Angel and the Assassin

never want to see no more.”
    What the hell was going on? He had thought he would have a couple of weeks
    at least before someone realized Angel was missing. What was he going to do now?
    If he handed the boy over to Conran, no one would ever see him again. Kael would

    Angel and the Assassin
    67

    never see him again. They would get rid of him because he knew too much. Conran
    would not protect him.
    Kael sipped his coffee and wondered how many people from Roughnecks last
    night would remember Angel. Even with the cap Kael had made him wear to hide
    his easily identifiable blond head, someone might remember him.
    His mobile beeped, and Kael snatched it off the waist clip. He had a number of
    phones for different uses and disposed of them often in favor of new ones. GPS was
    the bane of his job. The old cold war assassins never had to worry about being
    tracked by their phones. But Conran was the only one who had that number.
    “What?”
    “What happened to the boy, Saunders?”
    “Wait.” He looked at Dragana, who was applying Pledge to the dining room
    table and chairs, before walking quickly to the dungeon. He shut the door, locking
    himself in, then went to the far side of the room. He lowered his voice to a near
    whisper. The dungeon was soundproofed, and he checked it often for spyware, but
    he was always careful. “There was no boy. You said there‟d be cleanup on this job.
    What the fuck happened?”
    “I don‟t know, but heads will roll over this.”
    “My instructions said the boy and the mother had left. I just saw the whole
    story plastered all over CNN with that crazy blonde woman talking about an
    endangered boy.”
    “I know. It‟s very embarrassing to find out via a news outlet that one‟s people
    have not done their jobs.”
    “I did my fucking job. Andresen‟s dead.”
    “Calm down, Saunders. No one is suggesting you did not execute your mission
    perfectly. The boy appears to be missing, but he managed to contact the family maid
    via e-mail yesterday. The local police have already announced that they think it is a
    ransom kidnapping gone wrong and that someone has the boy held hostage.”
    Kael clenched his fists and took a long steadying breath. He wanted to give
    Angel another ass whipping, as the boy put it. What the hell had made him e-mail a
    maid? “Maybe someone does have him. I never saw him.”
    “Just tell me you didn‟t leave behind any identifying evidence.”
    “I always wear gloves, but you said there would be cleanup at this one. That‟s
    their job, and it is your fucking job to protect me, you stupid arsehole!” He tried to
    moderate his voice, but he was panicked, terrified of what might happen to Angel
    and terrified of what he would do if he lost him. Wrapping his arms around his
    belly, he slid down the wall to sit on the floor. All of a sudden his stomach felt sick,
    and he thought he was going to bring up his coffee. In one moment of sickening fear
    and frightening possessiveness, he envisioned losing Angel.
    A long pause followed. When Conran spoke again, his speech was measured.
    “Someone from the Foreign Office will get in touch with the Americans and tell
    them to back off, but we need to find that boy and ensure he saw nothing and knows

    68
    Fyn Alexander

    nothing. Are you absolutely certain he was not in that house? All we need is for him
    to have seen you and then fled in fear. If he can identify you—”
    “He wasn‟t there,” Kael interrupted.
    “How can you be certain?”
    “Because I know everything,” Kael said. A moment of complete stillness
    followed. If Kael knew Conran, and he did, the man was licking his upper lip
    nervously at that moment.
    “And you did not leave behind any evidence?” His voice was quiet. He must be
    calling from home. “Sperm up Andresen‟s backside, for instance? Or belt marks on
    his buttocks?”
    “I only do them first if they want me to, and I always wear a condom,” he said,
    as if amused by the accusation, though if Conran had been in the room, he would
    have backhanded him for it.
    “It‟s a pity you did not possess such scruples in school,” Conran said quietly.
    “Are you still stinging over that?” Kael laughed. “Even I have some morals.”
    “I doubt it. Do you know what the boys from cleanup call you?” Conran‟s voice
    sounded tight. He wanted to hurt Kael now and was working up to an insult of his
    own.
    “I‟m sure you‟ll tell me.”
    “The black widow.”
    “Nice,”