Hell and Gone

was glistening with fresh scar tissue, pink and raw-looking.

“God,” Hardie muttered. “What—”

“The big C. Runs in the family, sad to say. You can run away from many things in life, but you can’t run away from your genes. Happened a short while ago. I’m still getting used to one of the girls being gone.”

Hardie didn’t know what to say. What could you say? Sorry you lost one, but the other looks great? Mann wasn’t a high-school girlfriend. She was a cold-blooded killer. She had racked up many notches on her gun. She’d tried to kill him.

Then it occurred to him. When did she find the time to, like, survive breast cancer? How long had he been out?

“It’s not all bad,” she continued. “Amazon warrior women used to remove a breast willingly, so their tits wouldn’t get in the way when drawing back an arrow. Mind you, I prefer a gun, but I’m tempted to give archery a shot. Certainly would make for a great cocktail-party story, don’t you think?”

Hardie couldn’t look anymore. Mann rehooked her bra, slid her arms into the blouse, rebuttoned it. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you know that you’re not the only one who’s lost something, Charlie.”

“What do you want?” Hardie said. “Why are you here?”

“They wanted you to see a familiar face. They wanted you to know this is for real.”

“What’s for real?”

Mann smiled. “Your new life.”

“We’re in the vestibule of site seven seven three four,” Mann said. “This is a secret maximum-security facility, known only to an extremely limited number of people in the world. We’re somewhere deep in the earth, in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Even I don’t know where it is.”

“Right.”

“No, I’m serious. They stuck me with the same memory shot they gave you. When I leave, they’re going to give me another shot, and I’ll wake up in a hotel room somewhere else in the world. Hopefully someplace with a spa and excellent room service.”

“They, again, huh?”

Mann leaned forward, raised her eyebrows. “Creepy, isn’t it?”

Unconsciously, Hardie’s trembling left hand went to the crook of his right arm and then he realized what he was searching for. The needle jab. Sure enough, there was a fabric bandage there, and wine-dark bruising around it. Somebody had given him a shot. Somebody had been giving him lots of shots. Sticking him up as though he were a college student trying to make some extra bread over a weekend.

Mann leaned back. “And when I wake up, my bank account will be fatter. I’ll probably go have a cocktail in the hotel bar. I’m not supposed to say anything to anybody, ever, so I’ll raise a silent toast to you, Charlie. Because you’re going to be away a long, long time.”

“So this is my punishment, huh?”

“Punishment?”

“For messing up your big Hollywood murder plans.”

“Oh, that,” Mann said. “Geez, I’d almost forgotten all about that.”

Uh-huh, Hardie thought. You forget all about about losing an eye. Forgive and forget. Turn the other socket.

“This isn’t about punishment, Charlie. It’s simple economics. You cost our employers a great deal of money. So they’re going to put you to work to recoup some of the losses.”

“Our employers?” Hardie said, but already his mind was reeling. Was Mann actually here to recruit him? Have Hardie join their little team of assassins? Good God—no. Hell, no. Put a bullet in his brain right now, be done with it. Or maybe he’d play ball just long enough to get his hands on a gun so that he could finish off Mann here, once and for all.

“You’ll be briefed down below—and let me tell you, the staff is looking forward to meeting with you.”

Now his patience had run out. “I’m not going to work for you. You can forget it.”

“Work for me? Oh, that’s funny, Charlie. Seriously. No, I don’t think you’d be a good fit for my team.”

“Then what’s this about a staff?”

“I think you’re going to find working with them extremely rewarding. I mean, they’re all truly good people. Heroes, really.”

Again, Mann was fucking with him.

“Oh, almost forgot. I have a present for you.”

At long last she opened the long cardboard box on the table. Hardie thought there could be anything in there. A shotgun. Dozen roses. A slender chain saw.

Instead, Mann removed a black cane and gently slid it across the table toward Hardie.

“A little parting gift.”

“You can shove that up your ass,” Hardie replied.

“That’s extraordinarily tempting,” Mann said. “But before I do that, why don’t you try standing up? It’s why I removed the handcuffs, you know.”

Hardie put his palms on the table and stood up. Immediately his right leg gave out and he slammed his ribs into the edge of the table before slipping down even farther. Mann flew forward and caught his head in record time, her hands grabbing his ears. She yanked forward. Hardie struggled to find his footing, but it was as if his right leg weren’t even there. Left arm—useless.

“You’ve suffered some pretty serious neurological damage,” Mann said, her breath hot in his face. “Your leg probably won’t work all that well for the rest of your life.”

“Bite me.”

Mann bared her teeth. “You saying you don’t want the job? Because it doesn’t matter to me. In fact, it would thrill me if you spit in my face and tell me you don’t want this job.”

Hardie obliged her, launching a wad of saliva that struck her cheek and began a lazy roll down her face.

“I don’t want the job,” he said.

Mann reached out her tongue and slowly licked the spittle from her face, as if savoring it.

“Wonder if Kendra will spit in my face, too, when I show up in her bedroom tonight. Maybe I’ll force her to lick my face, ask her if she tastes her dead husband. Think she’d like that?”

Before Hardie could reply, Mann let go, and Hardie’s own body weight pulled him down fast, the edge of the table slamming into his jaw. Vision went white for a second. The pain like a firecracker in his skull. He spun, landed facedown. Mann was over the table and straddling him as he struggled to roll over. Again, she leaned in close.

“Nothing would make me happier than to kill you, then go kill your family. Because you’re right, Charlie. No such thing as ancient history.”

“You so much as even look at my wife or son I’ll—”

Mann grabbed Hardie’s ears and slammed his head into the floor hard enough to make him bite his tongue.

“Don’t write a check your ass can’t cash, old friend. In about sixty seconds, I’m going to leave this room, take an elevator to the surface, where I’ll receive my shot, and be on my way to have that drink I mentioned. Right after that, they’re going to seal up the entranceway nice and tight and permanent. With cement and steel, just like they do whenever there’s a new arrival to site number seven seven three four. There’s no way out, Charlie. None. That’s the point of this facility—no escape. Ever. All you can do is grab your cane and take the elevator down to your new life. Don’t worry. I’ll be toasting you back in the real world. And if you fail to perform your duties, just know that I’ll be the first one they’ll call. And then I will delight in destroying your family.”

Mann climbed off Hardie’s body, staring at him carefully, waiting for a reaction. Hardie didn’t give her one. After a few moments she made a pfft sound with her lips and left the room.

 * * *

Sure enough, after a few minutes Hardie could hear the sound of construction: the banging of steel, the muffled scrape of mortar hoes against some hard surface, the shrill buzzing of power saws.

Which was more than a little troubling.

Hardie pulled himself up off the ground, using his only good arm and only good leg to steady himself on elbow