“Don’t you recognize her?” Alexander continued. His voice was flat and unemotional. He stayed where he was, his back to the door. I was slightly ahead of him, just inside the room, facing the man who had raped and tortured me for two long, painful years. “After all, she’s one of yours. Ellie Samuelson. You held her for two years. You haven’t forgotten?”
Blood was pounding in my head. This was his secret. This was why he visited Hanoi. He was Dylan’s son. And he had just named me Ellie. He knew who I was.
“Bright star,” Alexander said to me. His hand reached out from behind me to lace his fingers in mine and to hand me a gun. His gun. “You are owed your revenge. Dylan has stayed alive for too long. I share the blame in that.” His voice spoke at my back but I was immobile with shock. I couldn’t turn and look at him. “There’s more than one bullet in the gun and it’s ready to fire.”
My fingers automatically curled around the grip. My index finger hooked around the trigger. I slid the safety off.
He knew who I was. He knew I was Ellie. He remembered that night in Saint Denis. He knew everything and he’d still brought me to Hanoi. He’d given me a gun.
He had known I was going to kill his father. His words implied that he thought I should kill him too.
The images flashed before my eyes in one giant jumble. Dylan beating me. Alexander rubbing lotion on me and holding me. Dylan caning me. Alexander holding me close. Dylan throwing me in a cage and withholding food until I learned to behave. Alexander wandering through the night market with me in Bangkok. His careful attention to my comfort. His obvious pleasure when I came to him, bold, unafraid, letting my need shine through.
Blood might have bound them together. But they were not cut from the same cloth. They could not have been more different.
Blindly, I shook my head in rejection of the idea that I’d ever want to kill Alexander.
There was no thought in my brain, not even a single one. But there was instinct, honed by years of hard training. I saw my hand raise and I registered the way the barrel lined up with Dylan’s forehead. I saw Dylan’s eyes widen with terror. His lips formed one word. ‘Son.’
I’d had a speech planned. “Remember me?” I should have asked. “My name is not slave. Not girl, not cunt. My name is Ellie Samuelson. And you are not my Master.” Yet those had been the dreams of an innocent girl. Trained assassins didn’t delay enough to voice pretty speeches. They shot quickly before a counter-attack could be made.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion.
My finger squeezed the trigger. The weapon fired. Dylan crumpled to the floor and the gun fell from my nerveless fingers.
Chapter 23
Ellie:
“Come, we must go.”
I looked up from my daze. That wasn’t Alexander’s voice. Jean-Luc was speaking to me and Alexander was over by the body, just looking down at his father.
What was Jean-Luc doing here? Where did he come from?
“Now. Both of you. Move.”
At the snap in Jean-Luc’s voice, Alexander looked up. His eyes seemed to focus again and he nodded. “Make sure Bethany gets out,” he said. Then he fell silent again. He wouldn’t look at me.
“Ellie, come on,” Jean-Luc urged. “We’ve got to go. Dylan’s guards will be here any second. The cops could be behind them. Let’s go.”
I looked up at Alexander, who was still avoiding my gaze. “You want me to go with you?”
“Seriously,” Jean-Luc grated out. “Is this the time for this particular conversation? Leave now. Alexander – your plane is waiting. I’ll follow on a separate flight. And Ellie?” He looked at me. “Do not try and kill Daniel Schneider on the way out.”
“I wasn’t going to,” I said flatly. My mind was still reeling. This haste, this bustle, it was essential unless I wanted to rot in a Vietnamese prison. But the end of the road had been reached and it felt that there should have been more ceremony to mark it. “He never raped me,” I continued. “He just watched.” I shuddered slightly. “I have to respect the difference. Else, I’m no better than Dylan.”
Alexander looked up sharply at that, but he still didn’t speak. He hadn’t said a word after I shot his father. I wondered if he hated me. He had given me the gun, but now that I’d acted, I couldn’t tell if he regretted the gesture.
There was no turning back now. The deed was done.
We stayed in silence as we left the compound, encountering no one. The Jeep’s tires squealed as the driver drove us straight to the airport. Once we were loaded into the waiting plane, it taxied off.
***
“Won’t we be the only suspects because of how quickly we left?” I was desperate to hear what Alexander had to say, even if those words were words of reproach and hatred. I had to know how he was feeling.
“Jean-Luc is laying some false trails right now,” he replied quietly. He didn’t meet my eyes. “That’s why he isn’t on the plane with us.”
“Ah.” I fell silent. “Alexander,” I started again, after a few minutes of quiet.
He shook his head. “Not now, Ellie, please?” His voice was strained. “I just want to sleep. Can we talk when we reach Paris?”