always an element of danger and the unknown in his line of work. It had never deterred him from the job before.
“If it helps at all, none of us believe her to be a mercenary. She is lost and alone and needs to find her balance before she can believe any of what she found here to be true and worth fighting for.”
Leo looked at his hands, envisioned them in Olivia’s. “So I’m supposed to just wait for that to happen?”
“She’ll reach out when she’s ready.”
Yeah . . . Leo didn’t see himself waiting. But they were right. As with any branch of government, worldwide, they would extract as much intel as they could and only then determine if you still needed to be imprisoned for your crimes. Pledging the FBI would take care of her was a promise Leo could not keep.
“You’re still going to look for her, aren’t you?” Neil asked.
“Damn right.”
“Then do it at my headquarters. I have two of Richter’s top hackers on payroll,” Neil said, and then he glanced at Sasha. “And one who does it for free.”
“She cares about you,” Sasha said after a moment of silence.
“She left.”
“Which proves she cares.”
Leo looked between Sasha and Neil. He didn’t take their trust and honor lightly. “What the hell am I going to tell my boss?”
Sasha laughed, turned to leave the room. “We have that figured out. I’ll go over the details on the plane home.”
“Would you like me to top off your wine?”
Olivia looked up at the flight attendant who stood over her with a bottle of chardonnay in her hand. With more than seven hours remaining in her flight, she knew the effects of what she allowed herself to drink would wear off before they landed. “Yes, please.” She was running on less than three hours of sleep. She was hoping the alcohol would help her fix that.
The cubical-style business-class seating kept the other passengers from watching her without being obvious.
The short red wig and tinted contacts changed her look dramatically from the woman who’d been throwing snowballs less than two days before. She pulled out her thick Russian accent and still spoke English to those around her.
She’d abandoned the Jeep in Durango, and borrowed a car parked on a residential street. From there she drove to Denver and left that car where it would easily be found and returned to its owner. She then backtracked on a flight to Seattle.
The next flight she booked was with a passport Neil had no knowledge of. First stop was Chicago, and now she was destined for Paris. From there she’d obtain a car and drive the rest of the way.
But for now, she breathed.
Even if it was painful.
The flight attendant refilled her wine, removed her meal tray, and disappeared.
The envelope with her name written on the outside had tiny tears on the edges. One for every time she considered opening the letter and then decided not to. Not until she was on the international flight and couldn’t change her mind.
She took a generous sip of her wine and opened the letter.
Olivia,
If you’re reading this, then you’re gone. We will be sorry you felt you had to leave, but none of us thought you’d stay. I can assure you that this team has, and is still willing to, take an active role in helping you move beyond your past. You don’t have to do this alone.
I will not personally search you out. But the same can’t be said for our mutual friend. For what it’s worth, I never revealed the truth to him. Though by now I’m sure he’s figured much of it out. I will tell him what I must to keep you safe, no more, no less.
If your safety is at risk, there will be a yellow ribbon on my front door . . . any and all of them.
You know how to contact me.
Don’t hesitate.
N
A thick knot of emotion balled in her throat.
So many memories flashed in her head. When he walked into the ICU room and looked down at her.
“Do I know you?”
“I’m hard to forget.”
Yet she had forgotten him.
Even the name Olivia didn’t click into line until she was knee deep in snow and out of breath from playing like a child.
The vision of Sasha handing her a box of condoms and claiming when this was all over, she wouldn’t want complications, circled.
Isaac’s plea to not be tied up, that she could just leave . . .