Dead Aim

by Iris Johansen

He hurried back into the hotel.

  “Sit down.” Morgan put a bowl of steaming stew down on a place mat at the kitchen table. “You must be hungry. I didn't give you much time to eat dinner before I called in the alarm.”

  “That was totally irresponsible. Someone could have been hurt.”

  “It was a judgment call. There was a bigger chance of you being hurt if I didn't get you out of there.” He sat down across the table from her. “So I got you out. Eat your stew.”

  “How do I know you didn't put something in it?”

  He smiled. “You don't.”

  But it wasn't likely. As he'd said before, he could have killed her at any time while she was lying there helpless. She picked up her spoon and dipped it into the stew. “How long was I unconscious?”

  “Not too long.” He offered her a bowl of rolls. “I'm not going to tell you how long because you'd immediately start trying to figure out how close we are to Denver. The less you know, the better for me.”

  “I will get away from here.” She smiled through bared teeth. “And then I'll make sure you and Logan are punished.”

  “Logan too? But won't that hurt your friend Sarah?”

  “He had no right to—” But there was no way she could hurt Sarah. She drew a deep breath. She'd think about Logan later. “I'm not even sure Logan did hire you.”

  “I know. That's why I'm going to let you talk to him after dinner.”

  “What?”

  “This situation is going to be difficult enough. It will make it easier for both of us if you believe I'm here to protect, not hurt, you.” He took a bite of stew. “Anger is okay, but I don't want you to be afraid of me. Fear sucks.”

  “I'm not afraid of you.”

  “Yes, you are.” He gave her a steady glance. “Not all the time. It comes and goes, but it's there.”

  “And who are you to analyze—” She stopped as she met his gaze. “I'd be stupid not to be wary of someone who's just kidnapped me.”

  “Be wary. Wary is smart.” He smiled slightly. “And you're very smart.”

  “How do you know?” She remembered the remark about her fireman father. “You've managed to get a dossier on me.”

  He nodded. “And it was very interesting reading.”

  “I'm glad I could entertain you.”

  “Entertain isn't quite the word. Your career has led you into some pretty rough scrapes. It's a wonder you were able to wriggle out of some of them.” He got up from the table to bring a pot of coffee from the counter. “For instance, when you shot that terrorist in Iran, I'd have bet against your chances of getting out of the country alive. You did all the wrong things to preserve your neck.”

  “Like what?”

  “You trusted someone in the Embassy to arrange to smuggle you out. The Embassy is always too visible. You waited two days to head for the border. It should have given the terrorist group time to find you. They must have had extremely poor intelligence and leadership.” He poured coffee into her cup. “And you didn't kill your target.”

  “I'm not a murderer. I was there to get a story. I shot Al Habim in self-defense.”

  “And because you didn't kill him, he came after you again in Cairo. If the CIA hadn't had you under surveillance, you could have been history.”

  “Why do you think they had me under surveillance? Do you think I'm stupid? I knew Al Habim would come looking for me. I was hoping the CIA would catch him and be able to extract information.”

  “Excellent.” He smiled. “But evidently the Company had reasons to want him dead. So you might as well have done it yourself and saved everyone the trouble.”

  “Is that what you would have done?”

  “Every case is different, but I tend to lean toward keeping myself alive and in one piece. The CIA is always a wild card. There are too many politicians with too many agendas whirling around them.”

  “You talk as if you know.”

  “I have a certain familiarity with them.” He lifted his cup to his lips. “I have a great admiration for many of their agents, but I've found that no one but me has quite the same desire to maintain my health and well-being.”

  “I can see why,” she said through her teeth.

  “My, what bitterness. Are you only tolerant when it concerns terrorists?”

  “I'm not tolerant of anyone who interferes with my life or freedom.” She pushed back her chair. “And now I want to talk to John Logan. Call him.”

