No Easy Target

“I told you: I’ll survive—” She stopped, gazing at him as she realized what he meant. “You’re worried that he’s going to rape me? I don’t believe that he will. I managed to instill the thought that my magic might not work if he had carnal relations with me. He’d already heard all kinds of stories about virgins being the most powerful priestesses. He might have changed his mind, but I don’t think so.”


“And you’re willing to take the chance. I’m not willing for you to take it, Margaret.”

“Why are you so upset about this? It’s not as if I was a virgin. I just didn’t want him touching me. Yes, it would have been rape, but I know about rape. When I was twelve, I ran into two hunters while I was living in the woods, men who wanted to have a little fun. It took me a long while to get over it, but then I realized that they couldn’t touch or change anything that I was inside unless I let them. And I wasn’t going to let them take one bit of joy from my life.” She added curtly, “And Nicos wouldn’t have been able to hurt me, either. Not that way.”

“My God.”

She felt uneasy about the way he was looking at her, and she said quickly, “But as I said, I think I managed to handle that, so don’t worry about me taking care of myself. I’ll walk a fine line and do what I have to do. I’ll leave the rest to you, with all your Special Forces and your CIA and fancy computers and…” She got to her feet. “Now I’ll leave and go see if Cambry is awake. You didn’t tell me what time we’re flying out of here. I’ll tell Cambry to be ready at eight.”

“You think this is settled? It’s not settled, Margaret.”

“Yes, it is.” She looked him directly in the eye. “When I was lying there in bed last night, I realized that I was partly to blame for the situation that Patrick is in now.”

“Bullshit.”

“No, if I’d done something to resolve that nightmare with Nicos three years ago instead of running away, you and Patrick might not even have had to deal with him. I didn’t choose to do that and I share some of the blame. So unless you can tell me you have that password, I have to do this. With or without you, Lassiter.” She went to the door. “Don’t let it be without you. I’m still pretty scared.”

“You couldn’t prove it by what I just heard. You’re not to blame for any of this, dammit. I dragged you into it.”

She shook her head as she swung the door closed behind her. “There are always choices, Lassiter. I could give you excuses, but I chose to be a victim three years ago. Which had ramifications all down the line. I can’t make that same choice again.”





CHAPTER EIGHT

“I called Lassiter,” Cambry said when he knocked on her door at 7:30, carrying a bag of bagels and coffee. “He said for us to go ahead and take a taxi to the hangar and get the plane ready for takeoff. He said he’d had a new idea that he wanted to explore, and that he’d be with us as soon as he can.”

He’s still working on the password, she thought. She hoped that the new idea had promise. Heaven knows, they needed new and promising. “Whatever.” She walked ahead of Cambry to the ancient rust-encrusted black taxicab parked in front of the office. “I checked out for all of us. Lassiter may be disturbed by maid service wanting to clean the rooms.”

“Not likely. They don’t appear to be that motivated here.” After they had settled in the taxi, he added, “Lassiter told me about the phone call. You didn’t mention it.”

“I would have eventually. I’m still having trouble dealing with it.” She leaned back on the seat as the taxi driver pulled away from the motel. She took the coffee cup Cambry handed her. “But then, so is Lassiter.”

“I noticed.” He added quietly, “This isn’t the way he had it planned. He won’t let you do it, Margaret.”

“He doesn’t have a choice. I know he’s caught in the middle, but he has to go with the lesser evil. He cares about his friend, who will certainly die if he doesn’t let me go to Nicos. If we work it right, I have a good chance of living and giving him a way to save Patrick.” She turned to look at him. “Do you know Sean Patrick, Cambry?”

He nodded. “For the last eight years. He’s a good guy. One of the best.”

“I thought he might be. It seems as if everything that’s happened has happened because of him. I just feel as if I need to know him. He’s gone through so much. Lassiter has gone through so much for him. I know Lassiter believes that he’s worth it.”

“He is worth it,” Cambry said. “And Patrick would be doing the same thing for Lassiter if the situation was reversed.” He paused. “But that doesn’t mean that you have to—”

Sadness.

Sadness.

Sadness.

Loss.

Soon.

Sadness.

Her hand clutched her coffee cup as the cry suddenly struck her. Strong. So strong that it took her breath away.

Sadness!

And close.

“Margaret?” Cambry was looking at her, puzzled.

Soon.

“I’m okay,” she said absently.

Where?

No answer.

Show me!

No answer.

I can’t help you unless you show me.

Trying.

“You’re not okay,” Cambry said as he reached for his phone. “I’m calling Lassiter.”

“Do what you want. Just leave me alone.”

And then she saw it.

She leaned forward and said to the taxi driver in Spanish, “There’s a mine near here, isn’t there? Probably only a couple miles? I need to go there.”

He shook his head. “Sí, pero está cerrado ahora.”

“I don’t care if it’s closed down right now. I need to go there,” she repeated fiercely. “Now.”

He shrugged. “No use. Está cerrado. And very bad road.”

She looked him in the eye. “Now.”

He scowled. “As you wish. But I charge you more.” He made a left turn onto a bumpy dirt road. “And if I get a flat, you buy me a new tire.”

“Just get me to that mine.”

“May I ask where we’re going?” Cambry asked. “I caught something about a mine. Second question: Why the hell?”

“Yes, it’s a mine. Second answer: I don’t know.”

“You’re acting weird, like you did last night. What’s going on? And don’t tell me this time that you heard some baby crying.”

“I never told you that was what I heard. I said it was a possibility. I didn’t know. It was just easier to get things done.”

“But you know now?”

“Yes, I know.”

A wire fence about twelve feet in height loomed just ahead.

“Pull over!” She jumped out of the taxi even before it had come to a full stop and ran toward the gate. It was ajar, as she’d guessed it would be. The wide timber-reinforced opening of the mine was twenty or thirty yards from the gate. She darted toward it.

Where?

No answer. Then a rush of overwhelming grief.

Sadness.

Don’t tell me that. And don’t give up. You’ve gotten this far. Show me where.

Hesitance. Then a picture, clear and detailed.

“Oh shit,” she murmured. She turned to Cambry, who had run up behind her. “Deep. And lots of timber and debris. Find me a shovel.”

*