Good,” Holden nodded, “ Now, what about this contact in Macau?”
“I already told this Garrett fellow about him,” she snapped.
“You have nothing to add. Nothing at all?” Johanne jumped in.
“Only that if you send someone over there to look for him, they won’t be coming back,” she fired back defiantly.
Frank nodded and remained silent for a moment. He put his hands on the table and rose, getting ready to leave. Making her think that it was almost an afterthought, he asked, “You been to Washington, DC recently?”
The ploy worked; he had caught her off guard. The look in her eyes told him what he wanted to know. He decided to press his luck. “How about Atlanta during the Olympics?”
Again, her eyes betrayed her.
“See you around,” Frank said as turned and left the room. Johanne followed him out the door.
“What do you think Frank?” he asked.
“You saw her eyes, what do you think?” Holden answered.
“I think you just found your connection. I have a feeling that our suspicions on the other issues will be born out, too.”
Frank nodded, “Johanne, I only hope we can resolve all this without starting a war. I’ve got to get back and tie up some loose ends. Thanks for all your help.”
Frank offered his hand to his friend who took it. He left the three Interpol agents down in the bowels of the building and headed back to his hotel. With any luck, they would be able to meet again soon, hopefully to celebrate success in short circuiting a war.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Kit was sitting at her hotel room table, drinking a fresh cup of coffee. It had been two days now since the meeting with her fellow officers. After she had left her headquarters, she had decided to check into a hotel, opting not to return to the safe house, just in case she was being followed. Besides, Garrett had needed his rest. She sat the paper aside and pulled the phone close to her. She dialed a number, and listen to it ring several times before it was picked up at the other end. No one spoke.
“Garrett?” she inquired.
“Kit? Is that you?” It was Garrett.
“You took so long to answer. Are you all right?”
“Yeah. You caught me coming out of the shower. Sorry about that. Is everything OK?” he asked.
“Yes, Garrett. Everything’s fine. I figured I’d give you a couple of days to rest. Are you all right?”
“I feel better than I have in weeks. Thanks for giving me the space,” he added, intending the dual meaning.
“Are you up for getting together today?”
“Yeah, Kit. That would be great. How about lunch?”
“Lunch would be good,” she replied. “There’s a café two blocks north of you called Le Brun. I’ll meet you there at half past noon.”
“OK. See you then,” Garrett answered, hanging up the phone.
Kit set the receiver down and stared at the phone for a moment longer. She was beginning to have feelings she hadn’t allowed herself to feel for quite some time. “What am I thinking?” she asked herself. “He walked out on me years ago. Why would I even contemplate giving him another chance?” She got out of her chair and went into the other room and drew a bath. When the tub was full, she got in and let the warm water envelope her, welcoming the feeling of comfort and security.
A few hours later, cleaned and dressed, Kit left the hotel and headed to the metro. The trip to the restaurant wasn’t far, and fifteen minutes later she approached the entrance. Garrett was sitting at one of the sidewalk tables, reading a paper. When he saw Kit, he folded the paper and rose to greet her. They embraced for a moment and took their seats at the table.
“You look great,” Garrett offered.
“Thanks. It’s amazing what a couple days of rest will do for you,” she replied. “You look relaxed.”
Garrett sighed, “Kit, this whole sordid affair has weighed heavy on me, perhaps more than I had realized. I’m getting too old for this shit.”
Kit started laughing.
“Old? she questioned. “Garrett Adams thinks he’s getting old? Of all the people I know, I never thought I’d ever hear you say that.”
Garrett looked across the table at his lunch date.
“She’s really amused,” he thought to himself. Garrett cracked a smile, too, and continued thinking. “It’s good to see her laugh, even if it is at my expense.”
“I’m glad to provide you with your lunchtime entertainment, Madame,” Garrett said, bowing his head.
“Oh, Garrett. Don’t be so sensitive. You are such an enigma. A few days ago, you were almost single handedly destroying a ring of assassins, and today you appear to be this poor vulnerable soul, worried about getting old. It’s almost too much for a woman to take,” she responded tongue in cheek.
“Driving you nuts, am I? Guess you know how we men feel about you women folk.”
That comment brought a napkin flying across the table in response. Their playful banter was momentarily interrupted by a waiter. Both ordered tea and their lunches. After the waiter left, Kit became more serious.
“Are you O.K. Garret?” she asked sympathetically. Tears started to well up in Garrett’s eyes again, just as they had several times over the past few days.
