The Darkest Day

TWELVE

Janice Muir ran every day, either on a treadmill or the old-fashioned way. Sometimes she ran twice a day. She did so for health and sanity, not for a figure. She had always been thin. Her mother told her she would look better with a few more pounds on her and her mother might well be right, but Muir didn’t care. She had never been vain, never cared for fashion, and she was too old to start caring now. Her health came first, her work came second. There was no room for a third concern in her life. Guys didn’t seem to understand that.

She finished up her evening workout, showered and changed into her work suit. She would change again when she was back home, this time into some loungewear or maybe straight into her PJs — it was rare she wore anything but smart business attire, running clothes or PJs. She didn’t get the chance to go out much and was never comfortable in civilian attire. Muir liked her outfits to match her mood and she was almost never in the mood to wear jeans and a strappy top.

She headed to the parking lot where her cobalt-blue Acura sat reverse parked. She thumbed the bleeper only when she was a few feet away and climbed in, dropping her gym bag on to the passenger seat.

Something felt wrong when she started the engine, but she only realised what when she engaged her seat belt and checked her rear-view mirror, seeing —

The dark silhouette of a man in the back seat.

Despite her long years with the CIA, despite her training, she hesitated, but only for a second.

Her hand snapped towards the gym bag, towards her nickel-plated SIG Sauer.

She had it out of the bag, cocked and ready before a further second had passed. She swivelled, aiming the gun, and —

Recognised the man.

‘Hello, Janet.’

‘Christ, you asshole. I almost killed you.’

‘No you didn’t. The SIG’s empty.’

She hesitated, then realised it weighed less than it should. She thumbed the catch and withdrew the magazine. It was indeed empty.

‘How did you…?’

‘That’s not important.’

Muir creased her brow and placed the empty SIG back in her gym bag. ‘I think we’re going to have to disagree on that.’

She knew him only as Tesseract, a code name designated to him because no one knew his real name. She had met the man a handful of times before and each and every time she had been frightened, although she liked to think she had hidden the fact. He had almost killed her on their first meeting. It had been the only time in her career with the CIA that she had believed she was going to die. That fear had never gone away.

‘But what is important is how you answer my question,’ the man whose real name she didn’t know said. ‘Was it you?’

‘Are you talking about Prague?’

He nodded.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Whatever you’re talking about had nothing to do with me.’

She saw him studying her. She knew if he didn’t believe her then she would not live much longer.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I believe you.’

Muir couldn’t hold back the sigh of relief, but she was still annoyed. ‘That’s because I’m telling the truth.’

‘Which is why I believe you.’

‘I thought you knew me well enough by now to know that I’m not looking to set you up.’

‘I don’t delude myself into thinking I can ever really know anyone.’

‘How depressing for you. And I really mean that,’ Muir said.

‘I can see that you do. Can you see that I don’t care?’

She ignored the rhetorical question. ‘Could we not have done this via email or even the phone like normal civilised human beings?’

‘I’m far from civilised, Janice. I thought you would know me well enough by now to know that.’

‘Why don’t you tell me what happened.’

Tesseract did. He summarised the events from his perspective, knowing Muir would have seen reports. She listened without interrupting as he described his confrontation with the assassin.

After he had finished, she said, ‘Is this personal? Is this about you?’

‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘I have more than my fair share of enemies. You know that. I live each day expecting it to be my last. I know there are people out there hunting me. Right now, they’re trying to track me down, and sooner or later they always do. I don’t know who will find me next or when or how they’ll do it, but it’s inevitable.’

‘So that’s a yes then?’

He shook his head. ‘Prague doesn’t feel like one of those times.’

‘It doesn’t feel like one?’

For a few seconds she was worried her surprised tone came across as sarcastic, but he didn’t react.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t feel like it.’

‘I didn’t take you for the kind of guy who went with instincts over logic.’

‘Instinct is unconscious logic that’s hardwired deep in the mind.’

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Then explain this feeling to me.’

‘I’m a difficult man to find. If someone wants me dead their best bet is to come after me when they know where I am. That’s usually soon after I’ve earned their wrath. They wait, I’m gone.’

‘So you’re saying you haven’t pissed anyone off recently?’

He didn’t comment on the swearing. Muir hoped he appreciated she was toning down her profanity level for his benefit.

‘I’ve been a good boy, yes.’

‘And it’s inconceivable no one from your past has tracked you down?’

‘That’s not what I said. It’s unlikely, which is why I’m here. And enemies of mine tend to work in groups or send teams. A lone shooter is rare.’

‘You didn’t really believe it was going to be me, did you?’

‘Of course not,’ he said, toneless.

‘Then why come here?’

‘To make certain. And to find out who supplied the target.’

She hesitated. ‘That’s classified.’

‘I expected more from you, Janice.’

‘Come on, you know I can’t talk about that kind of thing. We’ve been through this before. You know how the agency works.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t. But I’m not agency, you just use me to do the jobs that are too dirty for even the CIA to go near.’

‘That’s not exactly how we see it.’

‘I don’t care what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night. What I do care about is not being sold out so you can protect some bureaucrat from a possible senate hearing a decade down the line.’

‘I protect you too,’ Muir said.

‘Not right now you’re not.’

‘I’m not sure what to say to that.’

‘Then this is where we part ways.’

She took a breath. ‘I don’t think that’s necessary.’

‘I think you’ve shown what you deem necessary so as not to be misjudged.’

Muir said, ‘Now you’re being immature.’

‘I beg to differ. I told you before: I’m not an employee. I’ve told you before of my intolerance for withholding information.’

‘Related to the job,’ she was quick to add. ‘You know everything I do. I’ve always been full and honest with you about anything operational.’

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

‘Someone wants me dead, almost certainly because of my last job. Therefore I need to know who assigned Al-Waleed bin Saud as a target.’

Muir said, ‘That’s not relevant.’

‘What is relevant though is that I know your nine-month-old Jack Russell is diabetic and she’ll do anything for a belly rub.’

Any fear Muir felt melted away, leaving anger behind. She didn’t try to hide it. ‘I won’t ask how you know that.’

‘Good,’ Tesseract said. ‘Because I won’t tell you.’

‘But I will ask why you felt the need to know?’

‘Insurance. Don’t pretend you don’t have any, Janice. Don’t pretend you don’t know exactly what to say to me to save your life if I had a gun to your head right now. You’re far too smart not to have prepared for the moment when I turn. You think it’s inevitable, don’t you? I’m a hired killer. No morality. No loyalty. You’ll never trust me, and that’s the way it should be. Like I said, you’re too smart not to have insurance. You’re also smart enough to know that pretending otherwise is a waste of both our time.’

‘Is that why you told me about Daisy? You’re threatening me?’

‘I’m being honest. I’m reminding you before I walk away that no matter how bad it gets some day from now, no matter how much pressure you’re under, do not hang me out to dry. I’m reminding you that no matter what you fear in this world, you need to fear me more.’

Her voice was low: ‘You don’t need to remind me. I know exactly what you are.’

‘No, you don’t. Pray you don’t ever find out.’

He worked the door release and climbed out of the car.