“So we jumped into France into a network our superiors knew had been compromised. We were quite disconcerted, to put it lightly, to be picked up by the Gestapo before we could even gather in our parachutes. The Frenchman was the smartest. He went down shooting on the drop zone rather than be captured. The Brit and I were taken prisoner.”
Almost perfect silence reigned in the dark room for several moments. The only slight sound was Collins’ breathing.
“I talked,” Nero finally said. “After the first eye I talked. I never quite understood why they took out the second considering they were going to execute me the next day. A touch of sadism I suspect. The Brit talked too. And the Germans believed us. I would have believed too. Because we believed what we were saying under torture. Which was, of course, lies fed to us. Quite a brilliant scheme, if you think about. Which I have, of course. Often over the years.
“I don’t regret it. In retrospect, my little team of three helped- along with many other lies — convince the Germans the invasion was coming in Calais, not Normandy. Do you know how many lives that saved in the long run? And I lived. The only one. These—“ he waved his hand in front of his face—“what are the loss of these compared to death?
“Do you know how I survived? The Resistance attacked the Gestapo building where I was being held. One of the fighters got me out of my cell. But we were trapped on the third floor. There was only one way out. Through a window and sliding down a radio transmission wire extended across the street to the next roof.” Nero held up his hands, showing the scars. “My hands were sliced to the bone sliding down that wire, but I didn’t let go until I got to the other side. The Resistance gathered me in and eventually got me back to England.
“I later found out that someone here in Washington had approved of the mission I was sent on. My predecessor here in the Cellar. He’d heard about me and he had me brought here. He wanted to know how I felt about what had happened. I told him the truth.” Nero paused for a couple of seconds. “That if I were him, I would have done the same thing.”
Senator Collins wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.
“From that moment on he began grooming me to be his replacement. I took over from him in 1947 and have been here ever since. I also learned later that he had ordered that Resistance unit to rescue me. Most interesting and foresightful don’t you think?” Nero frowned, an obscene gesture with eyebrows furrowing over empty sockets. “Do you understand what I am saying to you, Senator?”
“Yes.”
“No, you don’t, I fear.”
"Is this matter going to be taken care of?" Collins demanded as he checked his watch.
"Oh, yes, indeed, it will be taken care of," Nero assured the Senator, the nature of his artificial voice making it impossible for Collins to determine anything of meaning in the comment beyond the words themselves. "That's my job, taking care of things."
CHAPTER 14
Racine slowly drove by the abandoned truck. The two women had left it eighty miles west of the exit at which Racine had sent the two motorcycle thugs after them. He had been impressed with Neeley for the second time. She had handled herself well. Perhaps Gant had had more than pussy on his mind when he’d hooked up with her.
He could have taken them himself, but the restaurant was too public. Some dumb shit would call the cops as they had. The two motorcycle goons had been gathered up but they had no clue that Racine was other than a man who had their phone number and had given them each a thousand in cash.
Better to flush the game and set it running and catch up some place more private. From the way Neeley had handled the Glock back at the Masterson's house and her actions in the restaurant, he decided that Gant's woman could prove difficult. She'd obviously fight like hell to keep the blond bitch alive. The situation was unraveling. Much as he hated to admit it, a more direct approach and some backup were needed. He'd already called the Agency number about the latter requirement and forces were moving.
He looked at the glowing dot on the screen of his tracking computer. It was sitting still in the middle; the bug that he had placed on the truck. He switched frequencies. "Come to papa," he muttered. A new, moving dot lit up on the screen to the west near Kansas City and Racine drove to the on-ramp in pursuit.
It was nearing noon as Neeley and Hannah approached the eastern suburbs of Kansas City. Hannah had fallen asleep a couple of hours ago. It was more of a collapse from complete exhaustion than a pleasant nap. Neeley was grateful for the quiet as she tried to make plans for the immediate future.
They'd dumped the truck in exchange for a four door, white sedan that would be hard for police to spot. Another felony to add to her growing list of crimes. It didn't bother Neeley. If she was ever caught, and the authorities found out who she really was, she had a lot more to worry about than grand theft auto. She'd quickly loaded everything from the truck into the trunk and back seat of the car.
They were going to Boulder, Colorado as Gant had instructed. Gant had another house there. She had no clue what to do with Hannah now that she seemed to have adopted the woman like a stray cat. For better or worse, they were joined together.
Glancing at the briefcases in the backseat, she consoled herself with the knowledge that they had money, and one could do just about anything with the right amount of cash. She also had John's briefcase and the material that was in it.
She was disturbed with the thought of Hannah as her companion in flight. Neeley preferred to work alone as did any true professional. Gant had spent years training her out of the everyday incompetence that ruled most people's lives. Adding another person to a mission doubled your chance of screwing up but it did not double your chance of succeeding. Another of Gant’s rules.
How Neeley was supposed to deal with this bleached blond was a mystery to her. Neeley was tired, though, and she knew they needed a good night's sleep before attempting the long haul across Kansas. She hoped they had some space from the Cellar.
As Hannah's slow regular breathing filled the interior of the sedan, Neeley began to warm to the idea of Boulder. As far as she knew, Gant's house there was an unknown to the Cellar. It was managed by one of the many accounts that had funded Gant's secret world. They had used it mainly as a base for their yearly rock climbing expeditions to nearby Eldorado Canyon.
Climbing was the one physical skill she had brought into the relationship with Gant. Jean-Philippe had introduced her to the sport when they were teenagers. She allowed herself a moment of emotion and remembered the childish excitement she felt every summer when she returned to Strasbourg, her grandmother and Jean-Philippe.
Hannah stirred. "Where are we going?"
"To Boulder, Colorado."
"By car? Don't you know someone who will swoop down and rescue some damsels in distress?"
Neeley wrinkled her nose at the thought of being a damsel but she did get an idea. "I know someone who swoop down and help us for money."
It was Hannah's turn to feign disgust. "My, what charming friends you have."
Neeley snorted. "Hey, I wouldn't talk. I heard you and the bitch brigade playing golf."
"You were the person on the hill!" Hannah exclaimed. "Did you hear everything? What were they saying?"
"Let's get into that when we're not running for our lives," Neeley said.
"I have a feeling that you're always running for your life," Hannah said.
"Better than running from it," Neeley said sharply.