A Brilliant Deception (34 page)

E
verything went into slow motion as Atworthy pushed DISCONNECT on his phone. I turned, desperate to alert everyone. I had to get out of this alcove, into view, where I could scream a warning. There was nothing left to lose.

But the moment I took a step and opened my mouth, I found myself tightly wrapped and gagged by the enormous arms and hands of one of Atworthy’s men who had been standing beside the alcove.

Applause for the PM’s speech drowned out my muffled shouts. Nobody noticed the scuffle because we were so snugly tucked away. All eyes were looking in the opposite direction, up toward the podium.

I could only watch, helplessly, eyes wide. And then, there was a zinging sound as a bullet ripped into the banner above the prime minister’s head, shredding it into two pieces.

It had worked.
My manipulation of the sniper’s sight had worked. For a suspended second, the world was frozen. Then chaos erupted as the crowd realized what had just happened.

The Secret Service team instantly fell upon the PM to protect him. People screamed and scrambled for the exits. And then, at the edges of the crowd, I saw Reilly moving toward the prime minister. I struggled against my captor, and found my defense moves anticipated. I could only watch.

Within the maelstrom, Reilly withdrew his gun smoothly and took aim. It was a suicide mission, but he looked cold as a glacier. My heart thundered.

He pulled the trigger and . . . nothing.

Reilly blinked. Removing the firing pin had done the trick. He had no way of knowing what I’d done. He tried once more, to no effect.

I turned to see Atworthy’s face contorted with rage and frustration. His carefully executed plan, even his backup plan, was crumbling to pieces. I wanted to smile triumphantly, but the fact was, I was still in extreme danger.

Atworthy pressed a gun to my spine.

I turned back as Reilly lunged for the edge of the terrace, only a few feet from us. I knew what he was going to do. In another heartbeat, he leaped straight over the side. His BASE chute opened instantly, from under his jacket, and he sailed down.

I craned my neck over the edge of the patio. When Reilly was halfway down, the cars parked on both sides of the street suddenly flared with lights and sirens, and several officers leaped to position. All they had to do was wait for Reilly to drop right into their arms.

I smiled. So they’d taken my anonymous tip seriously.

Atworthy looked like his head might explode. But there was also a small tinge of fear in his eyes now. This was very bad news for me; desperate people were the most dangerous of all.

He yanked my wrists together in front of my body and cinched a zip cord around them. He flopped a coat over them, concealing the ties. It was subtle enough that nobody would comment, at least for the first minute or so. But I wouldn’t be here that long. “Say a word and I will shoot you without a second thought,” he hissed in my ear.

I might have been able to neutralize the weapons of two of his team members, but I hadn’t done a thing to Atworthy’s gun. It was a fully functioning weapon and I had no doubt he would hold to his word.

He hustled me, alone, away from the party and down the service elevator. My mind raced—what could I do? He was more than my physical match. He was a trained assassin. I had no chance against him.

The prime minister was safe from assassination tonight. But I wasn’t.

Atworthy pushed me out a side door and we slipped out onto street level, unseen in the turmoil.

 

I had no idea where Atworthy was taking me. If this were anyone else, I might have been able to execute an escape maneuver. Plus, there was the zip cord around my wrists—a very tricky thing to remove.

I thought about screaming for help, creating a scene. But I was fairly certain he would shoot, just as he said. You can stall in certain situations by creating a diversion, but not with a stone-cold killer. Besides, I was of minimal use to him now. There was no choice but to go along with him . . . for now.

He barked an order into his phone. “I need an extraction, now.” He listened to the instructions, then disconnected.

He marched me down the brightly lit streets, blending into the busy Manhattan sidewalk crowds. If I was going to attempt an escape, I’d have to choose my moment carefully. Then I realized where we were headed: in a straight line toward Central Park.

Oh God
. I couldn’t let myself get taken into the park. It would be all over if that happened.

Then I saw my salvation. Hendrickx pulled up in a car. He was alone.

He spotted us immediately. His eyes flicked down to my wrists, noting their awkward angle, the coat covering them, Atworthy standing too close. Hendrickx might be many things—cold fish, son of a bitch, heartless bastard—but he was not stupid.

I saw the realization of truth kindle in his eyes. I could tell he knew what side I was on in that instant.

I felt a flutter in my chest. My life was about to be saved by the most unexpected person I could think of.

“Atworthy,” Hendrickx said flatly, “stop right there.”

We were half a block from the park’s entrance, on the corner of the hotel block. There were no other agents or officers with him—thanks to my tip, everyone was around on the opposite side to retrieve Reilly. Atworthy positioned me between himself and Hendrickx. Smart. Signaling my hostage status to the Interpol officer so he wouldn’t shoot.

