All he knew was he had to get away from her before he said or did something that was going to embarrass the hell out of both of them.
He found Corbett in a curtained cubicle, hooked up to a monitor of some sort and looking none too happy about it.
Thank God, he growled when he saw Adam. I was about to abandon all hope of rescue. Help me up, will you?
Adam was about to question the wisdom of that move but changed his mind when he saw the look on Corbetts face and instead simply offered his arm.
Corbett gripped it hard, gritted his teeth and got himself hoisted up into a sitting position and turned with his legs hanging over the side of the gurney. I dont know why they insist on all this- he waved a hand at the wires attached to his arms and chest -for some broken ribs and one hell of a bruise. It doesnt require a medical degree to tell me Im going to be damn sore for a while.
Yeah, you are. So you sure you want to be doing whatever it is youre about to do?
Look, Im going to hurt no matter where I am. Id just as well do it at home. At least there I can- He broke off, swearing under his breath, to glower at Adam. Fill me in. Hows Lucia? Is she-
Shes fine-a bit shaky, but shell be okay. Shes here, by the way-out there in the waiting room. Worried sick about the shooter, if you can believe it. Worried shes killed him. Thinks youre gonna be cranky with her if she did.
Corbett jerked and managed to whisper, Good Lord, through the resulting hiss of pain.
Yeah, Adam said, refraining from any comment that could be construed as sympathy. I told her it was him or her-not too much she coulda done but what she did.
Corbetts mouth tightened and his eyes got the stony look Adam knew all too well. Whats his condition?
They wont tell me much, given Im not family. All theyll say is, hes in surgery. Im thinkin its probably too soon to tell if hes gonna make it.
Damn. Bloody mess Corbett lifted a hand to scrub at his face. Finding himself still tethered to the monitor, he tore the wires from his arm and chest in a rare fit of temper. We should have had transport there on the spot, dammit. We should have gotten him out of there before-did we at least get an ID? Do we know who the bastard is?
Adam cleared his throat. Hed had happier moments facing a dentists drill. Sorry, boss. Didnt have time to go through his pockets. Lucia had her hands full just tryin to stop the blood. If theyve IDd him- He broke off, swearing, as his words were drowned out by sounds of a commotion of some sort drifting in from beyond the curtain. What the bloody hell-
The voice, now risen to clearly audible levels, was French accented, harsh and strident, almost as deep as a mans but somehow unmistakably female. It bulldozed right over the attendants murmured response. I want to see him. Now! Hes here-I know hes here!
Whoa, someones not a happy camper. Adam tweaked aside the curtain to have a look, but the speakers werent visible from where he stood. He threw a glance over his shoulder. Maybe I should go- He broke off, due to the fact that the man he was speaking to appeared about to take a header off the gurney.
Laz? Here, mate, what- He managed to get to him just before he toppled over, while out in the lobby the woman, whoever she was, ranted on.
Tell me how he is, damn you! Dont tell me you cannot! I am telling you, I am his family. I am his mother!
Are you all right, man? Crikey, youve gone as white as a sheet. Here-lie down. Bloody hell, Adam thought. If it was his heart after allIll get the nurse.
Helpme up, dammit. Got to see Corbetts grip on Adams arm would have done a croc proud.
I know that voice.
It couldnt be. Just wasnt possible. But there was no mistaking it, even after almost twenty years. Corbett could hear its echoes resounding through the halls of the emergency wing, strident, raw, crackling with emotion.
Her voice.
You will pay for this, Corbett Lazlo! Everything you care about, whatever means the most to you, I will destroy. If it takes the rest of my life, I swear I willmakeyoupay!
He told himself it wasnt her, but he had to see with his own eyes.
With one arm across Adams shoulders and the other across his ribs, he managed to stand erect. Dark splotches were floating through his field of vision. He shook his head to clear itconcentrated on breathing deeply. Evenly. Relaxtensing up only makes the pain worse.
Bloody hell. Hed never felt so feeble and woozy. Somewhere in the distance he could hear Adam swearing at him, but he couldnt spare the energy it would take to tell him to can it. He needed every ounce of strength just to take those first steps.
Out in the emergency entrance, the womans voice had quieted to a raspy, throaty sound, like a lioness purring. And Corbett remembered that one, too, as clearly as if it had been yesterday
Murmuring words of love to me in a tangle of sweaty sheets on a stolen afternoon in the hot little room in MontmarteSaying my name in a way no one else ever has, before or since, giving it the French pronunciation: Cor-bay
Speaking of betrayal, as we sat together on a rooftop in London, watching the fog swirl around the chimney pots, with that particular intensity in her voice and in her eyes, that hint of violence and danger that made me wonder sometimes whether she was not quite sane. I give you fair warning, mon cher. I love with passion and I hate the same way. Do not ever make me hate you
Hed been young then, and had laughed off both of them-the words of love and the warnings-and hed known in his heart it was the danger that made her so irresistible.
