The Innocent Assassins

by Pema Donyo

  CHAPTER TEN

  Texts from Jane Lu’s Phone

  I didn’t know you still cared about him so much. I thought you were over him. – Lucy Hernandez, January 5, 2:52pm

  I’m here for business, remember? – Jane Lu, 2:59pm

  I was wrong, make a move on Adrian if he’s still the one you want! Maybe… you just have to listen to your heart! – 3:04pm

  Well, I asked my heart and she says Adrian ain’t interested. – 3:45pm

  Tristan tugged my arm back, away from the artillery.

  “You crazy? We don’t know how many there are!”

  I pressed further ahead, dragging him along. I counted the time between each bullet and recognized the sound of only one line of fire from a machine gun. My handgun filled my other hand. Tristan whipped out his gun too, but mine was aimed at a potential target.

  The closer I crept to the source of the machine gun, the further away the artillery became. Then the fire broke. The bullets stopped, and the sound of shooting gave way to a stomping of footsteps running out of the parking lot.

  He was getting away!

  “There’s one, get him!” I let go of Tristan’s hand. We both ran forward, hearing the footsteps at the same time. I ran slightly faster than Tristan, but he kept up close behind me.

  The perpetrator ran faster than either of us. I sped up the empty ramps, past the numbers listing the different parking areas, and beyond the abandoned toll gate. Light broke at the end of one of the ramps, and before I could shoot at the tall shadow against the wall of the parking lot, I was out on the street.

  Beep beep!

  Cars drove around me, swerving in time to miss me by inches. I backed up and heard Tristan’s footsteps right behind me also drawing to a halt. The bright sky above us couldn’t have been farther from my suddenly dark mood.

  “Were we just ambushed by the CIA?”

  “No, there’s no way.” Tristan shook his head. “Marge wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “Then someone followed us. Someone knew where we were going to be.” I tucked my gun back underneath my skirt and looked over my shoulder. The parking lot remained abandoned, not a soul around. I gazed back to the road ahead of me, cars whizzing by in the crazy Roman traffic and antique buildings filled with overstuffed shutter boxes. Not a single gunman in sight. “I don’t even know whether it was you or me being targeted.”

  I groaned, resisting the urge to break something. There was nothing, though, nothing but a getaway gunman and another busy road would make finding him or her impossible.

  “We’ve gotta tell Marge about this.” Tristan’s hand slipped into mine without warning and he began walking toward the pedestrian walkway. He peered both ways, checking for incoming traffic. “She needs to know.”

  His voice trailed off as I pulled away from him. He flexed the hand I’d let go of, as if to shake away an imaginary burn. I backed away from him.

  “What are you doing, Tristan?”

  He walked toward me, his pace brisk and his voice urgent. “You can’t tell me the reason we’re not together is because of… some businessman who broke up with you.”

  “I never said it was because of Adrian.”

  “I’m not an idiot.” Tristan’s eyes flashed. “Why do you still care about a guy who acted like he barely knew you this morning?” He stepped closer to me, closing the space between us. Tristan rifled a hand through his hair. “He’s cold, kid.”

  “Stop!” I pressed my palms against his chest. “I can’t.”

  I hailed a taxi and walked toward it with Tristan—our hands definitely apart. “He’s an important source of information.”

  “Seems like we can get rid of him to me.”

  “Get rid of him?” I opened my taxi door and sat far from Tristan’s wandering hands. “I need him for the demonstration to close the contract, don’t I?”

  He let out a harsh laugh.

  “Adrian’s better off dead, kid.”

  ****

  I was dead.

  So incredibly, totally dead.

  “I’m already half an hour late to my meeting!”

  “I cannot go any faster.” The taxi cab driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror as he edged around the circle of traffic. We zoomed by the Coliseum, the gray ruins reminding me of my own professional credibility falling apart. My executive career was over.

