Fugue State (23 page)

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Training.” He jumped back out of the vehicle and wrestled with something in the back seat. Using a hook, he tossed a snake onto the floor of the front passenger’s seat. She recognized the light brown snake as a viper by its coloring and the “X” on its head.

“What the fuck is this?” Alexa screamed, squirming toward the edge of the seat.

“Stay calm. I’m told they smell fear.”

“Easy for you to say! You’re outside the car.”

Through slow, precise movements she manipulated the door handle with her left elbow, and the door popped open. The viper’s tongue flickered rapidly as it slithered toward her. It raised its head high and displayed its fangs. Its head veered back and then darted forward, striking the seat next to her. As the snake recoiled, Alexa scooted her body out of the car door. Her left foot hit the ground. She stepped her right foot onto the door’s armrest and flung her left leg onto the hood of the vehicle. She struggled to get more of her body onto the hood, but her wrists remained bound to the steering wheel.

The snake followed Alexa’s movements to the driver’s side of the vehicle and struck again at her dangling foot while she struggled to pull it away. When it saw its escape through the open door, it slithered out of the car and onto the pavement. Alexa exhaled and turned her frustration to Mike. His typically solemn face grinned from ear to ear. His unexpected grin somehow soothed her mounting fury. She hadn’t known he was capable of it. He put his hands together and made a meager attempt at applause.

“You did good, girl.” His head bobbed up and down. “That’s two in a row for you. By the way, Charlie told me you broke a fella’s nose. You must have a real knack for that. You broke that guy’s nose yesterday, too. Broke it with the airbag, anyway.” She writhed to keep her torso on the hood, given the contortion of her upper body.

“What are you telling me, Mike? That was
you
yesterday? The SUV that tried to run me down, that was
you
?” Her tone escalated.

“Not me, exactly. I used one of my men. I had to test you. I needed to see you think on your feet. It’s for your own good. I can’t send you out into all that shit without knowing you can handle yourself, that you at least stand a chance.”

Her anger melted into understanding. She glanced over her shoulder. The snake was out of sight. “Am I done? Can you release me — or is this part of my test, too?”

He laughed. “No. I got the key. Give me a minute. I’ll get you down, and we’ll get lunch.”

I’m not convinced these little mind games will prepare me to face Ivan. And I don’t know how much more of this trickery my nerves can take. I’m still a wreck from the near hit-and-run yesterday. After this almost snake attack, I might not ever stop shaking.
She watched her fingers tremble as Mike released the cuffs from her wrists.
I need wine. That will relax me.
She sighed as she shook her throbbing wrists.
I doubt Mike would allow wine.

They walked to a restaurant adjacent to the hotel that she had frequented during her stay. She ordered a salad. He ordered pasta. They sat staring at each other in awkward silence.
How little I know about the man sitting across from me — the man constantly throwing obstacles at me. I need to know more. I need to trust him.

“Tell me about yourself, Mike. I need to know who you are.” His guarded countenance told her sharing his life’s details was not part of the job description.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, wiping sauce from his face with back of his hand.

“Something intimate; details about your family, your life before you started all of this.”

He shoved a mouthful of pasta into his mouth and spoke around the food.

“I was married twice before I started working for Charlie. Neither relationship worked out. I don’t know why I ever got married. I guess I liked the idea of having a family — it just wasn’t right for me.”

“Do you have children?”

“I have a daughter, from my first marriage. We had her young; it’s why we got married. Hell, we were kids ourselves. That same year I joined the military and wasn’t around much. Probably better off that way. Better for everyone, I think.” His stare fixed on something off in the distance.

“Don’t you miss her?”

He took another large bite.

“Your daughter, I mean?”

“I think about her, if that’s what you’re getting at. I think about her a lot. I keep up with her — but she doesn’t know about that. She hasn’t heard from me in a long time.”

“
Keep up with her,
how?”

