“I would suspect they will be putting in at Calais as it is the closest point on the French side. I’ll have men waiting to take them out there. As for this Christian Watson fellow and the group traveling with him, I’ll ring up Morrison’s driver myself. Once I know the location of the rest of the group, I’ll send your backup to deal with them.”
Steven had never doubted Spider could right his own ship. The man gave new meaning to the wordresourceful.
“I thank you for your service this day, Steven,” Spider added, but Steven didn’t want thanks. He wanted bloodyassurances.
“Sir?” His voice was a bare whisper. “Please, my mum?”
“Will finish her days in the luxury she’s grown accustomed to,” Spider said, and Steven nearly fainted with relief. Or blood loss. Probably both. “Like I said, you did well today. I reward my loyal employees.”
“Thank you, sir,” he managed, though his mouth had filled with blood. The iron-rich smell assaulted his nose. He hadn’t the strength to spit it out, instead letting it slip unheeded from the corners of his mouth.
“You’re welcome, Steven. Now, be a smart chap and toss your mobile and your weapon into the Channel before you go. Best not to leave more evidence behind than necessary. Good-bye.”
The line went dead, and the last of Steven’s strength left him. He dropped the phone and his gun to the pier. It took him forever to nudge them over the edge but somehow, eventually, he accomplished it.
With his final task for Spider complete, he surrendered to gravity and toppled onto his side. The pain was less now. Which he knew meant his time was short. He wished he could still see. He would have liked to gaze one last time at the stars above. But he satisfied himself with visualizing his mother’s beloved face.
As he lay struggling to breathe, feeling his heartbeat go thready, he tried not to think of her coming heartbreak and disappointment. He had always been her little hero. Her good boy. But sometimes, due to circumstances beyond their control, even good boys turned into bad men.
He wasa bad man. He could admit as much to himself. But it hadn’t always been so. Once upon a time, he had been one of the good guys, fighting to bring the criminals of the world, men like Spider and Morrison, to justice.
He wondered if a lifetime of doing right had been obliterated by the last three years when he’d done nothing but wrong in the almighty name of Spider.
Whatisthe measure of a man?
He would never know. Because with that thought, his heart ceased to beat, his laboring lungs ceased to draw breath, and Steven Surry, once an honorable and decorated member of Her Majesty’s Special Air Service, died.
Chapter 42
“I regret the tight squeeze,” Gautier said from his place in the front of the sub. The pilot’s seat appeared to be little more than a legless beach chair. And the only lights inside the vessel came from the control panel, which Gautier watched with eagle-eye scrutiny. “Better to lie down,oui? More room this way.”
Chelsea’s limbs shook uncontrollably. She wasn’t sure if it was from fear or cold.
The jump into the icy Channel had nearly knocked her unconscious. It didn’t seem possible thatwatercould be that hard. Had it not been for Dagan, the collision with the surface, combined with the shock of the cold and the weight of her pack, might have been enough to do her in. She had been in the process of attempting a few feeble kicks when he had gotten an arm around her and dragged her to the surface. A second later, before she even had time to catch her breath, he had boosted her aboard the sub.
Now they both sat hunched in Gautier’s vessel. The space was barely three feet high and not much wider. But it was at least nine feet long, tip to tail. So that was good. And the floor seemed to have a bit of padding thanks to a series of… What were those? Rubber yoga mats?
It was difficult to see in the dusky interior and…
Shit.She realized she had lost her glasses in the jump. Luckily, she kept an extra pair in her bag. Unzipping the front pocket, she fished out her spare glasses case, surprised to find it mostly dry, and slid on the frames.
Blinking the space into focus, she realized itwasyoga mats lining the floor. They had been stitched together and fitted against the dark hull. Even though there was little light to see by, it was still enough to show the whole vessel looked like it’d been built by someone using the wrong end of a hammer. She instantly regretted donning her glasses.
“Good Lord have mercy,” she muttered beneath her breath.
“Let’s take Gautier’s advice and get comfy.” Dagan shrugged out of his backpack. “It’s going to be a long ride.” Twisting around, he got his feet pointed toward the back of the sub and stretched out, using his soggy pack as a pillow. “Come on, babe.” He beckoned with his fingers. “Come down here with me. We’ll share body heat and warm up. You’re shaking like a leaf.”
Right. But the question remained…from fear or from cold?
If it was fear, it had nothing to do with the residual effects of the jump. Or the terror of being underwater in a submersible that looked like it’d been pieced together with Elmer’s Glue and Popsicle sticks. Oh no. If she was shaking from fear, it was because the time had finally come to reveal the Big Bad Secret.
On the walk to the pier, she had promised herself she would use the trek across the Channel to finally come clean. And even when she and Dagan had been running for their lives, her mind had kept coming back to the inevitably of that.Like a dog to its own vomit, as her dad would have said.
Here goes, she thought, wiggling out of her backpack and setting it beside Dagan’s. Maneuvering herself around in the small space was awkward, but she managed it. She pressed her head against her pack and was surprised when the first words out of her mouth weren’t the truth. Instead they were, “Do you think he’s dead?”
“Who?” Dagan pulled her close. She allowed it because she was absolutely freezing and he was so very warm. Soon enough, he might turn his back on her, but for now she’d memorize every detail of what it was to be held in his arms.
The smell of the soap on his skin tantalized when she ducked her head under his chin, her shivering lips pressed close to the hot, beating pulse in his neck. “Surry. Is he dead?”
