Chapter Twenty-Six
Alyson was surprised by her dad’s change of mood when he came out of the den after talking with Niko. He seemed in agreement with plans made during the male confab as he relayed them to Gwen and her. They would spend nights in a safe house. Not the one she’d stayed at, but a larger one in a different location.
“Buttercup, your young man convinced me you’d be safer here for a while. Don’t like it none, but your safety’s what’s important.” He settled next to Viviana on one of the sofas.
“Of course she’ll be safer with my Niko watching over her. I’m glad you’re wise enough to see that. May I get you some champagne, Tony? We’re having a girl’s celebration, but there’s always room for a handsome man.” Viviana flashed a smile, and darned if her dad didn’t return it with a smile of his own—and a wink.
Alyson’s head swiveled to gape at Gwen. Her sister slapped her hand over her eyes and shook her head once.
Conversation flowed as did the champagne.
When Jean-Luc returned from wherever he secretly hurried off to, he sat next to Alyson, a small white bag in his hand. “You ever wear contacts?” He removed a little box from the bag.
“Yes, for years until I had laser surgery to correct my astigmatism . Why do you ask?”
“Good. That’ll make all this easier on you. Niko thought you could further change your looks with colored contacts. That’s where I went on my errand. I bought some saline solution, too. I chose brown since most people have brown eyes, plus the color goes with your darker hair.”
Alyson inserted them with practiced movements. She blinked a couple times, wiping away the natural tears that trickled down. “How do I look?”
Gwen stood in front of her. “Let me see? Oh, they really do change your appearance. Don’t you think so, Dad? Between the new hairdo and darker eyes, I don’t see how anyone could recognize you.”
Her dad leaned forward in his seat. “Darned if Gingersnap ain’t right. See what Niko thinks, Buttercup.”
“Gingersnap? Buttercup?” Jean-Luc snickered.
His reaction obviously irked her dad. “Don’t suppose your parents ever had pet names for you as you were comin’ up. I’ll give you one: no neck.”
“Dad!” Gwen jumped to Jean-Luc’s defense. Was everyone pairing off here? Dad and Viviana. Gwen and Jean-Luc. Frankly, the situation was rather comical.
“Easy now, old man.” Jean-Luc extended a hand in a stop gesture.
“Old man!” her dad sputtered, his face turning crimson.
Viviana placed a hand on his arm. “Walk out on the balcony with me, Tony, so I can get some fresh air. I feel a slight headache coming on. Allow me to show you the lovely view we have of the Notre Dame Cathedral. My husband fell in love with the view when we were hunting for a larger apartment to raise our growing family.” The two walked out, but not before her dad’s eyes shot daggers at Jean-Luc one more time.
The younger man had the good sense to wait until Dad and Viviana stepped onto the balcony before he chuckled. “I like him. You always know where you stand with a man like that. No pretense. Just honesty. I like that. Rudeness I can handle. Kind of an expert on it myself.”
He stood, crumpling the bag in his massive hands. “Come on. I want the boss to see you in those contacts.” He led the way to the den and opened the door.
Niko’s back was to them. The television screen filled with a beautiful woman sitting at an outdoor café. She was talking, animated, almost angry in her attitude. Alyson’s heart stuttered. That voice! A cold chill raced up her spine, slapped her in the back of the head and ran back down.
“Who…who is she? I know that voice,” she whispered to Jean-Luc.
“Damn, I thought he was through with this obsession. That’s Hae-Won.” He, too, kept his voice lowered.
She squinted, focusing on the woman’s face when the camera zoomed in. She turned to Jean-Luc and grabbed his arms. “It’s her! She’s the smallest of the gunmen who took me. The one who threatened to shoot baby Olivia.”
Jean-Luc’s gaze slid from hers to the television screen and back to hers again. He blinked several times as if computing the information. “You’re sure about this?
Alyson studied the woman on the screen and began trembling with recognition. Hae-Won was the woman who shot her. In the video, the younger woman, evidently angry, flicked her long black hair over her shoulder with a movement of her wrist. “Fool, your baseless arrogance fuels my hatred.”
When Alyson turned to the man beside her, his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. She led Jean-Luc away from the doorway, and he gently closed the door. “Did you hear that remark? The one about his arrogance fueling her hatred? She said the same thing to me. The exact same words in the same exact way.”
“Come into the kitchen with me.” Jean-Luc took her arm and led her away from the man she loved. The man so engrossed in watching a video of his lost love he never registered their presence in the same room. He’d been oblivious to everything but the image of Hae-Won.
“You’re sure about this?” Jean-Luc plucked an apple from a basket on the counter.
“Yes. Same voice. Same eyes. Same face. Granted it was dark when I yanked off her ski mask, but I saw enough to recognize her.”
Jean-Luc bit into the apple and chewed. “If you’re right, that would mean…”
“Right. That would mean Hae-Won is alive. Not only that, but she’s part of the terrorist ring. One of the leaders by the way she acted.” Her mind raced with all the possible scenarios. “I wonder if Hae-Won joined The Red Hand before or after she met Niko. Was she using him all along, do you think? Was their whole affair a sham?”
The muscled man scowled at her as he decimated the apple, obviously weighing her questions and forming his own opinions.
“We never saw her body. We were told it was shipped to her home in Korea and her parents had her cremated. I wondered at the time if their culture, their religion permitted that. Some cultures are funny about the care of deceased family members. But my focus at the time was on Niko. We weren’t sure if doctors could save his leg. His emotional state over losing Hae-Won was so damned fragile. His mother still doesn’t know I put him on suicide watch.”
