Spy to Die For

But then, he really hadn’t felt like he was in danger around her until just a few minutes ago.

He would know an assassin, right? Rikki had been one for years, and there was a part of her that was just a bit colder than the average person. Colder than he was, certainly. And she had always been that way. She could shut down part of herself, do something difficult for the good of others—or so she said—and then move on without it having an obvious effect on her.

He both admired that trait and feared it. He had certainly used it, growing up. Rikki had often defended him physically, even though he was always the bigger of the two of them.

He wished Rikki had links; he wished he could contact her now.

Skye handed the tablet to him. “You know him?”

Jack held her gaze for a long moment. He realized that he hadn’t played this right; he wasn’t acting surprised that someone was trying to kill him.

Of course, he wasn’t surprised. Not after all he’d done. But he had never told Skye who he was, never said what he did, never explained anything about himself.

And the average person (there that stupid phrase was again) was never afraid of being assassinated. Or killed. Or robbed, for that matter.

But then, the average person rarely showed up on Krell.

It was too late to hide his initial reaction. And she seemed genuinely worried. A small frown line had formed between her eyes, and her mouth was thin. He wanted to kiss the frown away, but held back.

Instead, he took the tablet and looked down.

His breath caught. The image on the tablet belonged to Filip Heller, the nominal—maybe the actual—head of the Rovers. He was sitting in a familiar setting—Jack recognized the wall behind him—but he couldn’t place it. Somewhere on Krell, obviously.

Heller had grown his hair out, and he had just enough of a beard to look like he hadn’t shaved in a few days.

It was one of those deliberately bad disguises that the Rovers sometimes used when they were on a job. They wanted to be recognized by their client, but not by the target.

Jack had always thought that strange, but then, most Rovers weren’t well-known among the general population. Hell, most assassins weren’t.

“This is the man who’s after me?” he asked, still looking down. He felt disconcerted. He had known he offended the Rovers, had known they might even try something drastic, but he hadn’t expected Heller to do it.

“He sent two men after you,” she said softly.

Jack looked up, his hand still wrapped around the tablet. She hadn’t moved. She seemed to know this was a delicate moment for him.

“One of them declined the job,” she said. “The other one has until you leave Krell to finish it.”

Jack nodded. If Heller was hiring people, then more than one assassin would come after him.

Rikki wasn’t affiliated with the Rovers—she hadn’t been for years—so she wouldn’t know anything about this. And given the turmoil in her own life, Jack couldn’t ask her for help.

He was frightened. And that realization startled him.

He hoped the fear didn’t show on his face.

“Who is that?” Skye asked.

She seemed genuinely interested, genuinely concerned. And he had never felt so alone or vulnerable in his life.

Of course, he had learned through countless investigations that when a man was alone and vulnerable, someone would always come around to take advantage of him.

But there was no point in lying about Heller’s identity. She had his image, and Filip Heller was in countless databases, as a wanted felon in a variety of cultures.

“Where did you overhear this?” he asked, hoping she would take the misdirection.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, and sighed. She extended her hand for the tablet.

“You don’t believe me?” she asked.

“Oh, I do,” he said.

“You just don’t know if you can trust me.”

A small thread of relief ran through him. Just that tiny bit of understanding made him feel better. He really was vulnerable. He braced himself. She was going to cite their night together as a basis for trust.

“I can understand that,” she said. “I haven’t told you who I am or what I do.”

She got that, at least. For all he knew, she was the Rover. He felt stupid now for failing to check.

A man deserved one night off, didn’t he? One night worth enjoying?

He still clutched the tablet. “Thank you for the warning,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

He needed a plan, and he wasn’t sure how to make it. Or where to make one. His ship was now compromised. He couldn’t stay on Krell either. And taking a transport seemed too risky.

He wasn’t used to thinking like this. He had been an investigator forever. He had gone somewhere, found information, and then he had left. Yes, people remembered him—how could they not, he was so tall!—but they never saw him as a threat, because he hadn’t been a threat. Not to them.

He glanced at the door.

“You’re going back out there?” she asked, and her voice was filled with concern.

“Yeah,” he said. Maybe he could risk getting on his ship. Maybe he could get away.

“These men,” she said, “they know what they’re doing, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“And you don’t even carry a weapon,” she said.

It had been a point of pride for him. He had been affiliated with the Rovers, but he hadn’t been of the Rovers. He had been different, not a killer. Someone who prevented them from killing the wrong people, he used to say.

Until Heller took over. And then Heller would correct him: You’re just making sure we’re taking out the right people.

Even then, a few years ago, that sentence had bothered Jack. “Taking out” was not the way he wanted to think about the Rovers. And “the right people” meant that the people Rovers killed were legitimate targets.

Over time, there seemed to be fewer legitimate targets. Just people who deserved to die—according to the Rover who killed them.

“You have to trust someone,” Skye said.

He let out an involuntary laugh. “And you think it should be you.”

“We have that man in common,” she said, and it was Jack’s turn to frown in confusion.

“I thought you didn’t know who he was,” Jack said.

“I don’t,” she said. “But it seems he’s here to do more than one job. And I want to find out what the other job is.”

Job. People in his profession used that phrase for an assassination. It was a job. Nothing more, nothing less.

He felt his heart sink. So she was an assassin after all.

“You want to hook up with a man who’s being targeted?” Jack asked.

“Apparently, you forgot,” she said with a smile. “We’ve already hooked up.”

“I’ll never forget that.” Jack didn’t smile. He didn’t feel like smiling at all. “But I think it would be better if we followed your original plan.”

“Because you’ve got a killer after you,” she said.

He nodded.

“Did you do something worth dying for?” she asked, and the question seemed to have a deep meaning for her. That frown had grown deeper.

“Clearly this man believes so,” Jack said, shaking the tablet.

She sighed. “You have no good options, you know.”

“Believe me, I know,” he said.

“I’m the best you’ve got,” she said.

“I’m not sure why you’re trying so hard to convince me,” he said.