by Bella Juarez
James said nothing as he continued his gaze over the passing people and traffic on the street. Irene had seen this quiet brooding once before in St. Thomas. James was angry. He released her hand and leaned back in his chair, staring at her. His blue eyes were dark and stormy.
“We were supposed to go to Barcelona after I was done, remember?” James asked quietly.
“We can still go after you get home. Right now you need to focus on your job and see this thing through.”
“I want you to do something for me.”
“What?”
“Fly with me to Paris and take a connecting flight back to the States from there, okay?”
Irene smiled slightly. “That’s a dangerous thing, James. I know you, and you’ll try to convince me to stay.”
“I promise I won’t. Say good-bye to me in Paris.”
Irene reached across the table and took his hand. “I’m not saying good-bye to you in Paris or anywhere else. I’ll say see you when you get home.”
“I want you to go home and get everything squared away in Victoria. That way when I get back we can figure out how you’re going to move to Austin.”
“We’ll talk about it as soon as you get home,” Irene assured.
* * * *
JJ adjusted himself in his seat next to Irene as they started on their six-hour flight to Paris from Bahrain. Irene would’ve another twelve hours in the air from Paris, France, to Austin, Texas. He had arranged for Mick to pick her up at the airport and take her to his condo. She could call Gavin and Amy from Austin when she was ready to go home. She would be able to spend one night with him in Paris before she left for Texas.
They curled up with each other on the flight to Paris and managed some sleep. It was evening when they arrived at the Four Seasons Hotel George V. The room overlooked the city and had a view of the Eiffel Tower. JJ found Irene staring out the window and looking at the illuminated city with the famous tower watching over it.
“Wow,” Irene exclaimed in a whisper.
“It’s something, isn’t it?” JJ asked, standing behind her and gathering her in his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” JJ asked slyly.
Irene lightly threw an elbow into his ribs. “Damn you, James! You promised!” She laughed.
JJ chuckled slightly and kissed her in his favorite spot on her neck, below her ear. “How about we go out for a little bit? You’ve got twelve hours to sleep on the way home tomorrow.”
“Can we?”
“Absolutely.”
JJ arranged for a driver to take them to the Restaurant 6 New York that overlooked the River Seine. It was the perfect spot for Irene’s short tour of Paris. When they arrived at the restaurant, he asked the maître d’ to seat them at the window with a view of the Eiffel Tower across the river. When they were seated, Irene looked out the window and smiled.
“James, you’re a stinker!” she said, laughing.
“I’m not saying a word. But if you want to stay, I’m not arguing with you,” JJ said with a shrug.
Irene giggled and shook her head. JJ chose the selection of food for them. She had no idea what JJ was telling the waiter as he ordered. He started with the vegetable and ricotta spring rolls served with seasonal raw vegetables and a light, spicy sauce. For the main course he ordered them steamed fillet of sea bass, with braised seasonal vegetables served in vinaigrette with herbs. And finally, for dessert, he ordered tiramisu topped with mascarpone cream.
JJ enjoyed watching Irene take in the sights of Paris. He’d been here before but had never really looked at the city through her eyes. It truly was a magical, romantic place.
“James, this is so amazing. I can’t believe I’m in Paris!” Irene said, beaming.
“I’ve been here a couple of times. I’ve never really stopped and looked around. It’s pretty amazing.”
“Didn’t you go out and see the city?”
“We went out, all right. I did go with Rock to the Louvre.”
“The museum?”
“Believe it or not, Rock is a little bit of an art buff.”
“Is he?” Irene asked, surprised. “All of you men are so complicated. It’s really surprising how deep and intelligent you all are.”
“Not me,” JJ said, taking a drink of his scotch.
“Yes, you are. You speak all these languages, you dance, you read, you teach…James, you’re a very complex man.”
“Actually, I’m pretty simple when it comes down to it, sugar. It doesn’t take much to make me happy,” JJ said, taking her hand.
“Being happy means being fulfilled, and part of your wiring is lots of stimulation. You need to be moving, reading, and studying things around you. You, Mr. Jones, are a very intelligent and complicated man,” Irene said, running her foot up and down his leg.
