Page 54 of The Big Fix

“Help me,” she pleaded. “I need him to live through this.”

“And you too,” he soothed her. “You will live as well and get home to Paris, to your apartment, and drink wine and sit on your balcony and look at the Place Vendôme while you pet your dogs.”

I had no idea they were close enough friends that he’d been to her house and met her dogs. I probably should have been paying better attention to a lot of things.

She nodded quickly, then pressed her face into his chest. He took that moment to shoot me another scathing look.

“Fuck,” I groaned, then looked around for Chris. “Where the hell is Mancuso?”

“He left for Caracas,” Dante told me, grinning. “It couldn’t be helped; it was a standing engagement. He said he’d check in with us in three days, see where we were with this.”

But I didn’t need Chris since Isaak was here, even though I was certain that in Jing’s mind, one didn’t cancel out the other. She called Isaak for more help. God knew who she’d call now that Chris was out of the mix. I needed to talk with her before she made any more arrangements, but I’d have to wait until she was done telling Isaak about her favorite bakery near Notre Dame and how she made a TikTok account for her dogs.

An hour later, I got a call from Darius, who wanted to see me, so he used a secure line to Skype.

“Holy crap.” From his expression, and tone, Darius was horrified over my appearance. “You didn’t look like that when you saw the ambassador, did you?” And, of course, in contrast to me, he looked amazing in a black shirt and jodhpurs.

“He did,” Dante affirmed, smirking, leaning into the frame. “What’s with the outfit? Are you playing polo or something?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” he snapped at Dante. “I—Jesus, that’s Isaak, isn’t it?”

“Harris,” Isaak greeted him, using Darius’s old name, the one he’d used in his Intelligence days, and later, as a contractor. “You are looking well.”

“And you,” Darius told him, “though how you got into the country without sirens going off is beyond me.”

“You have your ways, I have mine.”

“Okay,” Darius said, eyes back on me. “That’s not great. Isaak?”

“Oh, buddy, that was so not my call.”

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it now but try and keep him from killing, like, everyone who crosses his path.”

I shrugged, and Dante shook his head. Like Isaak ever listened to anyone.

“So after having a brief conversation with George Hunt, I have to ask, who do you think is trying to kill you, and why?”

“Everyone, if the last twenty-four hours are any indication.”

“No. This is specific. So to find out where you are, you have to look at where you’ve been.”

I fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. A look back at my past was inevitable, it seemed. However unpleasant, it was necessary.

Isaak didn’t care about delving into my past. He was there to protect me, and Jing, and since he wasn’t needed until we actually left the safe house, he went to take one of his famous power naps to stay sharp—he only did that on couches or chairs so he was never completely comfortable. Garland had guard duty, and Jing had staggered to the bed beside the couch Isaak was on and basically passed out. That left Darius, Dante, and I to go through what I’d done.

What was helpful was that I didn’t need to try and give them a concise summary of my lengthy operational past, focusing on my time with the agency, because they knew. They’d been there with me. Constructing a timeline was easier when everyone knew the path. We spent the next two hours looking thoroughly at every possible enemy from my past and compiled a list.

What emerged was a portrait of global terrorism, from Italy’s ’Ndrangheta, to the Rasool family mafia organization in South Africa, to the Russian Bratva. All of whom had a vested stake in removing me from among the living. I had killed dozens of men and women across Europe in the service of the United States.

“Was there anything on Owen’s computer?” I asked Darius. I had known the password, but when I’d checked the laptop, everything looked like boring work stuff. It was gone when I woke up, so I’d guessed Lee had taken it with him after his visit, and of course, I was right.

“Not that we could find,” Darius answered. “We took it apart but found the same things you did, just innocuous work files.”

No help at all.

“So,” Darius said, “I tend to agree with Dante’s assessment.”

“Dante hasn’t shared his thoughts,” I told Darius. “He’s being mysterious.”