Deadlock

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Deadlock Page 9

by Iris Johansen


  "SHE MAY NOT GO WITH YOU," Irana said. "You went about it the wrong way."

  "I don't have time to be diplomatic."

  "Obviously." She searched his face. "You're hurting. How can I help?"

  "You can get on that boat and get the hell off the island."

  "You think that my patients are in danger?"

  "I think that Staunton is a crazy, sadistic bastard and that he likes to set examples. He wants Emily, and he's already proved he'll savage anyone who gets in his way." Garrett checked his watch. "I don't know how much time we have. I know I'm not handling this well, but trust me, will you? Just get down to the dock and get on that boat."

  "Maybe I could persuade Emily to go on the boat with me. I could tell her I need her to help with the patients."

  He shook his head. "I need her with me. She's the target. The rest of us are just means to an end." He frowned. "And she's taking too long in there." He strode toward the door and knocked on it. "Emily."

  No answer.

  "Shit!" He threw open the door. Empty.

  A small open window with curtains billowing in the breeze.

  "Dammit, I'm an idiot." He turned on his heel. "I should have known that she'd-what does she know about the island? Where could she hide, Irana?"

  "Just the beach." Irana frowned, trying to think. "The hospital. The lighthouse. I'll go with you."

  "No, I'll find her. You get on that boat."

  Irana slowly nodded. "That's my job right now. My patients and my nurses. I'll go check and make sure everyone is out of the hospital."

  "Dardon will have seen-" It wasn't any use arguing with her. Irana would do what she thought she should do. "Just get to the dock as soon as you can. I'll call Dardon and tell him you're coming."

  He strode out of the cottage and gazed at the moon-dappled beach.

  Emily couldn't have more than a few minutes' head start, but she wasn't in sight.

  He doubted she would go to the hospital. She wasn't sure that Irana might not go back there, and she would want no interference. He started up the beach toward the lighthouse.

  "WE SHOULD BE IN ATHENS in thirty minutes," Dardon said, when Garrett picked up more than an hour later. "Any sign of Emily?"

  "Hell, no," Garrett said. "She wasn't at the lighthouse, and I searched every vacant cottage along the beach. Then I doubled back and searched the hospital from top to bottom. This place is as twisted as a rabbit warren."

  "You sound a bit tense. It could be okay. We don't know for sure that Staunton is on his way there."

  "I'm sure enough. I'd better be. Irana will draw and quarter me if we moved all her patients for no reason."

  "Well, you may have more time than you think."

  "And I may have less. My guess is that Staunton was at a jumping-off place that would let him get to anywhere in the least amount of time. Look, I can't talk any longer. I have to find her. I'll call you when I have her off the island." He hung up the phone.

  Where the hell was she?

  He strode out of the hospital and stood staring in frustration at the beach.

  Where next? He doubted if she would leave this area she knew to seek help from any strangers who lived on the island. Emily wasn't hiding from anyone but him, and she wouldn't want interference. She was on the attack.

  He stiffened as the thought sank home.

  Attack.

  Then why had he assumed she'd be here on the beach? She wouldn't be cowering helplessly waiting for Staunton to find her. She'd go where she'd think Staunton would go.

  His gaze lifted to his own house gleaming ivory in the moonlit hills above him.

  The place where Staunton would go.

  Yes.

  He started at a run up the path toward the house.

  He was halfway up the path when he heard the sound of a helicop¬ter in the distance. Large aircraft. Low, over the water, coming from the east.

  Shit.

  FROM WHERE SHE STOOD ON the balcony of Garrett's house Emily could see the blue lights of the helicopter spearing down into the sea as it approached the island.

  The muscles of her stomach clenched. Don't be sick. Take a deep breath.

  "We have to get out of here. Staunton will here within ten minutes."

  She whirled to see Garrett coming toward her. His expression…

  She instinctively lifted the gun in her hand.

  "I see you found my private arsenal. You had plenty of time while I was running all over the beach trying to find you."

  "I needed a weapon. You had enough guns in that box in the closet to arm a battalion."