  “Whatever you say. I'm surprised you waited this long.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Logan? Judd Morgan. Alex Graham wants to talk to you.” He handed her the phone, rose to his feet, and began stacking the dishes. “Give him hell. I shouldn't be the only one suffering.”

  She ignored him. “Logan?”

  “Sorry, Alex. I didn't want to do this.”

  She recognized his voice. Until this moment she hadn't really believed what Morgan had said. “Bullshit. You tell this bastard to let me go.”

  “I can't do it. I told you where my priority lies. Sarah has to be safe, and if you won't be sensible, then you'll have to be—”

  “Kidnapped?”

  “Kept safe in spite of yourself.”

  “And you think I'll put up with it? I'm getting out of here, and when I do, I'm going to cause you so much trouble your head will spin.”

  “I'm sure you will. But hopefully the FBI will have removed any threat to Sarah by that time. I'm pulling every string I know to find out who those men at Arapahoe Junction were.”

  “And I'm supposed to sit here locked up with this asshole while you try to do something the FBI can't?”

  “I have a chance. I have a friend who specializes in that kind of information.”

  “Another criminal like Morgan?”

  “No, not like Morgan. I understand he has different talents.”

  “Kidnapping.”

  “It wasn't supposed to come down to that. Morgan tells me that the situation called for more drastic measures than he'd planned.”

  “But you agreed to it.”

  “After the fact.” He paused. “He said it was the only way to keep you alive, and keeping you alive is the only way I can keep Sarah safe. That's the only thing that's important to me.”

  “My God. Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “A man who loves Sarah.” He paused. “As you do, Alex.”

  “I told you I wouldn't do anything to endanger her. What you've done is totally beyond the pale.” She looked at Morgan across the kitchen. “And you turned this . . . thug loose on me.”

  Morgan raised his brows. “Thug?” he murmured. “Isn't that a rather antiquated term?”

  “Tell him to let me go, Logan.”

  “I can't do that. Don't worry, I've been assured you're perfectly safe with him. He's no threat.”

  She would have laughed if she hadn't been so angry. She didn't know exactly who or what Judd Morgan was, but he was about as unthreatening as a coiled rattlesnake. “He'll be no danger when I'm a thousand miles away from him or he's behind bars.”

  “Believe me, if I'd had any doubts about your safety, I'd have never made a deal with him. Do you think I don't know I'd have to answer to Sarah if anything happened to you?”

  “Sarah will be as furious as I am with you.”

  “Maybe. But she'll be alive.” He paused. “And you'll be alive. The end justifies the means.”

  “The hell it does.”

  “We disagree. Is there anything else you'd like to say to me?”

  “Let me go.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No, dammit, I want you to—” It was no use. She drew a deep breath. “How is Sarah?”

  “Wonderful. Champing at the bit to get up. Nagging me to try to find out where the FBI has you hidden so she can come and see you.”

  “Damn you.” She hung up the phone and glared at Morgan across the room. “And damn you, Morgan.”

  “It must be very frustrating for you.” He
crossed the room and took the phone from her. “And I'm sure Logan didn't succeed in reassuring you that I'm Sir Lancelot and not Jack the Ripper.”

  “No.”

  “But you believe that Logan's deal with me didn't include any harm to you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “And that Logan, being the powerhouse he is, would be very upset if I broke my end of the bargain?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Then look at it this way. If I killed you and buried you in the snow, Logan would come after me with guns blazing. Doesn't that give you a sense of security?”

  She gazed at him incredulously. “Should it?”

  He sighed. “I guess not. I was reaching.” He put the dishes in the dishwasher. “But I think you're not as uneasy as you were before you spoke to Logan. Want your coffee now?”

  “No.” She got to her feet. “I don't want anything you can give me but out.”

  “It's possible you might get what you want.”

  She stiffened. “What?”

  “I have to think about it. Things aren't shaping up the way I intended. I was planning on staying in the background, but I blew it at the hotel.”

  “I agree.”

  “No, not by taking you. That was necessary. But there are video cameras all over that hotel. I took out the ones in the garage, but I didn't have time to get to the cameras in the stairwell.”