  I sank back into the leather seats and sighed in defeat. So yelling and demanding illegal speeds in Italian hadn’t worked.

  “What is the meeting for?”

  “What? Oh.” I stopped drumming my fingernails against the windowpane and scanned the taxi driver through the mirror. “I have a meeting with my boss about a business deal. We have to impress a client.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  I glanced at my suitcase next to me in the car. The flyers and presentation ideas and spreadsheets prepared last night were still fresh in my mind, along with all the details which weren’t quite suitable for taxi rides. “He’s getting rid of a competitor.”

  I resisted the urge to pull out my compact and check my make-up for the three-hundredth time. I glimpsed the time on my phone again. Forty minutes late. There was no way Adrian would wait for me.

  Still, when I approached the white building I stepped out of the cab and through the revolving glass doors. Endless windows with shutter boxes suddenly gave way to one-way black glass windows and paved concrete instead of cobblestone. The modern building appeared so out of place among all the ancient buildings of Rome.

  But if the outside of the building was sleek and modern, the inside of the European CO station remained as antiquated as the Trevi Fountain. Wooden floors held up oak furniture, gold-trimmed tables, and ivory sculptures carved into the walls like a Catholic cathedral.

  The building wasn’t called a CO station, of course. The words “BANKS HOTEL” stood outside the building on the neon banner. There were even a few tourists wandering around, taking pictures of all the antique furniture and Murano glass chandeliers.

  I walked toward the front desk, my heels clipping with impatience to reach the receptionist.

  The middle aged woman fixed a judging eye on me. She studied me enough to take a look at my CO ID badge and immediately ask, “Welcome to the Banks Hotel, how can I help you?”

  I leaned closer and whispered, “CO, Lu, appointment, 34596.”

  She typed in my ID code into the computer and frowned when she saw what popped up on the screen. “You’re late.”

  Thank you, Captain Obvious.

  I flashed a smile, hoping I possessed at least enough charm to make it into Adrian’s office. “Roman traffic is the worst at this hour.”

  She paused before hitting the enter key on her keyboard. With a sniff, she pressed it anyway. She picked up a walkie-talkie and spoke into it, “CO approaching.” After setting it down, she glimpsed back up at me. “Third from the left.”

  “Thank you.” I raced to the elevators and pressed the down button. The receptionist at the front desk controlled the two settings for the elevator – one which led to a normal elevator and another which led to the CO offices. Goodness gracious, if CO stopped changing the elevators they used for the entrance to the CO suite, it would make everything so much easier. Still, security reasons, I knew.

  The elevator third from the left swung open. The elevator glided down two floors, and then the entire room became blue. A whir of a machine came from behind the elevator, and then a pad with the outline of a hand appeared instead of the elevator numbers to press. I pressed my palm down while the scanner beeped with life. Satisfied, the whirring stopped and I removed my hand from the pad. The elevator stopped as well.

  I tapped my foot as the elevator doors parted open. As soon as they parted, I clenched my suitcase tighter in my hand and raced out the doors.

  Agents and executives speaking a multitude of languages stood in front of the elevators, all jabbering away on their phones sorting out contract details or finalizing mission plans w
hile talking in code. I squeezed my way through, toward the east set of revolving doors and into the lobby of Adrian King’s office.

  No one else was waiting, so I walked ahead to the receptionist’s desk and placed my ID card in front of her. “I’m here for the eight-thirty appointment.”

  “Mr. King has a busy schedule. You are much too late to complete the appointment.”

  “Is he in his office right now?”

  The receptionist shifted in her seat with some discomfort. “He is, but there is no way you can visit.”

  I started walking toward the big black doors behind the receptionist’s desk after her first two words. She protested behind me, but not before the doors had already swung open.

  A huge window was the first thing I saw. The window formed the wall opposite from the doors, giving a full view at the city of Rome below. I spotted certain landmarks and the terrible traffic. At least my cover story for being late seemed somewhat plausible.

