The Fifth Profession

“Yes.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“No,” Savage said. “Our love was different.”

“Can I be a substitute?”

“No.” Savage straightened. “You're unique. I'll always worship you.”

“Always?”

“I know what you want to say.”

“Don't presume.” Rachel frowned.

“ ‘Abraham believed by virtue of the absurd.’ ”

Now Rachel smiled. “You did know.”

“So what are we going to do?” Savage asked. “Hailey didn't admit it, but your husband was a part of this.”

“What?” Rachel paled.

“Yes,” Savage said. “Akira and I. Both sent to Mykonos. Both sent to meet each other during your rescue. Japan for Japan. That's fine. But Japan needs oil. And that means ships. And I think your husband made a deal to guarantee those ships. That's why Akira and I were sent to Mykonos. Because your husband's estate was convenient, since he was involved in the conspiracy.”

“So he beat me and raped me for political reasons?”

“From everything I learned, I think he did it…”

“Oh,” Rachel said. She clutched him.

“Because he liked it. A bonus in the midst of business.”

“So…”

“I think…,” Savage said.

“What?”

“I might have to kill him. Otherwise,” Savage said, “he'll keep chasing us.”

Rachel shook her head in fury.

“What?” Savage asked.

“No more killing. Too much! Too damned much!”

“He's a very proud man.”

“So are we proud,” Rachel said.

“Then what's the answer?”

“You mentioned a beach near Cancun.”

“Where I'd like…”

“To make love to me?”

“In fact I'd like to do that right now.”

“In spite of your grief?” she asked.

“Because of it. In memory of… in celebration of… life. That's all we have. Not the past, not the future. My past, I discovered, was a lie. But I prefer the lie to the truth. And the future…?”

“Faith.”

“And that's absurd.”

“And don't I love it.”

“And don't I love you,” Savage said.

The lantern's flare sank, extinguished by water.

“I'll remember you, Akira, your kami in the wind and the rain,” Savage said.

They turned and saw Eko, who bowed.

Savage and Rachel bowed as well.

And turned toward the carefully raked and groomed sand of the Zen Buddhist garden, which Akira's father had spent years arranging, and which Akira had persisting in attempting to perfect after his father's death.

Neither man had achieved his obsession.

But as Savage scanned the meticulous design that he'd labored to recreate after the assassins had despoiled it, he grinned with melancholy, sensing that his eyes were as sad as Akira's.

For Akira's ashes had been scattered.

And raked among the sand.

One with nature.

“I know… I'm sure,” Savage said, “he's at peace.”

“And what about us?” Rachel asked.

“Will you…?”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Jesus, Savage, I'm already married, and the bastard's chasing me.”

“Trust me. We don't need a legal ceremony. Just a private one. You and me.”

“Right now?”

“Damned right.” He kissed her. “I promise to love, to honor and cherish you.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“And a final promise.” He kissed her again.

“What's that?”

“To protect.”

David Morrell

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