photographs. “Trapezium to metacarpal. That’s another index. Check it out. The
ventral surface of the scapula—you can see it against his shirt. Let’s look at
that ratio, too.”
With the loupe and the ruler, she continued to look for and find tiny physical
variances. The length of the forefinger in relation to the middle finger, the
precise length of each arm, the exact distance from chin to Adam’s apple.
Skepticism melted as examples multiplied.
“The question is, Who is this man?” She shook her head bleakly.
“I think you mean the question is, Who are these men?”
She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “OK, try this on. Let’s say you
wanted to take everything this guy has. You kill him, and you take his place,
because you’ve somehow made yourself look identical to him, almost. Now his life
is your life. What’s his is yours. It’s genius. And to make sure you can get
away with it, you go on some public outings pretending to be the guy, kinda like
a dress rehearsal.”
“But wouldn’t the real Peter Novak catch wind of that?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But say you also had the goods on him, somehow, knew about
some secret that he had tried to bury … so you could blackmail him some kinda
way. Couldn’t that make sense of it?”
“When you’ve got no good explanations, the bad ones start looking better and
better.”
“I guess.” Jessie sighed.
“Let’s try another route. I can’t get to Peter Novak, or whoever is calling
himself that. Who else do we know who might know?”
“Maybe not the people trying to stop you, but whoever’s giving the orders.”
“Exactly. And I’ve a strong suspicion I know who that is.”
“You’re talking about Derek Collins,” she said. “Director of Consular
Operations.”
“Lambda Team doesn’t get dispatched without his direct approval,” he said. “Let
alone the other teams we’ve seen deployed. I think it’s time I paid the man a
visit.”
“Listen to me,” she said urgently. “You need to keep a good safe distance from
that man. If Collins wants you dead, don’t count on leaving his company alive.”
“I know the guy,” Janson said. “I know what I’m doing.”
“So do I. You’re talking about putting your head in the lion’s mouth. Don’t you
know how crazy that is?”
“I’ve got no choice,” Janson said.
Heavily, she said, “When do we leave?”
“There’s no ‘we.’ I’m going by myself.”
“You don’t think I’m good enough?”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” Janson said. “Are you looking for
validation? You’re good, Jessie. Top-drawer. Is that what you need to hear?
Well, it’s true. You’re smart as a whip, you’re fast on your feet, you’re
adaptable and levelheaded, and you’re probably the best marksman I’ve come
across. The point remains: what I’ve got to do next, I’ve got to do alone. You
can’t come along. It’s not a risk you need to take.”
“It’s not a risk you need to take. You’re going into the lion’s den without so
much as a chair and a whip.”
“Trust me, it’ll be a walk in the park,” Janson said with a trace of a smile.
“Tell me you’re not still sore about London. Because … ”
“Jessie, I really need you to reconnoiter the Liberty Foundation offices in
Amsterdam. I’ll rejoin you there shortly. We can’t ignore the possibility that
something, or somebody, might turn up there. As far as Derek Collins, though, I
can take care of myself. It’s going to be OK.”
“What I’m thinking is, you’re scared of putting me at risk,” Jessie said. “I’d
call that a lapse of professionalism, wouldn’t you?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hell, maybe you’re right.” She was silent for a moment, averting her gaze.
“Maybe I ain’t ready.” Suddenly, she noticed a small splotch of blood on the
back of her right hand. As she examined it more closely, she looked a little
sick. “What I did today, in those hills … ”
“Was what you needed to do. It was kill or be killed.”
“I know,” she said in a hollow voice.
“You’re not supposed to like it. There’s no shame in what you’re feeling. Taking
the life of another human being is the ultimate responsibility. A responsibility
I spent the past five years running from. But there’s another truth you’ve got
to remember. Sometimes lethal force is the only thing that will defeat lethal
force, and though zealots and crazies may twist that precept to their own
perverted ends, it remains a truth. You did what had to be done, Jessie. You
saved the day. Saved me.” He gave her a reassuring smile.
She tried to return it. “That grateful look doesn’t become you. We saved each
other’s lives, OK? We’re even-steven.”
“What are you, a sniper or a CPA?”
She gave a rueful laugh, but her eyes returned to the dot of dried blood. She
was silent for a moment. “It’s just all at once I had the thought that, you
know, these guys had moms and dads, too.”
“You’ll find you learn not to think about that.”
“And that’s a good thing, right?”
“Sometimes,” Janson said, swallowing hard, “sometimes it’s a necessary thing.”
Now Jessie disappeared into the bathroom, and Janson heard the shower run for a
long time.
When she returned, a terry-cloth bathrobe was wrapped around her slim yet softly
curving body. She walked toward the bed nearest the window. Janson was almost
startled at how delicately feminine the field agent now appeared.
“So you’re leaving me in the morning,” she said after a few moments.
“Not the way I’d put it,” Janson said.
“Wonder what the odds of my ever seeing you again are,” she said.
“Come on, Jessie. Don’t think like that.”
“Maybe we’d better seize the day—or the night. Gather ye rosebuds or whatever.”
He could tell she was afraid for him, and for herself, too. “I got real good
eyes. You know that. But I don’t need a sniper scope to see what’s in front of
my face.”
“And what’s that?”
“I see the way you look at me.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, come on now, make your move, soldier. Now’s the time you tell me how much I
remind you of your late wife.”
“Actually, you couldn’t be less like her.”
She paused. “I make you uncomfortable. Don’t try to deny that.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You survived eighteen months of torture and interrogation from the Viet Cong,
but you flinch when I come too close.”
“No,” he said, but his mouth was dry.
She stood up and moved toward him. “And your eyes widen and your face flushes
and your heart starts to race.” She reached over, took his hand, and pressed it
to her throat. “Same with me. Can you feel it?”
“A field agent shouldn’t make assumptions,” Janson said, but he could feel the
pulse beneath her warm, silky skin, and it seemed to keep rhythm with his own.
“I remember something you once wrote, about interagency cooperation between
nations. ‘To work together as allies, it is important that any unresolved
tensions be addressed through a free and open exchange.’ ” There was laughter in
her eyes. And then something softer, something like heat. “Just close your eyes
and think of your country.”
Now she stood closer and parted her bathrobe. Her breasts were two perfectly
shaped globes, the nipples swollen with tension, and she leaned toward him,
cupping his face now with her hands. Her gaze was warm and unwavering. “I’m
ready to accept your diplomatic mission.”
As she started to remove his shirt, Janson said, “There’s an ordinance in the
reg book prohibiting fraternization.”
She pressed her lips to his, smothering his halfhearted demurrals. “You call
this fraternization?” she said, shouldering off her robe. “Come on, everyone
knows what a great deep-penetration agent you are.”
He became aware of a delicate fragrance that emanated from her body. Her lips
were soft and swollen and moist, and they moved across his face to his mouth,
inviting his into hers. Her fingers gently stroked his cheeks, his jawline, his
ears. He could feel her breasts, soft yet firm, pressed against his chest, and
her legs thrust against his, matching his strength with hers.
Then, abruptly, she began to tremble, and convulsive sobs came from her throat
even as she gripped him all the more fiercely. Gently, he pulled her face back,
and saw that her cheeks were now stained with tears. He saw the pain in her
eyes, pain that was compounded by her own fear, and her humiliation that he was
now witness to it.
“Jessie,” he said softly. “Jessie.”
She shook her head, helplessly, and then cradled it against his deeply muscled
chest. “I’ve never felt so alone,” she said. “So frightened.”
“You’re not alone,” Janson said. “And fear is what keeps us alive.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to be afraid.”