  “You can’t go in there!” The receptionist stood next to me in the doorway, somehow out of breath from crossing a few yards to reach me. Her panicked look switched from me to Adrian, obviously wondering whether or not she’d made a terrible error by not physically using her body to block me from walking to the office.

  “I was stuck in traffic…” I paused, nearly unable to form the formal title on my tongue. “Mr. King. Please forgive me.”

  Mr. King, however, didn’t seem concerned at all. “It is fine, Miss Lu.” He nodded to the receptionist before she closed the door behind us. Adrian rose from his seat and clasped his hands behind his back.

  As soon as I sat down opposite him, he started pacing back and forth in front of the window before me. He looked marvelous in the fitted blazer and dress pants, while the slim fit of his oxford shirt made him look toned.

  I wasn’t sure about maturity, but definite exhaustion was etched on his face. Noticeable bags formed under his eyes, and the wrinkles in his forehead reflected stress. My first instinct was to walk over to him and smooth his hair and his cheek. I’d ask him what was wrong, tell him he’d been working too hard, and kiss him softly on his lips.

  I pushed those thoughts from my mind as quick as they’d slipped in. The wall of formality stood between us. I was Miss Lu; he was Mr. King. Adrian and Jane existed only in memories.

  “I am sorry, you know, for being late. From now on I will remain much more professional and keep to schedule.”

  “Oh?” Adrian quirked his mouth up in surprise. “Are you late?” He peered down at his watch. “I lost track of time myself.”

  The pile of papers on his desk backed up his words. The stack stood several inches thick, and two empty coffee mugs rested next to the pile.

  He rubbed his eyes. I realized the pacing wasn’t a mindless new habit, it was to try to keep him awake.

  Even when CO let us take vacation breaks, Adrian kept studying some new subject or learned a new language. He never stopped working, and I’d always been there to remind him to relax, to prevent him from driving himself crazy with work. Without me, who would tell him to take care of himself and sleep on time?

  My fingers itched with the urge to embrace him then and there. Instead, I opened my briefcase and pulled out the paperwork.

  “There are several alternative routes we can pursue for the demonstration, considering the current budget for this contract negotiation.”

  “No budget.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Adrian stopped pacing. “The CEO has decided not to place budget limits on the negotiation. He wants Croyden as a client.”

  “Doesn’t a limitless budget mean more work for you?” I regretted the words as soon as they slipped from my mouth. “I mean, not saying you can’t handle it. It’s…” I gestured to the pile of papers. “You seem swamped.”

  He pulled out his chair and seated himself behind the proof of my words. “If the CEO wants Croyden as a client, I have to make it happen.”

  I folded my hands in my lap. “You don’t have to do everything he says.”

  He leaned against his desk in front of me and crossed his hands across his upper chest. “There are responsibilities I have to fulfill as the next CEO. There will be more work for you as well.”

  But his features were haggard, though his blue suit was pressed with precision. He was taking way more work upon himself than he could handle.

  “Did you want it?”

  “What?”

  “The CEO position.”

  “Always.”

  I pressed my lips together. I feared direct eye contact with him would cause him to refuse to answer. “Why did you never tell me, when we were together?”

  “I didn’t think I would get the position.” Urgency slipped into his tone. “All the hard work, all the sacrifices I made, it’s all worth it now. I can change the structure of CO. I already told you about those plans.”

  I struggled to maintain detached professionalism in my tone, trying to match the coldness of his. “Is it worth it—the power? Having all the prestige?”

  “Worth what?”

  Losing me, I wanted to say. I wanted to cry it out, to scream it, to write it down and read it back to him.

  I took out the papers in my briefcase and laid them on his table. “The most impressive way we can manage the explosions and artillery presentation, if the budget has been increased, is to employ the new laser technology Marty developed. We will present a combination of our still-in-production localized silent bomb. The bomb will cost more money to develop, of course, but will no doubt impress Croyden.”

