From Manhattan With Revenge Boxed Set (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

She sat
unmoving in her chair, studying his face while instinct laced through her.
 
She looked for his hands and saw them on
the table, one holding the stem of his wine glass, the other holding his steak
knife.
 
She didn’t look away from
the knife until he put it down.

“Let me
guess,” she said.
 
“This was to be
done at nine o’clock tonight?
 
A
messy hit because the press likes a mess?
 
Is that how it was supposed to go down?”

He let a
silence pass.

“You
were to take a photograph of me and send it electronically to them, proving I was
dead?
 
Is that right?”

There
was no need for an answer.

“I’ve
been struggling with this all evening,” she said.
 
“It’s why I couldn’t eat.
 
And you were right earlier.
 
I am upset.
 
I was asked to kill
you
, Alex.”

It was
almost imperceptible, but she saw it.
 
His hand nudged closer to the knife.
 
“Were you going to go through with it?”

She
pressed her back against the chair and felt her gun concealed behind her
back.
 
He had the advantage with the
knife, but she was fast.
 
She could
dodge it.
 
If he made a move, she’d
throw her glass of red wine into his face, blind him with its acids and then
reach for her gun.

“Obviously
not or I wouldn’t have told you.
 
And by the way, I told you first.
 
What if I hadn’t told you?”

“Then
I’d probably still be sitting here weighing my options.”

“So, you
were considering it?”

“It’s
what we do, Alex.”

“It’s
what we do to strangers.”

“Not all
the time and you know it.”
 
She
studied his face.
 
“Look, if it
makes you feel better, it’s unlikely that I would have done it.”

“Why?”

“Because
I don’t need the money.
 
If I told
them I screwed up, they’d just send someone in else to do the job.”

“And you
wouldn’t have warned me?”

“I don’t
know what I would have done.
 
But
here’s what I do know.
 
They want
each of us dead.
 
They were betting
that in spite of our history together, one of us would go through with it for
the five million.
 
Is that the
amount they offered you?”

He
nodded.

“So,
with one of us dead, they’d be left with only one of us to take out.
 
Not a bad deal.
 
You say there’s no ticket waiting for me
at LaGuardia?
 
Actually, I’ll bet
there’s a ticket waiting for each of us at LaGuardia.
 
You told me you were staying in the
city.
 
Where were you really going
to tonight?”

“Spain.”

“And if
you arrived there, they’d have you killed.
 
If I arrived in Paris, they’d have me killed.”

“Why are
they doing this?”

She
shrugged.
 
“Who knows?
 
Maybe we know too much.
 
We’ve had access to the kind of
information that could lead to blackmail, especially after this last job.
 
Nothing we’ve ever done for them has
been this significant or created this kind of media attention.
 
Obviously, our time is up with
them.
 
Both of us are being
targeted.”

“They
could be watching us now.”

“You and
I never enter a place without first scoping the area.
 
It’s what we do.
 
I saw nothing unusual when we came
inside.
 
Did you?”

“I
didn’t.”

“But
that doesn’t mean that someone isn’t outside now.
 
Or maybe even in here with us.
 
To be safe, we probably should eat and
look less intense.”
 

She cut
into her steak and took a bite of the cool meat.
 
She poured herself more wine and said
that the steak was good.
 
She
reached down for her handbag and parted it open.
 
He watched her.
 
She had another bite of steak.
 
Her fork dropped from her hand.
 
She bent to pick it up and as she did,
she moved her body in such a way that no one in the room could see her grab the
bottle of steak sauce that was on the table and drop it into her handbag.

“What
are you doing?” he said.

“Reaching
for my fork.
 
I’ll need a new
one.”
 
She looked around for their
waiter, caught his eye and motioned for another fork.
 
A new one arrived swiftly.

“What
are you up to?”

“You’re
going to shoot me in the head,” she said.
 
“You’ll photograph it for them and send it along, just as they asked.”

“What
are you talking about?”

“Do you
trust me, Alex?”

“After
this conversation?”

“I need
to know if you trust me.
 
If
anything that happened last night meant something to you, I need you to weigh
your feelings and tell me if you trust me.”

“I don’t
know.”

“Fair enough,”
she said, cutting off another piece of meat.
 
“I get it.
 
Five million is a lot of money.
 
I don’t know if I can’t trust you,
either.
 
