Noble Intentions: Season Three (37 page)

She lunged to her left with no
regard to how she would land. The car crashed into the side of the building.
She felt pain radiate through her body. From where, though? It covered every
inch of her being. She forced herself to look up, expected to see her leg
pinned between the car and the wall. It wasn’t though. She’d avoided being hit
by a few feet. She pulled herself up. The man in the driver’s seat was draped
over the steering wheel, half inside, half outside the car. Jagged shards of
glass had shredded his flesh.

“Clarissa,” Hannah screamed.

Clarissa forced herself all the way
up. She scanned the street and sidewalk. The crowd that had formed made it
impossible to see much at all. Hannah screamed again. Mia did, too. Clarissa
balled her hands into fists. She realized that they were empty. She scanned the
ground around her. Couldn’t find the Sig, located the Browning. She scooped it
up. Her right forearm screamed in pain when she gripped the pistol.

The sliding door of the van started
to open. Clarissa moved forward, away from the van. She still was unable to
locate Hannah and Mia. She climbed up on the tan car’s trunk. From there, she
had enough of a view to see everything that was happening on the street. People
continued to make their way to the crash site. Police sirens whined in the
distance. The car must have been a few minutes away still. She couldn’t find
it.

She heard more screams. Saw the
blond man moving against the flow of onlookers. He had Mia on his right hip.
His right hand was wrapped around Hannah’s hair and he dragged her toward the
car. No one stopped to help or interfere. A second man emerged from the
vehicle. She knew him, had seen him before. Maybe at Naseer’s house, she
thought. He took Mia and put her in the backseat. Then the guy pulled out a gun
and aimed it at the girl. He said something indecipherable over the hum of the
crowd.

Clarissa shifted the Browning to
her left arm, raised it toward the men. She yelled, “Let her go.”

The man looked toward her, whipped
his arm around and fired. The shot went wide of Clarissa. She heard a woman cry
out in pain and then a body hit the ground. The man fired again. Clarissa
jumped from the trunk. Pain shot through her knee. She planted her right hand
on the ground, but was unable to use it to help her up. She managed to get to
her knees, then her feet. She aimed her gun in the direction of the car. The
crowd in front of her parted. The blond man stood outside the driver’s door. He
pulled it open.

“Bastard,” Clarissa yelled.

The man looked at her, cross at
first, then he smiled. She pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the door next to
the man. He shook his head. She took a second, inhaled, steadied her left arm,
took aim. An arm crashed down over hers. She fired into the street. Bits of
hardened asphalt shot up like molten lava. The blond man smiled again before
disappearing into the car. Tail lights lit up then faded. The car pulled away
from the curb.

“Come on,” a man said from behind
her as he pulled her to her feet. His hand squeezed her forearm and she yelled
out in pain.

“Let me go,” she said, driving her
heel into the guy’s foot.

He dragged her away, spun her,
carried her to the black van. She fought, kicked, thrashed. It didn’t matter.
She couldn’t break free. He tossed her into the van, then got inside. She
backed into the corner. Her heart sank when she saw Randy shaking his head at
her.

Randy was there to clean up the
messes they made.

She had made a massive mess.
Sinclair had found out. He’d send Randy to deal with it.

“Screw you,” she said.

He smiled, nodded toward the front
of the van. The man behind the wheel turned around and stared at her.

“Sinclair,” she said.

“It’s time for you to go.”

Hannah wrapped her right arm around
Mia and pulled her close. Through tear filled eyes, she stared at the man
behind the wheel. He glanced up at the rear view and met her stare.

“What do you want with us?” she
said through clenched teeth.

Neither man said anything.

“Why don’t you let us go?”

Again, no answer.

“You bastards. There’s gonna be a
whole team of men so far up your asses you’ll wish you were dead. And they’re
gonna accommodate that wish. That’s what they do. Your lives are as worthless
as that dog crap you just drove through.”

“Oh, shut up,” the man driving the
car said.

“Tell me where you’re—”

“I said shut up.” He nodded at the
other guy, who turned in his seat and aimed his pistol at Hannah.

She pushed Mia away and leaned
forward. “Do it, then. Or aren’t you man enough?”

The guy smiled. “Don’t tempt me.”

“You aren’t gonna do a damn thing.
Aim that gun somewhere else.”

The guy shrugged and shifted in his
seat. Perhaps he assumed she’d given up. He couldn’t be more wrong.

“What are you doing?” the man
driving said.

“I’m not going to shoot them and
you know it,” the guy said. “You know our orders.”

Hannah leaned back, turned and
stared out the window. Buildings passed by in a blur. Just like the endless
trees back home, the city was its own kind of wilderness. The car turned several
times and she had lost sight of where they were. Next to her, Mia alternated
between sniffles and sobs. Hannah pulled her close again.

They remained silent for the
remainder of the trip. The further they got from the city, the more Hannah
feared that either she or Mia, or perhaps both of them, would not be alive in a
day’s time. Although, would the men have taken them in broad daylight, on a
crowded street, if their intention was to kill? If only she could gauge what it
was they wanted.

