*
Flic lay on top of Anna, both facedown, and pushed her fingers deep inside. Anna drew a sharp intake of breath. Flic loved being the cause of that joy.
It was late one evening, and because the days had rolled into one, Flic had no idea what day or date it was, just that it was, at a guess, about a week since Anna arrived. Not one night had passed without them making love, and tonight was no different.
“Can you move up to your knees?” Flic removed her fingers and slid off Anna.
It surprised her, but nothing she asked of Anna seemed to shock or intimidate her, and it wasn’t as if Anna was shy about pushing the boundaries of her own comfort zone. They shared a giggle when things didn’t run smoothly, when a position just wouldn’t work, and on more than one occasion, Anna asked for more or something different, knowing what it would take to reach orgasm. Flic realized that Anna’s most alluring characteristic was her genuine openness. Of course, she remained nervous at times, a little apprehensive, and occasionally unsure of her own prowess, but the new Anna—the Anna that loved Flic—was a tower of strength and absolutely everything Flic needed.
Anna moved to her knees and rested her head on her arms. “I feel a bit exposed like this.”
Flic was quick to respond. “We can change if you like.”
“No. I’ve fantasized about it this way. I just never thought what it would feel like with someone kneeling behind me staring at my arse.”
They both laughed.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you have a great arse.” Flic encircled both bottom cheeks with her tongue and reached beneath Anna to fondle her breasts. She bit her backside.
“Ouch!”
Without another word, Flic straightened and slid the palm of her left hand along Anna’s spine. At the same time, she entered her again, intent on finishing what she had begun.
“I wish we had something to use,” muttered Anna.
“How do you mean?” Flic slowed her thrusting hand to a gentle pulse.
“I just feel like—Oh, it doesn’t matter.”
“No, what? Tell me, please.”
“I don’t even know if you like toys or things or whatever they’re called, but I’d love you to somehow be inside me, to you know…”
Flic smiled as Anna struggled to say the word. “You mean fuck you?” Anna never ceased to surprise her.
Anna sighed. “Yes. But at the same time have your hands free and maybe on my hips.”
“When we get out of here we can go shopping.”
“In an actual store?”
Flic laughed at the dread in Anna’s voice. “Or online.” She reached around and caressed Anna’s clit as the tips of her fingers concentrated on her G-spot.
Anna let out a deep moan.
“That’s better. Now no more talk, okay?”
*
Although Flic and Anna had explored eastward toward the sea many times, today was such a horrible day they wanted to avoid the coastal wind and venture inland. There were so few people around, especially in the unpredictable weather, that Flic had assured Ethan they would only be gone for an hour and his escort wasn’t required. He’d taken one look at the blustery conditions and agreed, telling them not to walk more than an hour’s distance from the house and to walk due west, no deviations.
The initial stage of the walk required them to negotiate the hill behind the farmhouse. After only fifteen minutes, with the wind propelling them upward, Flic stopped.
“It’ll be hell on the way back into this bloody wind.” She turned to face the sea, and the cold air whipped about her face, cutting through her scarf and hat.
She spotted a black car weave along the dirt road toward the house.
“At least we have some respite heading west first.” Anna panted and tucked her trousers into her socks.
It looked like a BMW.
“It might blow like this for days,” said Anna.
Flic couldn’t be sure at this distance, but it could also have been a Mercedes.
“We should just soldier on.”
The occupants of the car could be lost.
Anna raised her voice against the wind. “You know how it is in England. If we didn’t go out in rubbish weather, we’d never get out.”
That was true. There was no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing.
Flic took in the surrounding area. The black car was on the road to their safe house. It was either lost, or the driver knew exactly where they were going.
“No wonder I gain weight in the winter. Months of this and too much hibernation,” said Anna.
The black car slowed to a crawl.
“I should have packed some thermal trousers. I wonder should we suggest the south of Spain might be a great location for a safe house.”
Flic stared at the car.
“Hello? Earth to Felicity.”
It was true that Flic had been preoccupied since Anna had arrived, but she knew the agents’ routines inside and out. The team guarding her, and now Anna, operated like a precision timepiece. Not one change of shift had occurred late, and although she’d only bothered to study the roster magnetized to the refrigerator once, she knew Leo was on his days off and Ethan was currently in the house, three hours into his shift. Relief wasn’t scheduled until later that evening.
“Sorry. I’m just catching my breath.”
The black car stopped.
From behind, Anna slid her arms around Flic’s waist and seductively kissed her neck. “I can think of a few little indoor activities that might raise our heart rate if you’d prefer?”
Flic watched as a figure emerged from the vehicle below.
The wind howled. The top of the hill loomed above them, and as soon as they commenced descending the other side, the wind would be tolerable.
“I think we should continue on.” Flic watched as the figure pulled something from the vehicle. She couldn’t be sure what it was because the person was on the far side of the car, the driver’s side.
“Well, that’s a knock back if ever I heard one.”
From this distance, Flic wasn’t sure what the person behind the black car was doing until she saw something being lifted onto the roof of the car.
“Run!”
