“It will take you longer than three days to get well. That’s total bullshit.”
“We disagree. You may go now. It’s time for me to get back to sleep.”
Venable was so exasperated he wanted to yank him out of bed and shake him. Great. He’d probably kill him. Hu Chang might think he was on the way to recovery, but he had to be fragile. “Three days.” He turned to go. “And we’ll talk every day.”
“Conversation can be so frustrating. Do you play chess?”
“No, I don’t have the patience for it. Checkers.”
“Chess. You’re a man who uses your mind. You will conquer impatience.”
“Let’s go back to conversation.” He paused. “This is no game to me, Hu Chang. It could cause too many deaths.”
“That is why you’re CIA. You take such things with great gravity. That’s why I trust you to guard me well during the next days.” His eyes remained closed. “But do not assign Agent Gregory to do that task. He is too young to realize what a treasure I am. He might be careless…”
He was already asleep, Venable thought, as he turned and left the room. He’d gone off in the blink of an eye.
But not without issuing that last order about not using Gregory. He hadn’t been planning on it. Like Hu Chang, Venable was bothered by Gregory’s brash self-confidence. He might be smart, and Venable knew he was brave, but he preferred wariness. He’d do most of the duty himself while he tried to persuade Hu Chang to tell him what he needed to know.
Three days …
CHAPTER
2
Louisville, Kentucky
1:40 A.M.
“CATHERINE.” SAM O’NEILL WAS SITTING in an easy chair in the living room and looked up from his book as she came in the front door. “I wasn’t expecting you. How was Peru?”
“Ugly. It took longer than I thought to get the job done. But I managed to hop a ride on an Air Force jet as soon as I was free.” She set her duffel down. “How is Luke?”
“Fine.” He frowned. “But we should probably talk.”
“After I see him, Sam. It’s been three weeks.” And it had seemed more like a year to Catherine since she’d seen her son. “Is he asleep?” She started for the stairs. “I know he reads late most of the time.”
“I don’t know if he’s awake or not. We have lessons during the day, and I give him the entire evening to read as a reward. I put no other restrictions on him.”
“I know you don’t. Smart.” She was climbing the stairs. “Otherwise, we’d have a rebellion on our hands. You can’t treat him as a child. He’s gone through too much. But he’s been happy? It’s hard to tell when I phone him.”
“Your son has not been unhappy.” He grinned. “What’s not to like with me as a tutor?”
And Catherine was grateful every day that she’d been able to hire Sam in that capacity. An ex-CIA man with the ability to protect Luke as well as teach him was a rare find. “Let me think.” She smiled back at him as she reached the top of the steps. “Perhaps just a little trace of arrogance?”
“Luke doesn’t mind. He ignores it.” He looked back down at his book. “He just regards me as a vessel of information to drain every day.”
Catherine paused before Luke’s door and took a deep breath. Then she quietly opened his bedroom door. “Luke?” Her voice was soft, tentative, as she stared into the darkness. She knew he sometimes read late into the night, but it was after one in the morning, and, if the room was dark, she should probably wait until morning to see him. It would be the sensible thing to do.
To hell with being sensible. She was hungry to see him, touch him. He knew she wasn’t ordinary or sensible, and she thought he was beginning to accept her with all her warts.
“I’m awake, Catherine.” He turned on the light on the bedside table. He never called her mother, and she never pushed it. How could she when he had been taken from her when he was only two as an act of revenge against Catherine by a Russian Mafia head? What memories Luke had of her during that early childhood were like dreams with no substance. All the period of his nine years of captivity with Rakovac he had been told every day how the pain he endured was her fault. She was lucky that he had rejected that lie and was willing to give them their chance together. He sat up in bed. “I just finished a book and didn’t want to start a new one tonight. I wasn’t expecting you. You haven’t called me lately.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She came across the room and sat down on the chair beside his bed. She wanted to lie down beside him, hug him, hold him. Don’t do it. Let it come from him. Someday it would happen. But she could look at him, and, Lord, he was beautiful. His shock of silky black hair that was like her own, his skin that was a little paler than her own golden ivory, and those dark eyes that could glitter with such ferocity and wariness that they made him look far older than his eleven years. But occasionally, lately, she had seen them gleam with humor, and she regarded that as a major victory. In those striped pajamas he looked thin, but she knew he had gained weight since she had rescued him from that bastard, Rakovac. She’d had his tutor, Sam, weigh him regularly, though that procedure was met with extreme impatience. Luke had never been treated like a child, and Catherine had to be careful not to offend that tigerish sense of independence. “It would have been … awkward to phone you.”
“You mean it would have been dangerous.” Luke tilted his head. “Why don’t you say it? I know what you do. Rakovac told me all the time that you had no time for me because you were CIA and that was all you cared about.”
Pain rippled through her. “You know that wasn’t true.”
“No, I didn’t. Not for a long while. But then I knew he only wanted to hurt me, and that was probably just another way to do it.”
“Actually, he wanted to hurt me.” She tried to smile. “You were just the means to an end.” A horrible means that had hurt her more than anything else that he could have possibly done. The knowledge that he was hurting her son had been the most excruciating torture. “We’ve talked about this before. I’d hoped to put it behind us.”
