don't know if the good monks might have heard those shots.'
It was almost time to make the break. The gun was by the fir tree several yards down the path. Try to be meek and cooperative. Or maybe not. Make him angry? Anything to distract him.
'Probe and dig? Is that what you call what you did to Joel?'
'It's as good a term as any for one of my favorite pastimes. Of course this time it lacked the icing on the cake.'
'And what was that?'
'Purpose.' His hand was beneath her elbow as he urged her for¬ward. 'That's why having you there made it more tolerable.'
'I don't know what-' She stopped as his meaning hit home with massive force. Her body arched as if he'd struck her spine with a crowbar.
Oh, my God.
Why now? Garrett had said. Why get rid of everyone now? It doesn't make sense.
'I'm not worried; the hammer will come to me.' 'It lacked the icing on the cake… purpose.'
She whirled to face him. 'You have it. You already have the ham¬mer. That's why you think it's time to get rid of everyone who knows about it. You have what you want, and now you want to get rid of the witnesses to keep yourself safe.'
'Do I?' His question was as faintly mocking as his expression.
'You know you do. And you want me to know it, or you wouldn't have been throwing out hints.'
He inclined his head. 'I admit I gave in to temptation. It's frustrating, no one knowing how clever I am. I was tempted to tell you when we were together before, but there was just the faintest chance some¬one would whisk you away from me.'
'You have it.' The monstrous truth was unfolding in horrible waves. Her throat was so tight that she could barely get the words out. 'And you had the hammer for all those days when you were torturing Joel and asking me over and over where it was.'
He nodded. 'Oh yes, from the very first day. When I went back to the museum, I didn't find the hammer with the rest of the tools, but it was in a shack in the back.'
'Why?' The ugliness was totally incomprehensible. 'For God's sake, why?'
'I wasn't ready to make a move. I needed Babin's money to keep pouring into my bank account so that I could build up a reserve. Finding the Tsar's fortune would only be the start. I'd have to set up a system to protect it, launder it, and disappear until I was ready to make my move. As long as Babin thought I was still trying to locate the hammer, then he'd keep funding me. He didn't trust me worth a damn, so I knew I had to make it appear absolutely authentic. I was right; he even came to the mountains to check on me. But he went away convinced.'
On the day that he'd tortured Joel so terribly that she'd had to block it out of her memory. She stared at him in disbelief. 'You're a monster.'
He nodded with satisfaction. 'But monsters control the world. Haven't you noticed?'
The hatred was flaming through her veins. For an instant, she couldn't even see him through the red haze. 'You did that to Joel just to-
'I thought it would upset you to know. Though I don't know why it would make a difference. Why should you care why? It's the act, not the motive, that counts.'
'Yes, it's the act that counts.' She turned and strode down the path. A few more yards, and she'd be even with the fir tree. 'But I be¬lieve that you may have reached your goal in besting Mikhail Zelov. I'm not sure anyone else could ever be that evil and corrupt.' She was right next to the tree. She could see the pile of leaves under which she'd hidden the gun. 'You're beyond belief.'
'You'll believe. It will just take a little more effort on my part. I in¬tend to-'
She dove sideways and grabbed the Glock as she hit the ground. She got off a shot as she rolled behind the tree.
She heard Staunton cursing, then a spray of bullets spiked against the bark of the tree. 'Bitch.'
Her shot hadn't struck him, dammit. She risked a glance.
He wasn't there.
Panic soared through her. Was he in the trees across the path, or had he dived into the brush on this side? She couldn't take a chance. She had to move.
'You're not going to get away,' Staunton said. 'You're foolish to even try.'
He was to her left. She crawled into the shrubbery to her right, rose to a half crouch. 'I don't want to get away. I'm going to kill you, Staunton.'
Bullets plowed into the earth at her feet. Close. Very close. Don't talk to him. Don't give him a target.
She tossed a rock into the bushes across the path and watched the shrubbery torn away by a barrage of bullets.
Where had the shots come from? She looked at the angle of the torn-away bushes. To the north of her.
Maybe. It had been years since she had read those forest signs with her father.
She moved warily, with painstaking care.
A branch broke under her foot, and she dove forward and to the right.
Bullets tore into the spot where she'd stood only seconds before. She scrambled backward and to the left. Okay, this was taking too long, and Staunton was too good. She had to put an end to it.
The oak tree two yards away. There was a branch about fifteen feet above the ground that had a decent leaf cover.
Now no sound at all. No mistakes as she moved toward the tree. Silence and smoothness so as not to disturb the prey. Help me, Daddy.
She paused two yards from the tree, reached down, and grabbed a branch. She took a deep breath and threw the branch at a shrub that was close but not too close to the tree she'd chosen.
Bullets plowed into the shrub seconds after the branch hit.
She cried out as if in pain even as she dove for the trunk of the oak tree. Her heart was pounding as she shinnied with frantic speed up the tree. Dear God, she hoped there weren't birds or squirrels that would be set off by her movements.
'Emily?'
Another few feet and she'd reach the branch. 'Emily? I do hope you're only wounded. I have such fine plans for you.
She wriggled beneath the leaf cover on the limb and drew her gun out of her jacket.
Come and get me, bastard. I'm waiting for you.
'I'll be most displeased if you've forced me to kill you. I've waited such a long time to be with you.' He was moving, circling around through the trees to her left. 'Though I can accept wounds if they're inflicted by me.'
Take shallow breaths. He mustn't even hear me breathe.
She could see a faint trembling of the shrubs several yards away. He was being careful. Probably scanning the area where he'd heard her cry out. Should she take her shot now?
No, the brushes weren't shaking any longer.
Where was he?
'I hear you moving, you little whore.' Staunton moved out of the brush, his gaze on the path. 'How did you get across the path?'
Across the path? She thought in bewilderment.
Then she froze as she heard it, too. Footsteps in the brush across the way. Clumsy footsteps. Who…
A strangled cry.
Her gaze flew back to Staunton. Garrett!
Garrett was behind Staunton his arm around his neck. Staunton's AK-47 had dropped to the ground. But even as she watched, Staunton was reaching for a knife in his belt.
No!
She raised her gun and aimed. Not the head, it was too close to Garrett. The heart or stomach. But what if the bullet went through his body and struck Garrett?
Staunton had the knife out and was plunging it into Garrett's arm.
