The Hit

Chapter





81





“I COULDN’T PULL THE TRIGGER,” Reel told Robie.

It was later that afternoon. They were sitting in Robie’s apartment. Reel looked totally dejected.

“It was sanctioned,” he said.

“I know it was sanctioned.” She paused. “I told him to close his eyes. Like you told me to. When he opened them I was gone.” She looked up at him. “Just like you were.”

“It was your choice. But I have to say I’m surprised.”

She let out a long breath. “You let me live, Robie, when everything you’ve done the last dozen years was telling you to pull the trigger on me.”

Robie sat down next to her. “You didn’t deserve to die, Jessica.”

“I killed people. Just like Whitcomb.”

“It’s not the same.”

She snapped, “At every important level it is the same.”

Robie remained silent.

Reel wiped her face. “He was just an old, tired man sitting there. And he wasn’t afraid of dying.” She rose, went to the window, and stared out, her forehead pressed to the cool glass. “I couldn’t pull the trigger, Robie, even though I wanted to.”

“He wasn’t an old, tired man. He was quite the warrior on the football field and off. Special forces in Vietnam, killed his share of the enemy. Guy was quite the badass in his day. And during his tenure as the APNSA, he orchestrated the killing of more members of terrorist organizations than any of his predecessors. He always goes for the jugular. Not a guy you would want against you. Kent found that out. So did Decker.”

“So why are you telling me all this?” Reel asked.

“To let you know that you have more compassion than he or I do. I would have shot him and not even thought twice about it. And he would have done the same to you.”

“So what will happen to Whitcomb?”

Robie shrugged. “Not our concern. I don’t see him going to trial, do you?”

“So...?”

“So just because you didn’t pull the trigger doesn’t mean that someone else won’t. Or maybe they’ll bury him in some cell at Gitmo.”

“Pretty high-level guy to go out like that. Media will be all over it.”

“The media can be controlled. But let’s hope no more high-level guys attempt something like this.”

“So what happens to me now?” she asked.

Robie knew the question was coming. It was certainly a legitimate one. And yet he wasn’t sure he knew the answer.

“The fact that they sent you after Whitcomb tells me that things are back to the status quo.” He looked at her. “Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ll ever know. If I couldn’t pull the trigger on Whitcomb, who’s to say I’ll ever be able to pull the trigger again?”

“You’re the only one who can ultimately answer that.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to answer it.”

“There is some good news.”

“What?”

“Janet DiCarlo came out of her coma.”

Reel’s eyes widened. “Robie, there might be others out there. If they know that, she’ll be dead in—”

He held up his hand. “No she won’t.”

“Why?”

“Cerebral hemorrhage. She’s not...she’ll never be the same as she once was.”

“And that’s good news?”

“She’ll get to live.” He paused. “Would you like to see her?”

Reel nodded.

Two hours later they stood at the bedside of Janet DiCarlo. Her head had been shaved and deep suture marks were stamped on her scalp where major surgery had been performed to relieve pressure on her brain. Her eyes were open and she stared up at them.

Reel reached out and took her hand. “Hello, Janet,” she said in a husky voice. “Do you remember me?”

DiCarlo stared up, but no recognition came to her features.

“My name is—” Reel broke off. “I’m just a friend. An old friend who you helped a long time ago.”

Reel looked down when DiCarlo squeezed her fingers. Reel smiled.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said.

Reel looked over at Robie. “We’re going to be okay.”

No we’re not, thought Robie.

A few seconds later his cell phone buzzed. He looked down at the screen. The message was short but definitely to the point.

They were being summoned.

And now it starts.