Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

There were so many things he had to do, Jason thought when he woke up Sunday morning, but with Alisa's warm, naked body curled up next to his, he didn't want to do any of them. And it was only eight, so they had some time. Still, it felt a little strange to feel so lazy, so unfocused, so uninterested in what was coming next.

He lived for the job, but even he needed a break. They'd just stopped a potentially catastrophic attack and gotten Novikov off the FBI's most wanted list. That was a huge accomplishment, and he had every right to savor the victory.

He still wondered about the men who had found Novikov and Stephanie. He had some idea about who they might be, but he wasn't sure he even wanted to know. Then, he might have to do something about it.

He'd let that situation sit for a while. There were other issues to deal with, like Stephanie's official interrogation. He was curious about her role in what had happened this week and also three years ago. Her betrayal still felt like a knife to his heart, and he inwardly raged with what- ifs about the day his father was killed, knowing he'd probably be tortured by those thoughts for a long time to come .

And then there was Alisa's father. He didn't know what would happen to Dan Hunt. He had helped the US before, which had led to his defection and getting asylum. He had lived an exemplary life for the past thirty years, until he was forcibly kidnapped by Novikov and his daughter's life was threatened unless he cooperated. He'd also given Alisa the code to disarm the bombs and had intended to blow them up before they ever got to the site. But the suicide vest had derailed that plan. Dan had done a lot of things right, but he had also put together two dirty bombs and for that, there might still be a cost.

He would have to see what the higher-ups at the Bureau, Homeland Security, the White House, and the Department of Justice would have to say because they would all be weighing in. He hoped that if there was a punishment, it would be short, and eventually Dan would be able to go home. Alisa and her mother needed him in their lives.

While Dan's actions in running away didn't sit well with him, neither Alisa and nor her mother seemed to blame him. The Hunt family was all about love, forgiveness, and faith in each other.

His family hadn't been like that at all. There had been acrimony, doubts, complaints, and accusations. His parents had barely kissed or touched around him, even before their divorce. They had never been in sync. They had never looked at each other the way Dan and Pamela had looked at each other last night. Their love had truly seemed unconditional. And Alisa's love for them was the same. She'd been angry with her dad, but in the end, she loved him, and she accepted him for his limitations, for his duplicitous life.

Maybe that just made the Hunt women a little too easygoing, or maybe it was something to admire; he wasn't completely sure. He thought Dan had made some big mistakes, but then he'd never been in a situation like Dan. And who was he to talk about trusting the wrong people or not seeing something right in front of his face when he hadn't seen any sign of evil in his former partner?

Stephanie had worked alongside him for eighteen months, but she'd felt no guilt in taking his father's life because hers was the only one that mattered. In fact, she'd probably liked the idea that by taking his dad away, she was also taking away some perceived advantage he'd had over her because of his family background. She'd always pushed the narrative that everything he'd gotten or achieved was because of his connections while she'd had to struggle every step of the way. She definitely had a victim personality. It was never her fault.

Well, she could stew about all that in jail for the rest of her life.

As Alisa began to stretch like a sleepy cat, his body tightened, and he wanted her again. The passion they'd shared last night was reawakening with the daylight. He was becoming addicted to her. And he didn't know what he was going to do about that. Because things between them were coming to an end.

Unless he didn't let them end.

That thought made him uneasy. He was courageous in the face of danger and even the potential loss of his life, but losing his heart was a different story.

Alisa's eyes fluttered open, drawing his gaze to hers.

She gave him a happy smile. "Morning."

"How did you sleep?"

"I don't think I dreamt at all, which was a good thing. What about you?"

"Same." He hadn't had to dream because he'd fallen asleep with her in his arms.

"Do we really have to get up?"

"I was wondering the same thing," he admitted with a smile.

She lifted her head and propped it up on one elbow. "But?"

"I didn't say but."

"I heard it even if you didn't say it. "

"There is a lot of follow-up to do, and I need to go into the office."

"I know. But it's Sunday. Can you start a little later?"

He laughed. "Like how much later?"

"However much time you'll give me," she said with a sexy smile.

He wanted to give her all the time in the world. But they were both living in the euphoric afterglow of what they'd survived, what they'd conquered, and this wasn't either of their real lives.

"Jason?" she asked, her smile dimming. "Where did you go?"

"I was just thinking about time. It's been controlling us since the first moment we met."

"I know. Last night, that ticking clock seemed to match the beat of my heart. Watching you disarm that bomb was one of the scariest things I've ever seen. I don't know how you were so calm because every second that ticked away filled me with dread."

"I just had to focus on stopping the timer because there wasn't another option. You did the same minutes later," he reminded her.

"It was easier for me; I'd already watched you succeed."

"You still had to do it and get it done in seconds. In fact, if you had been a little later finding the backpack…"

She put a finger against his mouth. "We're not thinking about that."

"No, we're not," he agreed as he kissed her finger before she moved her hand away from his mouth. "We can finally stop looking back and just focus on the future."