  “It’s not about the power.”

  I swallowed and kept my eyes fixed on the papers. “What?”

  “Keeping the CEO position. It’s not about power, or prestige, or anything else.” He cleared his throat. “It was about you.”

  My throat felt dry. Every part of my body wanted to look up at him, but I was too scared he’d see the vulnerability in my eyes.

  “I wanted you to finally have some peace in your life. You were always talking about peace, remember? You were always talking about having some boring life in the country and getting married. A regular executive couldn’t give such a life to you. I wanted to keep you safe. And there is no safer position in the world than the CEO’s wife, Janey.”

  I flinched at the nickname. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve always been interested in being in charge. You love how everyone has to answer to you.”

  I finally glanced at Adrian. My look of cool detachment had been abandoned long ago. “You love power.”

  His jaw clenched at my accusations, but he didn’t deny the claims I made.

  “You still don’t understand. When you’ve worked so hard for something, when you’ve risked so much to reach a position, there’s no way you can give it up.”

  “But you can.” I stood up, the papers on the desk forgotten. If I could give up the CO for the CIA, anyone could. “If it isn’t right for you anymore, you can give it up. Trust me. You don’t have to accept what’s been told to you if you want something else.”

  “Trust you?”

  “I know you’re thinking about the Griffith, but this is completely different.”

  “No, it’s the same.” All the easy familiarity from moments earlier evaporated. Coldness descended between us. “I’m not going to give it up now. Even if you’ve decided you no longer want to be with me.”

  “Of course I want to be with you!”

  Adrian’s eyes widened at my outburst.

  I bit my lip, wondering whether or not to continue. Ah, why not. He couldn’t disregard me any more than he was already.

  “He kissed me. I haven’t spoken to him since. There is nothing going on between him and me. There never was.” Well, except espionage. But at least nothing romantic.

  His eyes sharpened, as if seeing me for the first time. “You never cheated?”

  “I would never cheat on you.”

  He studied my expression like he was trying to figure ou
t whether or not I was lying. Okay, so he’d become more cautious of the words I told him. But there was nothing dishonest in what I said.

  “I miss you. And now I see you with Emma and I know there’s something between you two.”

  “There’s nothing happening with Emma and me.”

  “What?”

  “I said there’s nothing romantic between Emma and me.”

  I clutched my necklace between my fingers. I toyed with the pearls, preoccupied with images of Emma and Adrian talking before class. “But I saw all the flirting in the hallway between you guys.”

  “What?”

  The words echoed what I’d said to Tristan. Maybe Adrian was as bad at recognizing flirting as I was.

  Adrian finally broke the fog of quiet by lifting up one of the papers on his desk. “So, how much money do you think the bombs need?”

  I blinked at him. The sinking in my chest threatened to overwhelm me. Of course. Even if he didn’t want Emma, he could still be over me. Believing I was with Tristan didn’t mean he wanted to be with me.

  Yet when I finally peered back up to answer, I noticed his smile. It was kind and familiar. Warmth flooded my gut. An ease to the conversation which hadn’t existed before suddenly emerged. The old Adrian had returned to me.

  “Quarter of a million, but Marty told me all the scientists need is a week. The bombs could be used after the lasers to heighten the effect. Start off the demonstration small, you know, and build it up to a better finish.”

  “Sounds like work.”

  “I think we can manage. We’ll have to meet some more, of course, to decide the final details. We need a private venue, for example. Then we’ll need to decide what time would be best to show it off.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  I felt my heart skip a beat. It was like we’d returned back to the beginning of our relationship, back when we were still flirting with each other and before the drama between us began. It was a new beginning.

  “So am I.”

  A new beginning would be nice.

  ****

  “Someone just told me ‘Ni hao’ and tried to sell me a T-shirt with ‘I love Rome’ on it. Then someone asked me in Chinese if I was part of the Asian travel tour too.”