Trying to get back into the swing of this writing thing...
"It's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then." - Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
"Ah, excusez-moi de vous déranger, mademoiselle, mais…puis-je m'asseoir ici?"
Emily looked up and couldn't help the slightest widening of her eyes. "Oui," she answered quickly, putting down her newspaper and locking eyes with her former team leader.
"Merci," he said quickly, taking a seat across from her. He leaned back in the chair, as though he hadn't a care in the world.
"Pas de quoi," she answered with a wave of her hand, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized him.
"You look terrible," Clyde remarked with a raised eyebrow, switching into English.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded, trying her best to keep her tone calm and even.
"We have mutual interests in Paris," he replied cryptically before flagging down a waiter and ordering himself a crêpe and some tea.
Emily's breath hitched in her throat as the tiniest sliver of hope formed. She had assumed Clyde hadn't been looking for Doyle. After all, he needed to hide as much as she did…he was on Doyle's hit list too. "We do?" Clyde nodded. "How did you find me?"
"Doesn't matter."
Emily's eyes hardened. "Considering I'm currently in the business of trying to avoid certain individuals, I'd say it does matter. Very much so."
"We both know you're doing anything but avoiding certain individuals. It's far from a coincidence I found the two of you in the same city."
Emily glared in response.
"Oh, come now darling, you didn't expect me to believe you'd sit by idly waiting for an agency to pick him up, did you?"
"How did you even know I was alive?" she asked, glancing around subtly to make sure no one was paying any particular attention to them. She needn't have worried – the restaurant was nearly overloaded with tourists, all concerning themselves with their own meals and fellow travel companions.
"Keeping tabs on my former operatives is an important talent of mine."
Emily took a moment to collect her thoughts. "You're sure he's here? I'd only heard rumours…"
"It's definitely him," Clyde said with a nod of his head, maintaining eye contact with the steely-eyed brunette across from him.
She eyed him for a moment before responding. "I want in on the takedown."
"There is no takedown, darling. It's you and me. Quick and dirty."
"What the hell do you mean there's no takedown?" Emily hissed. "The man is an international terrorist and he's not on anyone's priority list for a takedown?!" She wasn't so naïve to believe her death by his hand would be cause for some organization to go after him with any more gusto, but she'd thought the string of high-profile murders in D.C. might have caught someone's attention, even if some time had passed since they had occurred.
"There are more pressing matters than a has-been arms dealer," Clyde said with a shrug. It unfortunately was very true. Doyle had slipped down people's lists when months passed with no leads. "Besides, it's been nearly a year since anyone heard from him, and even longer since your little battle with him."
Emily's hand unconsciously found its way to her stomach where the injuries from her last encounter with Ian Doyle were mostly healed, but still tender. "He needs to be dealt with."
"Don't I know it. So let's deal with him."
Emily stayed quiet as the waiter reappeared with Clyde's order. Clyde bade him a quick thanks, and watched him make a hasty exit back to the kitchen. Emily turned her attention back to Clyde. "Now?"
"What, you want to wait until he's disappeared again? C'mon, Emily. I can have the necessary equipment here by morning," he said, as he cut into his crêpe.
Emily looked around again at the mention of her name. Her paranoia and hyper-vigilance was still in full force, and hearing someone call her by her given name had her experiencing a wave of panic. "How many men does he have?" she asked cautiously.
"Nothing we can't handle."
"Clyde," Emily warned, in no mood to be trifled with.
"Maybe a half dozen or so guys, not heavily armed, and not that experienced. He's working with new, young guys looking to earn their respect since most of his remaining crew from the early days was wiped out in Boston."
Emily blinked as memories of that day flashed in her mind. Morgan's face as he pleaded with her to hold on and refused to let her go. Doyle's angry glare as he shoved the piece of wood into her gut, and then his desperate tone as he demanded to know where Declan was. The bright, fuzzy lights of ambulance as she drifted in and out of this world. The cold darkness when she'd left the world temporarily.
"Okay," she said with a heavy exhale. "You think we can do it?"
"Take out a few goons, and put a bullet between his eyes? Nothing to it. We've handled worse," he said confidently with that familiar hint of arrogance in his tone.
"Okay," Emily said slowly with a nod. She'd spent a month recuperating before deciding she couldn't sit and wait around for somebody else to deal with Doyle. So she'd kept her ear to the ground and quietly began searching him out. It had been slow at first since she was unable to use any of her old contacts, but eventually she'd caught onto his trail and had followed him, crisscrossing across Europe before finally tracking him back to Paris. Now, after over a year and a half, she'd have the chance to silence her fears and make sure Declan would be safe. Now she'd get to end things on her terms, and not his. "Let's do it," she said.
"I was hoping you'd say that," Clyde said with a smile. "It's been too long since we've suited up next to each other."
"Where is he hiding out?"
"He's holed up in an old house that's been converted for multiple tenants. It's empty except for him and his men. He doesn't have any guys with him in his actual flat, but he's got a few posted in and around the entrance to the building."
"Easy enough to deal with. Any bodies inside the building itself?"
