Lets not keep the ambassador waiting. Shall we?
She laughed to cover her shiver and tucked her gloved hand into the crook of the arm he offered.
It was an hour or so later, maybe two-Lucia had lost all track of time-when she and Corbett left the embassys heavily secured courtyard and began to stroll along the rue du Faubourg St Honoré. They walked slowly, close together, like lovers reluctant for the evening to end. The night had turned cold and raw. There were few people on the streets, though by Paris standards it wasnt late. A nasty little wind riffled Lucias hair and curled freshly around her neck and under her skirt. She moved closer to Corbetts side, telling herself it was permissible to do so, that they were supposed to look like lovers, after all. And she tried not to enjoy too much the warmth and closeness of his body, the smell of his jacket and aftershave.
A little ripple of something-perhaps a combination of pleasure and suspense-shivered through her. As if hed felt it, Corbett pressed her arm, the one that was tucked through his, closer against his side, an odd little hug that may have been only encouragement but somehow felt more intimate than that.
You did very well tonight, he murmured, and his voice wasnt soft like a lovers, but had a slight rasp to it, as if the words didnt come easily. Handling-ahdealing withmeeting my parents.
She glanced up at his profile and saw the crease of a wry smile in his cheek, even as his narrowed eyes roamed the street and sidewalk ahead, missing nothing. I thought they were wonderful, she said sincerely, then shrugged. Your mother especially. She seemed much younger than I know she must be. Your parents would be in their seventies, right? I assume-
Mother is seventy-six, Corbett said. My father will be seventy-nine in February. He glanced at her, smiling that same wry smile. By the way, I thought you did an admirable job of not bursting into a fit of giggles when he kissed your hand.
I wouldnt have!
I was watching your face. You were on the verge, dont tell me you werent.
He caught me by surprise, Lucia said with dignity. And his moustache tickled.
Corbett laughed softly and gave her arm another of those strangely intimate little squeezes. Lucia felt the same shiver, and this time knew without a doubt that it was pleasure.
I could have done without that little comment he made about me being-what was it? Oh, yes-a nice, healthy-looking vooman. Vith some meat on her bones. What, exactly, did he mean by that?
Corbetts chuckle now sounded slightly embarrassed-something new for him. That was a compliment. He approves of you, my dear. In fact- now he sounded bemused -they both did. I think-
Whatever it was he thought was never revealed. He stiffened, put one hand to his ear and seemed to come to attention, like a hunting dog on point. His eyes were dagger points, focused straight ahead, though Lucia could see nothing alarming about the handful of people hurrying along the still-damp sidewalk, heads down, shoulders hunched against that nasty little wind.
Lucia, go back to the embassy and wait for me, Corbett said in a quiet voice as he gently untangled his arm from hers.
But I-
Dont argue. Thats an order. Go. Now.
Chapter 2
Lucia went, but with rebellion in her heart, in her soul and in every ounce of her being. Her feet were the traitors; they obeyed his will, not hers. She went, but with every muscle straining against the tug of an irrational yearning to stay at the side of the man she loved and face along with him whatever dangers threatened. She went, but with reluctance in every step, high heels scraping unevenly on the damp sidewalk as she paused and turned every few steps to look back.
And so it was that she saw the events unfold in jerky fast-forward, like an old-time movie.
Corbett relaxed only slightly as he listened to Lucias footsteps retreating back toward the safety of the embassy. He knew she didnt want to go, that shed have stayed and fought side by side with him, if hed allowed it. He felt a peculiar swelling of something he couldnt quite identify. Was it pride or something more complicated?
No time to wonder about it now. Adams voice was muttering in his ear again, calmly and without a hint of excitement.
Yeah, mate, this looks like a live onecant tell what hes carryin. Definitely comin your way, though.
Corbett pressed the button hidden under his tie and replied quietly, Got it. Dont move inwait for my word.
When she glanced back again, Lucia saw a man turn the corner at the end of the next block. A young man, wearing a jacket with a hood. His hands were thrust deep in his pockets and he walked rapidly toward Corbett, not with his head down and hunched against the cold wind, going someplace warm and in a hurry to get there. No-this mans head was up, and even from that distance, she could see that his gaze was fiercely intent. And fixed on Corbett.
In her heart, in her gut, she knew this was wrong. He was wrong.
Oh, God, this is it. Its him.