She didn’t want to think about it
any longer. She wished she had stayed home instead of returning to England. In
light of everything that had happened, dealing with her father for a few months
would have been a breeze compared to the past couple days.

Mia pressed closer. Hannah felt the
girl’s breath, hot on her hand. She knew at that moment that she was where she
was supposed to be. Who would protect the girl if not her?

The car turned onto a residential
street in what might have once been a nice neighborhood. They passed several
rows of homes, old and dilapidated and in disrepair. They made a left, then
another left onto an alley that ran between two streets. The man driving
stopped behind a home. The other guy got out, unlocked and opened a gate. They
passed through, and the man closed the gate then walked ahead of the car and
opened the garage door. They pulled inside and stopped. The driver stepped out.
The sunlight faded as the door was once again shut. The driver opened Hannah’s
door.

“Get out,” he said.

Hannah eased her legs out, used the
door to pull herself up in front of the guy.

“Back up,” he said.

She turned ninety degrees and took
a step back. The guy stepped around the door, reached in and pulled Mia out. He
set the girl down. She quickly found Hannah and wriggled in behind her.

“What now?” Hannah said.

The men exchanged glances. The
younger guy pointed toward a door.

“In there,” he said.

“You first,” she said.

He pointed his gun at her. “You
don’t give the orders here.”

She thought about taking it a step
further, forcing the men to make her move. Then she felt Mia’s grip on her
hand. The soft touch encouraged her to cooperate. The moment would come when
one of the men would slip up, she figured. They underestimated her. A big
mistake. It was only a matter of time before she would claim vengeance.

She passed the man and opened the
door. The room was dark and musty. Dim light filtered through the painted
glass. A half-inch of dust coated everything. It didn’t appear that anyone
lived in the house. She reached out and felt along the wall. She flipped the
light switch, but nothing happened.

“No power here,” the guy said.
“Move inside.”

Hannah pulled Mia along with her as
she entered the house through the kitchen. A pile of dishes lingered in the
sink. She didn’t get close enough to see if they were dirty or clean, but if
the smell was to be an indication, they hadn’t been washed previously.

“Keep moving,” the guy said.

She felt the tip of his pistol in
the middle of her back. She pushed Mia forward and continued through the
kitchen into an empty room.

“Up the stairs.”

They turned and headed up a flight,
round a corner, up another flight.

“Down the hall. Last room on the
right.”

She followed the directions, came
to a closed door. She reached out and turned the handle. A burst of stale air
escaped the room. Inside, there were two beds with no sheets and a rug in
between them. The room was empty otherwise. The window on the wall was covered
with dark drapes pulled tight. Not a single sliver of light penetrated through.

“Go in.”

She ushered Mia through the doorway
and toward one of the beds. The girl settled down on the edge of the bed.
Hannah took the other.

The guy followed them in. “There’s
a battery operated light in the corner. Don’t dare open the drapes. We’ve got someone
across the street watching. So help me God, if you do, I’ll beat you.”

Hannah said nothing. Mia sniffled.

“We’ll be up in a little bit with
food and to let you use the restroom. Don’t even think about trying to open the
door. It’ll be locked, anyway.”

“How long are you going to keep us
here?”

“Until they tell me to move you.”

“Who?”

The guy did not respond. He wagged
his right index finger, took a step back, pulled the door closed. Hannah heard
the lock turn into place. She resisted the urge to check the door knob. Mia
didn’t, though. The girl got up and raced toward the door. She grabbed the
handle and turned and pulled.

There was a banging from the other
side. “I said don’t touch the damn door.”

Mia jumped back and started to cry.
Hannah reached out for her, pulled her onto the bed and held her tight.

“We’ll be out of here soon,
sweetie. Don’t you worry. We’ll be home soon.”

“So what have you been doing?”
Sinclair said.

Clarissa looked at the floor, said
nothing.

“You don’t know how to respond
anymore?” he said.

“I can get it out of her,” Randy
said.

“Shut up, Randy,” Sinclair said.

Clarissa thought through a
half-dozen scenarios intended to get her out of the van and away from the men.
None logically ended with the result she hoped for. For now, her best bet was
to remain silent, still, and see what Sinclair wanted with her. Would he slip
up? Say something to give her a clue? Not likely, she thought.

“You know I have ways of making you
talk, Clarissa. Think back to the first time we met.”

She didn’t have to think hard. The
encounter had become ingrained deep in her psyche. There wasn’t a week that
passed where she didn’t awake in a cold sweat thinking about Sinclair’s needle.

“It doesn’t have to come to that,
child. I just have a few questions for you. But, as always, it is up to you how
we proceed.”

Clarissa thought it over for a
moment. She knew, no matter what, Sinclair would get the truth from her. He’d
get it through any means necessary, if need be. She had prepared herself for
this moment long ago. She figured this conversation would occur over the phone,
which would have made her less afraid of the possible results.

“Well?”

“What do you want to know?”

