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“Three years ago. At 12 a.m. In Berlin.”
Their eyes met and held as Anna’s breath caught in her throat. That had been the exact moment when he’d saved her from the muggers. They knew this because a street clock had chimed the hour.
“But he told me that you’re not free. That you still work for him. That people don’t retire from that job. Ever.”
“I just found that out myself.”
He sounded so utterly crushed that she gripped his hand with hers.
“Can’t you just stop, just walk away?” The tears had started to gather in Anna’s eyes.
“I could, but I’d be dead or more likely in prison in less than twenty-four hours if I did.”
“But these people are the law! How can they possibly do that?”
“They are the law, a law unto themselves. They kill when the ends justify it. It’s a dangerous world and the rules of the game have changed.”
“That’s very comforting.”
“Do you want to be safe?”
“At any price? No!”
“That makes you a minority.”
“So where exactly does that leave us?”
“I asked you to marry me. You accepted. You asked me to get your father’s permission. I did. But I wasn’t truthful with you. And I can’t stop doing work for Frank. And I can’t expect you to marry me under these conditions. It’s not fair. And it’s not right. And I love you too much to do that to you. And now I’m going to do the hardest thing I’ve ever had to.”
“What is that?” she said in a hollow whisper.
“Walk out of your life.”
Shaw started to rise. “Wait!” she exclaimed. He sat back down.
Anna dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. “Do you still want to marry me?”
“Anna, that’s not the issue anymore. When I go away you’ll never know if I’ll come home alive.”
“What do you think the spouses of soldiers and police officers do every day?”
“Anna, that’s easy to say but…”
She sat on his lap and placed his large, muscular hand over her engagement ring.
“You only have to ask yourself one question, Shaw. Just one. Do you still love me? If the answer is no, your problem goes away.”
He placed his head gently against hers. “Then I have a big problem.”
CHAPTER 35
NICOLAS CREEL HAD NEVER BEEN an overly religious man, yet this amount of good fortune must surely have at its epicenter a divine light. His life of balancing good works with the sale of deadly weapons was clearly paying off, judging by the latest golden opportunity to present itself.
He’d reviewed the surveillance tapes of The Phoenix Group’s building and watched in astonishment as a woman identified as Anna Fischer and none other than the legendary journalist Katie James walked into the place practically arm in arm!
He now had the remaining piece to his game plan. Creel had dossiers on a dozen promising candidates, yet Katie James had never even occurred to him because she’d dropped off the radar screen. He’d had an entire file assembled on her within an hour of seeing the woman on the video. And the man liked what he had seen.
Her fall from the top had been swift. Allegations of alcoholism, stories botched or never written. Relegated to the obit page and she was several years shy of forty. Her two Pulitzers had not saved her from that fate. She looked hungry on the film.