  "I like to be prepared. Sometimes one gun isn't enough."

  "I thought you would. You're that kind of man."

  "The kind of man I am is mad as hell at the moment." "Too bad." She moistened her lips. "You were trying to stop me." "You're damn right. I told you, it's not the time. Now give me that gun."

  She didn't move.

  "Give it to me, Emily. I have to get you out of here." "No. He'll be here soon."

  "That's right, and by the sound of that copter, it's big enough for him to bring fifteen or twenty close friends. I think it's a Superhawk. He's probably hoping for a quick cleanup before he snatches you away." His lips tightened. "He's not going to get it. He's not getting anything he wants." He took a step closer. "Because we're going to be out of here before he touches down."

  She stepped back. "You go. I'll wait for him."

  He held out his hand. "Give me the gun. You're not going to shoot me.

  "I might." She tried to keep her tone cool. "I'd only hope to wound you, but I know how much firepower this gun has. I'd keep your dis¬tance."

  "It's a Magnum, and a bullet would do considerable damage. So you won't chance it. I'm not your enemy." "Then stay and help me.

  "That's what I'm trying to do." His gaze searched her face. "But I'm not going to be able to convince you, am I?" He shrugged and turned away. "Have it your own way. I did my best to-" He sud¬denly whirled and the edge of his hand came down on her wrist, send¬ing the gun flying.

  "No!"

  She heard him mutter a curse as she dove for the weapon. An agonizing pain shot through the back of her neck. Darkness.

  THE BLOOD WAS RUSHING TO her head.

  She was being carried in a fireman's lift, she realized dazedly. Garrett…

  She started to struggle. "Let me down."

  "Stop struggling, or I'll drop you on your head. I'm having enough trouble."

  "The hell I will." She spaced the words slowly and with precise venom. "Let-Me-Down."

  "Fine." He dropped her in a heap on the veranda. "Walk. Hurry. Get moving. And if you try to run away, I'll deck you again."

  He would do it. His eyes were blazing in his taut face. "You're an¬gry. Good. Then go away. This is none of your business. I don't need you anymore."

  "You're my business." He jerked her to her feet. "And I need you. So shut up and do what I tell you." "I don't-"

  "Listen to me," he said harshly. "I made a choice. I knew I might be serving you up to Staunton, and I still made it. But I'm not going to let him win this round. No way."

  "I'm the one who-"

  "No more talk." He spun her around to face the beach below. "Take one look and see what we're facing and then we go."

  "I have to-" She broke off again as she saw that the helicopter had landed on the beach, and men were pouring out of the belly of the aircraft. Staunton was on the beach and directing his forces. Even from this distance she couldn't mistake his lean frame. She couldn't take her eyes away from him. She whispered. "There he is."

  "I gathered that," Garrett said. "Now think, dammit. Do we stand here and let him take us, or get out of here and live to fight again?"

  Some of Staunton's men were running toward the hospital. Staunton himself was standing, head lifted, staring up at Garrett's house. She doubted if he could see her standing in the shadows cast by the house, but she was starting to shake. No, don't let him do that
to you, she thought.

  Staunton was gesturing, pointing, then started up the path. "Emily."

  "You go. I can't run from him."

  "And I can't go without you. So whatever threat he is to you, goes for me, too. What happens is going to be your responsibility." Joel.

  She closed her eyes. "Don't say that."

  "I'll say anything I have to say. From now on, the gloves are off."

  And whether he said it or not, the truth was evident. Responsibil¬ity. Guilt. Blame. It was happening again.

  But she couldn't let it happen again.

  She turned away. "Let's go. Get me out of here."

  "At last." He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the path that led around the house. "Run!"

  Five minutes later they were at the concrete pad on the other side of the island.

  "Get in." Garrett opened the passenger door. "I won't turn on the lights until we're on our way. Staunton should be right behind us. With any luck, he'll be delayed searching the house."

  "It's Staunton who seems to have all the luck." She jumped into the helicopter. "Get out of here. I don't want him shooting you."