“How did you get here?”

“How did you find me here?”

He grinned, traced his mustache
with his thumb and forefinger. “You first.”

She glanced from Sinclair to Randy,
who looked on, bemused. Her stomach knotted at the possible reasons he was with
them.

“Spiers met me on the train. I
spotted him early on. He approached and identified himself. It became clear
that I had little choice but to remain with him.”

“He’s a good agent,” Sinclair said.

“Yeah, well, anyway he got a call.
Told me plans had been changed. We weren’t in Paris for long before we took
another train to Brussels. There we met two women and a kid and escorted them
to a small village. Spiers was to watch over them.”

“Who gave him this job?”

Clarissa shrugged, said nothing.

Sinclair studied her for a moment.
He didn’t need a needle to determine whether or not she was telling the truth.
She knew he saw through her lie.

“Go on,” he said.

“We went to this old house outside
an old village. The next morning, I went into town for some milk, coffee, you
know, stuff for breakfast. A car stopped in front of the store, then
disappeared.”

“What kind of car?”

“Mercedes or BMW, I guess. You know
I don’t care about cars. It was sleek and sliver and had dark tinted windows.
It was foggy out, misty. I couldn’t see the house until I was close. I saw that
same car there, in the driveway. I approached through a field. One of the men
came outside. I waited, then attacked and took him out.”

“Took him out?”

She looked away. “Temporarily, I
suppose. He was gone when I went back outside.”

“What happened when you went
inside?”

“I found Spiers dead. Don’t think
he even had a chance to defend himself. Then I killed the second man.”

“Do you know who these men were?”

She shook her head.

“Could you identify them if you saw
a picture?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s all a
blur. The guy outside, I never saw his face without blood all over it. The guy
inside, I only saw him for a moment. Erin was shot—”

“Who?”

“Erin, one of the women, she was
shot. We tended to her and got her out of there. At that point, I didn’t know
whether or not the guy would come back in or what was going on.”

Sinclair nodded. He looked away and
eased back in his seat. Randy continued to stare at her. She averted her eyes
toward the solid side panel to her left.

“So why didn’t you call me?”
Sinclair said. He remained seated forward.

“I was scared,” she said.

“Scared of what?”

“Your reaction.”

“How did you expect me to react?”

“I figured you’d be angry.”

“Why would I have been angry?”

“Because I wasn’t in Paris. I’d
left, possibly blowing everything we’d been working toward. It could have
ruined the in we’d built with Naseer and his men. So many people have put in so
many hours to get us this far. I’d hate to be the one to destroy that.”

Sinclair nodded, said nothing.

“I knew I had to tell you, but I
wanted to figure out if things were still OK with Naseer first.”

“Well that won’t be much of a
problem since he’s dead.”

“What? When did that happen?”

“Last night. But he had a
contingency plan and he still has men he trusted who can run the operation. And
yes, you are going to figure out whether or not we still have our connections
with his group. And if we don’t, you’ll be the one paying the price. You’ll be
going in unsupported.”

Clarissa said nothing. His words
had been intended to threaten or scare her. They didn’t. She had been prepared
to walk into the lion’s den, alone and unarmed. The fact that Naseer was no
longer there might make it easier. Or harder, depending on who stepped up and
took over.

“One last thing,” Sinclair said.

Clarissa looked up.

“Why did you continue to help those
women? Even today, you were with them. Why?”

Something about the way he looked
at her told her that he knew. Maybe it was the twitching of his fingers or the
intense burning in his good eye. Regardless, she decided to come clean.

“Jack,” she said.

“Noble?”

“Yeah.”

“Go on.”

“He was the one that wanted them
protected. He called Spiers.”

“Because he knew you were with
them?”

She shook her head. “He doesn’t
know that I’m in London. I haven’t reached out to him. I played dumb with
Spiers. Jack knows nothing about me being here.”

“I wonder how he and Spiers knew
each other.”

“We all know each other,” Randy
said. “You’re just never invited to the convention.”

Sinclair shook his head. “Yes,
well, we’ll determine whether or not he knows you are here at a later date.” He
put the van into gear and pulled away from the curb.

“Where are we going?” she said.

“Away,” he said.

“But the girls,” she said.

“What about them?”

“I’ve got to help them. Didn’t you
see those men kidnap them?”

“One of those men was a British
Intelligence agent. I’ve got every reason to believe they thought you were
going to harm the two girls and that’s why they took them.”

“That’s a load and you know it.”

Sinclair said nothing.

They drove until they reached the
M11. They merged onto the highway and headed north.

Jack double parked the Audi at the
back of the emergency room parking lot and ran toward the entrance. Halfway
between the car and hospital the thought occurred that he might have left the
door open. He felt the keys strike his leg with every step he took, so no one
could steal the vehicle, easily at least.

Bear had remained with Alex and
Jon. He’d said he wanted to spend a little time with Mandy to make sure she was
OK. The kid hated being cooped up for more than an hour or two. Jack imagined
she’d had a tough time being underground in a box for so long.