Merrick's Eleventh Hour

So who did she believe? The husband who had betrayed her years ago, or the husband who had kept her safe for twenty years?

Johanna heard the cruiser’s engine back off. She climbed off the berth and looked out the window. What she saw sent a cold chill up her spine—a crescent-shaped cove caged in by jagged rocks.

She had the answer to her question. Adolf was lying. This was where he was going to kill her.

A storm at sea hadn’t been part of Merrick’s plan, but as he skirted the southern tip of Rhodes it was evident that one was brewing. Buffeted against the wind, he dropped anchor in the cove and went below deck. For the next two hours he worked at the table on the second stage of his plan and, when he was finished, he held the ring up to the light and smiled.

“Game on, Cyrus. I made my move, and now it’ll be your turn very soon.”

The ring back in his pocket, he debated calling Sully but quickly dismissed the idea. He sat at the table and stared at the door to the stateroom for another hour, then stood and unlocked it.

He found Johanna curled up on the berth, her long hair shielding her face, her inhaler next to her. He glanced around the room. She had rifled through his belongings. He’d slipped the picture of her into one of the drawers beneath the berth. It was now on the floor, and he bent down, picked it up and slipped it into his back pocket like a kid guarding his favorite baseball card.

“Wake up,” he said.

She stirred from sleep and sat up, sweeping her hair out of those beautiful eyes. She scooted back into the berth.

No, he needed her alive to make his plan work.

“Are you going to kill me now?”

“If that was the goal I would have popped you in the taxi, along with your housekeeper. Instead I bought her two tickets out of Greece.”

“So you say.”

“Where’s Cyrus?”

“I’m not going to play your game, Adolf.”

“Why not? You’ve been playing his for years. How long were you screwing him before the two of you decided to run off together?”

She looked confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I met Cyrus the day you gave the order to have me kidnapped from my car and killed in that warehouse. Your men drugged me, and when I woke up I was bound with explosives strapped to some kind of steel slab. Cyrus found me before the explosives were set to go off.”

“He just happened by at the right moment?” Merrick laughed. “They say timing is everything, but that’s a bit hard to swallow, honey.”

“I don’t care what you think. I know what happened. Cyrus saved my life.”

“So he’s your hero.”

“I’m alive because of him.”

“What reason did he give you that I wanted you dead?”

“Onyxx business. A conspiracy you believed I was involved in?”

“What conspiracy?”

“He told me that my boss at the art gallery was a Russian spy. That you’d been onto him for years. That’s why you married me. That you’d found evidence that I was working with him.”

“Were you ever working as a spy?”

“No.”

“Then how could I have found evidence that you were? There was no conspiracy, Johanna. If you were abducted, it was Cyrus who ordered it, not me.”

“You’re lying.”

She seemed so damn sure about what had happened. Adamant that he had tried to kill her. Had she met Cyrus for the first time in the warehouse? Suddenly he knew it was true. She was speaking the truth. At least her version of what she believed happened.

“I overheard those men talking when I came to in the warehouse. They were talking about how you wanted me to die.”

“They were Cyrus’s men, not mine. He’s an international criminal, Johanna. A rogue agent from Onyxx. He had you kidnapped and put in that warehouse.”

“No! It was you,” she screamed at him. “You wanted me dead. Go to hell, Adolf, and take your lies with you!”

“I’ve spent years in hell, Johanna. It’s familiar territory.” He reached out and pulled her off the berth and roughly hauled her to her feet. She cried out, and he let go of her before he could do something he would regret. “That you would think I could kill you is—”

“You’re no saint…Icis. That’s right. I know all about your days as an assassin. That part of your life you neglected to mention when you married me.” She had climbed back on the berth and wrapped her arms around herself. “I saw your file. Before Onyxx you were a hired killer.”

“It’s true, I was a government assassin. A mercenary for hire before that. Cyrus used that information to cast doubt so you would believe him, Johanna. He used you.”

“No.”

“Yes, and you doubled his reward by climbing into bed with him and giving him a son. That must have made him laugh all the harder.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Merrick pulled his phone from his pocket. He’d downloaded the e-mail he’d received years ago from Cyrus. He hit the keypad then grabbed her hand and placed the phone in it. “Take a look, Johanna. That’s what Cyrus sent me the day you disappeared…shopping. The day he let me believe he had killed you. That and four little words. Game on. Your move. I watched my wife die on a computer screen, and for twenty years until two days ago, I believed it was true. He did that. Your hero did that!”

Chapter 4

Cyrus got the call on the island. He’d just finished running Erik through a tactical course that would have killed him a year ago. He pulled his phone from his fatigues and saw that it was Kipler.

“What is it? I told you I didn’t want to be interrupted. It better be a life-altering problem or—”

“They’re gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“Callia and Zeta. One of the guards took them to Kerkyra and they never returned to the car.”

Cyrus glanced at Erik, then walked far enough away to keep from being overheard. “What the hell do you mean they never returned to the car?”

“They were shopping at the market square. When they didn’t come back to the car after two hours, Endre went searching for them. He called me after he couldn’t find them. I’ve sent the men out to search the town, but they’re not having any luck.”

“What time did they leave the house?”

“Midmorning.”