Flic grabbed Anna by the hand and hauled her up the hill. The thick damp grass—the reason why Anna had tucked her socks into her trousers—made it difficult to gain any speed.
Before Anna could object, or Flic could offer any explanation, she heard a cracking sound, and although the wind was blowing and in reality she knew it was such a low probability, she could have sworn a tuft of grass beside her exploded. From the horrified expression on Anna’s face, she just realized they had been shot at.
At a push, they were no more than four hundred meters from the farmhouse. Flic knew that on a calm day, she would probably be dead now. Her security team had talked a lot about what could influence a good shot, and unpredictable winds were at the top of their list for a missed target. Just minutes ago, she cursed the wind. Now it was their saving grace. She prayed a wayward bullet wouldn’t hit Anna.
A split second after the second cracking noise, Flic hit the ground. She thought back to the incident in Paris, and it momentarily amused her how stupid she was to have even considered she’d been shot back then. With the most agonizing, burning pain ripping through her shoulder, she now knew firsthand what it felt like to have a bullet penetrate your body.
Anna shrieked.
Facedown on the sodden grass, Flic’s body flinched again as a second bullet tore through her side. Had the breath not have already been taken from her, she would have screamed.
It was the second bullet that seemed to jolt Anna into action. Nothing like a repeat performance to silence your doubts. At first, she screamed—short, piercing, and terrified, but then instinct seemed to take over. “Fucking hell!” She hauled Flic to her feet. “Get up, please, just get up!”
Flic felt like her entire left side was crippled and
knotting in agony, but she was overwhelmed with relief to know her legs were willing to cooperate.
The apex of the hill loomed tantalizingly close, and as Anna gripped Flic around the waist, her fingers pressed tightly below the bullet wound. The pain was so intense she was afraid she might pass out.
The shooter was relentless. Another shot cracked through the wind, and when neither Flic nor Anna dropped to the ground, she assumed he had missed.
Crack!
The sound of a rifle was the most terrifying noise Flic had ever heard. To be shot at, to know someone was trying to end your life, was horrifying in the least. Although not consciously forming the thought, Flic was aware her life could end at any moment. She began to ignore the pain.
Anna began to weave back and forth—difficult when you’re trudging uphill through thick grass. The movement made Flic feel disorientated, but she gripped Anna with her good arm and simply held on.
Crack, crack. Crack.
Three more shots, fired in desperate succession, pierced the wind, and as they reached the top of the hill, Anna pushed Flic headfirst over the brow before following her. The pain was excruciating, but Flic knew it was the most efficient way to get her head and torso out of the firing line.
Although filled with adrenaline, Flic wasn’t convinced she couldn’t prevent herself from passing out. Anna was by her side in moments.
“There’s two isn’t there?” Anna was frantic. “Flic! Answer me, just two, right?”
Flic nodded and looked down. The bullet had passed through her shoulder, and it was bleeding a lot, but it was nothing compared to the shot on her side. There was no exit wound. The bullet remained inside her and it hurt like hell.
Before she could even speak, Anna was hauling her into a sitting position to tightly wrap her scarf around her waist. The pressure on the wound caused her to scream in absolute anguish. At least she’d found her voice. “Is he coming after us?”
The sound of two more bullets pierced the air. She wasn’t sure, but Flic thought they might have been coming from a different direction. They certainly sounded sharper, as if from a handgun, not a rifle.
Anna was unzipping her jacket.
“Do we need to keep going, Anna?”
Anna wrapped her jacket firmly around Flic’s shoulder.
The thought of the shooter discarding the rifle to pursue them on foot with a handgun sent the most nauseating stab of panic through her. A fit man, or woman—the gender was irrelevant—chasing them would catch them in no time. The killer could probably reach the top of the hill before Flic could even run barely half the distance with her wound.
She made the most agonizing decision, but it was the only decision.
“You have to leave me.”
Anna stared at her in horrified disbelief.
“I’m his target, not you. He won’t chase you after his job is done.” It wasn’t in her nature to beg, but she had to make Anna see sense. “Please, Anna, don’t make me watch you die. Please, just run and keep running and don’t look back.”
Valuable time was ticking.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Damn it, Anna, just go!”
Anna hauled Flic to her feet. “If I go, we both go.”
“Anna, no. I’ll slow you down.”
“If you don’t want to watch me die, Flic, I suggest you shut up and move your bloody legs. Now run!”
She’d lost a lot of blood, but somehow Flic managed to persuade her legs to move. It was barely a jog, let alone a run, but even this slight chance of survival was better than lying in wait for a cold-blooded killer to shoot her in the back of the head.
Her legs burned with the effort. Her body was attempting to do too many things at once, all of which required precious blood and oxygen. She knew they only had until the killer reached the peak of the hill to put any real distance between them. After that, they were sitting ducks, and with the wind blowing considerably less on the west side of the hill, she imagined the shooter would be more accurate the next time he fired his gun.
Before too long, Flic calculated they had probably been struggling down the hill and through the fields for longer than it would have taken a fit man to reach the top of the hill. Had he simply given up?
