Final Target
Iris Johansen
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Praise
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Look for Reap the Wind, on sale 8/27/02
Bantam Books by Iris Johansen
Copyright Page
To Linda Howard, Catherine Coulter, Kay Hooper, and Fayrene Preston. Fantastic writers and the very best friends. Thanks for all the wonderful years, guys.
PRAISE FOR THE BESTSELLING NOVELS OF IRIS JOHANSEN
FINAL TARGET
“A winning page-turner that will please old and new fans alike.”
—Booklist
“A compelling tale.”
—The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
“ Thrilling . . . will have fans of the author ecstatic and bring Ms. Johansen new readers.”
—Bookbrowser
THE SEARCH
“Thoroughly gripping and with a number of shocking plot twists . . . [Johansen] has packed all the right elements into this latest work: intriguing characters; a creepy, crazy villain; a variety of exotic locations.”
—New York Post
“Johansen’s thrillers ooze enough testosterone to suggest she also descends from the house of Robert Ludlum. Johansen pushes the gender boundary in popular fiction, offering up that rarity: a woman’s novel for men.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Fans of Iris Johansen will pounce on The Search. And they’ll be rewarded.”
—USA Today
“A spine-tingler.”
—The Miami Herald
“Sabotage, dangerous secrets, and lots of dark action characterize Johansen’s enthralling thriller.”
—Abilene Reporter-News
THE KILLING GAME
“Johansen is at the top of her game . . . an enthralling cat-and-mouse game . . . perfect pacing . . . the suspense holds until the very end.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Most satisfying.”
—Daily News, New York
“[A] Fast-paced, clever suspense novel that kept me intrigued to the end. In fact, I read it in one sitting.”
—The Roanoke Times
“An intense whodunit that will have you gasping for breath.”
—The Tennessean
“For a well-plotted thrill-a-minute read, you can’t go wrong with this one.”
—The Pilot, Southern Pines, NC
THE FACE OF DECEPTION
“One of her best . . . a fast-paced, nonstop, clever plot in which Johansen mixes political intrigue, murder, and suspense.”
— USA Today
“The book’s twists and turns manage to hold the reader hostage until the denouement, a sure crowd pleaser.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Johansen keeps her story moving at breakneck speed.”
—The Daily Sun, Chicago
“This is a great mystery with exciting twists and turns.”
—The Sunday Advocate Magazine, Baton Rouge
AND THEN YOU DIE
“Iris Johansen keeps the reader intrigued with complex characters and plenty of plot twists. The story moves so fast, you’ll be reading the epilogue before you notice.”
—People
“Fans of Mary Higgins Clark will enjoy Iris Johansen’s latest, a supercharged thriller. There’s peril, romance, and suspense aplenty as the good guys face the clock to stop the villains.”
—Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine
“A well-crafted romance thriller.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“From the first page, the reader is pulled into a realm of danger, intrigue, and suspense with a touch of romance and enough twists and turns to gladden the hearts of all of her readers.”
—Library Journal
LONG AFTER MIDNIGHT
“Iris Johansen is incomparable.”
—Tami Hoag, New York Times bestselling author of Ashes to Ashes
“One of the most thrilling books I have curled up with in a long time.”
—Michael Palmer, New York Times bestselling author of Silent Treatment and Critical Judgment
“You’ll be racing through to the last page.”
—Catherine Coulter, New York Times bestselling author of The Maze
“Flesh-and-blood characters, crackling dialogue and lean, suspenseful plotting.”
—Publishers Weekly
“A lively, engrossing ride by a strong new voice in the romantic suspense genre.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Excellent reading.”
—Booklist
THE UGLY DUCKLING
“A real knockout . . . [an] intense thriller . . . bravo!”
—The Atlanta Journal
“[A] spectacular tale of revenge, betrayal, and survival.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Outstanding. A real page-turner. Many will add [Iris Johansen’s] name to their list of favorite authors.”
—Associated Press
“A well-executed story that deftly provides chilling suspense.”
—Library Journal
“Iris Johansen keeps readers turning pages to the book’s suspenseful conclusion.”
—San Antonio Express-News
“A successful hardcover debut. As Johansen quick-cuts back and forth between the good guys and the bad, in tried-and-true Sheldonesque style, the plot eventually delivers just deserts to all—thanks to inventive surprises.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“A fascinating, compelling drama with myriad strands of intrigue swirling around a heroine who will let nothing stop her in her quest for vengeance.”
—Linda Howard
“A fabulous, tension-packed romantic suspense novel with seething emotions and deadly secrets that lure the reader into a fascinating web of intricate design.”
—Kay Hooper
“In Johansen’s hands, the romantic suspense genre is done a good turn.”
—Booklist
Prologue
September
Vasaro, France
Wind Dancer.
Get to the Wind Dancer.
Blood was everywhere.
He was coming toward her.
Cassie screamed and ran from the bedroom.
“Come back here!” The man in the ski mask leapt after her.