  “Good. Then your face will be on every APB in the U.S.”

  “I was sure that would be your reaction. But it's not the police I'm concerned about at present.”

  “You don't want those scumbags to target you too? Well, it serves you right.”

  “Deserving or not, it doesn't alter the fact that I have a problem.”

  Her gaze narrowed on his face. “And you might betray Logan to solve it?”

  “Let's say I might make adjustments to our agreement.”

  Hope flared. “Let me go and I'll forget I ever saw you.”

  He shook his head.

  “I don't break my word.”

  He studied her and then smiled. “No, I don't think you do.”

  “Then let me go. You don't want the trouble and I'll be big-time trouble.”

  “A promise?”

  Her smile was only a baring of her teeth. “Oh, yes.”

  He chuckled. “My God, I wish you could meet Elena. I think you and she might be soul mates.”

  “I'm not interested in meeting any of your friends.”

  “It's just as well. The last I heard, she wanted to cut my throat. I don't need more than one of you to contend with at any given time.”

  Her hands clenched into fists. “Are you going to let me go?”

  His smile faded. “I have to consider the possibilities. I learned a long time ago that every action has a domino effect. I knew I should never have taken this job. Now if I let you go and you get killed, it will have a direct impact on me. One, Logan will be out for my head. Two, whoever is after you may think I'm part of the equation and target me. Three, the police may decide I'm involved in your demise and try to arrest me. Since I won't have Logan to run interference, it would put me in a very precarious position and that would not be—”

  “Oh, for God's sake.”

  “No, for Judd Morgan's sake.” He added, “That's what I'm trying to tell you. I always look out for number one.”

  “How surprising.”

  “Sorry, we all can't be heroes who run into burning buildings.”

  “I'd never make that mistake.”

  “You already did.”

  A smoke-filled stairwell. His hand grasping her wrist. Safety.

  “You took me by surprise.”

  “Because you want to believe in heroes.”

  “They exist. I've known quite a few.”

  “Like your father.”

  “Like my father.” She stared him in the eye. “And I'm not going to forgive you for dressing up and pretending you're anything like him.”

  “I didn't think you would. I knew it would probably be a cardinal sin in your eyes.” He shrugged. “But there are sins and then there are sins. I've learned to view transgressions in perspective.” He turned on the dishwasher. “For instance, it would be a really great sin to permit a man of my brilliance and talent to be taken down by those lowlifes who blew up Arapahoe Dam. I have to make sure such sacrilege doesn't happen.”

  “No matter who else gets hurt.”

  “Oh, I didn't say that.” He smiled. “Never make assumptions, Alex. It's not a black-and-white world.” He turned away. “Now, if you're sure you don't want anything else from me, I believe I'll go to the study and do a little work.”

  “Planning your next heist?”

  “Could be. Or maybe I'm going to think about domino effects.”

  “Listen to me.” Her voice vibrated with urgency. “I have to get out of here. Those men killed innocent people. I can't let them walk away. I won't let them walk away. I saw them. I may be the only person who can make sure they're punished.”

  “It's not your responsibility. Let the police and the FBI handle it.”

  “It is my responsibility. When something like that disaster happens, it's everyone's responsibility. You can't just stand on the sidelines and hope someone else—” She stopped and wearily shook her head. “Or maybe you can. You're so damn cold. I can see you standing in the background, afraid to come any closer because something might touch you.”

  “Do you want me to deny it? I'm very comfortable on the outside. It's where I intend to stay.” He turned away. “All that emotion must have exhausted you. I'd suggest you go to your room and get some sleep. You probably still feel a little groggy from that sedative.”

  “Wait.” She moistened her lips. “What are the chances of you changing your mind about your deal with Logan?”

  He thought about it. “Probably not very high. But the possibility does exist.”

  She watched in helpless frustration as he disappeared through a doorway opening off the living room.

