Absolution (11 page)

“Yep. Got my collection of wigs all ready to go.”

Best to be practical about it and not dwell on the fact she was going to go bald. Practical, steady and calm.

She’d been brought up to be that way, and she was trying her best to maintain the image.

“Of course you do,” Bryn remarked wryly, climbing off the bed. “Want me to go?”

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“No. I could use a hand, if you don’t mind.”

Emily marched to the bathroom and yanked open the top drawer of the cabinet beneath the ivory granite vanity, pulling out the electric clippers she’d bought for this purpose. Raising her head, she stared into the mirror. So she was about to be bald. No big deal, most chemo patients had to go through this.

What was hair, anyway? Just some dead protein.

She straightened her shoulders, determined to face it with dignity. This damn disease had taken everything else that identified her as a woman—it might as well have her hair too. “And that’s the last piece of me you’re getting,” she vowed to her reflection in a low voice, a shiver running through her as adrenaline started to flow. She’d be damned if she’d surrender and go quietly.

She narrowed her eyes at her reflection and sent the cancer a silent message.
Fuck. You.

Behind her, Bryn glanced at the clippers warily before meeting her eyes in the mirror. “You sure about this?”

No. “Yes.” Em held them out to her. “Here. You do it.”

Bryn took them and came to stand at her shoulder. “We don’t have to do this right now. We could go have a few glasses of wine first, relax a bit—”

“I want it off on my terms, not the chemo’s.” It was all going to fall out anyway, so better that she have control over
something
. Better all at once than piece by piece. She jerked her chin at the clippers.

“Every damn bit of it so that it’s done and I can move on.” “Okay.” The clippers made a buzzing sound when she turned them on. Bryn was five-nine, which put her at a four inch height advantage, perfect for the task at hand. “Ready?”

Emily nodded and curled her hands into fists, 83

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bracing for the first sweep of the clippers. She sensed more than heard Bryn’s sigh as she brought them to her head and made the first pass. They drew across her scalp slowly from forehead to nape, leaving a shiny strip of naked skin. Wisps of hair tickled her face and neck as they fell. This wasn’t deserving of her grief, Emily reminded herself, hating the lump in her throat.
It’s just hair. It’ll
grow back once this is all over.

If you live long enough to see it,
the cancer whispered back
.

She forced the ugly voice from her mind.

Bzzzzzz... More hair fell onto the white tiled floor. Partway through she lost her nerve and looked down at it, the rich brown strands floating through the air to land at her feet. So much of it, though it had been cut short.

Stop thinking about it. It’s nothing. Who cares?

The bathroom fell silent as Bryn finally turned the clippers off, and the fullness of the sudden quiet pressed against Emily. “All done,” Bryn said softly, laying them on the countertop. “Why don’t you go lie down and I’ll clean this up.”

Gathering her courage, Emily lifted her chin to confront her reflection. She smothered a gasp. Her naked scalp was a shock, and she forced herself to lift a hand to touch it. Oh, God. She looked ill now.

Truly, desperately ill. A convulsive swallow rippled through her throat. Any time now she’d lose her eyebrows and lashes, too. That was going to look odd. Bryn put her arms around Emily’s waist and rested her chin on her shoulder. “You’re still beautiful. You shouldn’t be, but you are.”

Emily forced a smile. “Spoken like a true friend.”

“I’m serious.” She studied her in the mirror for a few moments before blurting, “Want me to shave mine, too?”

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On a gasp, Emily turned her head. Bryn would do it, too. “Don’t you dare,” she warned, admiring the gorgeous fall of straight deep brown hair that came to the middle of Bryn’s back. “It’s sweet of you to offer and I appreciate it, but no.”

“Want me to get one of your wigs?”

“I’ll get it.” On her way to the walk-in closet she looked back at Bryn over her shoulder and searched her mind for something to lighten the mood. “Don’t look so worried, I’m fine. And just think—I’ll get a free semi-permanent Brazilian out of the deal.”

“If you’re trying to make me jealous, forget it. I’ll keep my bikini line smooth the regular way, thanks.”

