“You want him dead?”
“Depends on whether he is still useful.”
“He’s amnesiac. He remembers nothing.”
Zaitsev sized him up. “Let’s face it. The man will die. There are too many sides gunning for him. If he is amnesiac, he’ll be killed to make sure he doesn’t remember. If he isn’t, one side will make sure he doesn’t fall into enemy hands, and the other might kidnap and torture him to compliance. Not that that little lawyer needs more than a few slaps to the face to make him grovel….”
“And your offer is?”
“Hand him over to us or kill him. I will make Voronin vanish, like he never existed.”
Chris offered a cold smile in reply. “You guys already took away my chance to do just that. I want a second shot. This time I’ll make sure to hit the target dead center. And nothing and no one will get in my way.”
“Very good. Name your price, Mr. Gibson. I’m sure you’ll have… expenses.”
“Five million American. I don’t come cheap. This bank account.” He scribbled a number on a piece of paper and handed it to Zaitsev. “When my bank informs me of the deposit, Voronin is a dead man.”
“I believe we have a deal, Mr. Gibson. My driver will take you back to your hotel.”
“I’ll get a taxi.”
Chris had a last quick drink at the bar, then went to his room and changed into workout clothes. The leg wound was starting to ache like a bitch, but he bypassed the painkillers. Once he got into the zone of a good workout, the pain would fade and his job planning skills would kick in to override anything that lingered.
The following day dawned cloudy and cool, a sharp contrast to the cheerful brightness of the hotel dining room overlooking a garden plaza. Andrei entered the dining room and retook his seat at the corner table he shared with John.
“You were right last night when you said it wouldn’t surprise you if Chris showed up. I saw him coming out of the elevator. If he’s headed this way, we should ask him to join us.”
“I suppose we could.” John paused as the waitress set down the entrees. He sprinkled a bit of pepper over his omelet. “If he comes in, I’ll ask him.”
Andrei studied John’s face for a little longer, then turned his attention to his food. He did hope the two men would sort out their difficulties some way, but maybe John simply needed more time to get his head around the new situation.
And he himself wondered if those faint impressions were all he was going to get back from his life. He’d helped launder or hide taxes for a Russian corporate baron. That was all he got. It didn’t seem worth dying over. They’d told him he had no family. Nobody to miss him. There was nothing for him if he walked away from this. Not that he wanted to walk away from John. The man was his anchor; he kept him sane, and Andrei was more than a little in love with him.
John looked up, made eye contact with Chris, and waved him over. Chris dropped a heavy sports bag at their table and pulled a chair closer. “What’s up? What’s the plan?”
“We were thinking to stroll down the street and walk to the Louvre today. We can just as well make the best of being grounded in Paris for the moment.”
“Sounds good. When are you leaving?”
“Twenty minutes or so.” John shrugged. “You want to come too?”
“No, I’m busy with something else.” Chris looked at Andrei, who found that gaze too cool and professional for his liking.
Chris ordered toast and coffee in a take-out cup.
“The leg better?” Andrei asked as he ate a bit of his own omelet.
“I’ll live,” Chris said in that no-nonsense way of his. He winked at the waitress who brought his order, then buttered his toast and took a single bite before standing. “I’ll catch you later.” He sipped the coffee, then flashed a wink and smile at John before breezing away as lightly as he’d arrived.
“That turns you on,” Andrei said, suppressing a smile.
“What?”
“That way of his, how he’s so flippant and focused at the same time.”
John cast his eyes down a moment. “He’s that way a lot, especially when he’s working.”
Andrei glanced over his shoulder. “You think he’s off on a job?”
John shrugged. “I suppose he might be, but with the leg, I doubt he’d be sent on one.” He finished his coffee, his brow creased.
Shit, the sports bag. Andrei turned around again, but Chris was out of sight already. “Why didn’t you become a couple?”
“I had a long-term boyfriend, and I’m monogamous. I’m just a bad liar, I guess. And I didn’t want to ruin the team. And finally, Chris goes through men and women like they’re fast food. One here, one there, I just didn’t want to be a box he ticks.”
“He wouldn’t. He loves you.”
John sighed. “You just seem the more steady guy.”
Andrei smiled and pressed his hand. “I’m glad I found you.”
“That’s another thing. Chris wouldn’t say anything like that. He never seems to mean anything he says.”
Andrei smirked. “Typical American, eh?”
John laughed. “I think I’ll not answer that one.”
They finished their meal and John signed the check, letting GORGON pick up the tab and leaving a nice tip for the smiling waitress. They stopped by the hotel shop to purchase an umbrella, which proved to be unnecessary when the sun chose to break through not ten feet from the hotel door.
