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“No matter how he finally managed to find out who she was,” Adam said, “he did find out and then he set up this elaborate scheme.”

“Krimakov was always so straightforward,” Thomas said, “back then. No deep, murky games for him.” Then he sighed. “People change. It’s frightening in this case. He’s taken more turns than a byzantine maze.”

Hatch, just a bit of mozzarella cheese clinging to his chin, rose and said, “I’m going to go out and see what our guys are doing. They were eating their way through three large pizzas the last time I saw them.” His pepperoni pizza box was empty, not even a cold thread of cheese left.

“If you smoke out there, Hatch, I’ll smell it on you and I’ll fire your butt. I don’t care what you’ve found out, your butt’s on the line here.”

“No, Adam, I swear I won’t smoke.” Then Hatch sighed and sat down again.

Adam, satisfied, turned to Becca. “As for you, Becca, eat. Here’s my last piece of pizza. I even left three olives on it. I didn’t want to, but I looked at your skinny little neck and restrained myself. Eat.”

She took the pizza slice and sat there holding it, even as the cheese cooled and hardened. She picked off an olive.

Savich said, smiling at everyone, perhaps preening a bit, “Oh, yeah, I’ve got something that’s not supposition. MAX found Krimakov’s apartment. It’s just a small place in Iráklion. Mr. Woodhouse knows about it. He’s sent agents in.”

Everyone stared at him a moment, gape-mouthed.

Savich laughed. He was still laughing when the phone rang minutes later. “That’s on my public line,” Thomas said as he rose. “The tape recorder will automatically kick on and it will tell me who’s calling.” He saw Becca blink and smiled. “Just habit,” he said as he picked up the phone.

He didn’t say a word, just stood there, listening. He was pale as death when he nodded and said to the person on the other end of the line, “Thank you for calling.” Becca jumped to her feet to go to him. He held up a hand and said in a very low, contained voice, “The two agents guarding Becca’s room are dead. Agent Marlane is dead. The agent posing as me is dead, shot through the head, three times. I shot Krimakov’s wife through the head,” he added unemotionally. “The security cameras are smashed. There’s pandemonium at the hospital. He got away.”

23

Adam came into Becca’s bedroom at just after midnight to see her sitting up in bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, staring blankly at the wall. A single lamp was turned on and in the dim light he could see that she was pale, her face strained. She looked over at him and said, guilt weighing her down, heavy in her voice, “I still can’t believe it, Adam. Four people dead and it’s because of me.”

He quietly closed the bedroom door and leaned back against it, his arms crossed over his chest. Her feelings weren’t unexpected but it still made him angry. “Don’t be a damned fool, Becca. I’m the one who carries most of the blame because it was my fucking plan in the first place. What no one can figure out is how the bastard managed to walk right up to the guards outside the room, close enough to see the color of their eyes, and shoot them. Of course he used a silencer. Then he waltzed into the hospital room and kills the other two agents before they can react. To top it all off, he shot out the security camera. And poof-he’s gone, escaped, and no one can figure it out.

“Everyone knew he was coming, it was a trap, contingencies all covered, and sure enough he walked right into it, only it didn’t stop him. We lost. Whatever his disguise, it must have been something. My God, four people are dead.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that, they’re gone. Damn him, how did he do it? What did he look like to make them lower their guard?”

She shook her head numbly. “Tellie Hawley still doesn’t know anything?”

Adam shook his head. “They’ve been studying all the security cameras all over the hospital, and they’ve spotted some men who might be possibles. I told him that didn’t make sense. Track down the little old ladies, track the folk on the cameras who no one in his right mind would take for Krimakov.” He moved away from the door and walked to the side of her bed. He leaned over and lightly touched his fingers to her cheek. “I came to check on you. I imagined you would be blaming yourself, and I was right. Stop it, Becca, just stop it. It was a good plan, a solid plan. Any fault for its failure comes right to my door, not yours.”

She turned her face into the palm of his hand. She whispered against his skin, “He doesn’t seem human, does he?”

“Oh, he’s human enough. I want him very badly, Becca. I want to kill him with my bare hands.”

“So does my father. I’ve never seen anyone so enraged, and yet his voice remained calm and controlled. But it was so cold, so deadly. I wanted to shriek and yell and put my fist through a wall, but he didn’t.”

“Control is very important to your father. It’s saved his life on several occasions and other people’s lives as well. He’s learned not to let emotion cloud his thinking.” He cupped her face in his hand. “I haven’t learned it yet, but I’m trying. A terrible thing happened, Becca, but please believe me, it wasn’t your fault. We’ll catch him. We have to catch him. We’ve both got to get some sleep.” He kissed her mouth, then immediately straightened. It was hard because he wanted to kiss her again, and not stop. He wanted to ease her back down and pull up that virginal nightgown of hers and get his mouth on every bit of her he could get naked. He wanted to make both of them forget the horror, for just a little while. But he knew he couldn’t. He took a step away from the bed. “Good night, Becca. Try to get some sleep, all right?”

She nodded mutely. The pain in her eyes, the god-awful guilt that was still burrowed deep inside her-he just couldn’t stand it. He kissed her again, hard and fast, and before he lost his head, he was out of her bedroom in a flash.

In the hallway, he was frowning, rage at Krimakov roiling away in his belly, when he walked straight into Thomas, who was just standing there, watching him, a thick dark brow arched.

Adam came to a dead stop. “Dammit, I didn’t touch her.”

“No, of course not. I never thought you did. You were in there to ease her guilt, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but I doubt I was successful.”

“There’s enough guilt for all of us to wallow in,” Thomas said. “I’m going downstairs for a while. I’ve got some more thinking to do.”

“There isn’t any more thinking to do, there’s just worrying and second-guessing, all sorts of worthless shit like that. Wait a second-it just occurred to me that he’s got to be pissed, rattled. After all, he was expecting to find both you and Becca in that hospital room, but you weren’t there. He has to doubt himself now, his judgment, his take on things. He’s been meticulous up until now, but this time he wasn’t able to be thorough enough. He screwed up big-time. He was wrong. I don’t know what he’s going to do next, but whatever it is, he might make another mistake. He’s also got to contend with the fallout of his cold-blooded murder of four federal agents. They’ll mount the biggest manhunt in a decade. He can’t believe he’s so good he can just walk away from this, that he’s somehow immune from capture. We’re not alone in this anymore. Everyone and his aunt knows about him and what he is.”

“I know that, Adam.” Thomas shoved his long fingers through his hair. “You know how quick he is, how clever. Look at how he flushed all of you out of that house in Riptide and then snuck in and hid in Becca’s closet. That took balls and cunning. And luck. It is possible that you could have missed Chuck when you were all scouring the area for him, possible that you would have found Chuck tied up and gagged, but you didn’t. He was lucky there and he got her.