I was in no doubt that Cain would contact Walter soon. He hadn’t gone to all the trouble of snatching Jennifer to now sit on his thumbs. Pretty soon the demands would start, and I could be in motion again. I hated the feeling of futility while waiting for the deranged bastard to call, but had no choice. Waiting I’m not good at. My need to get going was like an itch I couldn’t scratch and the longer it went on, the more agitated I became. I considered taking Harvey’s advice and heading back to Rene Moulder’s place to check in with Rink, but that meant putting myself out of the loop for the best part of the day. I wanted to be on hand the moment that Walter gave me the nod. That meant staying close to his retreat, and the transportation I’d require.
Harvey left reluctantly, and I knew he wasn’t happy leaving me to deal with Cain alone. Just before setting off he appraised me with his molten chocolate gaze and I knew he was considering the alternatives and didn’t like what he was coming up with. Finally he’d just shaken his head slowly, clambered into his chopper and lifted off. I watched until the helicopter was lost in the cloud haze to the south. I was sorry to see my friend go, but at the same time happy that no one else I cared for was involved in the danger that constantly dogged me.
I tried sleeping; bunking in a back room as far away from where Bryce and the others had died as I could find, but sleep eluded me. Instead, I got up, showered, ate a sandwich and drank some coffee. Then I set to prepping my weapons. The SIG gleamed by the time I was done, and I turned my attention to the shells supplied to me by Walter. Contrary to popular belief, guns don’t jam, ammunition does. I checked each bullet individually before feeding them into three clips. Choosing. 40 S amp;W or. 357 SIG ammo would have given me more stopping power, but the clips held less capacity than the fifteen rounds that 9 mm Parabellums allowed. I had the feeling that I’d need plenty of bullets before I was done and the forty-five I had to hand wouldn’t necessary be overkill. Next I honed my Ka-bar.
My weapons prepared, I turned to honing my natural weapons.
I ran, following the river through the wooded valley, one ear always on my cellphone should Walter call me back in a hurry. When my breathing had settled into a rhythm, and my body was sufficiently warmed and lubricated, I incorporated strengthening exercises into my workout. On a large boulder that jutted over white water, I went through a sequence of attack and defensive movements taken from various martial arts forms. I finished my workout by stretching, then sat on the rock, listening to the sound of the rapids below me. Rink could have lost himself in the hypnotic lull of the rushing water, but I was too edgy for that. I got up and ran back, forcing myself to even greater effort. By the time I arrived at Walter’s cabin I’d killed a couple of hours, but there was still some waiting time ahead of me. But maybe it wouldn’t seem as interminable.
Imogen was standing on the stoop, her chin tucked low into her collar as she watched me jog across the field towards the house. She had her hair under a hat that was as much a disguise as it was to keep off the cold. She looked much as she had when we’d stood over her sister’s headstone back in Maine, only her tears were for something different this time.
Slowing, I walked the last twenty yards or so. Imogen kept her face dipped, but her gaze on mine. When I was still ten paces away, she came to meet me. Maybe I didn’t have the right, but I opened my arms and she entered their circle and snaked her hands around my waist.
We just held each other and I could feel her heartbeat against my chest. When we finally stepped apart, Imogen held on, her right hand clasping a handful of my sweatshirt like she’d never let go.
I’d thought that the best thing for her would be if I walked away, but I could see that I’d been wrong. Walking away didn’t change a damn thing. Imogen was inexorably tied to me and she always would be. I could be on the other side of the planet and she’d still be within the sphere of influence that surrounded me, and therefore in peril from those who would do me harm. Better then that I keep her close and that way she’d be much safer. I pulled her into my embrace and she tilted her mouth to mine in silent acknowledgement.
When she stepped back she did let go, but the bond between us was stronger than before.
‘I’m sorry, Imogen…’
Really I had no way of explaining myself, feeling awkward as I attempted to order an apology in my mind.
Imogen placed a finger to my lips.
‘It’s behind us. Let’s leave it there, Joe. Let’s leave everything there.’
Everything.
She wasn’t talking about the recent attempt on her life, or any of the other times she’d been in danger because of her attachment to me. Neither was she talking about the fact I’d walked out on her leaving Hartlaub and Brigham to pull her out of the fire. She was talking about Kate. If I’d thought about it too long, then maybe my answer would have been different, but right then, right there, I had only one way of showing her everything would be OK between us. I took her in my arms and kissed her again.
The cabin was no place to take a lady, so we strolled down by the river, out from under the prying eyes of the CIA men. My clothing was damp from my exertions, but I didn’t feel the cold. Neither of us did as we took up where we’d left off that night in Maine before our rude interruption. Afterwards we sat side by side and watched the water flow by. I found the soothing pull of the river easier to lose myself in that time.
‘Hartlaub and Brigham are going to stay with me until you’re through.’
‘They’re good men,’ I said.
‘They’re killers.’
Yes, they were, but that’s the type of men I needed watching over her. I looked at her studying me. Maybe she was reassessing exactly what I was.
‘Once I’d have found that abhorrent,’ she said. ‘But now…’
Hers was a moral dilemma I’d often struggled with: in a civilised world there should be no need for men like me, or her CIA minders, but civilisation was just a veneer. Despite four thousand years of supposed development we were no more than a rung above our savage forebears. Actually, I’d often thought that we’d taken a step back down the ladder and were worse than the beasts that only killed to survive. There was nothing in nature like Tubal Cain, I was certain. And, as long as something like him lived, it vindicated my existence.
Changing the subject, I asked, ‘Whose idea was it to come here?’
‘Whose do you think?’
I rolled my neck. ‘I thought Walter was behind it.’
‘Walter tried to put me off. He said it wasn’t appropriate. He was wrong. It’s shown me exactly the kind of life you have to… endure.’ She laid a hand on my forearm and her expression was earnest. ‘But I wanted to see. It has helped make my mind up. It doesn’t matter to me where you go… what you have to do… I want to be there for you, Joe.’
‘They showed you what happened inside?’ Even after a clean-up crew had sanitised the room, I hoped that Imogen hadn’t been exposed to the pall of violence that still hung over it.
‘No. But I didn’t need to see that. It’s enough that I can imagine it. You shouldn’t have to deal with things like that alone.’
‘I’m not alone. I have Rink and-’
Imogen cut me off. She put her hand against the side of my head. ‘I’m talking about up here, Joe. I’m talking about you carrying the burden inside your mind. I want to help take some of the pain away.’
I held my palm on the back of her hand. It was soothing, but I doubted anything could take away the guilt I carried. Her offer was generous, though, and not one I wanted to turn down. Finally, I twined my fingers with hers and brought down our clasped hands on to my thigh. ‘Thank you. I want that too. But… well, there’s still things I have to do alone.’
‘I understand. I just want you to know that I’ll be waiting for you when you come back. OK?’
‘OK.’
We leaned in and kissed, gently this time, as if sealing a pact. Then we stood, straightening our clothes. Imogen jammed her hat down over her mussed hair. Now it was no kind of disguise. Anyone who looked at us would guess exactly what had gone on. We smiled like abashed teenagers.
‘Come on,’ I said, leading her by the hand. ‘I don’t know about you, but I think I need a shower.’
Just like last time, it seemed that our lovemaking heralded future dramatic events and that my shower would have to go on the back burner. No sooner had I made the suggestion than my cellphone bleeped. I dug it out of my sweats and looked at the screen. It was Walter. He knew I was out there making amends with Imogen and there could be only one reason for disturbing me. Cain had made contact.