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“You, not us,” said Fletch. “They seem to know Mia, or more precisely, someone like Mia, is involved in helping you, but for right now, it’s you they’re after. And no, we don’t know who. We’ve ruled out some of the alphabet agencies, but there are others we’re still not sure of. Then there are some individuals who’d like your head on a platter, as well.”
“Individuals like Emil Franklin?” asked Claire.
Fletch and Carter looked at one another. The fact that they were willing to reveal that they knew who she was talking about was somehow reassuring and endearing. They, both of them, trusted both her and Mia. For men schooled not to trust anybody but each other, it was nice to be included within that inner circle. But of more interest was Mia’s reaction. Claire watched as she masked her own reaction to the name.
“Emil is not someone we would rule out. We don’t have any direct evidence that links him to the attempt, but certainly he’s capable and has the money.”
“Wouldn’t we be better off to make a stand here?”
“No. Too many innocent bystanders. I want us where if we get into a firefight, we only have to worry about ourselves.”
“Mia? Are you okay?”
“Claire, we need to listen to them. I’m all about you fulfilling your promise to your grandfather, but honestly neither of us signed up for this, and your granda wouldn’t want you to be risking your life.”
Carter rubbed her back. “It’ll be okay, Mia. We’re good at what we do, and we can protect you, provided you help us by doing what we ask.”
Mia shrugged off his comforting gesture. “You guys are all former commandos and black ops. We’re not spies or special agents, we’re just a couple of girls who went to boarding school together and decided to try and right some of the wrongs done a long time ago.” Mia shook her head. “I don’t think either of us hired on to be the target of assassins. We need to stop, get someplace safe, and hope they get tired of looking.”
“That’s not the way assassins work,” said Fletch. “They normally get half up front and the other half when the job is done. Not only do they want to get paid, but not finishing the job would be bad for their reputation. An assassin who doesn’t kill the target doesn’t get rehired and usually ends up being killed in retaliation.”
Claire came around the corner of the kitchen island and hugged Mia. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to get you into all of this.” She turned back to Fletch. “I think you should move Mia to your safe house and take me someplace else.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” said Mia. “You do not get to martyr yourself and leave me with crippling guilt for the rest of my life. We started this together…”
Claire smiled. “No. I started this; you got suspicious and started tracking me; you then blackmailed me into letting you help me. ‘It’ll be fun,’ you said.”
Mia laughed. “Okay. I get your point but somewhere along the line, your mission became mine, as well. Seeing those people when we return what was stolen from them makes it worth doing. We may not be able to give them back the people they lost, but we can give them tangible evidence that they existed, and that somebody still cares.”
Fletch came to stand behind Claire, wrapping his arms around her. “We’ll protect both of you. Neither of you is getting killed. But you have to trust us to do that and do as we ask. Mia, earlier I gave Claire a choice…”
“Not really,” Claire teased.
“I didn’t say it was a good choice, or that I wouldn’t help you to make the right choice, but I did give you a choice. My point, Mia, is that Claire chose me. I need you to choose me, too. Well, really, I need you to choose Carter, but that’s a whole other discussion. Will you choose to come with us and let us protect you?”
“What is it they say? In for a penny, in for a pound? If Claire chooses to trust you, so do I.”
“Then we’re settled,” said Fletch, turning to Carter, but not releasing his hold on Claire. “Let everybody know I want two men up here, and the rest of us are going to move out.”
“You got it, boss.”
“We can’t go to Prague. Mia said Interpol and a couple of the alphabet agencies raided our flat there. There was nothing left for them to find.”
“We weren’t headed for Prague. In the interest of full disclosure, who do you think slipped them the info on your Prague flat?”
“You?” accused Claire.
Fletch nodded. “Carter narrowed your destination down to Prague or Naples. We couldn’t cover both and adequately protect you.” He shrugged. “I figured you’d head for the sun, so here we are. Turns out I was right.”
“Where are we headed?”
“A small, fortified cottage on the coast just this side of Monaco. We’re still in Italy so no new papers are needed, and Carter has everything he needs there to get you new documentation.”
“Doesn’t the coast leave you more vulnerable to attack from the sea?” asked Claire.
“Yes, but it also gives us another mode of transportation to get away. We have a private landing strip of sorts…”
“Most people call it the dirt driveway, but it makes him feel better to say it’s a runway,” said Carter with a grin.