This was my last chance. Together with Hendrickx, we could take Atworthy down. A blast of adrenaline shot to my muscles. I was ready. I could throw myself off balance, bring him down with me, and Hendrickx could cuff him—

What I didn’t count on was Atworthy simply lifting his hand and firing a bullet into Hendrickx’s chest, point-blank. Hendrickx fell.

In the next instant Atworthy was dragging me away from the scene, forcing me to run with him straight into the park.

A
tworthy had me in an unbreakable hold as we raced through the park entrance. My head spun with disbelief. The image of Hendrickx falling, dead in the street, flashed horribly in my mind.

Atworthy pushed me forward with an economy of movement. He obviously knew my strengths and weaknesses. Hell, he’d practically trained me. He’d taught me how to get out of most sticky situations. This situation—one-on-one with your physical better, who also possessed the only weapon and had your hands bound—I knew was virtually impossible to get out of.

It was over.

“What are you going to do, Atworthy?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as we moved farther into the darkness of the park.

He flicked a glance at me. “You know I can’t let you walk around, Catherine. I can’t let you go free.”

I had served my usefulness to him. I heard the faint chopping sound of helicopter blades in the distance. This must be his extraction.

We arrived at a deserted clearing among the trees, beside a small concrete pavilion. A dry breeze rustled the leaves. He pushed me down on a park bench and tied a second zip cord around my ankle, securing me to the leg of the bench. He stood two paces back and aimed his gun at me, waiting for the helicopter. The distance was smart. I could no longer do anything to him.

I had been the hostage, but I had no further purpose. This was the place where Atworthy would kill me.

“Atworthy, you don’t have to do this,” I said, breathing heavily. I cast around our immediate surroundings for anything that might help. The concrete pavilion held a steel door labeled:
Service Access. Authorized Entry Only. Tunnel No. 3.

“I do, in fact,” he said. “It’s a shame because you would have been a great asset to our cause. But I can see, now, that you would never have joined our side. You believe yourself to be a thief with ethics.”

“I don’t just
believe
it, Atworthy.”

He laughed without humor. “And there’s your error. You don’t realize that when it comes right down to it, you’re nothing but a common criminal. Doing people’s dirty work for them. Replaceable.”

I tried to ignore his words, tried to focus on getting out of this. I had only minutes. He wouldn’t risk being caught by shooting me before the helicopter arrived, but the moment it was here . . .

Then, there was a voice in my ear. The earpiece I had put in there, that I had been using to communicate with Reilly—suddenly I heard a very familiar voice coming through it.

“We’re coming, Cat,” Jack said urgently. “We’re on the ground. We’ll be there in a minute. Keep him there
.
”

I said nothing, concentrating on keeping my face unreadable.
Where are they?

“We have the park surrounded, and we’re closing in on your exact location,” Jack said, reading my mind. “We have a beacon on you, but not Atworthy. Whatever you do, don’t let him bolt into the tunnel.”

I flicked a glance at the door that led to Tunnel Number 3. I knew it was the water tunnel, the mega engineering project that criscrossed underneath Manhattan. If he bolted down the stairs, they would lose him.

The chopper, his escape, was approaching, but it was far enough away to buy us that precious minute. Would Jack and his team get here before Atworthy shot me?

Then I watched Atworthy’s face change. He indicated my ear with a flick of his gun barrel and an even more terrifying level of anger. “What are they saying?” he said, biting off his words in a low, cold voice.

He’d realized they were speaking to me. He’d heard the buzz through the earpiece, or he’d read it on my face, maybe. He was, and always had been, a step ahead of me.

He glanced around for escape options and then squinted up into the sky. Did he know the helicopter was still too far away? I had to keep him from fleeing through the tunnel. It all came down to me. But if I told him they were approaching through the tunnel he wouldn’t believe me. He’d think I was bluffing.

And then, in a blast of clarity, I knew what to do. I would tell him the truth.

I lifted my chin. “They’ve got the park surrounded. They’re going to get here before the helicopter does. Your only escape is down that staircase into the tunnels.”

I held my breath as my heart beat furiously against my rib cage. Atworthy had always had the upper hand because he’d lied and deceived and tricked. We were both part of the criminal world, and in that world, nobody ever told the truth.

Atworthy narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure they said that. How stupid do you think I am? Let me guess—they’re approaching through the tunnel. They’re waiting for me to go down there this very minute. Am I right?”

“No. You’re wrong. Your only escape is through the tunnel.”

He let out a bark of a laugh.

Part of me wanted him to go, to flee, to get away from me. The longer he stayed there, the more likely he would shoot me after all. The stronger part of me stayed firm. I had to keep him there.

“Fine. Don’t believe me.”

“I don’t. Face it, Catherine, you’re a crook. Just like me. No better. You will always be a filthy liar. I’m not falling into your trap.”

I swallowed. It was working. But how much longer would it take before Jack arrived?

