No, the brushes weren't shaking any longer.
Where was he?
"I hear you moving, you little whore." Staunton moved out of the brush, his gaze on the path. "How did you get across the path?"
Across the path? She thought in bewilderment.
Then she froze as she heard it, too. Footsteps in the brush across the way. Clumsy footsteps. Who…
A strangled cry.
Her gaze flew back to Staunton. Garrett!
Garrett was behind Staunton his arm around his neck. Staunton's AK-47 had dropped to the ground. But even as she watched, Staunton was reaching for a knife in his belt.
No!
She raised her gun and aimed. Not the head, it was too close to Garrett. The heart or stomach. But what if the bullet went through his body and struck Garrett?
Staunton had the knife out and was plunging it into Garrett's arm.
Garrett flinched, but then ignored it as if he hadn't felt it, his arm tightening and jerking back, the blood pouring over Staunton's throat.
Blood.
Garrett's blood. Joel's blood. No more blood, Staunton.
"Let him go, Garrett," she called. "Dammit, let him go." Garrett's grasp loosened for an instant as his gaze rose to the branch where she was hidden.
Staunton tore away and his knife plunged toward Garrett again. She pulled the trigger.
She watched Staunton arch as the bullet struck his body. She fired again, and he slumped to the ground. And then again. Was he dead? Please, let him be dead.
She had to be sure.
"Emily." Garrett was watching her slide down from the tree. "Are you okay?"
She ignored the question. "Watch him." It didn't seem possible that she had actually brought Staunton down. All the weeks, the search¬ing, the agony…
She jumped the rest of the way to the ground and crossed to where Staunton lay. "I have to be sure." She turned Staunton over. His blood was bubbling from the two wounds in his chest and a faint line was trickling from the side of his mouth. At first, she thought he was dead, but he slowly opened his eyes. "Emily…" Then, incredibly he smiled. "I won't die, you know. Zelov never really died, and neither will I. You can't beat us. Zelov and I are invincible. I'll get well and come back, and I'll do whatever… I wish with you."
"You're dying now. You probably only have a few more minutes." She stared into his eyes. "And if I thought any differently, I'd put an¬other bullet in your head. I may still do it."
"Would you?" For an instant he looked uncertain. "But that isn't how-" His expression became twisted, ugly. "No, I won't die. I'm going to live. I'm going to be so rich, I'll be a god. Like Zelov. Only better. Better…" He suddenly arched upward, his eyes glazing over. "No!"
"Give up, Staunton." "I won't-I'm going to-" He screamed and slumped backward. He was dead.
Garrett's hand grasped her shoulder. "He's gone, Emily." She knew that he was gone, but she couldn't stop staring at the ugliness still imprinted on his face, even in death. "Let him go," Garrett said.
Something warm and liquid was dripping on her shoulder. Blood. Garrett's blood.
The knowledge jarred her, and she shook her head to clear it. She jumped to her feet and took his arm in both her hands. "How bad, is it?"
"Flesh wound. But it hurts like hell."
"It's almost stopped bleeding. But it's going to have to be stitched."
"Be quiet." He took her in his arms. "Just be quiet for a minute. Okay? I need this."
She needed it, too. "You shouldn't have been here."
"You're wrong. I had the right to be here. I should have been here sooner, dammit."
"No, I was the one who-I could have handled it." But, Lord, it had been close. "I didn't want you-"
"Is she all right?" She looked up to see Pauley coming across the path. "I know you told me to stay over there, Garrett, but she's cov¬ered with blood. I'm damn good at first aid. I saw a whole series about it on the Learning Channel."
"It's Garrett's blood." She looked down at Staunton. "And maybe a little of his."
"I think it's too late for first aid on him," Pauley said, staring at Staunton. "He's the bad guy?"
"Yes," she said. "And, yes, Staunton was definitely the bad guy." She wearily brushed the hair away from her face. "I'm glad to see you, Pauley. When I heard those shots, I thought Borg had killed both you and Joslyn."
"Was that his name? He shot Joslyn. He was there before I knew it. I was in the woods on guard when I heard the shot. I circled around and came back and shot Borg." He shook his head. "It gave me a very weird… feeling. I'll have to think about it."