JJ smiled. “Sugar, if you want a mini-tour of Paris, you need to quit doing that,” he warned. “Part of being fulfilled means finding someone who understands you and who you can share your secrets with. That was the hard part for me,” James said, lifting her hand and kissing it.
“Can we go to the Eiffel Tower?” Irene asked as the first course was served.
“Yes, it’s about a ten-minute walk from here, right over that bridge. Do you want to do it that way, or do you want to be driven over?” JJ asked.
“I’d rather walk,” Irene said, taking her first bite.
They finished their meal and JJ directed their driver to meet them at the park where the tower stood. They walked a couple of blocks to the arched Passerelle Debilly, a footbridge that spanned the River Seine. In the middle of the bridge JJ stopped Irene and directed her stare to the Eiffel Tower a few more blocks away.
“You know, when I was here the last time, Rock told me all about the architecture of this bridge. It sounded interesting. I wish I’d paid attention,” JJ said. He took Irene’s hands in his and looked at her a moment. “I was hoping you’d want to walk over here.” He kissed her hand.
“James, this is the first time in my life I can honestly say something is breathtaking and not be exaggerating. Now I know why Paris is on almost everyone’s bucket list.” Irene looked at the river and up to the tower.
“Sugar…” JJ said, cupping her face. Irene smiled and kissed him.
“Yes, what is it, James?”
JJ kissed her. “Will you marry me?”
“James…” Irene gasped.
JJ could tell the question caught her completely by surprise.
“I can’t live without you, Irene,” JJ said, kissing her. “It’ll be hell seeing you leave tomorrow.”
“James…You certainly make it hard for a woman to say no,” Irene said giggling.
“Don’t say no. I’ll settle for eventually right now,” JJ said. He could see unshed tears in her eyes. He took out the ring he’d bought her in Istanbul and slipped it on her finger. “What do you say, sugar?” JJ asked, holding his breath.
“Eventually!” Irene said, throwing her arms around him.
Irene kissed him, and JJ pulled her tightly against him as he closed his eyes in relief. He was thrilled she didn’t say no outright. He knew she needed more time, and that was okay as long as he could keep her close. They walked around the park where the Eiffel Tower stood and talked about Irene’s concerns and moving to Austin. It was a little after midnight when they got back to the room. Irene’s flight was leaving at ten in the morning. When they slid into bed, JJ could tell Irene was tired, so he pulled her close and slept with her cradled in his arms.
* * * *
Irene opened her eyes to the bright sunlight streaming into the room. She was hazy. All these time changes were really starting to take a toll. Irene squinted at the clock next to her bed. She closed her eyes and snuggled closer to James. Her eyes flew open when she realized she would be leaving for Texas in less than two hours.
“Damn it!” she cursed as she jumped from the bed.
“What’s wrong, sugar?” James mumbled sleepily.
“Jame
s! It’s eight fifteen! I’ve got to get dressed,” Irene snapped.
“Oh shit! We’ve got to get going, sugar.”
Irene rushed through her routine, making it as short as possible. She managed to get dressed and ready while James packed her stuff. They were out the door in thirty minutes, record time for Irene. James tucked Irene in a cab and gave the driver her destination. He handed Irene some euros, and she was off to the airport and Texas.
Chapter Twenty
Abandoned Clinic
Rue Pierre Curie
Muslim Quarter in Paris, France
March 13, 2009/1020 Zulu
Azad watched their victim take one of his last breaths. It was an awful, slow way to die. It started with a fever, then successive, painful organ failure. The young man had to be strapped to the table because he’d become violent as he fought impending death. The straps were now cutting into his ever-swelling flesh. Azad was sure all of the evil, wicked things this man had done in his life had been replaying in his mind as his fever climbed and he became more delusional.
The man and his gang of thugs were living in this abandoned small hospital near the River Seine. Sergei and Azad had managed to subdue this man when the gang realized they were out gunned. Sergei had injected a deadly combination of a tetanus vaccine and the bacteria that they’d perfected over the last month. Azad had seen lots of people die from his days as SAS and now as MI-6. This was by far the slowest and worst he’d ever seen.