"There's a lot I have to do in my future, too. I have to get another car for one thing."

"At least, you seem to have conquered your fear of garages," he said lightly.

"Yes, but I have a feeling I'll still be thinking about carjackers and bombs every time I go into a garage. I know I won't ever walk to my car again without the keys in my hand."

"Probably a good idea."

"I also have to figure out where my mom is going to go, and what we're going to do about her house. My dad said he wasn't the one who burned it down. You were wrong about that. He just had an idea that Novikov would do something to the house. That's why he took some personal memorabilia when he left."

"I'm glad he wasn't the one to do that. As for figuring out your mother's future living situation, she seems ready to help you with all of that."

"She's doing so much better, but I'm not sure she's fully grasped the idea that her house is completely gone. That will be a shock."

"Having her husband back and knowing you're both safe will absorb that shock."

"I used to think my life was so ordinary, so normal, so boring. I yearned for adventure." She gave him a helpless smile. "I guess it's true that you should be careful what you wish for." She paused. "Are you ready to get back into action, work on another case, dive into another perilous situation?"

"Not right this minute," he admitted. "And there's still a lot to do in this investigation."

"I'm sorry about your father, Jason, about the betrayal of your partner, your friend. I know you must be reeling from that."

"I'm still processing. It's difficult to believe she killed him. But she told me the truth. And I guess I'm a little glad he got a shot off, and her limp is a reminder of what she did to him. Plus, she'll be in prison, and that won't be easy on her."

"I hope it's as hard and as uncomfortable as possible. I know I played right into her hand by going with her. It was stupid. You told me not to leave the room, and I did."

"You weren't stupid. I was the one who wasn't seeing the red flags she was showing me," he said heavily. "But we can't change anything, and I don't want to give her any more of my time or my energy."

"You're right. Enough about her, my family, and Novikov. I have other places I'd like to spend my time and energy," she added, running her fingers down his chest. "I know we have to get to the hospital by eleven, but we have a couple of hours. What do you think?"

He laughed as he captured her hand and brought it to his mouth again for another kiss. "I think I have some other places in mind, too."

"Good," she said, putting her mouth on his lips, and then his neck, his chest, and lower…

Jason took Alisa to the hospital a little before eleven. They got to spend about ten minutes with her father before he was taken away. Then it was time to get her mother dressed and released from the hospital. While Alisa was waiting with her mother for the discharge papers, he went to check in on Henry and was relieved to hear his condition had improved. It looked like he would have a long recovery and might have some long-term health issues, but he was going to survive and that was good news. The world needed more men like Henry.

He'd shared the happy update with Alisa and her mother and then drove them to Alisa's apartment, stopping along the way to pick up a few groceries to tide them over until Alisa could get a car and get to the supermarket.

After they were settled in, he said goodbye to Alisa with a far-too-short kiss in the hallway and then got back in his car around one-thirty. He was about to head into the office when his phone vibrated with a call from Mick.

"Hadley," he said. "I assume you're up-to-date."

"You had a good night," Mick said. "Excellent work, Jason."

"You provided a crucial piece of information on where I could find Alisa. I'm still curious about that. Can we talk? Are you available?"

"I could make myself available," Mick said. "I'm at the Santa Monica Pier about to order a beer at Steelworks Brewery. Want to join me? The beer is on me."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said, making a U-turn at the next light.

On the way to meet Mick, he gave Patrick a call and asked if he could meet him and Mick at the brewery. He wanted to give him an update on Novikov.

Novikov's name got the result he wanted, and Patrick immediately said he was on his way. Mick might not appreciate that he'd invited Patrick to join them, but he didn't want to have the same conversation twice.

He got delayed by Sunday traffic to the beach and arrived at the brewery half an hour later. Patrick was already there, sitting at an outdoor table with Mick. The men didn't seem bothered to be together. But then they'd known each other for a long time.

As he sat down, Patrick poured him a beer from the pitcher on the table and passed it to him. "Mick was just telling me what happened last night," Patrick said. "You did a hell of a good job, Jason."

"It wasn't all me."

"That's not what I heard. You dismantled a dirty bomb, right?"

"I did do that," he admitted. "But I had help. I was given the code by Daniel Hunt's daughter."

"That was helpful," Mick agreed. "I'm glad you found her alive and well."

"Thanks to your tip," he said.

Mick and Patrick looked happier and more relaxed than he'd ever seen them. He didn't know either of them that well, Patrick more than Mick, of course, but his experiences with both of them had been limited to short-term situations that had often been fraught with tension .

"Your father would have been proud," Patrick said, lifting his glass. "We should drink to your dad. Hopefully, his soul is at peace now."

He raised his glass. "To my father," he echoed, clinking glasses with both of them. "So, I'm sure you've both heard Arseni Novikov was shot in an office building across from the mall where he and my former partner Stephanie Genaro were going to watch their deadly fireworks show. Novikov was shot twice, once in the head and once in the heart. Stephanie was left tied to a chair. She'll be going to prison."