"Is Joslyn dead?"
"No, but he's pretty bad. Irana showed up right after I killed Borg, and she's working on Joslyn, trying to keep him alive. Dardon is help¬ing her. Garrett told me to come with him when he took off after you. I was to be the decoy while he went in for the kill."
"Irana is safe?"
"Yes," Garrett said. "No more talk. It can wait until later." He took her arm. "Let's get back to Irana. I want to get you both out of here before someone gets curious about those shots."
"Do you want me to bandage that arm?" Pauley asked. "Or maybe
TWENTY-TWO
WHEN THEY ARRIVED BACK AT the road, Irana was kneeling on the ground beside Joslyn applying a pressure bandage. "Thank God," she said as she glanced up and saw Emily. "Are you hurt?"
"No, but Garrett is wounded. I don't think it's serious." She looked down at Joslyn. He was obviously unconscious and appeared stark pale in the light of the lantern sitting beside him. "Is he going to die?"
"Not if I can help it. He's lost a lot of blood, and I don't know if the bullet clipped an organ yet." She glanced at Garrett. "I told Dar¬don to phone for an ambulance. He went to the monastery to meet them and bring them here. I'm going with him to take care of him."
"I'm not arguing," Garrett said.
"You were angry with all of us when you got here." She looked at Emily. "And you blamed Joslyn enough to use him to bring us here. He may be dying because he wanted to make amends for what he did wrong."
"Are you trying to make me feel guilty?"
"No, I'm not judging you. I helped to make sure he'd come with us. Who knows? Maybe Joslyn was looking on you as his own messen¬ger to help him make peace with himself." Her lips tightened. "I'm just saying that no matter how you feel about him, it's not going to stop me from helping him."
TWENTY-TWO
WHEN THEY ARRIVED BACK AT the road, Irana was kneeling on the ground beside Joslyn applying a pressure bandage. "Thank God," she said as she glanced up and saw Emily. "Are you hurt?"
"No, but Garrett is wounded. I don't think it's serious." She looked down at Joslyn. He was obviously unconscious and appeared stark pale in the light of the lantern sitting beside him. "Is he going to die?"
"Not if I can help it. He's lost a lot of blood, and I don't know if the bullet clipped an organ yet." She glanced at Garrett. "I told Dar¬don to phone for an ambulance. He went to the monastery to meet them and bring them here. I'm going with him to take care of him."
"I'm not arguing," Garrett said.
"You were angry with all of us when you got here." She looked at Emily. "And you blamed Joslyn enough to use him to bring us here. He may be dying because he wanted to make amends for what he did wrong."
"Are you trying to make me feel guilty?"
"No, I'm not judging you. I helped to make sure he'd come with us. Who knows? Maybe Joslyn was looking on you as his own messen¬ger to help him make peace with himself." Her lips tightened. "I'm just saying that no matter how you feel about him, it's not going to stop me from helping him."
Emily stared at her for a moment. "I don't want him to die by Staunton's hand. Maybe I don't want him to die at all. But I can't for¬give what he did. Don't expect me to pretend that I will."
Irana smiled. "No, I don't expect you to pretend anything. You're not at all good at it." Her gaze shifted to Pauley. "Come here and keep press
ure on this bandage while I take care of Garrett's wound."
He moved forward with alacrity. "Right. That's really much more dramatic and worthwhile than cleaning up that knife scratch."
Garrett took out his telephone. "Give me five minutes, Irana."
"No. I'm going to do it now." Irana took his phone and handed it to Emily. "When that ambulance gets here, I want to be ready to go. Let her make your call or wait."
He frowned. "I have to move fast, dammit." He glanced at Irana's expression and then told Emily, "Call Ferguson's number. Tell him what happened here and that it's time for his payback. He's got to hop on a plane and get here right away. I'll meet him at the monastery." He turned to Irana. "Arrange to have Joslyn put in seclusion when you get to the hospital. I don't want him talking or any publicity."
"That's going to be hard to do," Irana said dryly. "He's been shot."
"A hunting accident."
