The door slid open and shut quietly behind her and she felt someone lean heavily against the rail beside her. She didn’t say anything, keeping her eyes closed and her face tipped up to the sky, needing him to go away but also needing him to stay. Such a funny thing, she thought, to need so many things from one person and expect he could give them to her. But at this point, Quincy knew Logan well enough to know he wasn’t going to let the conversation drop. Not like that. And she needed to apologize. She might have been devastated but that didn’t give her the right to lash out at him.
She dropped her head onto her arms where they were crossed over the railing. Without looking at him, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” he replied, forgiveness lacing easily through his voice.
“How do you do that?” she asked, finally turning her head to look over at him. He was standing in the same position she was, arms crossed over a coat he had draped over the railing, body braced over them, but his head was up, looking out at the landscape as it sped past them. He always seemed to be looking.
“Do what?”
“Let things go so easily,” she said, amazed and frustrated all at once. “What I said about Jones - that was wrong. And mean.”
“Well,” he glanced over at her. “Are you sorry?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Then no ‘buts’. It’s done.” And he turned back out to the landscape again, not seeming bothered in the least.
“Okay,” she said, raising up and turning to prop her back against the rail. “But you still followed me out here and I know you have something to say. So just go ahead and say it.”
He sighed. “I don’t want to upset you. Or make it worse than it already is.”
“But?” she said, knowing that wasn’t going to stop him.
“But,” he agreed. He seemed to gather his thoughts, rolling them around in his head a little to see if they were right. “You and Jones might have the same condition but you’re not the same, not really. I need you to know that. I need you to know that you’re so much stronger than he ever was.” Logan said.
“That’s just not true,” Quincy replied softly. “Jones was your partner. Your best friend. He was a soldier who saw and did terrible things. You both did. Of course he was strong.”
She could tell it had been hard for him to say, but he pressed on. “He was strong when he was strong, if that makes any sense.”
Logan looked down and smiled. “I remember this one time, we were in Kuwait, maybe? We had this car we had cleared of mines and explosives and brought into camp where it promptly died. Nothing the mechanics did made a difference. A bunch of the guys were messing around off-duty and joking that maybe we could just pick it up and carry it out of the way.”
Now he laughed. “It was this big, rusted bucket of bolts and metal, ugly as sin and just as heavy. No one could pick that thing up. But Jones? He decided he could do it. The guys gave him a hard time, said if he could pick it up, they’d take his mess duty for a month. And that was that.” Logan looked over at her. “Jones was competitive that way.”
“And did he do it?” Quincy asked. “Did he manage to pick it up?”
“He did,” Logan said. “He got the front end up about three inches.” He was silent for a minute, lost in the memory. “Physically, Jones was maybe the strongest man I knew. He could tackle any challenge. But the injury, the way it impaired him? Mentally he just couldn’t take it. He couldn’t stand how his hearing had changed, how it affected everything else in his life. He didn’t want to work on it, he didn’t want to learn to use it. His purpose was to be a soldier and without that, he wasn’t interested in going on. That’s not strength,” Logan said fiercely. “That’s stubbornness and selfishness. He was too stubborn to even try to adapt and selfish enough to not care about how his death would affect me. And I don’t think you are either of those things.”
Quincy looked away. “You don’t think I can be stubborn and selfish?” she asked, unable to meet Logan’s eyes.
“Oh, I know you can be both. Just look at what brought us here.” Quincy flinched, knowing he was right.
“But you care about things. You see people and you get to know them, even when you don’t let them get to know you. Just look at the friendships you made in Sheraton. And the girl you saved at the bus depot? You could have walked away but you didn’t. If there’s even the slightest chance you can use your own pain to help save someone else from a terrible fate, you will.”
Well, he had her there. She wouldn’t wish the Colonel or his company on anyone else.
“And you care that you hurt my feelings with your comment about Jones. If you care that much about causing me a little pain, you care too much to kill yourself and put me through that kind of hell all over again.”
He let his words drop like stones and Quincy absorbed the impact like ripples through the water. He handed her the coat he’d brought with him and when she took it, he put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently before turning and going back inside. She hadn’t even noticed she was cold until then. She pushed her arms into the sleeves of the coat, zipping it up and letting it swallow her before turning back to the railing, closing her eyes again. He was right, of course. He always seemed to be, though. They hadn’t known each other long but she did know he shared himself freely with others. Her exact opposite. By spending time with her, saving her life over and over, he had given her a piece of himself, just like he had with Jones. And Jones had taken that piece of Logan with him when he died. No. When he killed himself. Dying in the war or in some kind of accident, or even cancer, would have been different. Logan could have grieved and moved on, knowing there was nothing he could have done for his friend. Choosing to end his own life was much worse because Logan would never know if there was something he could have done differently and without knowing that, he would never be able to move on. And she would never be able to force that pain on Logan again. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Which meant she would need to resign herself to a life, however much she had left, of dealing with her issues, no matter how painful and or exhausting they might be. But she wasn’t convinced she would be able to do that either.
