Final Target (32 page)

"I won't have to make a run for it. I'll take the helicopter Travis arrived in…after I get the Wind Dancer."

The Wind Dancer. She could see the gleam of gold on the table above her. Would it lure him close enough for her to get a shot at him? Or would one of his bullets strike her first?

Another shot. Very close.

She gasped and then gave a low cry.

Deschamps grunted with satisfaction. "All right. You've gotten in my way for the last time." Silence. "Did it hurt? I hurt your sister, didn't I? I saw the blood spurting out of her before I ran out." He stopped, listening.

He was testing her, hoping she'd break if the bullet hadn't hit her.

"I was hoping to be able to take my time killing Travis. I admit I'm disappointed. I wanted to see him hurt. I haven't felt this much hatred for anyone since I killed my charming stepfather."

Bastard.

"Did you see him bleed when the bullets hit? There are legends about the Wind Dancer having a fondness for blood. Wars…the guillotine…Do you think there's anything to those tales?"

She didn't respond. Come on, you son of a bitch. Let me see you.

"You really shouldn't have involved yourself. You're not clever enough. It was pitifully easy fooling you at St. Ives."

He was stirring, moving.

Yesl

She could sense him on the other side of the room. Come closer. See the pretty statue. Come and get it.

He was coming. Very cautiously; but he was coming.

Her hand tightened on the gun.

Another shot.

A hot, deep pain in her upper thigh.

Don't scream. Don't move. He had to think she was no threat.

"I heard that bullet hit home. There's nothing that sounds quite like that soft thud. You're either a Spartan or you're unconscious or dead. I wonder which it is. I'll make sure as soon as I get the Wind Dancer." He was closer, though not close enough. She couldn't move quickly and she'd have only one chance. "My God, what a thing of beauty it is. I can see those eyes glittering at me in the darkness. It's almost enough to make a man believe all the stories about it."

Shock surged through her as sudden light illuminated the room. He'd relit the lantern. Christ, he was only a few feet away! She froze and held her breath. Her hand tightened on the gun half hidden beneath her body.

But he gave her only a glance, his attention focused on the statue with total fascination. "Alexander, Charlemagne, the Borgias," he whispered as he gathered the statue in his arms. "And Edward Deschamps. It has a splendid ring, doesn't-Shit!" He clutched the statue as he fell to the floor. "What the-"

Travis had his arms wrapped around Deschamps's ankles and yanked the legs out from under him. There was blood everywhere. Travis's blood. On Travis, on Deschamps. But, sweet Jesus, Travis was still alive!

Deschamps recovered immediately. His gun swung to point at Travis.

"
No
!" The thirty-eight exploded in Melissa's hand.

One shot.

Two.

Three.

Deschamps jerked as each bullet entered his body. Blood poured from the wounds in his stomach.

He looked down in disbelief.

She fired again and he dropped the gun. " Bitch." Tears ran down his face. He clutched the Wind Dancer with his bloody hands and crawled toward the door. "Doesn't matter. You still won't win. I've got it. That's all that's important. I've got it…"

And he might still get to the helicopter and get away. She didn't know how he was managing to even move. Yes, she did. He was obsessed and Jessica had told her fanatics sometimes seemed to draw on superhuman stores of endurance and strength.

Jessica.

No way was he going to get to the helicopter.

She shot him in the head.

Chapter Twenty-Five

"That…hurts." Travis opened his eyes as Melissa pressed a strip of shirt to the wound in his lower shoulder.

"Shut up. You're lucky to be alive. Where's Galen?"

"I…didn't need him."

"You ran out on him."

"No one knew he was mixed up in this. Andreas…he won't be satisfied with…statue."

"You gave him Deschamps."

"He's dead?"

"Yes, and you did it. Do you hear me?"

He tried to smile. "Strange, I don't remember that. Are you trying to make me a hero?"

"I'm trying to save your neck." She moistened her lips. "I never thought I'd get the chance. I saw you dying, Travis. I saw the wounds in your chest and your face…You were dying."