"Did she set up that ambush three years ago that took your dad's life?" Patrick asked.

It wasn't an unexpected question, but one he thought Patrick already knew the answer to. "Yes," he said. "And she's the one who shot and killed my father at Novikov's order. The only reason she was hurt was because my father got off a shot before he died. One of Novikov's men removed their guns before we arrived so that Stephanie would look innocent."

"But they left her bleeding on the floor," Patrick commented. "That was cold."

"Novikov never cared who he hurt," Mick interjected.

"Stephanie is also the one who sent the shooter to the park a few days ago, Patrick. You were the target, not me. She was afraid you were going to put doubts in my head about her. I didn't realize you thought she was the mole."

"I had a bad feeling about her, but I could never prove anything," Patrick said. "She seemed to feel the same way about me, spreading gossip that made my job more difficult. I got tired of the sideways looks, so I retired. I must admit I'm surprised she thought she needed to kill me now."

"She wanted me to believe she was helping me so she could keep an eye on the investigation and report back to Novikov. I'm sure that's why she gave me a lead to Ilyin that didn't pan out. It was legit, so I trusted her, but it got me nowhere. It was a win-win for her. "

"Makes sense," Patrick said.

"Well, at least the era of Novikov is over," Mick said. "One of the most wanted terrorists in the world is dead, and several of his associates are either dead or on their way to prison. You've done well, Jason. I'm glad I gave you the tip."

"Like I said before, I didn't do anything on my own, and I didn't kill Novikov."

"Then who did?" Mick asked, his gaze questioning.

"Stephanie said there were two men, both wearing black, their faces fully covered by ski masks and dark glasses. According to my team, security cameras in the office building went offline probably minutes before Novikov was shot. There were no prints left at the scene, and no evidence leading to the two masked shooters. They were pros."

Mick shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Does anyone care who did it? I know I don't."

"I don't, either," Patrick said. "If I knew who they were, I'd congratulate them on a job well done."

"Exactly," Mick said.

"We also haven't found out who killed Dominic Ilyin yet, either," he added, watching Mick's face closely. "We don't know who was driving the van that kidnapped him or who killed him. They beat him up before they took him out, so it seems like his last minutes were painful."

Mick didn't flinch. "Dominic Ilyin tortured many people in his life, Jason. He was also responsible for multiple assassinations in Europe. It's good that he's dead. I'm just glad I found him before he expired. I was able to get the information you needed to find Alisa and her father."

"I'm puzzled at how both of you seemed to be nearby when Dominic was taken and then when he was found. Were you working together?"

"Work together?" Patrick echoed with a laugh that was a little too pronounced. "No. I don't work with spooks, no offense, Mick. "

"None taken," Mick said easily. "I don’t much like working with the feds, either, but sometimes it's necessary."

"That's true. Sometimes it is necessary," Patrick agreed.

"So, hypothetically speaking, if the FBI were to keep digging into Novikov's murder and Stephanie's capture, do you think they'd find anything?"

"You would know that better than us," Mick said. "I work for the CIA. I like to help when I can, but I'm not one of you."

"And I'm retired," Patrick said with a shrug. "I'm out of the loop, Jason."

"I just thought with all your experience, you each might have an opinion."

"I don't think they'll ever be caught," Patrick said, a small smile playing around his lips. "In my opinion."

"And you, Mick?"

"In order to find Novikov and Stephanie Genaro, those two men must have been very smart, very strategic. I doubt they would have left a clue behind. They did what they intended to do, and that's it."

"I wonder how they figured out where Novikov and Stephanie were hiding."

"They obviously weren't closely involved in the operation, so they weren't consumed with the evacuation and the disarming of explosives. They had time to consider where the creators of such mayhem might be positioned to watch the results of their grand plan," Mick said.

"There was a lot going on last night," he agreed.

"I think we should have another toast." Patrick raised his glass. "To the end of an era. The chase that went on for thirty years is over. Now, we can all move on."

He clinked his glass against theirs once more.

He'd found out what he wanted to know. While they hadn't admitted to anything, he had no doubt they had been the shooters in the office building. They'd taken out the man who had taken out his father. And they'd left Stephanie for him because she was the one who had betrayed him.

He also believed that they, or at least Mick, had tortured the information out of Dominic Ilyin that had allowed him to find Alisa.

He didn't believe in personal vengeance, but he had no proof they were guilty, and with a man as dangerous to mankind as Novikov was, he wasn't going to look for evidence. He was just going to move on.

If they were responsible, they would have to live with what they had done. They had both served their countries for decades, and Mick continued to do that. Their choices were theirs, and having lived the lives they'd led, he couldn't help wondering if his father would have done the same thing, if at some point, he would have tried to take justice into his own hands.

He didn't want to get to that point, but he could see how his obsession with work could turn him into someone as jaded and hard as the two men in front of him. They were a mirror to what he could look like in thirty years, and he didn't like the reflection.