“Did you?” He was gazing at her, puzzled. “But how can that be? It happened, it’s with us. I think about it a lot.”
Shit.
“Do you? I try not to remember it if I can help it.” She paused. “Would you like to talk about it? Are there any questions that you’d like to ask?”
“No, I just think about it.” He frowned. “I think about you, Catherine.”
“Do you? Should I ask how I’m scoring?”
“Scoring.” He was instantly distracted. “That’s a sports term.”
“That’s right.” And Luke had never been permitted any sports or play at all, she thought bitterly. He had been raised by a guerilla and a murderer and had learned about death and killing from the time he was a small child. His only salvation had been his books, and when he’d been freed, he’d immersed himself in the printed word and the worlds it brought to him. “Sam said he’s teaching you tennis now. Do you like it?”
He nodded. “Better than golf. But it still seems pointless. What difference does it make?”
When you’d grown up being exposed to life-or-death situations, it wasn’t strange that Luke couldn’t understand the concept of competition for competition’s sake. You fought to live. “It never hurts to be exposed to something that might be a challenge.” She could see he was about to argue the point, and she prompted, “You said that you were thinking about me.”
He was silent, then said slowly, “I … think I’m worrying about you.”
She stared at him. “You are? Because I’m CIA?”
“Maybe. Though I don’t believe that’s the reason. CIA is like being a soldier, and no one worries about soldiers. They just do their job. If they’re good, they live. If they’re not, they die. That’s why you have to work hard to be good.”
“Is that what you learned from all those guerilla raids you were forced to go on when you were held prisoner in Russia?”
&nbs
p; He nodded. “And Sam tells me that you’re very good. So I shouldn’t worry about you.”
“That’s very logical. I should add, however, that here in this country we care very much about our soldiers. They’re not considered throwaways like the men who fought under Rakovac. Many of those were professionals hired to fight and kill.” It was very difficult to strike a balance in explaining things to Luke. His actual experience had been brutal and without any emotion that was not cruel from the time he was two until she had rescued him from Rakovac a short time ago. When he had been given access to books, it had been a stunning eye-opener, but there were times when he regarded history and philosophy in the same light as fairy tales. “That being said, if you shouldn’t worry about me, what’s the problem?”
“I think I should make sure that you’re as good as Sam said.” His gaze traveled the room. “You give me a lot … food, books. Maybe I should help you.”
“And maybe you shouldn’t,” she said firmly. “You don’t owe me anything, Luke. I owe you. That’s the way it works. Mothers take care of their children. It’s their pleasure and duty.”
“Duty.” He repeated the word. “I don’t understand. Soldiers have duty, and I can see how that would be necessary. But everyone in my books uses that word for so many other things.”
“You don’t have to understand. Duty can either be forced or a choice. I choose. So stop fretting and just let me do my job. You owe me nothing.”
“But what if I choose to … fret?” She could see he had been tempted to stop and savor that word, but had resisted it. He was fascinated by the sound and textures of words, particularly ones he considered unusual. “I’m … confused. I’ll have to decide…”
“I won’t try to talk you out of it.” That would be futile and might make him rebel, the last thing she wanted. “But discuss it with Sam, okay?” She got to her feet and stood looking down at him. “Is that why you’ve been so quiet lately?”
“Have I been quiet?”
“For a long time before I left on that Peru job.”
“And you noticed? Why?”
Because I love you. Because every breath you take is important to me. “Must be my CIA training.”
“I notice things about you, too. It’s been happening more and more often since we came to live here.” He thought about it. “Though maybe a little more when you took me to Hong Kong right after you killed Rakovac. It was very strange there, but you seemed to … like it.”
“Like it? It’s a city, and a city is people. I know a lot of people in Hong Kong.”
“Like Hu Chang. He’s your friend.”
“Yes, and he’d be your friend, too.” She paused. “If you’d let him. You were a little standoffish with him. Not that I blame you. Everything must have seemed crazy at that time.”
He nodded. “I wanted to do what you wanted me to do, but I couldn’t. He was a stranger.”
“And you were never allowed to talk to strangers,” she said bitterly. “Or to anyone else either.”
“I talked to him when he took me down to his lab and showed me how he blended his medicines. That was interesting. He even let me mix up a couple.”
“Then you’re honored. He’s very particular who handles his herbs.”
“I could tell. He kept frowning at me.”
“That didn’t bother you?”
“No, he wasn’t angry. I think he was trying to figure me out the way he did those formulas he was working on.”
“Did he do it?”
“I don’t know. It didn’t matter to me. I was just interested in what we were doing. But I don’t think Hu Chang actually minded that I didn’t talk much to him. He was busy talking to you. Every now and then, he would look at me, and I could see him trying to find something in…” He shook his head. “He liked it that I didn’t talk. It gave him time.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“And it gave me time, too. I was feeling … It was strange being with you. I watched you with him. You’re different than you are with other people. You’re more … open. I could see deeper … I didn’t feel so strange and alone being with you after that.”