Emily took the box from the shelf and pulled out a short bobbed wig, in a shade close to her natural hair color. She fitted it on her head and smoothed the ends into place before facing Bryn. “Well? How do I look?”

Bryn’s smile was full of genuine pleasure.

“Gorgeous. How come you never cut your hair like that before? It suits you perfectly.”

“Maybe I will once it grows back.” She fussed with the other wigs before replacing the box, eyeing her large pink suitcase set neatly in the corner. After debating it for a minute, she hauled it out and set it on the wide ottoman where she laid out her clothes each morning.

“All right,” she relented, facing Bryn with her hands on her hips. “What am I going to need to wear in Beirut this time of year?”

****

Langley, VA

When Luke got there mid-morning the next day, Jamie was waiting for him in his office. Luke liked his boss. He was mild-mannered and only a few 85

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years older than him.

Jamie’s bright blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled and rose behind his paper-laden desk.

“Good to see you, Hutch.”

Luke accepted the hand Jamie offered and shook it. “You, too.” He seated himself in the wing chair opposite the desk.

“You look like you could use some sleep.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Other than short snatches when he could grab them, sleep wasn’t going to be an option for a while. But he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Lounging back further into the cushy leather, he regarded his boss and cut right to the heart of the matter. “Why didn’t you tell me about Em?”

To his credit, Jamie didn’t even blink. “I wasn’t sure she wanted you to know.”

Fair enough, but it still pissed him off. “How much do you know?”

“All of it. The lumpectomy, hysterectomy and mastectomy as well as her chemo regimen.” He studied Luke in silence for a moment. “You could’ve asked me.”

Yeah, but he would have looked pathetic. “No, you should have told me.” All this time he’d assumed Jamie would speak up if something serious happened to Em or Rayne.

“The deal was I would keep tabs on her, not report her private business to you or anybody else.”

Luke’s hands curled into fists on his tensed thighs. “You knew I would have gone to her.”

Jamie inclined his head. “Yes.”

“And you also knew she was alone through all of this.”

“Not until recently she wasn’t.” He leaned forward and put his forearms on his desk. “What are you doing about it?”

A hell of a lot less than he’d like. “I’m taking her 86

Absolution

to Beirut with me, like we discussed.”

Jamie’s eyebrows went up. “She agreed?”

“As of this morning.” He’d received the e-mail from Bryn when he landed in D.C. “She’s not happy about it, but at least she’s going.”

“Good.” His boss steepled his fingers and regarded him for a long moment. “Anything else, or shall we get on with the business of the day?”

Luke tossed the copy of
To Kill a Mockingbird
on the desk. Jamie glanced up at him. “Still think it means he’s coming after you?”

“I don’t think it. I know it.”

His boss sighed. “Shit. Guess we’d better find out what the hell’s going on, then.”

When Luke nodded, Jamie got on his desktop and connected through to the Kabul office. Luke rounded the desk, taking a seat on the corner of it.

Within moments, Davis and Miller appeared on screen.

“Tell me what you’ve got so far,” Luke said to Miller, who pushed up his rimless glasses with his forefinger. He looked like the analyst geek he was.

Miller was a detail freak. Very little got past him, which was why he was so good at his job.

“Nothing solid yet. Some chatter that Tehrazzi’s moving southwest, but we can’t confirm it. Without the help of the locals, it’s near impossible to corroborate.”

“And you, Davis?” Jamie asked.

Davis leaned in closer, the live feed from the webcam making the video appear jerky and digital.

The former Green Beret’s dark coloring and beard made him look like an Afghan. His average stature and features made him an ideal covert agent, perfectly suited for his role in counter insurgency operations. Luke had seen him change like a chameleon to suit whichever tribe or cultural nuance was needed for a mission. He could be a Taliban 87

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leader one day and a Serbian arms dealer the next.

And he was damn good at what he did, capable of blending in seamlessly with a group in order to infiltrate a tribe or organization. The ultimate operative for Foreign Internal Defense.

