Final Target

Chapter Twenty-Four

8:15 P.M.

Travis checked his watch. "Almost time to go." He glanced at the helicopter parked near the hangar of the small airport. "Enough fuel to get us there and to Nice afterward?"

Galen looked at him in surprise. "Of course."

"Just checking."

"Since when do I need to be checked on? Are you a tad nervous?"

"Maybe."

"Natural enough. This isn't your field of expertise. You should really let me go in alone." He paused. "You think he'll be there waiting for us?"

" I'd bet he went straight to Vasaro. It's what I'd do. Get to Vasaro before Andreas arrives with the troops, dig in, and wait. No chance of stumbling on to anyone coming or going from the farm. He's smart enough to figure out that Andreas will seal the perimeter to catch me."

"Then how will he get out? He wouldn't leave a car or helicopter sitting around in the fields."

"He could steal my transportation after he's killed me." He smiled. "Or maybe he thinks he'll fly out of there on the wings of the Wind Dancer after he steals it."

"Where is the statue?"

"I put it in the closet in the back room." He opened the door. "Will you go get it? I'll go start the helicopter."

"Right." Galen went in the back room and opened the closet door. No gleam of gold in the darkness. He turned on the light and glanced up on the top shelf. No statue.

"Son of a bitch."

He ran out of the office, but the helicopter was already lifting off. "What the hell are you doing, you asshole?" he shouted. "You need me."

Travis waved a hand.

Galen was still standing on the tarmac, looking up, when Travis turned south toward Vasaro. Jesus, he was pissed.

Well, Travis couldn't help it. Galen had no stake in this that was worth the risk Vasaro posed. Even if taking out Deschamps turned out to be easier than Travis expected it to be, Andreas would snap him up if he got the chance.

Travis just had to see that he didn't get the chance. Get rid of Deschamps, then take off for Nice and hope Andreas didn't have something lethal to take down the helicopter. If he moved fast, he might get out. Andreas would hesitate if he thought Travis might have the Wind Dancer in the aircraft.

He glanced a t the Wind Dancer on the floor in the back of the helicopter. The statue seemed to stare back at him. The light from the setting sun caused the emerald eyes to glitter with a fierce life of their own. At that moment Travis could see why some people believed the statue had supernatural powers.

He smiled at it. "Sharpen your teeth, my friend. We're going hunting."

Cassie!

Melissa slowly raised her head from the desk. She had no idea which building Travis was going to be in, but Cassie might know. Cassie spent her summers here. She'd helped pick the flowers. She'd probably run wild all over the farm. It was possible…

Let it be possible. Please let it be possible.

She closed her eyes.

Cassie.

The child wouldn't let her in. It took several precious minutes to break down her defenses.

"Cassie, I need you."

"I should be mad at you. Where have you been? You haven't been here all day."

"Your father was here."

"He just came back. Before there was only this…nurse."

"She's very nice." She had no time for this. "Cassie, I need you to help me. I need you to find a place."

"You shouldn't have left me. I've been lonely."

"Cassie."

Silence. "You're scared. You're scared of the monsters."

"Yes." Oh, yes.

Fear. "Coming here?"

"No, I have to go there."

"Because of Michael."

"He's in a house or shed. I don't know where it is. I have to find it. There's a lantern with a copper hood and on a table there are bins."

"What kind of bins?"

"Funny-shaped."

"Show me."

Concentrate on the table. Don't show her Travis dying.

"It's the picking shed in the south field."

Her heart leapt. "You're sure, baby?"

"Of course I'm sure. There's only one like that. Caitlin told me it's been there since the beginning of Vasaro. There was a fire, but it wasn't burned and she-"

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Cassie." She grabbed the map and located an outbuilding in the south field. Damn, at least four miles.

"There's a shortcut. You go through the bunch of trees down the road and over the hill."

"How much time does that take?"

"I don't know. Some."

She couldn't expect the child to be precise. She just hoped her memory was fairly accurate.

Indignation. "There is too a shortcut."

"Sorry." She jumped to her feet. "I have to go. Good-bye, Cassie."

Sudden panic. "Don't want you to go. Stay here. The monsters will get you."

She had to smother her terror. Cassie was seeing too much these days, and she mustn't scare the child. "I'll be fine. We'll all be fine."

"Come back…"

But Melissa was already in the hall. Then she was running out the front door. The men on guard didn't stop her, ignoring her as if she weren't there.

Lord, it was almost dark.

She ran down the road toward the stand of trees.

Danley knocked on Cassie's door and opened it. "The woman's gone, Mr. President. A few minutes ago."

Andreas got to his feet and came into the hall. "What direction?"

"Toward the trees."

"No one interfered with her?"

"You gave us our orders." His lips tightened.