“Where is he? Can you see him?” Loathed to halt their momentum, she turned back toward the hill. “He should be there by now, surely.”
Anna only gave the hill a cursory glance before gripping the waistband of Flic’s jeans and hauling her back into action. “I don’t care where the bastard is. We have to keep going.”
Flic didn’t want to care either, but she did, and Anna was right; either way, they should keep going. The sooner they found shelter, the sooner they could try to get help. She felt naked without her phone. Somehow, the Order of Purity had found her, and it obviously wasn’t through sheer good luck on their behalf. It begged the question, however, how did they find her?
They traipsed no more than fifty meters before they heard yelling.
Flic heard her name.
They both turned to see Ethan running down the hill toward them.
Flic collapsed into Anna and began to cry.
Chapter Twenty-eight
There was something deliriously satisfying about being bounced toward the farmhouse on a trailer, behind a tractor, and over fields with a rescue helicopter approaching. The police obviously hadn’t identified a four-wheel drive as an imperative addition to their equipment, preferring the speed and agility of the sedan vehicles instead, so a tractor from a nearby farmer it was. Although every movement sent stabbing pain through Flic’s entire left side, the fact that Ethan had confirmed the shooter, Tommaso Rosa, was dead and his mate, Joseph Stephan, was in custody, traced through Tommaso’s mobile phone, was enough to lift Flic’s spirits—even in her current, less than adequate condition.
Ethan assured her her injuries weren’t life threatening as long as she was delivered to hospital safely and with haste. It was his gun that she had heard shooting two quick bullets, both apparently hitting Rosa, killing him instantly. She thanked God Ethan was a better shot than he was. She had been wrong, however. She had thought it was a handgun, but it was actually a high-powered MI5 issue rifle. Ethan was impressed she’d noticed a difference in the shots at all.
Although not yet confirmed, Ethan suspected there was a mole working within MI5. It was the only solution to the Order discovering, on two occasions, where she was hiding. He confirmed with a bit of digging it wouldn’t be hard to find the culprit, but until then, he refused to leave Flic’s side.
“Who says you aren’t the mole?” Flic was beyond grateful to Ethan for saving her life, but she was also beyond political correctness, too.
“That’s a good question. I can see why you’re a writer.” He winked at Anna. “But I’ve had plenty of opportunity to knock you off. If you’ve survived this far, I’m a lousy assassin.”
Flic knew it was true. Ethan was one of the good guys. “Thank you for being such a good shot.”
“It’s just good fortune it’s a windy day. Under more favorable conditions, the outcome may have been disastrous.”
“Well, you got him in the end.”
Ethan’s eyes lowered.
“What is it?” asked Anna.
“I should have had him earlier, but the wind caused the sound of the shots to ricochet back and forth between the buildings. For the first three shots, I was concentrating on looking for him on the wrong side of the house. I was looking out the northwest windows when I should have been on the southwest side.” He shook his head at his mistake.
Anna shrugged as the tractor came to a standstill in an open area behind the farmhouse. It was becoming difficult to hear from the sound of the helicopter approaching. “I didn’t see him at all.” She yelled. “I’m just glad you two had it covered.”
The paramedics on the helicopter were clinically professional and quick to assess Flic’s damage, radioing ahead to St. James’s University Hospital
in Leeds with an ETA in under an hour. Flic knew she would inevitably require surgery after scans. There was a bullet floating around inside her somewhere, but at least she wasn’t critical. The pain medication worked within minutes, and pretty soon she could barely feel a thing.
Only the slightest hint of color had returned to Anna’s cheeks by the time the helicopter landed, but it soon faded. Although comfortable for Flic—all drugged up and flat on her back—the bumpy ride and probably a hard dose of reality proved too much for Anna. She vomited the entire contents of her stomach before the paramedic jabbed her with a needle to make it stop.
*
After the rocky ride in the helicopter, Anna was taking the situation in her stride. Flic loved her more every day.
Agent Stark, in contrast, had just entered Flic’s hospital room sporting an awkward smile.
“If you tell me one bit of bad news, I’ll throw you out of here,” said Flic.
Stark raised her eyebrows and flashed a charming smile before she said, “There’s no delicate way to say this, but the leak concerning your whereabouts in the safe houses came from us.”
“What?”
Stark shifted her weight. “It was one of us. MI5.”
“Bloody hell.” Flic was pleased to learn the truth, it just wasn’t what she’d expected to hear. “How and why?”
“The short version; your book pissed him off.”
“Him and millions of others.” Flic wondered if she’d ever be safe again. “Was he a member of the Order?”
“No. Well, we don’t think so. He denies a connection to them and we can’t make one stick. It looks like he sold the information for a hefty sum.”
“But it was my book that pissed him off. It just happened to piss him off with a price tag.” Flic shook her head. “His moral high ground just sunk into the shit. How dare he make this about religion? The moment he accepted money it became something else altogether.”
Anna glanced at the machines Flic was connected to. Flic knew her heart rate was increasing.
The Fifth Gospel Page 24