Clyde nodded. "Yeah, a few floaters in the flat below his.
"Let me guess, he's on the top floor?"
"Right in one."
"Cameras?"
"None. He isn't expecting to be watched since he's dropped off almost everyone's radar. And of course he's still arrogant that he can't be found."
"Okay," Emily said quietly. Slowly the realization was sinking in that he was within her reach. "So what's the plan?"
"We go in tomorrow night at 2am." Emily's eyes widened in shock but she nodded in understanding. "You're sure you want to do this?"
"Yes. I'm tired of running, Clyde. We end this now. For good."
"All right. We'll go over the finer details tomorrow morning. Get some sleep. You look like hell."
"Gee, thanks. You always did know how to make a girl feel special, Clyde."
"Just a part of my irresistible charm," Clyde said, shooting her a wink and reminding Emily painfully of a certain flirtatious former partner of hers. "Shall we meet here for breakfast tomorrow?"
She shook her head vehemently. "No, let's meet somewhere else."
"Do you remember that little café Tsia took us to?" Emily nodded sadly as memories of her former teammate and close friend flooded her mind. "How about there? 9 o'clock?" Clyde suggested gently.
"Okay," Emily agreed, rising to her feet and turning to leave. She took a few steps toward the exit, but paused and turned back to face Clyde. "Is he safe?" she asked quietly, her mind overwhelmed with memories of the young blond boy that had captured her heart.
"I don't know," Clyde answered honestly. "I didn't look for him…I thought it safer that way."
She closed her eyes and nodded, letting out a breath slowly.
"But I'm betting your team's got that covered," he said quietly, watching her response carefully. He expected a nod or a smile, but she kept a neutral face, clearly having shut her emotions up tightly. "I meant what I said, darling. Get some sleep tonight, you need it."
"I'll sleep when there's a bullet between his eyes," she said firmly, her jaw tensing noticeably before she turned to leave.
"And that can't be soon enough," Clyde muttered as he watched her exit the restaurant and slip into the afternoon crowd, disappearing from his sight again, just like so many times before.
"How'd you get this stuff so quickly?" Emily asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically as her eyes took in the list of the various weapons he'd managed to procure overnight. They'd met for breakfast, but Emily's paranoia at being overheard had convinced her they needed to find a place with a little more privacy to discuss the details. So they'd paid cash to a local bookstore owner to use the flat above the shop for a few hours. Emily figured Doyle and his men were less likely to go poking around in a bookstore than a pub or motel.
Clyde smirked. "Once I found him, I had a feeling you'd be up for taking him on, so I may have done a bit of pre-emptive dealing."
"I should have known," she said while shaking her head.
"Yes," he agreed. "You should have. But let's sort this out, shall we?"
She nodded and focused on the files set on the table. "So we said 2am tonight. Any changes in his security?"
Clyde shook his head. "None. He's staying holed up."
"And you're sure he'll be there?"
"As sure as I can be. This time tomorrow, Doyle won't be a problem anymore, I promise."
Emily let out a slow breath. "You're sure we can pull this off? You don't think we need more time to put together a plan?"
"It's not all that complex. We go in quietly, take out his goons, and then put a bullet between his eyes. If he had more men with him, then I'd say we wait and do a little more recon, but this is as good an opportunity as we're going to get."
Emily nodded. "Okay. What's the layout of the house like?"
"Very simple. Divided into three separate sections, but a staircase connects the three floors. Doyle's on the third floor, and his men are on the second floor for the most part."
"Can we get to the third floor without going through the house?"
"No – only entrance is using that main staircase."
"And is it possible to sneak past the second floor?"
"Theoretically, yes. But I'm doubtful – it's an old house…" Clyde trailed off.
"Ah, creaky stairs," Emily said knowingly. "Damn. So we have to take out the men on the second floor first?"
"Not necessarily. Doyle's bound to hear the creaking as well, so we just need to decide whether to work from the top floor down, or from the bottom up. So what do you fancy?"
Emily thought for a moment, weighing their options. "Doyle's the target – let's take him out first, then we can fight our way back down," she said finally.
Clyde nodded in agreement. "Right. I assume you want to do the honours?"
Emily nodded immediately. There was no question in her mind – she wanted to watch the life drain from the man who'd haunted her nightmares and caused her so much pain. She had to see it with her own eyes. She had to be sure.
"So you deal with the angry Irishman, and I'll fend off the goons until you're ready to lend me a hand, yeah?"
"I guess so," Emily said as her gaze drifted around the room. It didn't quite seem real that in a matter of hours she'd be confronting her nemesis.
"I'll pick you up at your flat around 1am," Clyde said. She nodded in understanding, her gaze still drifting around the room. "You okay with all this?" he asked, looking for a final confirmation from her.
She locked her gaze with his. "We take him out tonight," she said firmly, no hesitation or wavering in her tone.
This one has been sitting 95% finished on my computer for a long time. I thought it was about time that I let it see the light of day. Do let me know your thoughts if you have a moment..it's appreciated.