“Then bless Hu Chang.” She smiled as she lightly touched his hand on the bed. Just a fleeting touch, then back away. There had been a time when she’d not been able to touch him at all without his tensing. They were making strides. Every talk, every confidence, every moment they were together was another step forward. Even Luke’s mentioning Hu Chang had been progress. Their trip through Hong Kong on their way back to the States had been necessary for Catherine, but it had been a chaotic nightmare for Luke after his incarceration in that solitary house in Russia. It was not surprising that he had withdrawn into himself and been an almost silent observer. He had never mentioned Hong Kong or Hu Chang since arriving in Kentucky. It was odd that he should bring Hu Chang up tonight.
But no more odd than this introspection that seemed to be preying on him lately. Hell, perhaps it was healthy. He was no longer so absorbed in himself and his beloved books but examining the people and the world around him.
“Next time I talk to Hu Chang, I’ll tell him that you sent your regards.”
He nodded absently. “If he’s your friend, I should do that. Sam says it’s polite.”
“Then I’ll go downstairs and commend Sam for teaching you good manners,” she said lightly. “I only waved to him when I came in the front door. I wanted to get up here to see you.” She turned toward the door. “What about driving down to Atlanta tomorrow to see Eve Duncan and Joe Quinn?”
“Okay. Eve sent me a new book on forensic sculpting last week.” He reached over and turned off the lamp. “It was very interesting.”
“Then you can thank her in person. I’ll call her in the morning.” Luke accepted closeness from very few people, and it was important that Catherine urge him gently to leave that self-imposed isolation and encourage those relationships. She opened the door. “Good night, Luke. I’m glad to be home.”
Silence. “I’m glad you’re home, too, Catherine.”
Another step. Not a giant step, but she’d take what she could get. “That’s good to hear, Luke.”
She closed the door gently behind her.
More than good. It made her think that she was gaining ground and not just standing still.
The smile was still on her lips when she went downstairs to the living room where Sam O’Neill was reading a National Geographic.
“He looks great, Sam,” she said. “You’re taking good care of him.”
“You’re damn right I am. Not easy.” Sam took off his glasses and wiped them. “He’s a challenge. But then he’s your son. I expected it.” He smiled. “And looked forward to it. When I left the Company, I knew I was going to have some serious problems with tamping down the adrenaline when I went back to teaching. With Luke, every day is a unique experience. He’s unique.”
“Unique? I wish every day that he was an ordinary kid who could just enjoy his childhood.” She wearily dropped down on the couch. “And he’s changing, isn’t he? Is it for the better?”
“I’m not sure. It could be.”
“That’s right. Reassure me.” But Sam wasn’t going to tell her anything unless he was certain. He was as honest as he was intelligent. “He was looking at me upstairs as if I were a bug under a microscope. Yet I don’t believe there was animosity. You’re with him every day. Am I lying to myself?”
He shook his head. “He’s been asking me questions about you lately. I’ve been honest with him. I thought that would be what you wanted.”
“Of course it is,” she said curtly. “After all Luke and I have been through, it would be stupid to pretend I’m some cozy PTA mom. Complete honesty is the only thing that might save us. Besides, that bastard who held him all those years made sure that Luke believed that I was to blame for every beating he gave him.”
“You killed Rakovac?”
“With great pleasure and as much pain as I could inflict
. Didn’t Luke tell you? He wasn’t there, but when he asked me, I told him the truth.”
“No, Luke doesn’t mention Rakovac. He appeared to live totally in the present … until recently.” He got to his feet. “Do you want coffee? I could use some.”
“No, I’ve had too much already.” She followed him into the kitchen. “I don’t believe Luke blamed me for Rakovac. How could he? He hated the son of a bitch. He told me he would have killed him himself if he’d gotten the chance. And he would have done it.” Her lips tightened grimly. “Eleven years old, and that’s what Rakovac made of him. When other kids were in Little League, Luke was being taught to handle weapons and how to survive fighting with a bunch of guerillas. Rakovac wanted to destroy every sign of the lovable kid Luke was before he took him from me. And he kept me informed every step of the way. Luke was beaten and kept isolated, and it’s a wonder he was able to survive.”
“A miracle,” Sam agreed as he spooned instant coffee into a cup. “And if he hadn’t had your genes, it would never have happened. I see traces of you beginning to appear every day.”
“Then God help him.”
“He did.” Sam smiled. “That survival instinct. He gave it to both of you.” He poured hot water from the dispenser into the cup. “You do realize that after going through nine years of that hell, Luke could have turned into a monster. I’m sure that’s what Rakovac intended by that abuse.”
“So do I.”
“Instead, Luke only withdrew and immersed himself in books. It was the healthiest thing he could have done. Luke has a fantastic mind and a memory that borders on being close to total recall. He could dive in and close out everything around him that wasn’t on the printed page. It not only educated him but aroused and satisfied the curiosity that seems to be one of his prime qualities.”
“That he indulged twenty-four hours a day,” she said dryly. “I’ve been wondering if I was mistaken, Sam. After being isolated for nine years, I thought his passion for books would be a gentle way to open the world for him. Did I just furnish him with another prison?”
What Doesn't Kill You Page 2
