Transfer of Power

THE WORDS WEREN’T going to come easy At least not at first. Anna Rielly was both a proud and a stubborn person, but she was not, as Rapp thought, an ingrate. Milt Adams had closed the door to the stash room, and Rielly was left facing the man who had saved her life.

As Rielly looked at him, she decided she liked him much better when he smiled. In his current serious mood, he looked dangerous. Not just his dark clothes and the various weapons strapped to his lean body, but his chiseled jawline and those dark eyes. The man had an intensity about him that Rielly hadn’t noticed before. His tanned weathered face had the strong lines acquired by a man who does not spend his days in an office.

It was the eyes, though, that both drew her in and made her want to shiver. Dark pools of brown. So dark they were almost black. Framed on top by two thick eyebrows. This was the man who was capable of killing.

The man who had plunged his knife into her assailant.

Rielly’s mouth must have been slightly open because it was suddenly void of moisture. She closed it and swallowed hard; then opening it slowly, she said, “I’m sorry for the way I handled that situation earlier. I don’t want to seem like I’m”-she paused, struggling to get the next word out-“ungrateful.”

Rielly had to look down. It was difficult to look into those dark eyes and make the apology.

“I’m not crazy about signing anything. Especially something the government wants me to sign.” Rielly looked up and made a halfhearted effort at a smile, but the dark orbs on Rapp’s face turned her gaze back down.

“I realize this thing is a lot bigger than me, and if there is anything I can do to help save the rest of the hostages, I’m more than willing to do my part. As far as what happens when this is over… if you wish to remain anonymous, I will honor that. If you feel, or whoever you work for feels, that you need to edit my story before I tell it…” Rielly was forced to pause again, feeling very uncomfortable with this particular concession.

Still looking at the ground, she said, “If you really feel the need to edit out material that you are absolutely sure is too sensitive to report… I’ll go along. I’ll probably do it kicking and screaming, but I’ll do it.”

Rapp was conflicted. His opinion of the young and attractive Ms. Rielly had already been etched into his mind and filed away. Now it appeared he might have been mistaken. She had been wrong, but now she was correcting that, taking a big step to humble herself and admit it. The ball was back in Rapp’s court.