Sergei only showed cold, clinical interest in the victim. He would check his vital signs and his ever-worsening prognosis only to walk away, ignoring the man’s pleas for help. Azad walked out of the room he couldn’t stomach watching this man die a slow, painful death. Out of mercy, he’d have shot the man by now if he they’d been left alone. He breathed with mental relief because there was an excuse to leave this horrible scene. He needed to check the tissue samples he’d been testing. As he walked away he knew the man he’d just left was short on time. His gray pallor and his rough, hissing breathing were sure signs he only had an hour or less left on his life clock. It was at this moment Bakri decided to show himself and seek out Azad.
“How are the tests going?” Bakri asked.
“Splendidly, the man’s dying a slow, horrible death,” Azad said sarcastically. “Excuse me, I have work to do.”
Azad walked to the lab where he found Sergei. He knew Jones should be arriving any minute now for the grand finale. His sense of timing was confirmed when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Jones had arrived. He and Sergei exchanged glances.
“Mr. Jones! Welcome!” they heard Bakri say.
“Let’s get on with this. I’ve got to be back in the States tomorrow, Mr. Bakri,” Jones said.
“Sergei, Azad! Come and meet our guest and our new associate,” Bakri called.
The men exchanged glances before walking out of the lab to meet Jones. As Jones came into view, Azad realized Mick hadn’t lied. He seemed just as cold and callous as Sergei. Azad observed Jones carefully appraise his surroundings. He watched Jones take note of the cameras and some of the security wondering the halls. He noticed Jones bristle slightly as one of the security guards passed him. Azad thought with some amusement that he was in the presence of two old, experienced tigers, both wise and very deadly.
“Mr. Jones, this is Dr. Azad Jobrani and Colonel Sergei Vaslliev. Colonel Vaslliev is our lead scientist, and Dr. Jobrani is his very capable assistant,” Bakri said proudly.
“Colonel,” Jones said, extending his hand.
“Mr. Jones,” Vaslliev said, coolly shaking Jones’s hand.
“Doctor,” Jones said, turning to Azad.
“Sir,” Azad said.
“Jobrani? What’s the origin of that name?” Jones asked.
“Persian, sir,” Azad said.
“Really? Are you the one that’s coming to work for Fitzgerald-Manheim?” Jones asked.
“I believe that’s plan, sir,” Azad said.
“So whatcha got?” Jones nodded in the direction of the lab.
“We have a test subject, twenty-three years of age. Male, approximately…” Sergei went on to describe the man that was dying in the other room as if he were a lab rat. Sergei led the group into the next room where the man was in worse shape than he’d been ten minutes ago. “As you can see, the patient has started to swell from kidney and liver failure. As his body has become more septic, other organs have started to fail…” Sergei explained with detachedness.
“How long has it taken?” Jones asked.
“About seventeen hours so far. We expect death any time now,” Sergei answered.
“All right. I’ve seen enough. How long will it take to mass produce this thing? Vaccines are constantly being delivered to our clientele. As you know, all new service members get a full battery of vaccines when they start their initial training phase. We have orders for one hundred thousand doses once a quarter. We can label your addition as a preservative,” Jones said.
“I can have the pathogen to you by the end of next month for that quantity. It takes approximately sixty days to produce,” Sergei said.
“By then, I think I can have Dr. Jobrani working for us,” Jones said.
Azad found it odd how these men were discussing the death and destruction of thousands of young lives as if they were talking about the weather.
“Very good, Mr. Jones. I’m so glad we can do business,” Bakri said happily.
“I’ve got a plane to catch. Nice to meet you, gentlemen. I’ll be in touch, Mr. Bakri,” Jones said.
The three men turned at the sound of a soft voice from the doorway. They had unknowingly been joined by four men with guns and two women. One of the women was clearly a hostage because one of the gunmen was holding a gun to her head.
“Where’s my son, JJ?” Katrina demanded harshly.