"No one is going to believe that."
"But it will take them time to decide to go to investigate what re¬ally happened. As soon as Dardon gets back, I'll have him drag Borg's body into the woods. That will buy us time." He said to Emily, "Now, dammit, make that call."
"I ADMIT I NEVER EXPECTED to see you at a place like this, Gar¬rett. I'd bet you're not planning on doing penance for all your past sins." Ferguson gazed at the two monks weeding the vegetable garden. He turned to Emily, who was sitting on a wooden bench beside the scullery door, and scowled. "You've caused me a hell of a lot of trouble."
"And, of course, I did it all on purpose." she said. "I planned it all to make your life inconvenient."
"Do you expect me to apologize? Okay, I'm sorry you had a bad time, but you made choices that gave me king-size headaches. You're still giving them to me. Bishop Dimitri's murder is going to be very delicate to handle." He turned back to Garrett. "You're sure it was Staunton who was responsible?"
"No question. You can probably scrounge up whatever proof you'll need." He shrugged. "Or plant what you can't find."
"You don't have much time. The bishop's housekeeper should be coming back to the residency within a few hours," Emily pointed out.
"She's already been diverted," Ferguson said absently. "I don't make mistakes like that."
Garrett smiled. "And I'd guess you sent someone into the forest to make sure the locals didn't find Borg's and Staunton's bodies until you were ready."
Ferguson didn't deny it. "You said that I was going to have my payoff. I wasn't going to be cheated."
"I've kept my promise. You're here, aren't you?"
"To get your ass out of hot water," Ferguson said. "And I'll do it. I just want to come out of this smelling like a rose and with enough prestige for a promotion, maybe even a political career."
"You're going to be the one who finally caught Emily's kidnapper and Levy's murderer. Added to that, you have the cachet of solving Bishop Dimitri's murder. It will be a major media circus."
"I want more."
Garrett tilted his head, waiting. He nodded at Emily. "I want her." "No," Garrett said sharply.
"Yes. She's the draw, the sun that will draw all that media to me. I want her to give interviews with me, to tell everyone how grateful she is that I managed to find Staunton."
"No way."
"I can make this cleanup the most pristine you've ever seen. No one gets hurt. I forget any illegal shenanigans you've pulled on the way to Staunton."
"You want the glory of catching Staunton. You'd do it anyway. Try again."
"Wait a minute, Garrett," Emily said. "I'm the one who's involved here. I'll make my own decision."
He swore beneath his breath. "They'll tear you apart, and he'll stand by watching and smiling like a Cheshire cat."
"I wouldn't allow anyone to tear me apart." She stared at Fergu¬son, considering the situation. "We might be able to work a deal. But it will be on my terms, under my control."
Ferguson gazed at her warily.
"I'll let you use me if you guarantee that Garrett won't ever suffer for either helping me or doing anything else even slightly irregular in the future. I can see you have rather an adversarial relationship. From now on Garrett will come up golden. You'll be the angel on his shoulder."
"Hell, no," Garrett said. "Emily, you're not going to-"
"Be quiet, Garrett. I know you probably may even enjoy battling with Ferguson, but that's too bad. I've got to set everything straight. I've got to pay you back for all you've done for me." She added soberly, "Though there's no way I can make up for the loss of your friend, Karif. But maybe I can make your future a little smoother." She glanced back at Ferguson. "And if you go back on your word later, you'll see a media blitz that will tear any career you might build to shreds. Don't ever doubt that, Ferguson."
Ferguson studied her before he nodded slowly. "Oh, I don't doubt it," he said. "Anything else?"
"Find a way to keep Garrett and Irana out of this."
"Anyone that's close to you will automatically be fodder for the paparazzi," Ferguson said.
"They won't be close to me." She didn't look at Garrett. "It will be just you and me, Ferguson." She could feel the storm of emotion build¬ing in Garrett. She had to get this over before he exploded. "One more thing. When you've milked this situation, I want you to ease me out of it. Find a way to make sure the media considers me a story that's run its course."
"That won't be easy."
