“Sure felt like it to me.”
He laughed. “It was supposed to. Come on, do you think we met in Venice by accident? Like it was Kismet? It was a job, man. The whole thing was a setup.”
“You mean like ‘accidentally’ running into me and Rook in Boston? Was that to find out what I knew?”
“No, I was just tailing you. Or was, until fucking Rook spotted me. My assignment in Venice was to get in your pants and work that to get close to your mom.”
“To kill her?”
“Not at first. To find out some things.”
“And then kill her.” Nikki gritted her teeth, fending off her own fury to stay focused on getting him distracted.
“Yeah, kill her. Like I said, it was a job. I’m good at it.”
“Except for the suitcase.”
“Right. I fucked that up. I used that old piece of shit to carry papers from your mom’s desk and forgot all about it. Hey, it was ten years, I’m allowed one.”
“That’s not all you screwed up.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The High Line. You were the sniper, weren’t you?”
“And?”
“And you blew the shot.”
“I didn’t blow the shot. There was an earthquake.”
“Then you blew the second shot.”
“No way.”
“And the one you could have taken at the end of the line. I saw the laser dot. But instead, you jumped.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You bet I am.” Nikki took a step toward him.
“Stay where you are.”
She took another step. “I want you to shoot me.”
“What?” He shined the light in her eyes and raised his gun, but she took another step. “I’m warning you, stop.”
She moved closer. “You seem to be real good at slipping knives in women’s backs. Can you put one of those bullets in me? No you can’t. Come on, Pet. Face-to-face. Right here. Bring it on. I’ll even make a better target for you.” She moved closer yet.
But he took a step back and bumped into the support pillar he’d been leaning on. A sound like the low roar of the sea floated up the tunnel. The train was coming. Right on time. He wagged the gun, gesturing her to step to the edge.
Heat stood firm.
“Go on. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”
“For whom, Petar?” She took one more stride closer. They were only three feet apart, and for the first time, she could look into his eyes. And he, into hers.
“Now,” he shouted.
“Do you really think I’m going to make this easy for you? Stand with my back to you so you can give me a shove?”
His eyes darted away, then returned.
The roar grew into a rumble. The concrete platform vibrated.
“You killed my mother. You lied about loving me. Take me out of my misery, you son of a bitch!”
“I’ll do it,” he said.
Nikki smiled and spread her arms before him, daring him to go ahead.
And then she heard the whine of a small power tool and metal grinding. Sparks showered down through the ventilation grate at the top of the stairway, falling into the dark tunnel like fireflies.
Petar turned to look at them.
Nikki made her move.
She threw herself toward him, leaping inside the danger circle of the gun on his right side. Her arms were already up from her “go ahead and shoot me” gesture, and as she brought her body next to his, her right hand was in position to lock onto his wrist to aim the gun away. At the same time, Heat brought her left elbow up over his shoulder and spiked it into his nose.
He cried out but managed to keep his grip on the pistol. Heat delivered a sharp knee to his quad. With her right hand still clamping his wrist, she wrapped her left on top of the Glock and began to twist the barrel inward to point back at him.
Petar must have had some combat training, too. He surprised her by suddenly dropping his butt to the floor, pulling her off balance. Nikki fell forward and hit the deck on top of him, still clutching his gun wrist, but her other hand had come free of the Glock.