"Though I have to tell you, I disapprove of the entire situation."

"I know you do. You like everything neat, and this is much too uncontrolled for you. Don't worry, Melissa Riley's chance of finding the shed is extremely slim. Even if she does, it should all be over by that time."

"It's not efficient. You should have let us go in and get the bastards."

"Stay out of it. Your job is to make sure my daughter is safe. Period."

"And the woman?"

"I warned her. She's on her own." Andreas turned and opened the door." Let me know when you hear something."

He sat down in the chair beside Cassie's bed again and took her hand. Damn Melissa Riley. She'd be lucky if she didn't get herself killed. Why couldn't she have resigned herself to looking out for her own neck instead of worrying about Michael Travis? She was emotional and unreasonable and thought you could spin the earth on its axis if you cared enough.

And very much like his Chelsea. The thought popped out of nowhere into his head. He could see his wife doing exactly what Melissa was doing under the same circumstances. He'd been having the devil of a time keeping Chelsea from flying out here since he'd told her they had a good chance of getting Cassie back. She would have-

Cassie was squeezing his hand.

He went rigid. His gaze flew to her face. "Cassie?" Her eyes were closed and her body was stiff, arched as if she were in pain. Her grasp was tightening until it was like a vise.

"Cassie, talk to me," he said unevenly. "Let me help you. Please."

Melissa tore through the stand of trees and up the hill.

Go faster.

She slipped and caught herself before she fell.

She heard something. The throb of an engine. A helicopter? Travis?

Jesus, she hoped not.

She was going down the hill on the other side. Lord, she hoped she was headed in the right direction. What if Cassie hadn't remembered correctly? She was only a little girl.

And maybe there was more than one picking shed that had survived the years.

No second thoughts. It was too late now.

The sound of the helicopter had stopped.

Another hill. Was the shed on the other side?

Her lungs hurt and her breath was coming in gasps.

Keep going.

She stumbled. It was fully dark now and hard to see the ground in front of her. She reached the top of the hill.

Nothing. Only another valley and the next hill.

Go on. Don't give up.

But hurry. She had to hurry.

Travis falling, dying…

Cassie screamed..

Andreas jumped. Another nightmare?

She bolted upright. "Michael!"

For the first time, Andreas noticed her eyes were open. "Oh, my God." He snatched her into his arms, tears pouring down his cheeks. "Sweetheart, you've come back to us. I'm so-"

"Michael." Her arms tightened around Andreas. "Daddy, the monsters. Blood. They're killing Michael."

"Shh." Andreas pressed a kiss to her forehead and rocked her. "Everything's going to be okay. Everything's okay now."

"No." She was sobbing. "It's like before. The monsters-and you weren't here."

" I'm here now."

" It's happening again."

"No, you're safe. We're all safe."

"No, it's not true." Her eyes widened in terror. "Michael!"

Travis had landed.

Deschamps faded closer to the bushes beside the shed, his gaze on the helicopter several yards away.

The anticipation was a twisting hunger within him. It had been too long. Come out. Let me see it. Let me see what's mine.

There was no moon tonight, and in the darkness he could barely discern the shadowy figure of Travis at the controls. Why wouldn't he get out? Then he realized Travis was just being cautious. He'd be vulnerable as he got out of the helicopter; that was why Deschamps was waiting for the pilot's door to open.

Maybe Travis was sensing something wrong.

So he'd have to be very still until Travis felt safe.

Minutes passed.

Why wasn't the bastard moving?

He edged closer and then closer still.

He was almost at the aircraft when he stopped short. The figure wasn't Travis. It was a jacket wrapped around a dummy. The passenger door stood open.

Travis was out!

"Shit." Deschamps dove for the ground. Travis could be anywhere.

A flickering light suddenly beamed from the shed. The door was open…

Melissa saw the light in the shed as she crested the hill. The silhouette of a helicopter was visible nearby.

It was already happening.

She was sobbing as she tore down the hill. Wait for me. Don't let me get this far and not be able to help.

The door was open. Deschamps might be just inside.

Screw him. If she delayed for even a moment, it might be the end for Travis.

She stood in the doorway, her gaze frantically searching the cavernous shadows for Travis.

She saw Deschamps first at the far end of the room. He was moving, stalking, staring at something in the shadows. Travis?

No, Travis was rolling from under the table, gun in hand, rising silently to his feet. His concentration was fixed on Deschamps, who had his back turned to him.

She held her breath. Do it. Shoot him. Don't let him turn around.

No?

Travis was turning his head. She hadn't made a motion, but he must have caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. His eyes widened as he recognized her.

And Deschamps was turning around!

The next few seconds seemed to pass in slow motion as Melissa tore the short distance across the room. She launched herself at Travis, her arms encircling his waist as she pulled him down.