  No, not helpless. She would not be helpless.

  She crossed the kitchen and opened the cutlery drawer.

  There was a scrawled note lying in the empty drawer.

  Sorry.

  Damn him.

  4

  “Here's the tape. I got it right before the police team started their search.” Decker dropped the case on the desk in front of Powers. “Though I don't know how much good it will do. The camera only got a back shot of him going up the stairs, and that big-ass fireman's hat almost hid his face when he was carrying Graham out the second-floor exit.”

  “It better do us a hell of a lot of good,” Powers said softly. “You screwed up. We lost Graham, and you left Lester's body for the FBI to find.”

  “I wasn't supposed to be there,” Decker said defensively. “I did my job.”

  “Then somebody undid it. Which is just as bad.” He picked up the tape. “I'll send this to Washington to have it examined. You'd better hope they can ID that fireman. He's the key to finding Graham.” He flipped open his phone. “I'm going to get a hell of a lot of heat from Betworth about this, and you can bet I'm not going to take it alone.”

  Decker belligerently lifted his chin. “I'm not worried about Betworth.”

  “No?” Powers dialed Betworth's number. “And what about Runne?” He nodded as he saw the change of expression on Decker's face. “Different story, isn't it? You're scared shitless of Runne.”

  “I'm not scared. He's just . . . weird.”

  “Well, Betworth might decide to turn him loose on you, so I wouldn't get too cocky.” Betworth answered the phone, and Powers deliberately made his tone cheerful. “Good news, we're on our way to finding Graham.”

  Idiots!

  Charles Betworth muttered a curse as he hung up the phone.

  Arapahoe Dam had been a nightmare from the beginning. It had not accomplished its principal aim, and the cleanup was proving to be a complete debacle. Powers was supposed to be a competen
t professional, but Betworth had seen no sign of it during these last weeks. It was time he made the move that he'd wanted to avoid.

  He quickly dialed Danley. “I need you to meet me tonight. We have to do something about that situation we discussed. I'm afraid we're going to have to escalate our time frame and go to Plan B.”

  “Is that wise?”

  He smothered his irritation. Danley had been skittish for the last two weeks and Betworth had had to keep the bastard calm. “I don't believe we have a choice. Boldness sometimes carries the day. As long as you and Jurgens give the correct orders and make damn sure they're carried out, we'll be fine. We'll discuss it tonight.” He hung up. Boldness would have to carry the day in this case. No reason why it wouldn't work. All the preparations had been made. Of course, he'd have to call Guatemala City and make sure Cordoba—

  A discreet knock on the door before it opened. “I'm sorry to disturb you, sir.”

  He glanced up to see Hannah Carter, his secretary, standing tentatively in the doorway. “What is it?”

  “You have an appointment at the White House in ten minutes. You're meeting with the Vice President and the Secretary of the Interior. I was afraid you'd forgot—”

  “I did.” He forced a smile as he rose to his feet. “But I can always count on you to save my ass, Hannah.”

  “I'll call the Vice President's secretary and tell her you were held up by the environmental people.” Hannah smiled back at him. “He's been having real trouble for the past two months getting them to okay that bill approving massive shoring up of our infrastructure.”

  “Brilliant. You should be doing this job, not me. I'm on my way.”

  She flushed with pleasure, as he'd known she would. It was always worthwhile to devote a few minutes a day to making the people around you feel important. Spreading honey was the best way to maintain control. Hannah had been working for him for ten years, and he couldn't hope to have a more devoted employee. Honey usually worked with Danley too. He'd drawn him in with praise and compliments and then slammed the door once he committed himself.

  But honey was not the method he'd use on Powers if he didn't stop making mistakes.

  He might have to send Runne out there to do a little prodding. If he could locate the arrogant bastard. Runne hadn't answered his phone for two days, and even when he did deign to communicate it was questionable that he'd agree to do what Betworth ordered. If he weren't so useful, Betworth would tell Powers to get rid of him and get someone else for the job.