Davis’s keen dark eyes looked into the screen as he spoke. “The tide’s turning out here, and not in a good way. Sources I’ve been able to count on for the past three years have dried up like the Great Salt Lake.” He snapped his fingers, his expression and demeanor remaining calm. Yet another trait Luke loved about the guy. He never got rattled about anything. Exactly the kind of guy a man wanted at his back when things turned ugly. “Let’s just say I’m not exactly welcome where I used to be.” Davis’s expertise and ability to earn people’s trust was a winning combination, so him having trouble said a lot. This shift in loyalty only made their job tougher.

If someone as superbly trained as Davis couldn’t gain access to the warlords on the CIA payroll, then things had indeed iced up on the information highway. “But y’all are sure Tehrazzi’s still in country?”

Miller nodded. “As sure as I can be.”

Jamie laced his fingers behind his head. “How do you want to handle this, Hutch?”

“I’ll be in Beirut tomorrow afternoon local time.

I’ll conference you both when I get everything set up.” Miller’s eyes narrowed. “You think he might be headed for Lebanon?”

“Possibly. Or Syria.” Those were the most likely places because of his connections there. And if it was Lebanon, Luke would make damn sure he led Tehrazzi away from Beirut. As far away from Emily as possible.

“Have you got a security team in place?”

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Worry from Miller? Since he had expected some kind of a jocular comment instead, Luke couldn’t keep the sardonic edge from his voice. “I’m touched by your concern, but yeah, I’m set up there.”

Rather than let it go, Miller edged Davis out of the way and moved in closer, a deep frown forming under his carefully styled, but thinning bangs. “You know he’s looking for you. I mean actively hunting.”

“Yep. And I’m counting on him finding me, too.

Just haven’t decided where that showdown’s gonna happen yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”

“You’re planning on coming to Kabul to bring him out of hiding,” Miller said incredulously. “Jesus, do you have a death wish? I thought the whole idea was to draw Tehrazzi away from his supporters—”

Before Luke could reply, Jamie jumped in. “I think we all agree Luke’s the bait we need to catch this particular shark. Once we have more intel he’ll put together a mission plan and brief you all. Now, we all have work to do, so let’s get back to it. Hutch will contact you once he’s overseas.” He ended the conference and the screen went black. When he looked at Luke, his expression was deadly serious.

“You watch your back over there.”

The stark warning surprised Luke. “Will do.”

“Why do I always feel like I’m wasting my breath with you?” Then his boss sighed and regarded him almost fondly. “Who do you want?”

“Davis.” And a dozen more just like him. Pity that wasn’t going to happen.

“That goes without saying. Anyone else?”

“I’ve got my crew assembling over there now, for support and logistics. Would be nice to have a little muscle for backup, though.”

Jamie’s lips curled upward. “Why do I get the feeling this will involve me pulling some strings?”

“I want Dec McCabe’s SEALs on standby.”

“You got it,” his boss replied instantly.

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“Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Luke pulled an envelope out of his jacket and tossed it on the desk. “I’ve made you executor of my will. If something happens to me, I want you to make sure Em and Rayne are looked after. I don’t want them left dealing with red tape and security clearances.”

“Understood.” Jamie took the envelope to a safe in the wall and entered the combination on the keypad.

“Jamie.”

“What?”

“I want your word you’ll take care of them.”

Unflinching blue eyes met his. “I will.”

Some of the tension bled out of his body. There was no one he trusted more than Jamie to look after his family in his absence. “Thank you.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“I would.”

Jamie placed the envelope in the safe and locked the door, then crossed the room to his chair and sank into it. His eyes narrowed. “Don’t do anything stupid out there, Hutch. Killing yourself getting Tehrazzi won’t fix anything. I’d hate like hell for you to wind up a nameless star on the wall downstairs after all these years.”

Luke’s mouth twisted in the semblance of a smile. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“I mean it, Hutch.” His searching expression made Luke believe Jamie could see into the darkest part of his soul. “I’m saying this as your friend, not your boss. It’s not too late to get your life back.”

The words sent a shiver down Luke’s spine. He immediately rose and headed for the door. “I’ll be in touch,” he said over his shoulder.

He didn’t give a shit anymore if he died, so long as he took Tehrazzi with him. It didn’t matter that he’d once loved him damn near as much as a son. It 90