John paused. “We should return this.”
“Let the company pay for it. They can afford it.”
John laughed and nudged Andrei’s arm. “You know, I’m surprised you and Chris didn’t hit it off better. You think alike at times.”
Andrei placed an arm around John for a few lingering moments, comfortable to be seen outside with a handsome man. He didn’t even think about it much. Whatever he’d done before, whatever his emotional life had been like, this felt good and he wouldn’t hide. “Truth be told, I like Chris. I wish….” He paused, then gave a small smile. “What you told me when I woke up… I wish that had been the truth.”
John stopped walking. “I’m sorry about that.” He breathed a quiet sigh. “Lying is a big part of the job, but sometimes, it seems unfair to treat people that way.”
Andrei stroked his cheek. “But I owe you my life, so the lie is erased.”
John leaned in to steal a kiss, then smiled and began walking toward their destination. By the time they’d walked another block, Andrei had decided this life would be infinitely better than the last. He couldn’t remember the mistakes of his past, but he felt certain some part of him did remember and could sense when things were changing for the better. Like now. His lack of close companions had been one choice, but now he knew better.
He glanced over at John. Perhaps they should pass on the museum for at least a few hours. They could go back to the hotel—
Shit. What….
The realization of pain hit him at last. He called out—John grabbed for him, caught air, and felt himself falling. Just like before.
He remembered screaming, remembered fighting another man for control of a weapon, shooting him, remembered a woman’s high-pitched shriek.
Go to the bathroom. Stay there. Don’t come out.
It hadn’t saved her. He remembered the indignation: that they’d shot everybody, even her, and she wasn’t even involved. He remembered somebody touching him, there, crumpled behind the bed, feeling liquid run down his temple and pool around his head. Just flashes, images, sounds. Smell. The smell of blood and death.
He stared, wide-eyed, as John knelt beside him, calling an ambulance, keeping both hands pressed against his chest. It hurt. He struggled to breathe, only saw John’s taut, worried face.
“Help is on the way. Stay with me Andrei, please….”
John ran his fingers through his hair so roughly his scalp hurt. He paced the waiting room, more out of habit than anything. The police came; he gave his story. Reporters tried to quest
ion him; he refused comment and asked a security guard to have them removed.
“Hey.”
John spun. “I guess you’ve been dancing in the fucking streets.” He glanced at the waiting room clock. “It’s been five hours.”
Chris stepped into the room, looking sincerely contrite as only Chris could while feeling the total opposite. “I just heard.”
“I’m sure.” He turned his back, jerking away when Chris touched his shoulder. “Don’t you dare.”
“Goddammit, John. I’m trying to be a friend. At least let me try.”
“Friend. God, as if you ever earned the right to say the word. Especially to him.”
“How is he?”
John balled his fists. “Dead. He’s fucking dead, Chris. Are you happy? It’s like that stupid film you’re so fond of, the one about death not being cheated and finding a way no matter what.” He sneered. “Although I wouldn’t be surprised if the Grim Reaper didn’t have a bit of help from you this time.”
Barely resisting the urge to spit on Chris, he strode past and exited the hospital.
Chapter 9
“Please sit.” The GORGON supervisor offered him a chair, and Andrei sat down with a little trepidation. Behind her, the panorama windows displayed the whole majesty of the Chablais Alps and Lake Geneva at their feet. This place was a sanatorium on the outside, but they’d told him most of it was actually run by GORGON through some shell corporation or other.
The supervisor reached into the drawer of the desk and tossed him a French newspaper. Full coverage of a Russian lawyer murdered on the street, with suggested Russian mob connections. Some investigative journalist or other had had a field day finding out he’d been in a witness protection scheme. Andrei wondered how much of that was seeded by GORGON—maybe as a way to protect him.
“You’re dead, Mr. Voronin. Your former associates certainly believe it. You have to vanish permanently.”
“Another ‘facelift’?” Andrei asked.
“No, the first one we’ve given you after your ‘car crash’ should be sufficient.”
Andrei touched his face, remembering the swelling and tenderness, but by now, all bruises were gone. “Thank you. I’m grateful I didn’t actually have to die.”
The supervisor leaned forward, connecting her fingertips. “One reason why we are so efficient is that we trust the agents on site to make decisions such as those. The question now is: where do you want to take it, Mr. Voronin?”
“I don’t have much to offer,” Andrei said. “I was a lawyer, running shell companies for wide-scale tax evasion. Unless you need a corporate lawyer here….”
“Our agents are all cross-trained,” she said. “So you would want to join us? Why?”
Because I have nowhere else to go, seemed like such a pathetic reason, even if it was the truth. Andrei met her gaze as he mulled over a way to put his feelings into acceptable words. Feelings. It was almost funny the way emotion seemed to be leading him these days. He had no delusions he was a far cry from the man he’d once been.
