Requiem for an Assassin

And his body, she realized. He kept in shape and was always light on his feet, but now he looked almost too ready, with his shoulders rolling slightly and his head swiveling, eyes logging details as he moved. It was all back, as if the months in Paris had been suddenly emptied out of him, leaving the killer ascendant.
    He sat down and glanced at her, then scanned the café.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “Hilger’s got Dox.”
    “What do you mean, ‘got’?” she asked, feeling the blood drain from her face, already suspecting the worst.
    “Rendered him. Kidnapped him. They’re holding him on a boat somewhere. I got a message from them on the bulletin board I use with Dox. I don’t know what they did to make him give it up and I’m trying not to imagine. I…”
    He stopped for a moment as though confused. “I have to go. But I thought I should tell you.”
    “Of course you should tell me. What were you going to do, just disappear without saying a word?” Even as she said it, she knew that was precisely what he had almost done. In fact, he had done it before. It was his realization that he had to account for himself, that he couldn’t just drop everything, that had produced his confused expression.
    He didn’t say anything, and she realized he was struggling just to stay there. “Where are you going?” she asked.
    “To meet Hilger.”
    “Are you crazy? He might have…”
    “Yes, I’ve already thought about all that. I’m taking steps to mitigate.”
    “He’s got you reacting. You need to slow it down.”
    “I know what I’m doing.”
    “John, don’t…”
    “Don’t tell me what to do. You run risks all the time, and you’ve never listened to me when I’ve asked you to get out.”
    “It’s different. My country…”
    “I don’t want to hear about your country. This is my friend.”
    He stood up. Suddenly she was afraid, and she didn’t even know of what. She said, “At least tell me where you’re going.”
    He shook his head. “I can’t.”
    She stood, too. “Let me help.”
    He shook his head again. “You’ve helped me too many times on too many things. This isn’t your problem.”
    “I’m not offering you charity, damn it. I care about Dox, too. And my organization has a score to settle with Hilger, don’t you realize? For killing Gil. I could call Boaz. He would help.”
    Boaz was a colleague, and an ally, too, a competent, dangerous field operative and bomb specialist with a deceptively easy laugh. Along with Gil, Boaz had brought Rain into the Manila op that initially had gone so wrong her organization tried to kill Rain for it.
    “I don’t trust Boaz,” he said.
    “I trust him.”
    “I don’t want him involved, or anyone else on his end. They wouldn’t care about saving Dox. Only killing Hilger.”
    “You’re wrong,” she said, but without conviction.
    She wanted to argue with him, but knew if she did he would just play tit-for-tat again. He was being stupid, and childish, and she didn’t know how to get through to him.
    She tried to think of something to say, some way of reasoning with him. But before she could, he turned and walked away. She watched, stunned. It was as though he’d already forgotten her.

8
    I HAD HOPED to sleep on the thirteen-hour flight from Frankfurt, but for a long time I couldn’t. My mind was too preoccupied with Dox, with where I was going, with what I was walking into. And with Delilah. Maybe I’d been too…abrupt with her. She’d only been trying to help. I should have been grateful, should have found a way to show her I was grateful. But her intentions, good as they were, wouldn’t overrule her organization’s imperatives. When Gil had gotten killed in Hong Kong, he’d been hunting me. The same kind of thing could easily happen here. And although the Mossad’s reasons for wanting me dead—a job that had gone sideways in Manila before I finished it in Hong Kong—no longer applied, I wasn’t enthusiastic about reappearing on the organization’s radar screen, either.
    Yeah, but Delilah herself could help. Discreetly. She’s helped before. Dox is her friend, too, like she said.
    Bullshit. She’s compromised. Look how devoted she is to her organization. How many times have you tried to convince her to leave?
    But I trust her. If I thought she would say anything about the two of us, to be safe I’d have to leave Paris. Leave her.
    That’s different. She has no obligation to them about you. Hilger killed one of