Just as he knew in his heart now that it was not only possible, it was true. The voice was hers. He knew it even before he heard the words that erased all possibility of doubt.
Yes, that is right. I am Cassandra DuMont. His name is Troy DuMont. He is my son. Now will you tell me whereYes, yes, I understand he is in surgery
Corbett didnt hear the rest. The initial shock of hearing her voice, recognizing it, had blocked the significance of her words from registering on his consciousness. Now, as he pushed through the double automatic doors into the triage area, he found himself face-to-face with the woman hed tried so hard to expunge from his memory. Hed even thought hed succeeded. Hoped he had. Now he knew how foolish hed been to even try. Knew he should have paid more attention to the things shed said to him, both the love words and the warnings.
Because suddenly, as if a curtain had been torn down, he saw everything clearly. All at once he knew. All the months of watching mission after mission end in near disaster, of trying to track down moles and trace vicious threats delivered via e-mail, of seeing his agents picked off one by one-even that mess years ago that had gotten him branded a traitor and booted out of British SIS, and would have seen him locked up in prison for the rest of his life-he knew who was responsible for it all.
Cassandra.
And there was worse than that. Much, much worse than he could ever have imagined.
Cassandra.
And there was worse than that. Much, much worse than he could ever have imagined.
Hes my son!
Cassandra DuMont had a son. A son who had tried three times to kill him and, but for Lucia and a state-of-the-art Kevlar vest, would have succeeded. A son now fighting for his life only a few floors away. A son who appeared to be at least nineteen or twenty-certainly no younger. And that could only mean
Hes my son.
Corbett stood frozen while the doors to the E.R. area swished shut behind him, still dazed, caught in a nightmarish web of shock and disbelief. And it was in that moment that she turned and saw him.
It was odd, but with everything that had come crashing down on him in the past few minutes, his brain still managed to register the fact that she was beautiful. Odd, too, that he could notice how much she had changed, and yet was so much the same. The same tall, voluptuous body, the same golden curls, the same big-slightly protuberant-blue eyes. But the years and the thirst for vengeance had taken their toll, too, and in that instant just before she recognized him, he felt a flash of sorrow for the loss of the passionate but somehow naive young girl he had known.
You! She shrieked the word and lunged at him, as if she meant to kill him on the spot, with only her bare hands. Adam managed to intercept her before she could reach him, and she stared wild-eyed past the restraining barricade of his arm like a crazed animal through the bars of a cage. You did this, Corbett Lazlo! You shot him-just like you shot my brother. If youve killed him, too
Here, now, Adam said, panting a little as he tightened his hold on her increasing struggles, I think youve got things a bit backward, havent you? Your boy was the one doin the shooting. Tried his best to kill Mr. Lazlo, here.
Yes! She hissed it like an enraged cat. And should have, if hed only waited for the right moment, as I taught him. If hed had more patience. Her mouth stretched in a terrible travesty of a smile. He would have killed you, Cor-bey-his own father. Yes, that is right. As you have already guessed, the man you shot is your own son! Her voice broke, before it erupted in a shrill crescendo. If you have killed him, I will make you wish hed killed you instead. I will make you pay-
Behind Corbett the door whooshed open. In the sudden silence, a voice spoke calmlyquietly. Another voice he knew well.
Madam DuMont, Corbett didnt shoot your son, Lucia said. I did.
Chapter 3
Corbett felt himself go cold from his scalp to the pit of his stomach. There was a moment when he was literally frozen in place, unable to move, unable to think. Unable even to decide how to feel. On the one hand, he could have throttled Lucia himself if it could have prevented her from uttering those words-words that amounted to her death warrant.
But then againwhat was this strange shimmering, vibrating warmth now beginning deep inside his chest and spreading slowly through him? Was it admiration?
Because, by God, he had to admit she was magnificent. She put him in mind of an avenging goddess, wrapped in an EMTs blanket, barefooted, the torn remnants of her golden gown swirling around her scraped and dirty legs, red-brown curls gone wild as if they had life and energy of their own.
Or was it something else that made his heart quiver so oddly? Something else entirely-perhaps the fear in her deep blue eyes contrasting so poignantly with the determined set of her mouth and the smudges of dried blood on her smooth, soft cheeks