The door behind her slid open and closed again. “What does a girl have to do to get some space, huh?”
When he didn’t answer, she rolled her eyes. “I don’t really feel like talking about this anymore.”
“That’s alright,” the Colonel answered. “There’s nothing left to say anyway.”
Chapter 61
The Colonel
Finally, this would be finished. He should have finished it last night when he’d found her jogging. She had been alone and vulnerable, with no avenue of escape. He realized now that it had been a mistake to try to take her alive. She had been slippery from the first and his pride had been wounded, causing him to make choices he wouldn’t have normally made. But no matter. He would rectify the situation now. He had waited for hours, watching as they had their drinks, and then waiting as they went into their room and stayed for hours. He didn’t bother considering what they might be doing. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they come out. His plan was to wait until they left the train when it made a stop. Once they were off, he could follow them to whatever escape route they had planned next. There were always ways of drawing someone off the well-beaten path. The girl had proven she was empathetic. He could easily use that against her. Empathy was weakness and innocent bystanders were sharp weapons that could be wielded with ease. The soldier would be more of a problem, the Colonel knew. He would need to be dealt with first but he wasn’t concerned. He would adapt and fit his plan to the circumstances, just like always.
He had taken it as providence when the door of their compartment had opened and the girl had rushed out alone. Where was she heading? The Colonel made his way after her, making sure to stay well out of her line of sight. He ducked into a side bathroom when she stopped and he watched as she slid through a door and stepped out
onto what looked like an outdoor platform. Who knew this train had a balcony car? He wondered idly if they experienced many lawsuits because of it. Regardless, it was an unexpected opportunity, one which he didn’t plan to miss. He watched as the girl leaned over the railing, head tipping up and eyes closing. She was perfectly, completely unaware of her surroundings.
The Colonel slid his own door open, preparing to step out, when the soldier came striding down the hallway. Of course. Could the man not leave her alone for five minutes? The Colonel watched impatiently as the soldier went out onto the deck, noting the almost silent slide of the door. Helpful. The soldier’s body language gave so much of what he was thinking and feeling away, the Colonel noted clinically. Inefficient for undercover ops or wet work. He must have been a grunt. Or one of the brute ground forces that operated as battering rams wherever they were sent. The Colonel had uses for those men, of course. But all the better when they came to him with both skill sets. The soldier straightened and handed the girl a coat and then...he walked away.
The Colonel could barely believe his luck. The man was actually leaving her alone. Outside, where no one else could see her. He waited until the soldier disappeared down the hallway before slipping out of the bathroom. He stopped long enough to slide out his knife and cut the long silk cord holding the curtains, winding a length of it around his hand and letting the curtains cover the doors before stepping out onto the balcony. It was just one more stroke of luck, he thought, that no one else was utilizing this car. The chill of the day helped, he supposed. The girl heard him but didn’t turn. She seemed affectionately annoyed though, when she spoke.
“What does a girl have to do to get some space, huh?”
He didn’t answer, using these last few seconds before he was exposed to move closer. His silence seemed to spark something in her.
“I don’t really feel like talking about this anymore,” she said and he took the opening.
“That’s alright,” he replied smoothly. “There’s nothing left to say anyway.”
The girl spun around, instinctively trying to put some distance between her and the closeness of his voice, but it was in vain. He was only feet away and she had nothing but railing and open air at her back. His priority was speed and silence and he stepped the rest of the way up against her, wrapping the cord smoothly around her neck, instantly cutting off her oxygen supply. The girl made a gasping sound, hands reaching up to claw at the cord. Strangulation could be quick, when done correctly. Using his knife would have been even faster but the evidence trail would be difficult to cover and he’d rather not give cause for alarm. He was trapped on this train until it stopped, after all. So he watched as the girl struggled, hands leaving the cord and reaching out for him, searching for some kind of purchase, some weakness to exploit. Tears were rolling from her eyes, soaking into the cord and leaving a trail of wetness down her face, which was turning a very unnatural shade of red. It would be over soon, he knew. It was a difficult thing to watch the life bleed slowly out of someone under your own hand but he had shed that weakness long ago. To him, it was nothing more than the passage of time.
“You know,” he said, “you should take pride in the fact that you have been the only one to ever elude me. And I should thank you. You revealed a weakness in my organization that I have since eradicated.”
She made a noise, the sound gurgling around the cord at her throat, barely audible over the rush of the wind and the noise of the tracks.
“Mr. Auberdeen was never a good fit anyway. I suppose I allowed sentimentality to rule when I hired him. But he won’t be a problem anymore.”
The girl’s hands slapped weakly at his wrists, begging for air.
“You should know it took him much less time to die than you. Again, you should be proud.”
He stepped forward, pressing the girl’s body against the rail. Once she was dead, her body would topple over the balcony and disappear. The soldier would likely realize what had happened but the Colonel planned to be long gone by then.
“It was a good game,” he said, watching as her eyes slowly closed.