"But you'd tackled me and pulled me down. The bullet didn't hit my chest."

"You might not have been shot at all if I hadn't been here."

"Or I could have been shot and killed. Who the hell knows?" He closed his eyes. "Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll go to sleep. I'm very tired."

"Just so you don't die on me." Her voice was shaking. "I went to a lot of trouble to keep you alive."

"Wouldn't…think of it."

He was unconscious. Keep the pressure on the wound. She'd put a makeshift bandage on her own leg wound before she'd crawled over to Travis. How to get them both help? Andreas probably wouldn't come near this place. He wanted Travis and Deschamps to both die.

Galen.

She fumbled in Travis's pocket, pulled out his phone, and began to dial.

The door was flung open. "Hands in the air!” A half-dozen men streamed into the room.

Suits. Indisputably CIA. For God's sake, it was like that break-in yesterday morning at the cottage.

" I'm
not
putting my hands in the air. If I take my hand off this compress, he's going to bleed to death. Where the hell is Danley? Let me talk to Danley."

"I'll have to do. Danley's busy securing the area." Andreas walked into the room. He looked down at Deschamps. "Is this our man?"

"Yes, I'm sure Danley's shown you pictures of him."

"But it's difficult to tell with half his head blown off"

"It's Deschamps. Travis got rid of him for you." She added fiercely, "So you get him some help."

"I have every intention of doing that. How is he?"

"The bullets went through his shoulder. He's lost some blood, but he'll live…if you don't screw up."

"I don't dare screw up. You l ook like you could use some help yourself." He motioned to one of the men. "Paulding, you get a medical team out here." Then he knelt beside her.

"Leave me alone. I'm okay."

" Let Travis go. We're not going to hurt him."

"How do I know that?"

"Cassie won't let me."

"What?"

He smiled. "She woke up."

"Oh, my God."

"That was my reaction. I felt like I could walk on air…It was damn wonderful. Even though she was almost hysterical and screaming at me to save Travis. She must have overheard us talking about him last night."

She had overheard all right. But not the way Andreas meant. "I told you how she felt about him."

"Yes, you did." He stood up. "We'll get you back to the house and get the bullet taken out."

" Not unless you bring Travis with me."

"You don't trust me?" He smiled. "I promised Cassie I'd bring him back to the house. It was the only way I could get her to quiet down. Do you think I'm about to send her spiraling away from me again? I'd move the whole damn world to keep that from happening."

She studied his face and then slowly nodded. "I can see you would."

"And now I'd better get back and tell Cassie that her hero is safe."

"But what about after Cassie is better? Will Travis be safe then?"

"We'll just have to see, won't we? I still want to break his neck." He moved toward the door. "I'll see you at the house." He stopped beside the body and bent down to pick up the Wind Dancer Deschamps was still clutching. "There's blood on it."

"Deschamps said the Wind Dancer liked blood."

"Ridiculous. How could it like or dislike anything?" He wiped the blood off the Wind Dancer and then smiled down into its emerald eyes. "After all, it's only a statue."

"Melissa. The monsters…Michael!"

"Shh. They're gone. Michael is safe. He's hurt, but he's right here beside me. We're in a van on the way back to the house."

"That's what Daddy said."

"Believe him."

"But I saw Michael-"

"I know what you saw. But it didn't happen. It doesn't have to happen if we fight it."

"Scary out here. Maybe I'll go back in the tunnel."

"Don't you dare
¹
. I'll go in and drag you out again. What if Michael or your daddy or mom needs you? What if I need you? You didn't like having your daddy go help Michael, did you? You wanted to do it yourself."

"Yes."

She had known a child as strong-willed as Cassie would have that response. "
So would I. And how can you do anything while you're in there hiding
?"

Silence. "I'll stay awhile. It's kind of…nice to be back with Daddy."

That she was already beginning to cling to her father was promising. Tentative acceptance was probably as much as Melissa could hope for. Jessica would have known how to deal with her at this stage; Melissa could only go by instinct. "
I'll come to see you tomorrow morning
."