“Yeah, I’m O.K.”
“I can tell she must have meant a lot to you,” Kit continued, placing her hand on his.
“They both did,” Garrett answered, “But yes, she did mean a lot to me; at least for a while.
“Tell me about her.”
Garrett looked down at the table, then back up at Kit.
“She reminded me a lot of you, actually; just more domesticated. I felt alive and stimulated but no one was shooting at me or chasing me or anything. It was just that way being with her.”
Kit nodded in understanding.
Garrett continued. “I thought I wanted to spend my life with someone like that, but I know now that that kind of life just isn’t in the cards for me. As far as my friend Charles. What can I say, except he was my friend.
“That says it all to me,” Kit said.
Garrett took her hand and squeezed it. The weather was unseasonably warm for this time of year and it was hard to ignore the romantic mood of the city. The waiter returned with their orders. Kit’s and Garrett’s conversation changed to lighter subjects. They talked and laughed all through
their meal, both trying and sometimes succeeding in forgetting the happenings of the past few days, and neither daring to dwell on where there they would be spending the next few weeks. No, today was an island in time. Garrett remembered that this is how it had been when he was in the field. You had to grasp the moments of leisure, because the rest of the time you had to have all of your defenses up, your fight or flight responses piqued almost constantly. The meal ended and the two left the café, arm in arm, heading towards the safe house. It had been years, but that afternoon, they would be transported back to a time when their lives were intertwined like the vines on the hillsides of Bordeaux.
* * *
Evening was giving way to the darkness of night as Garrett tucked his shirt in. Kit approached him from across the room of the apartment and hugged him.
“Don’t be too long,” she said as she kissed him on the mouth. “I want to get as much of this as I can, while I can.”
“I’m just going to get some food and Champagne,” he responded. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, so just hold that thought.”
Garrett left and headed down the street towards the shopping district. His thoughts drifted back to the time when he had first met Kitten. He had been stationed in Berlin near the end of the cold war, gathering information on eastern bloc agents. There was a lot of activity in the intelligence communities on both sides of the iron curtain at the time. One day, he had received orders to make contact with one of his adversaries in East Germany. The point of the trip was to try and turn the German, make him a double agent. The trick would be getting into East Germany, making contact without being killed, and then getting out.
Everything had gone according to plan. He had gotten into East Berlin and made contact at a tavern near the eastern zone of the city. It was there that he first met Kitten. She was working as a waitress, undercover unbeknownst to him. His meeting with the German agent was about to conclude when an eerie feeling came over him. Garrett looked around the room. A chill shot down his back, when he recognized a Russian agent across the room staring at him in recognition. Garrett panicked, looking for a way out of the building. By that time, the Russian was approaching him through the crowded room. Garrett was frozen momentarily, uncertain of his route out of the establishment. Then he had spotted it, a door that led out the side of the building into an alley. The Russian was barely ten feet away when Garrett started to get up from the table. Suddenly, one of the waitresses stepped between the two and accidentally spilled her tray of beer against the pursuer. Garrett jumped towards the exit and upon reaching it, turned to look back. The girl was looking at him. Their eyes locked, and he knew instantly that her spilling the tray had been no accident. He left the building and, heading north, had managed to get back over the border without incident, his curiosity still piqued over the mystery woman.
About eight months later, he was at a social function hosted by one of the embassies in Bonn, when across the room, he saw the same woman, again. He immediately made his way towards her, noting her striking profile, as he approached her. When he was but a few feet away, she turned towards him and once again, their eyes met. From that night on, for the next three years, the two agents shared as much time together, as they could, each finding escape from their chosen profession, in the other. Now they had found each other once again. Garrett paid the clerk and, grabbing his bags, headed back to the apartment, continuing to remember another time, and what seemed like another life.
The next morning, Garrett woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast. Kit must have gotten up early and gone shopping. He rolled out of bed and went to join her in the kitchen. Kit smiled when she saw that he was awake.
“You’re getting used to this life of leisure awfully fast,” she told Garrett.
“Yes, but this is the first time in years that I don’t have anything to get up for.”
Kit feigned a hurt look, “Nothing? What about me?”
“You know what I mean.”
More seriously, Kit went on.
“Garrett, we need to talk.”
“Vacation’s over already, huh?” Garrett replied, the disappointment coming through in his voice.
“I’m afraid so. I’ve got the task of chasing down the Hong Kong contact.”