This was the assassin whod already tried twice to murder Corbett. This time
No. She told herself Corbett had planned for this. That he had backup all over the place. That just because she couldnt see them didnt mean they werent there. She told herself she couldnt go back, that hed be furious with her if she did.
But she did stop walking and stepped into the shadow of the nearest doorway to watch.
She wasnt aware until sometime later that shed also slipped off her high-heeled shoes.
Corbett watched the man in the hooded jacket come toward him. He felt calm, though his heart was thumping like bloody hell. Well, he couldnt help that, could he? Adrenaline was flowing; he felt ready, eager, almost weightless in his anticipation of the battle to come. A smile curved his lips. Not a nice smile.
Lazcome on, mate. Adams voice in his ear had an impatient edge to it now.
The distance between Corbett and the hooded man was closing fast. He touched his tie and murmured, Steady, old mansteady.
Thirty meterstwentyten
Steady
At point-blank range, the man pulled his hands from his pockets. One hand held a gun. Using both hands, he brought the weapon up, aimed it at Corbetts chest and fired.
Lucia heard the sound of the gunshot. She watched him fall.
It was the last thing she saw clearly. The next thing she knew she was running-flying-down the sidewalk toward the two men, knowing as she ran, knowing without seeing, that the assassin was advancing, aiming his weapon at his targets head for the killing shot. Her scream of rage and despair seemed to hang behind her in the Paris twilight like the echoes of a bugles call to arms.
Corbett lay on the cold sidewalk and struggled to breathe. Was his heart still beating? He didnt know, couldnt tell. He thought he was alive. He must be, he could see and hear. But he couldnt move. Couldnt breathe. Was this how death came?
He could hear the scrape of footsteps coming nearer, hesitantlyhis would-be assassin, checking to see whether he was alive. If hes learned anything from his last two attempts, hell put the last shot-the killing shot-between my eyes. If Im not dead already, I soon will be.
Theres no way Adam can get here in time.
This was it, then. His last moment on earth. Corbett closed his eyes and thought of Lucia.
She didnt feel her stocking feet on the sidewalk. She had no idea shed dropped her stole, or that shed hiked her gown to her waist.
Your body is the weapon, Lucia
Her mind was calm, its focus narrowed, locked on her target. All the strength and will of her mind and body compressed into one powerful force.
And she struck.
Its been said no one can swear quite like an Aussie, and in those first few seconds after hearing the gunshot, Adam did his level best to uphold his former countrys reputation. As he was running toward that awful sound he kept swinging back and forth between a strong desire to strangle his best friend and the fear the bloody idiot wasnt going to live long enough to give him the chance.
Why had the bleedin bastard waited so long to give the okay to move in? Had he been waiting for Lucia to get out of harms way? Okay, he could maybe understand that, but now there was no way he or the others could reach Laz before the assassin finished the job-if he hadnt already. If I can get to the blinkin corner, Ill have a clear shot at the blighter, maybe I can wing im, at least. If Laz hadnt given strict orders to take him aliveBloody hell!
Adam rounded the corner with his gun drawn, his heart in his throat and his lungs on fire. What he saw stopped him in his tracks.
To Corbett it was flashes of color, flurries of motion, bodies hurtling through space, meeting, struggling, falling, the violence too insanely hurried to be real.
What he remembered afterward was the sound. A screech of pure animal rage; grunts and sickening smacks and thumps. A scraping, skittering sound. More grunts and gasps, the sounds of men in desperate combat.
No. Not men. One man, and one woman.
Lucia.
It was his worst nightmare. The woman he realized had a very important place in his life was struggling for hers against an armed assassin. His assassin. And he could do nothing. Couldnt move, couldnt even breathe. Could only watch helplessly while the battle played itself out.
Lucias initial attack had the advantage of surprise. Her flying kick slammed into the assassin as he stood over Corbetts body, the gun pointed down at his targets headhesitating, inexplicably, although she didnt recall that until later, and was only unquestioningly grateful for the extra second or two that meant the difference between Corbetts life and the unthinkable. His death.
The kick sent the gunman crashing to the sidewalk. The gun flew from his hand and went spinning across the wet pavement. Lucia dove for it, not noticing nor caring that her bare legs scraped the concrete, or that what was left of her gown barely covered the rest of her. All she knew was a fierce sense of triumph when she felt the shape of the gun in her hands, still warm from the assassins hands.
She managed to twist her body around barely a split second before the man was on her, his full weight pressing her down.