So, I’ll need to take a
risk because last night did mean something to me and I also think it did to
you.
 
You’re going to shoot me in
the head and you’re going to send them that photo.”
 

She
pointed her fork at him.
 
“And then
you know exactly who we’re going to kill.”

CHAPTER THREE

“You
need to be more clear with this plan of yours,” he said.

“It’s
simple.
 
We find an alley or go to
the Park.
 
I lie on the ground, you
pour that steak sauce around my head, you splatter my face with it and then you
take your photo.
 
Blood always looks
dark at night.
 
It would never look
red.
 
They know that.
 
They’ll believe what they see because it
will look real.
 
I know what a dead
face looks like because I’ve dealt my share of them.
 
They want dead?
 
We’ll give them dead.”

“It’s
not a bad idea,” he said.

“It’s a
brilliant idea.
 
The question is
whether you’ll choose to kill me for real because you believe you still have a
chance to get that money.
 
If that’s
what you’re thinking, here’s what you need to know.
 
Don’t expect the money to be deposited
in your bank account tomorrow morning.
 
It won’t be there.
 
They’ll
know you didn’t board the flight to Spain.
 
They’ll know you sensed something was off and they’ll come after you
with everything they’ve got.
 
We’re
not the only assassins in the world, Alex.
 
I’ve worked with some of the best and so have you.
 
Imagine if they got Vincent Spocatti to
do the job.
 
I’ve worked with
him.
 
I know how good he is.
 
What would you do if they contacted him?
 
He’s the best in the business.
 
Nothing personal, but you’re no match
for him.
 
Neither am I.”

She
picked up her glass of wine and sipped.

“Why is
all the focus on me?” he said.
 
“How
do I know you’re not planning to kill me?”

“Because
I’d actually prefer to be with you.
 
I do think there’s something between us.
 
But we have this problem.
 
We’re assassins.
 
For too long, we’ve only been out for
ourselves.
 
We rarely trust
anyone.
 
So, how do we get beyond
that?
 
I want to trust you, but I’m
not sure that I can.
 
I have a
feeling you feel the same way.”

“I do.”

“So,
what do we do?
 
Take a leap of
faith?
 
Hope for the best?”

He
studied her face and she had an idea of what he was thinking.
 
If he showed his loyalty to them by
killing her, would they come after him?
 
There was a chance they wouldn’t and Carmen knew it.
 
That’s why when she did play dead for
him, her dead face would be one in which her eyes were wide open.
 
If he went for his gun, she’d know it
and grab her own.
 
Whoever was
quickest would win.
 

Or would
they?
 
It all depended on what
happened next.
 
If the people they
were dealing with really wanted them dead, they’d see to it that that
happened.
 
And that’s something
neither of them knew.

“It’s
almost nine o’clock,” she said.
 

“I see
that.”

“We’re
on deadline.”

“You
have a way with words.”

“So, are
you ready to kill me?”

When he
spoke, the sadness in his voice was unmistakable.
 
“I guess I have no choice, Carmen.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Outside,
they walked over to Fifth and took the Children’s Entrance at the Seventy-Sixth
Street entrance to the Park.
 

It was
fall and there was a chill in the air.
 
Carmen discretely took in her surroundings and she could sense Alex
doing the same.
 
In the city, it was
still early for a Saturday night and there were several people on Fifth,
including one woman who was jogging down the street, her blonde ponytail
snapping behind her as if it had a personality of its own.
 

Nobody
here set off alarms.
 
It appeared as
if they were as alone as they were going to get.
 

Alex put
his arm around her and drew her in close.
 
At first she was surprised by the gesture.
 
But then, when his forearm brushed the
butt of her gun, she wondered if that’s why he’d done it.
 

Each
knew the other was carrying, but neither knew exactly where.
 
Now, Alex knew.
 
She put her arm around his waist and
felt nothing but muscle.
 
His gun
was either inside the blazer he was wearing at dinner or it was strapped to one
of his calves.

They
walked down the right sidewalk.
 
A
few other nighttime joggers zipped past them and as they did, Carmen could hear
from their ear pods a range of music styles in their wake.
 
Jazz.
 
Hip-hop.
 
Even opera.
 

When it
appeared that no one was around them, she took Alex by the hand, stepped over
one of the low iron fences and hopped over onto a grassy knoll.
 