Azad’s blood ran cold. Where the bloody hell is our security? Katrina and another woman who seemed to know Jones were waiting for an answer. The other woman had been the one that called to Jones. Bloody hell! The snatch-and-grab team wasn’t due for another fifteen minutes. That was a lifetime in this sort of business. Azad, Jones, and this other woman were apparently all trapped.
* * * *
“What the fuck do you mean no one’s there?” Rock demanded from Lieutenant Gamez. The young Lieutenant was leading the team for this particular operation. Snatch and grab.
“Captain, there ain’t nothing here but corpses,” Gamez said.
“Activate the chip,” Rock ordered Petty Officer Pentamore, who was seated next to him in the van.
Thank God JJ had agreed to be microchipped while he was in Bahrain. PO Pentamore activated the tracking device and turned to Rock, who was anxiously watching the screen.
“Come on, JJ, where the fuck are you?” Rock demanded from the screen.
A few seconds seemed like an eternity. Finally they saw a blip on the map.
“He’s five clicks away from where he said he would be,” PO Pentamore informed.
“Lieutenant, I have your coordinates…” Rock filled Lieutenant Gamez in on the new location. “Get the fuck over there, something’s gone wrong!” Rock ordered.
Rock did a mental calculation. It would be at least another twenty minutes before the team would be in position to strike. They’d be almost forty minutes over their timetable. JJ could be dead by now. Rock recalled with a shiver of fear what he’d experienced with his own wife in this very sort of situation. Having Irene return early was for the best, even though he had caught some serious hell from JJ. Rock recalled the conversation.
“Stay the fuck out of my life, Rock!” JJ shouted angrily.
“You don’t know what the hell it feels like, JJ! I had a front-row seat watching someone I love almost die! Quit thinking with your fucking dick!” Rock shouted back.
“Rock…” JJ started.
“JJ, listen to me. Please. If anything happens to her and she gets hurt or, God forbid, dies, you’ll never forgive y
ourself. Believe me, I know,” Rock interjected. JJ turned away from him. “Not only will you have to deal with that, but you’ll also have to explain this to Amy and Gavin. Please, JJ, listen to me. The safest place for Irene is home.”
A long, tense moment passed before JJ spoke. “All right, Rock, but after this, I’m done. Do you understand me?”
Rock hated losing such a good SEAL, but it was a trade-off and one he was willing to accept. Thank God Irene went home…
Chapter Twenty-One
Unknown Location
Paris, France
March 13, 2009/1526 Zulu
“Again,” Kathy ordered.
This time the blow was to his left kidney. JJ squeezed his eyes. It was getting hard to breathe from all the pain. Fuck! That hurt! The two men with Kathy Wilson had been beating him since they’d brought him here over an hour ago. So far, there had been two of these rounds of beatings. Kathy was one vicious bitch and had learned a thing or two from her underhanded son. She would wait for the pain to subside just enough for JJ to breathe again before she had her thugs start all over.
“Katrina!” Sergei called from the door. “We need to speak,” he said in Russian.
“Come on,” Kathy ordered her thugs to follow as she left the room.
JJ took a deep breath and took his mind to another place. The pain he was enduring was unbearable. It had been a long time since he’d suffered this sort of punishment. Kathy was even more sadistic than her dead son. JJ managed to get his breathing to return to normal and listened to the conversation right outside the door. His swollen eyes widened at what he’d just heard. Fuck! Kathy Wilson is a Russian sleeper agent? Is that her game? JJ fought to clear his mind from concentrating on his constant and blinding pain. He and the team had made a guess as to the reasons why she would be involved. Most of them centered around money and power. Never would they have guessed she was an actual agent. He searched his memory to piece together what he knew about Rafe and the entire Wilson family. Congressman Wilson had just been reelected to a fifth term. Rafe and his sister had been adopted by Congressman and Mrs. Wilson when they were ten. According to JJ’s calculations that meant Katrina Wilson had been in the US for at least thirty years. Meaning she had come to the US around 1979, right in the middle of the Cold War. JJ smiled slightly. If people think the Cold War is over, they're crazy as shit. It will never be over.