"Now."

"Tomorrow," she repeated firmly.

"But I want to see you. I've seen you only the way you see yourself."

And she wanted to see Cassie awake. "
Okay, it may be a while. The doctor's going to have to take care of my leg
."

"I'll wait. Will Michael come too?"

Melissa looked down at Travis, who had been given a shot by the doctor who had arrived on the scene after Andreas had left. "
Perhaps we'll both go and visit him tomorrow. He got pretty banged up fighting the monster
."

"But he's alive?"

"
Oh, yes, he's alive
." Thank you, God. It was a night for thanksgiving. Thanks for Travis. Thanks for Cassie. "
We're pulling into the driveway. I have to go now. I'll see you later
."

"You did come," Cassie said. "I told Daddy you would. He said the doctor would put you right to bed."

"He tried." Melissa made her way forward in the wheelchair. "And I can stay only a few minutes."

"Are you hurting?" Cassie frowned. "You
are
hurting. I can feel it."

"It'll go away. The doctor gave me some medicine to make sure it does." She stopped beside the bed and just sat, looking at Cassie. The girl was thin, but the fragility was gone, banished by the sheer vitality in her expression. "You look…good."

"And you're prettier than you think you are. Almost as pretty as Mama." Her voice cracked on the last word, and she made a face. "I'm all hoarse. I sound like a frog. Daddy said it's because I'm not used to talking anymore."

"That would cause it." She couldn't get enough of looking at the child. So alive. So wonderfully alive. She'd never seen this Cassie except in photographs and TV news. "It should get better in a few days."

"I don't care. It makes Daddy laugh." She smiled. "And then I laugh."

"That's the way it works."

"I forgot." Her smile vanished. "You're still hurting. You go to bed."

"Yes, ma'am." She turned and wheeled toward the door. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Early. Come early, Melissa."

"Stop it. You don't have to talk to me this way anymore."

"It's easier."

"Don't do it anyway."

"But my throat's sore. You wouldn't want me to hurt my throat."

"Not that sore. And people don't understand when you talk like this. It would worry your mama and daddy."

"Well, then I won't do it with anyone but you."

It was clear Cassie was going to get her way regardless of whatever Melissa said. Accept the compromise. "
That might work
."

"Are you sure Michael is all right?"

She opened the door. "
The doctor said he'll be fine
."

"I've been worried. I've been trying and trying, but I can't reach him. If I stay out, he has to stay out too. It's not fair otherwise."

"What are you talking about?"

"
You tell him. It's not fair
…"

"I want out of here "Travis said as soon as Melissa came into his room the next morning. "And what are you doing in that wheelchair? Deschamps
did
hurt you. I wasn't sure the bastard was lying. I hoped to hell he was."

"Be quiet." She moved close to the bed. "I'm okay. I'm just bound to this blasted chair for a while. Cassie and her father are going to visit you, but I wanted to see you first." A luminous smile lit her face. "She came back last night, Travis."

He stiffened. "My God."

"She was jarred out of the trauma when she thought you were dying."

"How is she?"

"Scared, eager…beautiful." She swallowed hard. "So damn beautiful. I went in to see her last night and again this morning, and she smiled at me. I've never seen her smile."

"Neither have I."

She drew a deep breath. "We have to get you out of here. Right now Andreas is all sweetness and light." She grimaced. "As much as he can be. But once he's sure Cassie's okay, I don't know what he'll do. He's finding forgiving you a little difficult."

"That qualifies as the understatement of the year. I didn't expect forgiveness."

"Well, if we get you away, it may be a case of out of sight, out of mind. He's got Cassie and the Wind Dancer back, and Deschamps is dead. He can't have a pound of your flesh too."

"No?"

"I've called Galen. He's going to come and pick us up within the next half hour."

He frowned. "I don't want Galen involved."

"No one has to know he's anything but a commercial pilot. He's taking us to Nice, and from there we'll go to Juniper."