"You can do it. I have faith in you. You appear to know every dirty trick in the book." She stood up. "Now I have to go to the hospital and see Irana. I'm sure you're going to be very busy in that forest, do¬ing some intricate staging."
"Yes." Ferguson hesitated. "You'd better tell your friend that we're transferring Joslyn to a hospital outside London within the next few hours. I can control the situation better there."
Ferguson was obviously already in high gear, she thought. "You'll have to talk to Irana about that. She may have something to say to you." She stared him in the eye. "Now, do we have a deal?"
"Yes." He smiled faintly. "Though you practically stole the shirt off my back. It's going to be a nightmare erasing Garrett and your doctor friend from the equation." He was silent a moment. "But I've been thinking that maybe I'll recast Staunton in this story."
"Recast?"
"Well, since the hammer has never shown up, it would be coun¬terproductive to bring up this wild tale about Nicholas II's billions. It will complicate things enormously. It's probably a bunch of bull any¬way."
"Really?"
He nodded. "So why don't we do a little background tinkering and make Staunton a terrorist. He kidnapped both you and Levy to make a statement and would have bargained your lives for a release of political prisoners if I hadn't tracked him down and freed you." Go on.
"The bishop's death could be attributed to revenge against the Church. We can find a way to ignore Babin's and Zelov's deaths. The attack on Mykala Island had a distinct terrorist profile."
"And?"
"That's all. I killed Staunton and his cohort, and we're working diligently on apprehending his cell group." "Could you really stage a big lie like that?" He smiled. "Watch me." "I'm not going to lie," Emily said.
"You don't have to make a statement at all. I'll do all the talking." His brows rose. "Yes?"
She nodded slowly. "I don't care what you say about him as long as everyone knows what a bastard he was." She turned and walked away.
Garrett started to follow her, then whirled on Ferguson. "You take care of her," he said fiercely. "You treat her as if she was made of the finest crystal. If you don't, I'll know about it, and I'll come after you." He turned and caught up with Emily in three strides. "You know why he's concocting this bullshit about terrorists, don't you?"
She nodded. "It's starting all over again. He's going to try to find the Tsar's treasure for himself."
"Ferguson is going to go crazy sifting through Staunton's belong¬ings, trying to find a clue that will lead him to the hammer."
&nbs
p; "Good. I can't think of anyone I'd rather see go off his rocker."
"You don't think he'll find it." Garrett's gaze was narrowed on her face. "That's why you agreed."
"I agreed because enough people have died over that damn treasure. And it will never stop. Even if the Russian government took possession, the corruption would go on. Irana said that Nartova told Bishop Dim¬itri that the only way to win the treasure was to leave it alone. I believe he was right."
"And what about Bishop Dimitri's plan to give the money to needy children?"
"A wonderful scheme. Yet whom could you trust to make sure that all the money was protected and went to charity? You saw what happened when Joslyn and Bishop Dimitri tried to do it. No, let Fer¬guson beat his head against the wall, then start believing that the trea¬sure was the myth he called it."
He said slowly, "As I said, you seem very sure he won't find it among Staunton's effects. Why?"
She looked at him. "Do you really want to know? Do you want to find Zelov's hammer?"
He shook his head. "I can't imagine anything I want less. I have plenty of money, and I don't need that kind of burden. It would smother me."
"I don't have plenty of money, but I feel the same way. It would be the only way that Zelov and Staunton could really destroy me." They had reached the car, and she turned to face him and braced herself. "I don't want you to come with me to the hospital to see Irana."
"This is good-bye?" His lips twisted. "You're cutting me loose?" "I don't want anyone to see us together." "And I don't give a damn."
"I know. But I have to wipe the slate clean. I don't want debts on either side." She paused. "And I want to put time and space between us. I want to know that it wasn't circumstance or pity that brought us this close."
"I've never pitied you. For God's sake, you should know that by-" he stopped. "I'm not going to change your mind, am I?"
"Time and space," she repeated. She would not cry. She was right. This was better for both of them.
But dear God, it was hard.
"Then get the hell out of here." He opened the car door for her. "Start chalking up your damn time. Because I'm going to be on your doorstep before you know it. Be ready for me."
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