Her white nightgown flying, she ran down the hall and the stairs, her breath catching as sobs choked her. She had to get to the Wind Dancer. She would be safe if she could just get to it.
“Stop that kid, dammit.” The man was now leaning over the banister. The man who had shot Pauley in her bedroom after Pauley had thrown himself in front of her. He was yelling at the three masked men in the hall below. More blood. More bodies lying on the floor . . .
She stopped in terror a few steps from the bottom. Daddy . . .
But Mama and Daddy weren’t here. They were in Paris. She was alone in the house with Jeanne, her nurse, and the Secret Service men. Where was Jeanne?
“Come, little one.” There she was, standing in the doorway to the study. The Wind Dancer was in the study too. She wo
uld be safe if she could get to it.
Jeanne smiled. “Come, Cassie.”
Couldn’t she see that those three men were between her and the study? But maybe she could get past them. The study was to the left of the staircase. She jumped over the banister and landed running.
“Clever girl.” Jeanne whisked her into the study and locked the door.
Cassie threw herself into Jeanne’s arms. “He shot Pauley. I woke up and he was standing by the bed and . . . Pauley was bleeding. . . .”
Jeanne patted her back. “I know, Cassie. It must have been terrible for you. But you’re with me now.”
Cassie’s arms tightened around her in panic. “They’re in the hall. They’ll break down the door. They’ll shoot us.”
“They won’t shoot us. Don’t I always protect you?” She gently pushed her away. She nodded at the Wind Dancer on the pedestal in the corner. “Now go and see your friend while I think of something to do.”
“I’m scared, Jeanne. They’ll break down the door and—”
“Stop crying.” She turned away. “Trust me, Cassie.”
She couldn’t stop crying. She did trust Jeanne, but they would come in. Nothing could stop them.
The Wind Dancer.
She ran across the room and looked up at the statue. They needed magic and everyone said the statue had magic. Cassie knew it did. She always felt it whenever she was near the Wind Dancer. Even though this wasn’t the real statue, Daddy had said the hologram was like it in every way. So surely it had enough magic to save them.
“Help us,” she whispered. “Please. They’re going to hurt us.”
The Pegasus stared at her with brilliant emerald eyes that seemed to know everything. It would be all right. The warmth that always comforted her when she was with the statue was gradually banishing the chill. She had Jeanne and the Wind Dancer. Nothing could hurt her. They would be safe now that—
A knock at the door.
She whirled to face it. Jeanne was walking toward the door, she realized in horror.
“No.”
“Hush.”
She ran across the room. “No, Jeanne. He’s going to—”
Jeanne pushed her aside and opened the door.
It was him, the man in the mask. “I told you—”
“It’s about time,” Jeanne said. “Where the hell have you been, Edward?”
“Finishing up. This place was teeming with Secret Service. I knew you had her secure, so I took care of business.” He walked into the study. “The helicopter is coming. I’m ready for the kid now.”
“Then take her. Get it over with.” Jeanne crossed her arms over her chest. “This night has left a nasty taste in my mouth.”
“Because you’re such a delicate soul. But not too delicate to take the money and run.” He looked at Cassie. “Come on, Cassie. We have places to go and people to see.”
“Jeanne?” She backed away from him. “Jeanne, help me. . . .”
“Go with him. He won’t hurt you as long as you mind him like a good girl.” Her voice was hard, not like Jeanne’s at all.
This man had shot Pauley and left him lying on the rug of her bedroom with the blood pouring out of his chest. How could Jeanne say he wouldn’t hurt her? How could she tell her to go with him? Why was she looking at Cassie that way? “Daddy,” she whimpered. “Daddy.”
The man’s green eyes gleamed through the slits in the ski mask as he came toward her. “Daddy’s not here. No one’s here to take care of you, so don’t cause me any trouble.”
She kept on backing away. “Jeanne?”
“Stop it,” Jeanne said harshly. “I can’t help you. I don’t want to help you. Go with him.”
Cassie felt the cold marble of the Wind Dancer pedestal touch her back, and she suddenly felt a surge of hope. “No, I won’t go. You can’t make me go. He won’t let you.”
“He?”
“She’s nuts about that crummy statue,” Jeanne said. “She thinks the damn thing can do anything.”
“Crummy?” He stared at the hologram. “That’s almost sacrilege, Jeanne. It’s magnificent. Have you no appreciation?”
“I appreciate the money the thing could bring us.”
“But it’s not real and Cassie is very real. Go get her.”
“Get her yourself.”
“If you want to be on that helicopter, you’ll earn your passage.”
“I’ve already earned it. You’d never have been able to do this if I hadn’t given you the setup and opened—” She met his gaze. “Oh, very well.” She strode across the room. “Come along, Cassie. You can’t fight us. You’ll only be hurt if you do.”
Take me away, Cassie prayed. Take me away. Take me away.
Jeanne put a hand on her shoulder.
Take me away.
“You don’t want him to shoot you like he did Pauley? He’ll do it. You have to mind him or—”
“She doesn’t seem to believe you,” the man said softly. “I think she needs another example.”