“Unfortunately, it also means your time is up,” he said. He leveled his gun at my chest. And without any further hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

At that exact moment, Jack plowed into him, a football tackle. I felt a searing, ripping pain in my left shoulder and I fell off the bench, my ankle still tethered.

Through the fog of the pain, I could see uniformed officers—FBI, NYPD—surrounding Atworthy. They were handcuffing him. It was over.

I looked down and saw blood blooming out onto the fabric of my gown. I glanced up at Atworthy, to see an expression of utter shock on his face. “You were telling the truth.”

My head was spinning, but I managed to spit out a few words. “The only filthy liar here is you, Atworthy. My hands may not be lily white, but you . . . there isn’t even a
sliver
of goodness in you.”

I had beaten him by refusing to lie. I had defeated Atworthy by turning my back on the habits of my profession. By simply telling the truth.

Jack was at my side then. I glanced at him. “Jack—Atworthy has the Lionheart Ring. He’s wearing it . . .”

And then, everything faded to black.

I
woke up and things came into fuzzy focus. I was in a hospital bed under starched sheets, my head resting on a plastic pillow. I became aware of a dull throbbing in my left shoulder.

I heard something beside the bed and turned to see Jack sitting there.

He gazed at me with extreme concern. “Hey there, sleepyhead. You okay?”

I nodded. “I’m not sure . . . but I think so.”

His face softened. “Cat—you have no idea. I was so worried.”

“I know. I was worried, too.” I licked my lips, trying to get moisture into my mouth. A thousand questions crashed into my consciousness. “Is Atworthy in custody?”

Jack nodded and his face turned grim. “He won’t be going anywhere for a long time.”

“And the helicopter? What happened?” I asked Jack.

“It buggered off, once the pilot saw we had surrounded Atworthy. Cowards.”

“How did you guys know where to find us?”

Jack told me he and Wesley had gone to the Plaza Hotel on the wild goose chase I’d sent them on—I cringed at this—and how he’d called Hendrickx right away after.

“Oh God. Hendrickx,” I said, closing my eyes at the memory.

“He’s okay, Cat. He was wearing a flak jacket.”

Relief flooded around me like a warm bath. I kept listening.

“Hendrickx called the troops—Interpol and FBI and even the NYPD. They had already taken care of Reilly—thanks to your anonymous tip. And then they realized that Atworthy had you. They were able to track you because you were still carrying the phone you’d used to send the tips.”

I nodded. Everything had worked out. From that end of things, anyway.

“Do you know anything about Templeton—is he okay?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t heard a word yet. But it’s still early. It’s barely morning.”

I fidgeted with the bedsheets and tried to put Templeton out of my mind. There was nothing I could do until I heard from Ethan.

“Cat . . . I noticed you’re not wearing the ring I gave you.”

I looked down at my hand and then up at him. Truth was, I had never really put it on. I could have given him an excuse about being on the job, not being able to wear an identifying ring . . .

But I didn’t say any of those things. Because they weren’t the real reason I wasn’t wearing his ring. Still, I struggled in the face of his question.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to explain.”

He held my gaze. A lesser man might have looked away. But not Jack.

“Cat, you know I love you. More than I ever thought possible. And—I wish . . . I wish you could be mine. Forever. But it’s just not meant to be.”

“Jack—I—” My voice caught in my throat. I wasn’t ready for this conversation.

“Cat, you know what I’m saying. We’ve had a wonderful history together. Unforgettable, really.” He smiled here, but there was deep sadness in his eyes. “But—well, I saw your face when I was talking about our future, when I was talking about having a family, and settling down. Maybe that kind of future is in the cards for you, and maybe it’s not. But I can see we’re not headed there together. There’s so much that’s right between us. But there’s a lot that isn’t.”

I couldn’t make any words come out of my mouth.

“I know there’s a lot between you and Ethan. It’s undeniable, anyone can see it. And the fact is, as much as I can’t believe I’m admitting this, I think he’s your best chance at lifelong happiness. He can give you what you need.” His voice caught on these words.

A lump formed in my throat.

“So I’m letting you go, Cat. I’m letting you follow your heart. Because as much as I might wish your heart would lead you back to me, I know it won’t. So I’m giving you your freedom, and letting you go.”

My chest ached. We had so much history together, so many memories. But I knew we would only have the past now. It was over between us. And this time, it was forever. “Jack, you know I will always love you.” My voice was ragged.

He smiled again, though it was a sad smile. “I know.” His face grew serious. “I’m going back to the FBI, Cat, and I’m accepting a transfer to Washington, D.C. It’s who I am. You don’t need me, hanging around, making it hard for you to be who you are.”

There was nothing more to say. Jack leaned down and kissed me then, and there was no mistaking it as a good-bye kiss. Tears streamed down my face, turning the kiss to salt.

Jack stood up. His eyes were full of heartache and determination, but as he turned to walk out, I thought I saw in his expression a glimmer of peace.