She found she didn't understand the words any more than she did the symbols.
She went to him, knelt by his head. "I'm sorry."
He continued to lift, set, lower. "Feeling better?"
"Yeah. Roarke, I'm sorry. I was an idiot. Don't be mad at me. I don't think I could handle it right now."
"I'm not mad at you." He lifted the bar into the safety, then slid out from under. "The situation occasionally rips my throat out."
"I can't do anything else. I can't be anything else."
He reached down for his towel, rubbed it over his face. "I wouldn't want you to do or be anything else. It's beyond my capabilities not to react as I do when you run yourself into the ground."
"You usually drag me back out before the ground closes over my head."
He looked at her face. Still so pale, he thought. Nearly transparent. "Doesn't seem I was quite quick enough this time."
"Let's go to Mexico."
"Excuse me?"
"The house in Mexico." She figured if she could surprise him, she was still in reasonable shape. "It's been a while. Why don't we take a long weekend once this is over?"
Considering her, he drew the towel between his hands, then hooked it behind her head to bring her closer. "Who's dragging who back out now?"
"Let's drag each other. Give me time to close this down, and you do whatever it is you do to clear a few days. Then we'll run away. We'll lie on the beach, we'll get drunk and have monkey sex. We'll watch film discs until our eyes fall out."
"Go back to the monkey sex."
She laid her hands on his cheeks. "I've got to get ready for the briefing. We've got a deal, right?"
"Yes." He pressed his lips to her forehead, relieved to find it cool again. "We definitely have a deal."
She got up, but when she reached the door, turned back to look at him. He still sat on the bench, lean and sweaty in a black muscle shirt. He'd tied his hair back and had yet to bother with shoes.
And he watched her through eyes so brilliantly blue, it seemed she could dive through them, and into him.
"There was never anybody before you," she said. "I just wanted to say that. And when I did what I do, and it opened a crack in me like it did last night, there was nobody there to hold on to me. I didn't want anyone to hold on to me. Until you. And I got through and I got by, and it was okay. But I think, maybe, if I'd just kept getting through and getting by, I'd have come to a point where I couldn't do it anymore. And if I couldn't do it anymore, it'd be the end of me, Roarke."
She took a steadying breath. "So when you hold on to me, you're helping me stand up, one more time. And the dead, you're standing for them, too. I just wanted to say that."
She went out quickly, and left him staring after her.
When she strode into her office at six minutes after six, she was heavy-eyed, pale, but clear-headed. She found McNab and Peabody had already raided the AutoChef. And Feeney, just arrived, was helping himself to the spread set out across her desk.
"What the hell do you think this is, the Breakfast Barn?"
"Gotta have fuel." Feeney munched into a strip of bacon. "Mother Mary, it's pig meat. Know how long it's been since I had a slice of real pig?"
She nipped it out of his fingers, ate it herself. "Then get a damn plate. You can eat while I bring you up to speed. Peabody, it appears there's no cup of coffee in my hand. I can only assume I've somehow stepped into an alternate universe."
Peabody swallowed a heaping forkful of ham and eggs. "Maybe in this one I'm the lieutenant, and you're…" She hopped up, propelled by Eve's frightening look. "Let me get you a cup of coffee, Lieutenant. Sir."
"You do that. The rest of the team are due here by oh eight hundred. I've already got the diagram of the target area on-screen, with computer-generated selections for personnel placement. We'll consider those and adjust if warranted. Feeney, I'd suggest you take McNab into the surveillance vehicle."
"I'd prefer a spot in the park, sir, and a chance to be in on the takedown."
Eve angled her head at McNab and copped another slice of bacon from the plate Feeney had just fixed. "You should have thought of that before you picked a fight and got your pretty face all banged up. Which will only draw attention to you in a place where children play and birds sing merrily in the trees."
"Gotcha there," Feeney said to McNab. "You're with me."
"You'll want another e-man as point," Eve continued. "You know your men better than I do, so I leave it to you."
"Good, because I've already picked him. Roarke," he said, and wagged a finger at the doorway as the man in question strode in.
"Good morning." He was still in black, and though the shirt and trousers were elegant, he managed to look every bit as lean and dangerous as he had in the muscle shirt. "Sorry. Am I late?"
"You think you're sneaky, don't you?"
He snatched the bacon Eve had snatched out of her hand. "Not at all, Lieutenant. I know I am. Which is why I'm very suited for this op."
"You want in, it's up to him." She jerked a thumb at Feeney. "But remember, this is my op."
He bit into the bacon, handed it back to her. "How could I forget?"
By eight-thirty, the full team was briefed. She began assigning roles and positions.
"Hey, hey." Detective Baxter waved a hand. "How come I have to be a sidewalk sleeper?"
"Because you make such a good one," Eve told him. "And you look so sexy with a beggar's license around your neck."
"Trueheart ought to be the sleeper," Baxter insisted. "He's the rookie."
"I don't mind, Lieutenant."
Eve glanced at Trueheart. "You're too young, too wholesome. Baxter's got some miles on him. Peabody, you and Roarke will do the couple's stroll through this area." Eve used her laser pointer to highlight the diagram on-screen. Trueheart, you're park maintenance staff, and you'll cover this sector."
"I've got the best gig," Peabody told McNab.
"Nobody approaches the suspect," Eve continued. "That time of the afternoon, spring day, the park's going to have a lot of traffic. People taking their lunch in the open air, kids running around. The park's open daily to botany clubs, bird-watching clubs, school field trips. The area the suspect selected is fairly secluded, but there will be civilians. Weapons are not to be drawn without extreme need. I don't want to see little Johnny stunned off the swing set because somebody got jumpy."
She sat on the edge of her desk. "You'll also be on the lookout for the second suspect. We have no way of knowing if they work in tandem during their setup stage. If you spot him, if you think you've spotted him, you relay that data to Feeney. You do not, repeat, do not, move on him. If he shows, he's to be kept under surveillance."
She scanned the room. "To lock this cage tight, I have to wait for this asshole to spike the drink and offer it to me. When that occurs, we take him – possibly both of them – quick, quiet, clean. Questions?"
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The last question was asked and answered, and the troops dispersed. Surveillance and placement in the park would begin at eleven hundred hours.
"The entire op will be recorded. Every man will be wired, audio and video. We'll have all the angles." Still she paced her office, searching for any holes in her plan.
"You'll have him in hand in a matter of hours," Roarke told her.
"Yeah, I'll have him." She stopped, peered out the window. It was a beautiful day, full of flowers and warmth and white puffy clouds. Springtime in New York. Come out and play.
The park would be full of people. That's what he wanted, she thought. He liked crowds. They added to the thrill, the risk, the satisfaction.
Kill in plain sight.
"I'll have him," she repeated. "But I want it quick and clean. Carrying the illegals isn't enough. Mixing it with a drink isn't enough. But once he hands it to me, he's done."
She turned, looked at the board. Looked at the faces.