“What do you—”
Jeanne’s head exploded.
Cassie screamed as brain matter splattered her chest. She crouched on the floor, her gaze on Jeanne’s ruined face.
Take me away.
“Stop screaming.”
Take me away.
“Stand up.” He reached down and jerked her to her feet. “You shouldn’t mind my getting rid of her. She insulted your friend the Wind Dancer, and she was a Judas. Once a Judas, always a Judas. Do you know what a Judas is, little girl?”
Take me away. Take me away. Take me away.
It was happening. He was fading, as if he were at the end of a long tunnel.
“But I won’t do that to you if you don’t cause me problems. Just do what I tell you and it will— What the shit!”
Gunshots.
He let go of her and ran out into the hall.
She sank back down on the floor next to Jeanne. Blood. Death. Judas. She wasn’t afraid any longer. She was going away. She was the one in the tunnel now and the darkness didn’t frighten her. As long as she stayed in the tunnel, nothing could touch her and she’d be safe. With every moment she was moving deeper into that darkness.
“Cassie?”
A man was kneeling before her. No mask. Dark eyes like her daddy. “I’m Michael Travis. The bad people have gone away. You’re safe now. I’m going to touch you and check to make sure you’re not hurt. Is that okay?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to be afraid any longer. He’d made the monsters go away. Soon he would go away too, but it didn’t matter what happened outside the tunnel.
She felt his hands on her arms and legs and then they were gone.
“Come on, baby.” His lips tightened as he glanced at Jeanne. “Let’s get you out of here. I’ll take you into the kitchen and we’ll get you cleaned up while we wait for your mom and dad.” He picked her up and moved toward the door. “I know it’s hard to believe, but everything’s going to be okay.”
It wasn’t hard to believe. Not now. In the tunnel, everything was shadow and she wasn’t afraid of shadows. As they reached the doorway, she looked over Michael’s shoulder at the Wind Dancer. Emerald eyes stared at her across the room. Strange. They looked fierce and cruel like the picture of the dragon in the book Daddy had given her. But her Wind Dancer was never cruel.
And nothing else was cruel anymore either. Not here. Not now.
But just to be sure, she went even deeper into the tunnel.
1
May
Cambridge,
Massachusetts
“I’m sorry to have to throw this at you during finals, Melissa.” Karen Novak’s voice was hesitant. “If there was any other way . . .”
“You want me to move out.” It was no surprise. Melissa had known the decision was coming.
“Just until you have this problem under control. We’ve scouted out an efficiency for you about a block from here. You can move in right away.”
&
nbsp; Melissa turned to her other roommate. “Wendy?”
Wendy Sendle nodded miserably. “We think you’d be better off in an apartment by yourself.”
“And you certainly would be better off without me.” She held up a hand as Wendy opened her mouth to protest and said gently, “It’s okay. I understand. I’m not blaming you. I’ll pack up and be out by tonight.”
“You don’t have to be in a hurry. Tomorrow would be—” Wendy broke off as Karen gave her a pointed glance. “We’ll be glad to help you pack.”
Melissa had known they wouldn’t want to risk another night with her. “Thank you.” She tried to smile. “Now, stop looking so guilty. We’ve been friends for years. This isn’t going to change anything.”
“I hope not,” Karen said. “You know we love you. We took it as long as we could, Melissa.”
“I know. You’ve been very tolerant.” She should have moved out weeks ago, but she’d felt safe here. “I’ll just go into the bathroom and pack my toiletries.”
“Melissa, have you ever thought of going back to Juniper?” Wendy moistened her lips. “Maybe your sister can help you.”
“I’ll think about it. Right now Jessica’s pretty busy with a new job.”
“You’re very close. If she knew, I think she’d put her project on hold.”
“It’s hard to put off. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” She closed the bathroom door behind her and leaned against it, her heart pounding. Calm down. So she’d be alone tonight. Maybe it wouldn’t happen. Maybe it would go away.
But it hadn’t gone away in the last few weeks. It had started hazy and far away, barely discernible in the swirling darkness. But lately it kept coming closer. She knew she’d be able to see it clearly soon.
Oh, God, don’t let her see it.
Juniper, Virginia
“Cassie’s had another nightmare,” Teresa Delgado said as she stood in the doorway of Jessica’s bedroom. “A bad one.”
“They’re all bad.” Jessica Riley rubbed her eyes before she sat up and reached for her robe. “You didn’t leave her alone?”
“There are other people around here who know their jobs besides you. Rachel’s with her.” She made a face. “But Cassie might as well be alone. She’s curled up in a ball with her face to the wall. I tried to comfort her, but, as usual, Cassie’s acting as if she can’t hear me. As deaf as a fence post.”
“She’s not deaf.” Jessica passed her and started down the hall. “She’s aware of everything around her. She’s just rejecting it all. The only time she’s vulnerable and lets anything in is when she’s sleeping.”