Garrett slammed his cup on the counter. “Why you Kit? Haven’t you done enough already?”
Putting down her cooking utensils, she looked at Garrett and replied, “Garrett, it’s my job. Besides, I was inside Simon’s organization. It may make it easier for me to make contact and get somewhere with this.”
“Get somewhere, or get killed. I don’t like this Kit.”
“I know that you’re trying to protect me and I love you for it, really I do, but I can take care of myself, Garrett. I always have and I always will.”
“I’m sorry,” he replied. “I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t. You’re a professional and always have been.” He took her hand. “I guess I’m just wishing we could have some more time together to relax.” He let go of her hand and picked up his coffee. Taking a sip, he asked, “You want some help on this one?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she replied, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. “Officially, no. But I would like you to meet me there and help on the slide. That is, if you haven’t made any other plans.”
Garrett feigned momentary contemplation. A bruise on his arm was his reward. Rubbing his shoulder, he smiled. “All right, I’ll come. When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow,” Kit replied. “We have some preparations to make first, though.”
They two sat and began to eat their breakfast as she filled Garrett in on the details.
* * *
The next morning, Kit and Garrett each made their way separately to the airport. They had decided that it would be best if no one saw them together, going so far as to book separate flights on different airlines. As Garrett got settled in his seat, he started thinking about what Kitten had told him about her meeting. It could have been fifteen years ago again. It seemed that back then, there was always the possibility of a war breaking out between the superpowers. Then, China had been content to sit things out for the most part. Now, it seemed that at least some in China wanted to break out and start exerting more influence than they already did.
If what Kit told him was true, if the Chinese or some rogues in their military did use the confusion on January 1, 2000 to cover some kind of strike, the war, that he and so many others had struggled for so long to avoid, would happen. The worst part, he thought, was that most everyone would be unprepared for the possibility. That’s when things can become the most dangerous and escalate out of control.
Garrett shuddered a little in his seat. What would have happened if, on that night so many months back, he hadn’t talked his friend into going out after a basketball game? How did he get from there to here, back to his former life? He could only shake his head in wonder and hope he could help Kit end this before anything serious got started.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Holden sat the file back on his desk. He looked out of his window at the gray November sky, noting that the color also portrayed his mood. All these months of investigating the leaks hadn’t produced a concrete lead until now. Only one of the suspected companies could have lent any expertise on lasers to the Chinese. But no matter how sure he was, he just couldn’t bring himself to believe it. It was a common reaction for him. Investigations could be very complicated and lengthy, often causing much anxiety and loss of sleep. Yet, every time one was concluded, there was the inevitable let down. It was as though every arrest took a part of his faith in his fellow man, crumpled it up, and threw it away. It was ironic that every time he was judged to be successful, he would actually feel badly. However, it was the life he had chosen and he had a duty to fulfill.
He picked up his phone and rang his secretary.
“Call Judge Pruitt’s office. We need to get an arrest warrant approved,” he said, secretly hoping he wouldn’t have to serve it. He hung his phone up, grabbed his overcoat off of the rack, and headed out of his office towards the parking garage.
Holden hadn’t had much of a chance to catch his breath since he had returned from Paris. Once back in town, he had almost immediately been called to the White House to brief the National Security Advisors on the happenings in Paris and the possible ramifications. The intelligence apparatus had immediately whirred into motion. Small groups of experts had been assembled to work on all possible strategies and responses. Some at the meeting had worried that making any kind of move on the individual leaking the information, would alert the Chinese. Frank had argued, successfully, that preventing additional leaks, with far graver circumstances for future security, far outweighed that risk. He had reasoned that even if the Chinese found out their source had been arrested, they would assume the U.S. government would consider it an isolated incident, and not make any connection to their other activities.
Since that meeting, he had been in his office going over one of the files, making sure he was correct. He hadn’t had time to call Atlanta and fill Nick Spanos in on what had transpired over the last week. Leaving the parking garage, he dialed the number and did that now.
“Nick? Frank Holden here.”
“Frank. How are you? I was hoping to hear from you soon. Any progress?” he asked.
“Yes. I just got back into town, Nick. Our man, Garrett, has been quite busy.”
Frank went on to explain what had happened regarding Garrett and concluded by relating his impression of his interview with the female assassin. He had been careful, only mentioning information related to Nick’s cases.
“I think she’s one of the women that you’re looking for, Nick. I think the other is dead,” Frank concluded.
“What about Garrett?” Nick asked.
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