“It’s not hard for me to find someone. Find out where they live. Where they work. Hell, I can check her credit history. I know she’s doing all right that way. She bought herself a little condo in Atlanta last summer. I was proud of that. She saves her money. That means she’s practical.” He smiled to himself. “She’s got a man in her life. He seems like a good guy, from a good family and all. He’s a college professor. I looked into him; he checked out okay. Maybe they’ll get married. I don’t know.” His voice trailed off. She could tell the small talk made him uncomfortable.

“You’re a good girl, from a good family. You remind me a lot of her. Lily, that is, my daughter. You had a real nice life going for you. I did my homework on you, too. Then one bad turn of events, and you wind up here. Is this really where you want to be right now?”

His honesty was almost too much for her to bear. She tried to avoid such questions, but the words bubbled out of her like water from a mountain spring.

“You know I was a radiologist, Mike. Do you know what that is? The doctor who interprets MRIs and CTs and x-rays?” He nodded. “I was working overnight once in the ER. An internist came down to have me look at a head CT to evaluate for a bleed. We chatted. He asked me how many years of training it took to become a radiologist. I said my residency training was five years after med school, plus an additional fellowship year. I remember the way he rolled his eyes. Medicine is only three years, you see. He told me how he didn’t understand why it took so long. He said radiology was easy — the answer was staring you in the face in black and white.”

Alexa furrowed her brow. “He was naïve to think the job is easy. People tend to think things aren’t difficult when they don’t understand them. It’s funny to me that what he saw was only black and white, when all I see are shades of gray. That’s how I felt after the Jamar incident. Everyone around me judged my actions so harshly. All they saw was that I killed a man, and they condemned me because killing is wrong. It was different to me. I really saw some good in what I did. I thought taking one dangerous man out of the world would make it a safer place for the rest of us.”

His eyes locked on hers. Soft eyes contrasted his harsh façade. A gnat buzzed around his ear; he didn’t blink. She continued.

“Maybe it’s different for those who see the world in black and white, wrong and right, bad and good. The whole thing is a little harder for me to swallow. For years, I devoted my efforts to trying to do what was right for those around me. I helped people, whether they deserved it or not. I’m not even sure
that
work ever really made a difference. Then, when Jamar died — I was proud for being responsible. I felt like I had changed the world, in spite of others’ condemnation. Putting an end to something so evil seemed right. That’s why I killed Mohammed Ahmed. He took so many innocent lives. He wasn’t innocent; he was cruel. He needed to be stopped. I’m glad I stopped him. Now, I’ll stop Ivan.” She tried to sound confident, but her voice cracked with her last sentence.

Mike jumped up from the table and pushed away his plate. “You’re not ready for this.” He started to walk away.

Alarmed, she followed him.

“But I
will
be ready. With your help, I will be ready. Maybe I should meet with the other girls — the ones from the photos.”

“Stop fooling yourself, kid.” His back was toward her, and he kept walking.

“Talking with Corbin helped. The other girls could help even more, help me to understand him —”

He cut her off. “Not possible.”

“I’m not afraid, Mike. You need to know that.”

He turned to face her.

“You should be afraid.” His words cut through the air that separated them.

“But I’m not!”

“The other girls are dead. Ivan killed them. That’s why their eyes were covered like that. He killed them all. They can’t help you.”

She paused mid-step and fought the lump forming in her throat. She scolded herself for not recognizing the post-mortem images on her own. His steps away from her grew longer. She hurried to catch up with him.

“I’m not afraid,” she repeated.

“Why? Because you don’t think you have anything to lose? You have a lot to lose, trust me. You have a lot to live for.”

“I’m not afraid because I
can
do this.”

“Bullshit!” He seemed more than angry; he was emotional. He’d been stone-faced. She didn’t expect this. There was more to it than he was letting on. It was like he cared about her — but he didn’t even know her, not really.

It hit her suddenly.
It’s his daughter. He said I reminded him of his daughter. That’s what this is about
.
Mike isn’t trying to protect me; he is trying to protect Lily.

Alexa focused all of her emotion and energy into sheer force and shoved Mike from behind with all her might. The ox of a man lost his balance for a moment and stumbled two steps forward. That’s all she was capable of — shoving his three-hundred pounds two meager steps. He turned to face her once more. She gathered her balance and shoved him again. He was prepared this time; he didn’t lose a step.

