“Hello? …Hello? Zero, is that you?”
“Alan, I…”
“Jeez. What time is it?”
“Alan…”
“You sound half a mile away. Why are you whispering? Are you okay?”
“No. Maria…”
“ Zero. Did something happen? Tell me what happened.”
“Maria… she’s dead, Alan.”
“…What? What are you talking about? Zero, what are you talking about?”
“She’s dead.”
“No. No, she’s not. What? She’s there. You’re on your honeymoon. What?”
“On the beach. A man, in the dark. Had a knife.”
“When? When?”
“Don’t know. Maybe… two hours ago.”
“Shit. Are you su—? No. Fuck. I’m coming.”
“Don’t—”
“You sit tight, I’m coming—”
“Alan, no. I need you there.”
“Are you hurt?”
“…Yeah.”
“Where are you? Where are you hurt?”
“I mean… he didn’t get me. He was trying for me. It was meant for me. She pushed me. Jumped in front… oh god.”
“Okay. Okay. Okay. Zero, listen to me. I know you’re hurting, but please, stop crying for just a second. I’m coming—”
“No. I-I need you there.”
“Why? Why?”
“I need you to go to my house. The girls… Jesus. The girls, they deserve to know.”
“No. Absolutely not. That should come from you. They should hear it from you.”
“I can’t, Alan. I can’t. It took me… I don’t know how long, just to make this call. I can’t. It’s too hard.”
“Fine. Then come home. Come home now.”
“The resort is locked down. Cops are here. They’re looking for him.”
“And then? And then you’ll come home?”
“There are arrangements. They’ll… they’ll fly her body home. Someone should be there. When she gets there.”
“Come home, Zero.”
“Can’t. Locked down…”
“Zero, you come home as soon as you can, do you hear me?”
“Will you take care of her? And our girls? Like I asked?”
“Yeah. I will. Of course I will. But you should be here to do it, and not—”
“You’re a good friend, Alan. The best.”
“Zero, wait, don’t—”
“Goodbye Alan.”
*
Alan Reidigger stared at the phone for a long time.
So that was how Maria Johansson exited his life. After fifteen years, all it took was a two-minute phone call for her to be gone. Gone forever.
“Fuck,” he said again, and he rubbed his face and smoothed his beard. He turned off the television, where he’d been watching Die Hard on TCM, and dialed Strickland.
“Alan? Hey. What’s up?”
“Todd. You sitting?”
“Um…”
“Todd, who is it?” Penny’s voice in the background. Well—that mystery was solved. But no time to wonder at the moment how the straight-laced Boy Scout had scored the British punk-rock genius.
“Put me on speaker, Todd.” This was going to hurt. But so did ripping off a Band-Aid, and there was only one way to do it.
He told them. Todd was stricken silent and Alan gave them time to process, so the only sound for a short while was Penny’s sobs. Eventually they quieted, and Alan said: “I know. Trust me, I know. There’s nothing I can say, no condolences to offer that will make this any better. It’s… goddammit, it sucks. But I need you both listening. Are you listening?”
“Yeah,” Todd said.
“Todd—pack a bag. I want you after him. Now, tonight.”
“The killer? But we don’t know who—”
“No, Todd. I want you after Zero.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t.” Alan sighed. “After Kate’s murder, Zero… he went off the deep end. He tore a path across Eastern Europe and then some. They sent me and another agent after him. To kill him. I didn’t. We faked it. And there’s a lot more to the story that I just can’t get into right now. I just need you to find him, detain him, and bring him home.”
Todd hesitated. “This sounds like an overreaction. I mean, he’s at a resort in Nassau right now, isn’t he?”
“He won’t be for long.”
“I still don’t understand—”
I know you don’t understand, but I do, so let that be enough,” Alan said forcefully. “I would go after him myself, but I’m not as young as I used to be and I made a couple of promises that I have to keep. It would be better if you go. You could do it. You could stop him. Bring him home.”
Strickland sighed into the phone. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Penny? Are you listening?”
She sniffled. “Yes.”
“He has no resources and he won’t come to me. He’ll come to you. And you’ll say no. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Thank you. I’m sorry to ruin your night. Todd—bring him home.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Let’s just assume you can.”
Because if not, I’m not sure how we’ll stop the CIA from killing him this time around. Alan had used up his only trick the first time around.
He ended the call, and he thought back to that night on the Hohenzollern Bridge in Germany, where he and Agent Morris had finally found Zero. He had just been standing there, alone, looking out over the Rhine, and to Alan it had very much looked like he was thinking about jumping.
That was the night that Alan had told him about the experimental memory suppressor. It was Reidigger’s plan, one that didn’t require killing Zero and would allow him to raise his girls and have a job and a home and sink into relative obscurity right under the CIA’s noses. It was Reidigger who had stolen the tech for R&D. It was Reidigger who had located Dr. Guyer, the Swiss neurologist in Zurich who agreed to install the chip—at Zero’s acquiescence, of course—in exchange for the research it might yield.
And in an ironic twist of the knife, it was Reidigger who had inspired the agency to cease all work on the project and scrap all files on it, out of fear that a double agent had stolen the suppressor and might still be within their ranks.
He took his time putting on his shoes, locating his trucker cap and keys. He would have given anything to switch places with Strickland, to be the one getting on a plane and going after Zero. He would have given anything to have to hunt down and physically subdue his best friend, if it came to that, instead of what he had to do next.
But he’d made a promise. And he would keep it.