Below them, in a protective enclave of
bushes, they could get this over with.

“Where
to?” he said.

“Just
over there.
 
In the curve of those
bushes.”

“You
know this place?”

“I’ve
used it before.”
 
The irony that she
herself might die here was not lost on her.
 
As they approached the bushes, she could
feel her heart ramp up and start to pound in her ears.
 
Adrenaline shot through her.
 
She wondered if she was making a
mistake.
 
He might kill her.
 
It was possible.
 
Or maybe he did have feelings for her
and would stick to her plan.
 
She
didn’t know.
 
She gave his hand a
final squeeze and then let go of it.

“I’m not
going to kill you, Carmen.”

“I’m not
going to let you,” she said.
 
“But
if I fail, at least make it quick.
 
I’ll return the favor.”
 
She
looked up at him, but with the moon shining behind him, she had difficulty
seeing his face.
 
“I’m going to reach
into my handbag and remove the bottle.”

“I don’t
think you understand,” he said.
 
“I
meant it when I said I trust you.”

She
wanted to believe it, but her instinct told her to follow protocol.
 
She knew he was watching her and judging
her moves.
 
She knew he was every
bit as nervous and as dangerous as she was.
 
They were the same person, only
different gender.

She
pulled out the bottle and handed it to him.
 

“I’m
going to lie down there,” she said, pointing to the ground.
 
“Just spatter my forehead with the
sauce, put some in my hair and then dump the rest of it around me on the
grass.
 
Don’t spread it too
thinly.
 
We want to lay it on thick
so there will be enough of it to shine in the flash when you take your
photo.
 
Where’s your camera?”

He
reached into his pocket and instinctively, her arm fell at her side.
 
She was wearing a short jacket.
 
If he pulled a gun on her, she could
bust out his knee, pull out her own gun as he fell and finish him off quickly,
just as she promised.

But he
pulled out his camera.

“You
look worried,” he said.

“The
next few minutes are going to tell me everything I need to know about you and
where we go from here if you make the right choice.”

“Lay on
the ground.”

She
eased back so her eyes never left him and scooted into position, doing so in
such a way that her hand was behind her and within inches of her gun.
 

Now,
with the moon fully at his back, it was even more difficult to see him.
 
All she could make out was a hulking
shape of a man wearing a thick top coat.
 
She could see the bottle in his right hand, the camera in his left.
 
She also could hear the unevenness of
his own breath.

“Take
the sauce, pour a bit on your fingertips and spatter my face with it.”

She
watched him put the camera back in his pocket and then prepare his hands with
the liquid.
 
He knelt down close to
her and asked her if she was ready.
 
She said she was, but she wasn’t.
 
She couldn’t let the sauce get in her eyes.
 
It would blind her if it did.
 
She had no choice but to close her eyes
for an instant, which unnerved her.
 

“Go,”
she said.

She
closed her eyes and felt the sauce pepper her face.
 
She opened her eyes and told him to pour
a bit on the left side of her forehead, which he did.

“Mash it
around,” she said.
 
“Get it in my
hair.”

He
followed through, gently massaging it in such a way that it looked as if she’d
taken a bullet just above her hairline.

“Now
pour the rest just to the left of my head.”

He got
down closer to her and as he did, he dipped down to kiss her.
 
She kissed him back.
 
She reached up and held his face with
the palm of her hand and he kissed her harder.
 
She wanted to trust him.
 
She’d never felt this way for any man.
 
She felt a wave of anxiety come over her
when they parted and he poured the rest of the sauce just around her head.
 
When he was finished, he stood, put the
cap back on the bottle and the bottle back in his jacket.
 
He wiped his hands on the grass.

“Are you
ready for your close-up?” he asked.

Every
part of her body screamed that she wasn’t, but when she spoke, she said that
she was ready.

He
dipped his hand into his pocket, presumably to remove the camera.

“Make
your dead face,” he said.

She made
it, twisting her mouth and keeping her eyes open in shock and horror while
looking just to the right of him.
 
Now, she was at her most vulnerable.
 
He knew and she knew it.
 
Her heart was ramming against her chest.

“I love
you,” he said.

Why are
you telling me that now?

And then
quickly--too quickly?--he pulled the object from his pocket, aimed it at her
head and shot her five times.