“I
can
do this!”

“No. Not you! We’ll find someone else.”

“I can
do
this!”

They were both yelling now. She reached out to shove him once more. This time, he grabbed both her wrists. His face had turned red, his eyes watery. Although shocked by his teary eyes, she held her ground. She spoke her next words slowly and firmly. “I
will
kill Ivan, Mike — with
your
help.”

“Dammit, girl. Why do you want this so bad?”

“I don’t know, Mike. But I need to do this.”

He paused. His lips quivered, and he looked her straight in the eye. “All right. We’ll give it a try.”

“No. We are not giving it a try. This
is
going to work.”

“Fine. It’s going to be hard as hell, though.”

The tension in her face softened. “That’s why I have you. I need you. You can’t give up on me.”

CHAPTER 28

S
he led him back to the poolside patio. The usually deserted place would be a good spot to devise a plan. They settled at the table with the best view of the sea.

“Why do you think Ivan killed all of the other girls, but not Corbin?” she asked aloud.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. She was lucky, I guess.”

“I think it’s because she stopped being afraid of him. I think she accepted death easier than the others. That’s why he spared her. He lost interest when she stopped being afraid. It’s not their pain that fuels him; it’s their fear.”

Mike nodded. “You may have a knack for this, after all. But I doubt that piece of information is going to help you very much.”

He’s right. That tidbit won’t save me if things go awry.
If Ivan gets the upper hand, no strategy will save me. He’ll take my life without hesitation.
She cringed.

They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing Ivan’s history, distinguishing marks, and patterns of behavior. Alexa took mental notes of the discussion. She even committed the benign details to memory, like the European brand of cigarette he smoked with a white carton and black letters. She saw the pattern of his attire; typically he wore neutral tones, shades of gray, black, or occasional navy. He wore turtlenecks and trousers. Never jeans. He donned dark aviator sunglasses throughout the day, wore his hair short, and appeared clean-shaven.

In one photo, he lacked a turtleneck, and his bare skinned neck revealed something interesting. She saw a scar on the left side of his neck that lie in a similar location to the place she stabbed Jamar. Alexa interrupted Mike’s update on Ivan’s recent travels. “What’s this?”

He looked at the photo and shook his head. “Don’t know.” He dismissed the question and returned to his soliloquy.

She interjected again. “It looks like he has a scar on his neck.” Alexa traced the scar on the blown-up image of Ivan’s face. “It’s right over — his carotid.”
The resemblance is eerie.

Mike had been mentioning details of Ivan’s trek through Switzerland last week, but now stared at her blankly.

“Where is he now?” she asked.

“Versailles, outside Paris.”

“How do you propose that I kill Ivan, Mike?”

“I assume you’ll enter his hotel room just like all of those other girls, and shoot him. I’ll give you a gun with a silencer and make sure you know how to use it. We’ll work on that tomorrow.”

“And if that doesn’t work, is there a back-up plan?”

“No back-up plan. I’m your back-up. I’ll be within ten minutes of you the whole time.”

Ten minutes is too long. I need a plan B — another weapon in case plan A falls apart. I can’t wrestle Ivan, he’ll ki — no. I can’t wrestle Ivan.
Alexa’s finger still lay on the scar in the picture. She thought about using a knife.
I could stab him, just like Jamar.
She imagined her hand slicing through the air.
Seems risky. Doubt I can conceal a knife long enough to finish him off.

What if I didn’t use a knife? What if I used . . . a syringe . . . filled with air?
Air embolism to the brain was a risk associated with numerous medical procedures. She had seen an air embolus once in a male carotid endarterectomy patient in his late seventies who had his vessels “cleaned out” from atherosclerotic plaque buildup. Air accidentally leaked into the artery that led to the brain, causing a stroke, and the patient coded on the table about twenty minutes into the procedure. Alexa had read the emergent CT scan of his head. A peculiar little collection of gas gathered in his Circle of Willis — the place where all of the arteries to the brain converge. Only a hyperbaric oxygen chamber could save him, but it was too late; he died on the scanner.