The Hydra Protocol

EPILOGUE

Julia Taggart closed up her office after her last consultation — a poodle whose nails had been clipped too short — and headed out the front door, intending to go home and… do something. Maybe there would be dinner involved. There would certainly be a television there. She watched a lot of TV these days, mostly just so her apartment wouldn’t sound so empty.

Before she could take a dozen steps toward the subway station, though, a man came walking up the street, waving and calling her name.

Her heart sank when she saw him. She knew him — they had met one time before.

“You’d better come inside,” she said, because she didn’t want anyone to see her talking to him in the street.

He was very tall and very thin, with short hair that managed to look messy. He wore a sweater vest and tie, even in the oppressive heat of August in New York City. He always smiled, even when it was ridiculously inappropriate.

He’d never given her his name. She knew perfectly well what that meant.

“I did what you said,” Julia told him. “I broke up with him. Why can’t you leave me alone, now? I haven’t even spoken to him in months.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, showing lots of teeth. “And your country appreciates that.”

He had said he would out Chapel. Reveal his identity to the media, release all the details of his missions to any reporter who wanted to listen.

For someone with as many enemies as Jim Chapel, that would be a death sentence.

He’d said the only way to make sure that didn’t happen was if Julia cut all ties with Chapel — refused to ever see him again.

She had demanded to know why. The little man said that her relationship with Chapel was a liability and could compromise his effectiveness. It was an obvious lie, but Julia had never gotten any more out of him.

She had wrestled with whether or not to do what he said. In the end she’d decided she loved Jim enough to make the sacrifice. To keep him safe. She had walked away.

Done exactly what this man had asked.

“Well, then, what the hell do you want now?” Julia demanded, back in the office that was starting to warm up already since she’d turned off the air-conditioning. A bead of sweat started rolling down the back of her blouse. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be free of it all. Even before he’d come to her, she had wanted to be free, away from the web of secrets, the uncertainty, the never knowing. She might have broken up with Chapel on her own. It was the main reason she hadn’t told this little creep to go fuck himself.

She had to admit, though, she’d been scared. The kind of people Chapel worked for could do things to you. They could make you disappear, if you didn’t do what they said.

“Did Rupert Hollingshead send you?” she demanded now.

The little man’s smile just grew. “That’s kind of funny, actually. That you would think that. No, I’m with a different agency. I’m a civilian.”

“CIA?”

The little man just smiled. She wasn’t going to get an answer there.

“Listen, I just came by to show you something.” The little man took a piece of paper out of his pocket. It was folded untidily into a little, thick square. He unwrapped it fold by fold and then handed it to her. She saw it was a printout of a photograph. It was black and white and the resolution wasn’t very good, but she could make out what it showed all right.

It showed two people standing on what looked like a hotel balcony. One of them was Chapel, definitely. She didn’t know the other one — a woman with black hair, wearing a very skimpy nightgown.

In the picture Chapel was… touching her.

He had his hand in her panties.

Julia put a hand over her mouth, because she didn’t want the little man to see her reaction to the image.

“That was right after you dumped him,” the little man said. “Can you imagine? He couldn’t even wait for a decent interval.”

She threw the piece of paper back at him. “What the hell is your problem? Why would you show me this?”

“I just wanted you to know you made the right decision,” the little man said. Her anger seemed to surprise him. “I wanted you to see what kind of man Jim Chapel is.”

“Get out,” she said. “Get out! And never come back!”

The little man ducked his head — it wasn’t quite a nod — and headed for the door. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again,” he told her.

She just stared at him, her emotions so large they threatened to turn her inside out.

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” he said.