Too late.

She heard him grunt and felt the jerk of his body as the bullets hit him.

She'd failed, she realized in agony. Deschamps had killed him.

They hit the floor. Wood splintered next to her cheek as Deschamps got off another shot and hit the lantern on the post. The lantern fell and the candle snuffed out.

Darkness.

Travis's gun was beside him. She fumbled for it and rolled under the table. She knocked over a chair and pulled it close as a shield,

"You can't get away," Deschamps called. "I've killed Travis. Who's going to protect you now?"

Her eyes stung with tears as she looked at Travis on the other side of the table.

"You're afraid, aren't you? I might let you go if you give up right now."

"Screw you." Jesus, how could she see to shoot him when it was pitch black?

"You can't stop me. Do you know how long I've waited for that statue?"

Another shot. A hot stinging as the bullet ricocheted off the chair and grazed her left arm.

"Give up. You don't have a weapon, or you would have used it already. I'm getting impatient. I don't have much time before Andreas gets here."

"Andreas isn't coming. He never intended to come. It was all a trick. So that makes you pretty stupid, doesn't it?"

"You're lying. I checked out the area for miles around. Only the main house is guarded."

"I'm not lying. It was a setup. Even if you kill me, Andreas will scoop you up before you get ten miles from Vasaro." A bullet whistled by her ear. He was aiming at the sound of her voice just as she was trying to gauge where he was. "Why are you wasting time? Get out of here and make a run for it."

"I won't have to make a run for it. I'll take the helicopter Travis arrived in…after I get the Wind Dancer."

The Wind Dancer. She could see the gleam of gold on the table above her. Would it lure him close enough for her to get a shot at him? Or would one of his bullets strike her first?

Another shot. Very close.

She gasped and then gave a low cry.

Deschamps grunted with satisfaction. "All right. You've gotten in my way for the last time." Silence. "Did it hurt? I hurt your sister, didn't I? I saw the blood spurting out of her before I ran out." He stopped, listening.

He was testing her, hoping she'd break if the bullet hadn't hit her.

"I was hoping to be able to take my time killing Travis. I admit I'm disappointed. I wanted to see him hurt. I haven't felt this much hatred for anyone since I killed my charming stepfather."

Bastard.

"Did you see him bleed when the bullets hit? There are legends about the Wind Dancer having a fondness for blood. Wars…the guillotine…Do you think there's anything to those tales?"

She didn't respond. Come on, you son of a bitch. Let me see you.

"You really shouldn't have involved yourself. You're not clever enough. It was pitifully easy fooling you at St. Ives."

He was stirring, moving.

Yesl

She could sense him on the other side of the room. Come closer. See the pretty statue. Come and get it.

He was coming. Very cautiously; but he was coming.

Her hand tightened on the gun.

Another shot.

A hot, deep pain in her upper thigh.

Don't scream. Don't move. He had to think she was no threat.

"I heard that bullet hit home. There's nothing that sounds quite like that soft thud. You're either a Spartan or you're unconscious or dead. I wonder which it is. I'll make sure as soon as I get the Wind Dancer." He was closer, though not close enough. She couldn't move quickly and she'd have only one chance. "My God, what a thing of beauty it is. I can see those eyes glittering at me in the darkness. It's almost enough to make a man believe all the stories about it."

Shock surged through her as sudden light illuminated the room. He'd relit the lantern. Christ, he was only a few feet away! She froze and held her breath. Her hand tightened on the gun half hidden beneath her body.

But he gave her only a glance, his attention focused on the statue with total fascination. "Alexander, Charlemagne, the Borgias," he whispered as he gathered the statue in his arms. "And Edward Deschamps. It has a splendid ring, doesn't-Shit!" He clutched the statue as he fell to the floor. "What the-"

Travis had his arms wrapped around Deschamps's ankles and yanked the legs out from under him. There was blood everywhere. Travis's blood. On Travis, on Deschamps. But, sweet Jesus, Travis was still alive!

Deschamps recovered immediately. His gun swung to point at Travis.

"No!" The thirty-eight exploded in Melissa's hand.

One shot.

Two.

Three.

Deschamps jerked as each bullet entered his body. Blood poured from the wounds in his stomach.

He looked down in disbelief.

She fired again and he dropped the gun. " Bitch." Tears ran down his face. He clutched the Wind Dancer with his bloody hands and crawled toward the door. "Doesn't matter. You still won't win. I've got it. That's all that's important. I've got it…"

And he might still get to the helicopter and get away. She didn't know how he was managing to even move. Yes, she did. He was obsessed and Jessica had told her fanatics sometimes seemed to draw on superhuman stores of endurance and strength.

Jessica.

No way was he going to get to the helicopter.

She shot him in the head.