Chapter 62
The Colonel
When the pain came, it was unexpected. The Colonel was watching the life drain slowly from the girl’s eyes, planning his next steps, when something hard and heavy slammed against his head. He staggered but managed to maintain a one-handed hold on the cord. At least until he felt the second blow, this one shattering the crystal decanter across his head. It was a testament to the strength of the swing and not the hardness of his own head, he thought, that caused it to break. He had made note of those as possible weapons himself, thanks to their sturdy, expensive design. He rolled fluidly to his feet, sweeping up a large shard of the decanter in his left hand. It cut into his palm but he ignored it. The girl was on the ground, silent and still, and the soldier stood between them, bracing for a fight.
“Colonel,” the soldier said, more a statement of fact than a question.
The Colonel sighed. “You just can’t leave her alone, can you?” he remarked dryly.
“I keep trying,” the soldier answered, adjusting his position as the Colonel stepped to the side, looking for an opening. “But she just seems to keep finding trouble without me.”
“Hmm.” The Colonel slid his free hand into his pants pocket, coming up with his knife. “No, I don’t think that’s it.” The soldier didn’t respond, just watched as the Colonel shifted the opposite direction.
“I don’t think you can leave her be. I think you just can’t let go of the past.”
“What do you know about my past?” the soldier asked curiously.
“I can make some educated guesses. You were a soldier, served several tours overseas. You’ve seen combat,” he said. “Some things are obvious when you know what to look for.”
“I’ve never tried to hide my service.” The soldier shifted back slightly, enough to nudge the girl with his boot. “Quincy?”
“She’s still breathing, if that helps. For now.”
The soldier looked back at him. “I plan to make sure it stays that way.”
“No,” the Colonel said, shaking his head slowly. “I’m afraid not. She’s unfortunately outlived her usefulness. My company will have to move on without her. It is a pity, though. She did make things interesting.”
The girl made a noise, a small, soft cough followed by a wheeze, the soldier relaxed infinitesimally, and the Colonel narrowed his eyes. He needed to finish this. Now.
“I did some research on you Lt. Davies.” He tilted his head to the side. “Your Lt. Jones would have been on my list, too, if he hadn’t taken the coward’s way out.”
The soldier narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond. Interesting. And unfortunate. This one wouldn’t be goaded into a confrontation. Instead, he lowered himself down next to the girl, making sure to keep his eyes on the Colonel at all times, and reached for her shoulder. She was still wheezing, but her hands were fumbling weakly at the cord still wrapped around her neck. The Colonel waited until Lt. Davies had his hand on the girl, his attention divided, and then he surged forward.
Chapter 63
Logan
The Colonel surged forward, aiming a steel-toed boot at his face. Logan was out of position to avoid the attack and he refused to allow the Colonel to maneuver into Quincy’s space. He managed to block the kick with his body, taking the brunt of it on his shoulder. It set him back on his heels but he managed to stay upright. The Colonel used his off-balance position to swing his knife around, burying it in the same shoulder Logan had taken the kick in. Suddenly, the old guy didn’t look so old to Logan. He swept out a leg, missing the Colonel’s ankles but managing to force enough of a retreat to give him some breathing room. Logan jerked the cord away from Quincy’s neck, relieved to see she was starting to come around, and turned his full attention to the Colonel, who had backed off and was sizing up the situation. Logan was doing that himself. He had his own knife, of course, but he didn’t know if it
was smart to bring it into play. There were already two sharp objects in the room, although it would be nice to have one of his own. But if he used the knife, he would leave a blood trail. His own blood was already soaking into the wood of the balcony of course, but it could be cleaned up easily enough. If either of them struck a killing blow with the knife, there would be no way to hide it. Not that the Colonel seemed to care much about that. He looked like he was okay with any option.
“You know,” the Colonel said blandly, “you’re wasting your talents with the doctor.”
The Colonel shifted and Logan mirrored the movement, not bothering to respond. “You have exceptional training, I can see that. The company I work for pays well for your brand of talent and skill set.”
He tried one more time. “Is the good doctor even paying you for your services? I would doubt it very much. He’s on his own, with no resources. You’re still young. You could do very well on my team.”
The Colonel’s eyes dropped to Logan’s knee, assessing for weakness there. Evaluating whether it was a good point of attack.
“I don’t need to do ‘very well’ on a team of assassins.”
The Colonel’s eyes wandered back up. If he was surprised by Logan’s decision to participate in the conversation, he didn’t show it.
“The army can’t pay you much in the way of a pension. You’re too young to have put in your twenty. Or was it the Marines?”
“Army,” Logan clipped out. “And we don’t work for money.”
“Ah. I see,” the Colonel murmured. “An idealist. Was your partner an idealist too? I wouldn’t think so, considering his actions at the end. I wonder,” the Colonel said, head tipped slightly to the left, “what he would have done if the situation were reversed. If you’d been the one injured and left in agony, unable to go back to the country who abandoned you. Would he have searched tirelessly for an answer? Would he have doggedly pursued a solution? Been a stable source of support and encouragement? Or would he have gone back to his unit, wishing you well and promising to check in when he could? Considering the fact you didn’t make much of a difference in his choice to die, I would assume the latter.”
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