  "Neither do I." Garrett started the engines and the rotors whirred. "But it may happen. I see lights on the hillside."

  So did Emily. Men running toward the helicopter pad, flashlights beaming in the darkness. Was one of them Staunton?

  Garrett glanced back at the house. "Here we go." The helicopter lifted off the pad. "We're almost-"

  A bullet shattered the glass beside her!

  "Shit." He spun the helicopter away from the direction of the house. "Keep low."

  But Garrett couldn't keep low, she thought desperately. Another bullet struck the fuselage of the aircraft. "We'll be out of range in a minute," Garrett said as they climbed higher. "If they don't get the gas tank." "Comforting thought."

  "I told you, the gloves are off." Garrett gazed down at the men milling below them. "Is that Staunton looking up at us?" A shock of fair hair, long, lean body. "Yes."

  "Then they won't try for the gas tank. Staunton doesn't want you dead." He veered away from the island. "Though he wouldn't mind me getting deep-sixed. I guess we have to be grateful for small-"

  His telephone rang.

  "I'd bet Staunton wants to vent his displeasure." He turned up the volume as he punched the button. "Garrett." "I want to talk to Emily," Staunton said.

  "She may not want to talk to you." He gazed inquiringly at Emily.

  She slowly reached out her hand and took the phone. "What do you want to say, Staunton?"

  "I just wanted to hear your voice. I've missed you. I've never been as intimate with anyone as I was with you. But we never took that final step. You ran away too soon. Garrett took you away, and I was very an¬gry about that. But now I've found you, and everything will work out."

  "I'm going to kill you, Staunton."

  "Really? But I notice you're the one on the run."

  "And I notice that you failed to get your hands on me again, even though you seem to have brought in your own Delta Force."

  "But it was very close. And I won't let it be a complete failure. I can't touch you right now, but I made Garrett a promise. I've been told he seems to have some involvement with that hospital on the beach. Thirty seconds."

  "What are you going to-"

  Fire stroked upward into the dark sky as the hospital exploded.

  Emily stared in horror down at the roaring inferno below. "Why?"

  "The hospital was empty. I was disappointed. Destroying things isn't very satisfying, but I take what I can get. I believe you're still close enough to see Garrett's house. It will be much more noticeable shortly. I've ordered it torched. I'm hanging up now. I look forward to seeing you soon, Emily."

  She was barely aware of hanging up the phone as she gazed down at the island. "Did you hear? He's torching your house."

  "I heard," Garrett banked the helicopter to the left. "But we're not sticking around to watch his fun."

  She could already see flames curling inside the house on the hill. The windows were glowing balefully as the fire devoured it. "I'm sorry. I should never have stayed with you after you got me out of the mountains. He might not have-"

  "Shut up. It was my choice." He didn't look at her. "And you al¬ways have to take responsibility for your choices."

  "Irana's hospital…"

  "I'll build her another one." His lips tightened. "Not here. Not now. Not until I kill the bastard. He was too disappointed that he couldn't chalk up any body counts."

  "She loves this island."

  He was silent a moment. "So do I."

  And she had taken this place away from both of them.

  But only while Staunton still lived.

  "I want you to take me to Athens and-"

  "Let you go after Staunton on your own," he finished for her. "No way."

  "You have Irana and your own life to protect. Look what happened here."

  "I almost got you killed. Staunton wouldn't even have known you were on this island if I'd done what I should have done when he phoned me.

  She frowned in puzzlement. "What you should have done?" "Hung up. I had a hunch he was tracking me. I took a chance be¬cause I wanted a few more minutes to try to negotiate." "Negotiate what?" He didn't answer.

  "Answer me." She was staring at his closed expression. "I know about Staunton's negotiations." She was thinking, trying to put it to¬gether. "How did Staunton find out that you were the one who helped me? How did he get the phone number to call you?" But he didn't have to reply. She was remembering that moment outside the camp. The young man with the warm, comforting smile. "Your friend. The man who helped you to find me. His name is… Karif?"

  "His name was Karif Barouk."