“Truthfully, I need the job, someplace to belong. I can offer you loyalty for all you’ve shown me. I have military training, due to my mandatory service I completed in Russia. After that incident in the woods in Monaco, I don’t doubt I could hold my own. I speak a number of languages….” He trailed off, then pursed his lips. “I suppose I haven’t anything much of value to you. I thank you for meeting with me.”
He began to rise. The woman stopped him.
“Christopher Gibson,” she said simply.
“I don’t understand.”
“We evaluated the situation very carefully. The team of John Soong and Christopher Gibson. Gibson has always had a rogue streak, but we value his independence.”
“He’s impressive. Cold-blooded, but impressive.”
“During this mission, Gibson has shown traits I haven’t seen before. Some real emotions, even attachment. We feel it would make him a better-rounded person to team you up with him.”
“Me?”
“And Soong.”
Andrei paused. What was going on in her head that she suggested that? Did she know everything? Had she seen everything?
“You’re not antagonistic about that suggestion?” she asked, eyebrow raised.
“No, but, you’re aware of the… emotional side.” He’d be damned to admit to her or anybody the thought of both of them thrilled him. He did remember the sex very well, and there was no doubt it would happen again if they actually ended up being on one team.
“Personality-wise, you are compatible,” she said coolly, as if firmly rebuking the thought any of this could have to do with sex. “Under pressure, you functioned well.”
She stood and came around the front of the desk. She leaned back against it, folded her arms across her trim waist. “Ordinarily, most agencies frown upon or even forbid any type of emotional attachments forming amongst team members, but we at GORGON pride ourselves on a willingness to bend protocols when necessary. That isn’t to say we’ll tolerate hearts leading our agents to act at purposes counter to the mission as a whole.”
“I understand.” It had been a very good thing Chris was more pragmatic than emotional in this instance.
The director nodded, then stood straight. Andrei took that as his cue and stood. He followed the director to the door.
She extended her hand. “Welcome aboard, then. I’ll let you decide on a permanent name to be known as. Your partners should be on the fourth floor. The area receptionist will ring their office once you arrive.”
“Thank you.”
“The pleasure has been mine.”
Chris was cleaning his rifle when the receptionist rang them. John stood abruptly, glad he didn’t have to watch Chris doing his The Jackal routine anymore. He breathed deeply and closed his jacket, but managed to not run his hand through his hair before he opened the door and waved Andrei toward them.
“And?” Chris asked, placing the rifle back into its case.
“He looks a little confused, but not bad.”
Chris’s lips quirked with amusement.
“Thank you for killing me again,” Andrei said when he entered.
“A public mess was the only way we could convince them.” Chris stood and offered a hand. “And I only shot the charge placed on your chest.”
“Like in the movies… fake blood everywhere.” Andrei shook his head. “I’m just glad you didn’t shoot me in the head.”
“Didn’t work last time somebody tried that.” Chris laughed, and John was amazed Andrei joined him.
“They offered you a job?” Chris asked.
Andrei nodded. “Even after I abased myself and practically begged for one.”
John laughed and massaged Andrei’s shoulder. “I’m sure you were very butch and professional about it all.”
Andrei shrugged. “I tried.”
Chris came forward to clap him on the other shoulder. “You’re part of the team, though. Ours, right?”
“Yes.”
Chris pumped his fist in the air. “All right! Martin can be a real bastard, though. I was sure he’d make you a desk jockey.”
Andrei cocked his head. “Martin? I spoke to a woman.” He stopped. There hadn’t been a nameplate on her desk.
“Ah,” John said. “They took you right to the top.”
“The dragon lady,” Chris muttered.
John laughed. “Also known as the only woman to ever tell Chris Gibson he wasn’t mature enough for her. Before her promotions, of course.”
“Of course,” Andrei said, his lips curving into a grin at the annoyance on Chris’s face. “Shall we go celebrate? Chris can pick up the tab.”
Chris snorted. “I didn’t get to keep the money.”
“Where did it go?”
“One of GORGON’s expense accounts. Maybe I’ll get a bonus at the end of the year for not demanding to be paid cash and stuffing my pockets before handing over the rest of the money.” Chris shrugged. “The
n again, yesterday was payday. I guess I can afford to treat you. Both.” That cocky grin went right to John’s groin.
He loves you, Andrei had said. They’d be one team. If only they could make this work. That might be the best solution to the jealousy and the feeling that one was constantly on the outside. Andrei, because he hadn’t been part of the team, or Chris, because of what John had with Andrei.
Clean Slate Page 9