Niko told her of his love for this young woman. In the video, she appeared beautiful and vibrant. Alyson felt older and tattered. She fought to retain the progress she’d made in her feminine rebirth. Still, a dread crept in.
“Now that I think about it, the pattern is the same.” Jean-Luc tossed the apple core into the trash. At her questioning look, he continued. “Dembri faked his death and we stopped looking for him. Now, there’s a good chance Hae-Won did the same thing. If you’re sure…”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. The sight of Niko, leaning forward, engrossed in that video of Hae-Won destroyed something in her. The heartache she felt over Chaz’s betrayal was nothing compared to this. Getting over this would involve more strength than she could muster at this time. Maybe next month, next year, but not now.
Right now, she could barely gulp in enough air to keep from passing out. Her stomach cramped. Dear Lord she fell for a man in love with another woman. He still grieved for Hae-Won after two years. What was she? A willing substitute? Second best?
“Alyson?” Jean-Luc touched her shoulder. “Are you sure?”
She closed her eyes for a minute and remembered. “When the gunmen and I left here that night, I knew I would die. After all, they, or someone in their organization, just killed Giselle.”
“Yes, you’re right. Recall the scene for me. Describe it in every detail.”
She kept her eyes closed. “Like I said, I knew they would kill me. Made me mad as hell, so I put on a mantle of major attitude like a wool coat. I charged down the steps ahead of them, thinking and planning. I wanted to get them off this property before they killed me. I didn’t want the Reynard family to live with that memory. The female yelled at me to stop or they’d shoot. I told her I wasn’t trying to run away.” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Her stomach clenched and she felt sick. What would this do to Niko? To them? Her knees grew weak and she stumbled. Jean-Luc wrapped his arm around her shoulders to steady her.
“I held the door open for them. Acted all brave and bitchy. The larger of the gunmen stepped outside, but the smaller one, the female, came face to face with me. I saw the hatred in her dark eyes, the same eyes on that screen just now. The woman stepped closer, within mere inches, and said, ‘Fool, your baseless arrogance fuels my hatred.’ The same phrase Hae-Won uttered in that video Niko couldn’t tear his concentration from.”
A wounded sound drew their attention. Both turned toward the noise. Niko stood there, eyes wide. His face, a portrait of incredulity. Although his mouth worked, no words emerged. Pain filled his eyes. The color drained from his face. Then he visibly tensed as if gaining control. Anger replaced the pain in his eyes. They hardened. His anger became so palpable, she felt as if it reached out and slapped her.
“What the hell are you saying?” The sharpness of his voice cut her.
Jean-Luc stepped between them. “Alyson recognized Hae-Won’s voice on the video you were watching.”
“That’s impossible! She died two years ago, long before Aly came here.”
“We never saw her body, buddy.”
Niko glared at his friend for a minute before turning his gaze on her. “Aly, what the hell are you implying?”
Her heart beat so fast, she grew unsteady. Spots danced in her vision field. This continual nightmare grew more grotesque by the hour. She reached a hand out to the counter to steady herself. “Jean-Luc, would you leave us alone, please?”
“You sure?” Jean-Luc tipped her chin up with two fingers and studied her face.
“Your job isn’t to protect her. That’s my job.”
“Then get your head out of your ass and pay attention. Start weighing the facts. Hae-Won manipulated you. That time you rescued her from a gang of ruffians in the hotel bar in Kuwait? I bet that whole scene was staged to reel you in.”
“Bullshit!” Niko’s hands fisted. “I would have known. I’m trained to know when I’m being played.”
“Hey, any man can yield when sex is dangled in front of him the way she tempted you.”
Oh dear God, I do not want to hear this. She turned and started to walk away.
“That continual bitching about your job was, no doubt, intended to turn you against our government. It was all planned. All designed to undermine your loyalty to France.”
Niko charged and punched Jean-Luc in the face.
At the sound of flesh striking flesh, Alyson gasped and turned. Her eyes barely comprehended what they saw.
Poor Jean-Luc had no clue Niko wrestled with that very fact for two years. Only in a different context; Niko felt he betrayed his country by leaving Hae-Won alone with confidential information. Niko struck him again.
Alyson grabbed Niko’s arm. “Don’t do this! This man saved your life. You’ve been together since childhood.”
“Stay the hell away!” Niko raged, his eyes wild.
Jean-Luc wiped blood from his busted lip. “That’s twice I let you hit me. Next time you take a swing at me, I’ll bust your balls. Hae-Won was a bitch. Everyone saw it but you.”
Niko lunged, coiling his hands around his best friend’s throat. “You will not talk about Hae-Won like that. She is not alive. She wasn’t a part of Red Hand. It’s lies, all lies! She was a beautiful person. She…” He released his hold on Jean-Luc and held his hands wide as he stepped back. “It’s a lie.” His breathing was rapid and his face feral with a jumble of agonizing emotions.
Alyson shrunk back from the physical and verbal exchange between Niko and Jean-Luc. Was this man she loved so emotionally tied to Hae-Won he’d fight his best friend? Did anyone mean as much to him as his supposedly dead lover?
“Think it through, man.” Jean-Luc, it appeared, held no animosity toward Niko. “Alyson said the woman in the ski mask uttered the same phrase to her Hae-Won said to you in the video. The same phrase I heard her say to you during her rants. She possessed many of the attitudes of a terrorist—explosive, single-minded, judgmental.”
Niko shook his head. “No. She was good. She was all things good.”
Alyson’s heart shattered. Even now, in death, Hae-Won was more important than she. Niko’s response nailed shut the coffin of her feelings. Now she, too, would mourn. “Jean-Luc, how soon can you get a French passport for me under the name of Cally Aukland? I’m going home when my family leaves.” She turned and walked out of the kitchen.