  Past tense. She felt sick. "He's dead?"

  "Yes."

  "Staunton?" "Yes."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Why should I? I knew you'd react the way you are now. You're feeling guilty as hell about the hospital and my house being destroyed. It was Staunton who should feel guilty, not you. As for Karif…" He paused. "I'm the one who asked him to help. I thought if he kept his mouth shut, he'd be safe. Karif was sometimes careless. But a good friend, the best friend."

  He was hurting. She could sense the pain behind that tough facade. He and this Karif had been close, and his friend had been taken from him. "Staunton tortured him?"

  "Oh, yes. And he wouldn't have broken unless it had gotten- Staunton evidently is exceptionally talented in that direction."

  "Yes, he is." She drew a deep, shaky breath. "Joel…"

  "I don't want to talk about your Joel. I don't want to talk about Karif. I want to talk about Staunton. I've been trying to be consider¬ate, trying to let the memories dull, trying to keep you from going off the deep end. I thought we had time to let you heal." He gazed di¬rectly in her eyes. "That's over. Time's up. Start thinking. Start re¬membering. If it hurts, it hurts. I want details. I want clues. Staunton never expected you to get out of those mountains alive, so he probably wasn't as discreet as he might have been. Did he talk to you?"

  "Sometimes. But it was usually… He talked about what he was doing to Joel."

  "Bastard. But he could have interspersed other information. Sift through it."

  Hard. Sharp. Merciless. This was the Garrett she had seen those first moments in that tent, when he had killed Ali. All darkness, all lethal skill.

  It shouldn't disturb her like this. It was that darkness and skill that she had wanted, what she had embraced. "I'll try to do what you want me to do."

  "If you need help, I'll give it to you. I'll probe, I'll ask questions."

  She gazed at him in shock.

  "Gloves are off," he repeated. "You help me, I help you. None of it will be pretty."

  "But in the end, we'll find Staunton." "That's not good enough." "What?"

  "We'll find Staunton. We'll find the man who hired Staunton. And I'll kill them both." He added
softly. "I'm hungry. I want it all."

  Emily had not thought beyond Staunton. He had completely filled her horizon for so long that everything else connected to him was blurred. Yet wicked as Staunton was, that evil had been bought and paid for by someone just as evil.

  "And you want it all, too," Garrett said. "You've just been so wounded that you've refused to think about it. I'd bet that within two days of ridding the world of Staunton you'd be going after the man who hired him." He smiled faintly. "But you'd be much better going after the lure that would gather them both in at once."

  "Zelov's hammer."

  He nodded. "You were ready to go after it to find Staunton. It's still the best game in town." It s no game.

  His smile faded. "No, it's not. But you'll find sometimes it's better to pretend it is. Too much intensity can cause you to make mistakes." His gaze shifted to the window. "We'll be in Athens soon. It's not safe to stay there. We'll take care of Irana, then take off."

  "Where?"

  "That's up to Dardon. He came up with a few answers tonight be¬fore I got the call from Staunton. It's pretty weird, but it's all we've got. We'll see if he can pull anything else from his sources."

  "About Staunton?"

  "No, about Zelov." He shook his head. "Later. I don't know enough myself right now. We'll talk about it after we reach Athens."

  GARRETT'S PHONE RANG THREE minutes after he set the heli¬copter down at a small airport just outside of Athens.

  "Where are you?" Dardon asked. "Irana's on the rampage. One of her friends on the island called her and asked her if she was all right. An explosion?"

  "Staunton blew up the hospital. We're in Athens. Are you still at the dock?"

  "No, Irana called the Mother Superior of St. Cecelia's Hospital where she used to work, and the patients are on their way there now. We're in an ambulance." He spoke to someone in the background. "She wants to talk to you."

  "We should not have left you," Irana said when she came on the line. "Are you hurt?"

  "No, and neither is Emily. You did exactly what you should have done." He paused. "The hospital is gone. I'll build you another one, Irana."

  "If God wills. He might have had a reason for taking this one away."

  "I don't think God had anything to do with it."

 

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