IN THE CROSSHAIRS
Chapter 24
It was all an act—the moans, the sighs, the murmured words. But it was a convincing act, a provocative one that had the man panting and grunting and thinking he was desirable and talented in the eyes of his sex partner. Yet even as Nyssa met him thrust for thrust, the bed's oaken headboard banging rhythmically against the wall, her thoughts were not in the room and certainly not upon Ludger Schultz and his frenzied efforts to satisfy her. To encourage him to finish and get off her, she increased her moans to feign cries of ecstasy. His hips crashed harder against hers, his grip upon her shoulders strengthening. She moved against him, shifting her position slightly but strategically. In response, he groaned, "Oh, ja. Ja!" She increased her own cries and faked an orgasm just as he came.
Afterward, he lay atop her like so much dead tuna, breathing hard, his heart hammering against her breast, their bodies slick with sweat. She kept her eyes closed, slowed her breathing, tried not to smell him and his noxious expensive cologne. After a moment, she managed to slide out from under him with little resistance. Schultz rolled over to rest his half-bald head on his pillow. His eyes remained closed until Nyssa started to get out of bed.
"Where are you going?" he asked in German in an almost wounded tone.
Nyssa forced a placating smile. "Just to the bathroom."
She padded across the executive suite's lush carpet to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Sighing, she rested her back against the door to center herself. Then, after using the toilet, she wet a washcloth to thoroughly wipe between her legs. Ugh! It would take a long shower to banish his cologne from her skin and hair.
In front of the large mirror over the marble sink, Nyssa combed her long tussled tresses with her fingers. She considered containing it in a ponytail, but Schulz would only insist on freeing it anyway. He was obsessed with her hair. She rolled her eyes. Well, whatever floated his boat. It was in the League's best financial interest that she continued to keep him happy. His bank unknowingly financed many of the League's operations via its investments in several shell companies. But what an unsavory task. She needed to recruit some female operatives to take over this end of the business. She had better things to do than placate the sexual desires of Schultz and other powerful men of wealth. Maybe Talia had enjoyed this game, but she found it exceedingly dull and beneath her station.
When she left the bathroom, she found Schulz snoring away, mouth open. But he snapped awake when Nyssa's phone began to ring from her Coach purse near the nightstand. Her burner phone.
"Don't answer it, meine Liebste," Schulz said with a small grin. "We have more time." His hand went to his erect penis.
Damn Viagra, Nyssa thought, hurrying to her purse to retrieve the phone. Schulz groaned with disappointment.
"Business before pleasure, my love," Nyssa crooned, tossing her hair to torment him. She shrugged into her robe as she answered the call, heading for the balcony for privacy.
"There has been a new development," came Bane's voice over the phone.
"Hold on," she said. Once on the balcony, she closed the sliding glass door behind her.
"I apologize if I have interrupted something important."
There was no contrition in Bane's voice, just formality. Always so fucking formal. Nyssa scowled. The man never let his guard down for anything or anyone except his precious family.
"Actually, I'm glad for the interruption," she admitted. "I'm performing one of my least favorite duties."
Bane would know exactly to which duty she referred. How many times had he had the same conversation with Talia? Had those conversations about her necessary lovers pissed him off? Or did he stay his usual matter-of-fact self? Just business? Nyssa scoffed inwardly. No doubt he was just glad it was her and not Talia anymore.
"What's the development?" she asked in a terse, equally all-business tone.
She pulled her robe's collar closer to her body and tied the soft belt tighter to combat the fall wind whipping among Berlin's skyscrapers. She glanced upward to the partially clear sky, the city's glow reducing the glow from the pinpricks of starlight above. Was Bane seeing the same sky or was he far enough away to be in daylight?
"I have apprehended the man responsible for the assassination attempt."
Bane's statement pulled Nyssa's attention from the sky. For a moment her surprise kept her silent.
"Excellent," she said. "Have you eliminated him?"
"I fear it is not as simple a matter as that."
"What could be simpler?" she asked impatiently, though she didn't know why she felt impatient. "You've interrogated him, of course."
"Of course." A chill in his voice now; he would resent her insinuation that he delayed for any reason. "You will understand my motivations once we speak in person. It is imperative that we do so before I deal with the perpetrator."
"I really don't have time for this. I trust your judgment; deal with him as you see fit, and just put it in your report."
Bane remained silent for a moment before continuing. "My investigation has proven to be entwined with your investigation into Deadshot, the perpetrator from within our ranks."
Taken aback by this revelation, Nyssa stared at an office building directly across from the hotel. She shouldn't be surprised, though, for she had wondered in the past weeks if the two issues were interconnected, considering Barsad being a common denominator. But she had mainly doubted it, for none of their brethren would be bold or foolish enough to try to take out Barsad, especially with no proof of his guilt. She had figured the assassination attempt to be the work of some government agency, CIA or MI6, most likely. Barsad couldn't stay hidden from them forever, no matter how much Bane tried to safeguard him at their chateau hideaway.
"Elaborate," Nyssa said.
"Over this line, I cannot. It must wait until we meet. You must know I have valid reasons for my evasiveness."
"This line is secure."
Bane did not respond. Stubborn bastard. Nyssa nearly sighed in frustration.
"All right," she finally said. "Meet me at the cottage." The cottage—a reference to her mother's house, meaning Chateau Blanc. At least indulging Bane would give her an excuse to see her mother. "How fast can you get there?"
"By tomorrow evening. And you?"
"Tomorrow will work."
Nyssa almost wished their conversation went on longer. Ending it meant going back to Schulz's bed. But Bane hung up after their agreement. For a time, she remained staring into the night, her loose hair flaring about her in the wind as she considered Bane's news. The two issues were connected, he claimed. Could he be wrong? No, not Bane. His interrogation would have been brutal and effective. Could it really be someone in the League? A part of her smiled at the thought of someone having that much loyalty to her to take on such a dangerous and risky task. Yet she could never openly admit such satisfaction, for it would open a door for any malcontent to take justice into his own hands. Then there would be chaos. No, she would have to show strength of leadership by dealing with the guilty party swiftly and without mercy, no matter what her feelings on the matter.
She sighed, pocketed the cellphone in her robe, and steeled herself against returning to her duties tonight. But fate smiled on her, for when she stepped back inside, she found Schultz fast asleep. Thank God.
Without making a sound, she dressed and scribbled a note, telling Schultz that urgent business had called her away. Well, she thought as she slipped from the suite, it wasn't a lie.
Bane enjoyed the pastoral landscape below as the Airbus H125 flew low over the foothills, approaching Chateau Blanc. The harvest would be in full swing, the work consuming Talia. He always hated to be gone at such a time, knowing his attention to the children when he was present allowed her to focus on the vineyard. He had heard deep relief in her voice when he told her that he was coming home. Now he could see the rolling hills of the vineyard, the work below being done by man and machine to harvest the variety of grapes. Row after orderly row, all bathed in late afternoon sun. He smiled. To see them was to see Talia, for her very blood seemed to flow through those vines. He could not wait to see her, hold her. The very thought of her scent made him hard.
He glanced behind him where Marcus Brennan sat, hands bound behind his back, an armed guard next to him. The prisoner sat in sullen silence, awaiting his fate, staring at the distant mountains, perhaps foolishly hoping he could escape to them. No, even Brennan was not foolish enough to believe there was any place where he could escape the League. And if not from the League as a whole, then from Barsad. Though Barsad had somehow found the strength to remain hidden from Brennan so Bane's insistence that they had not been together be plausible, once Nyssa had seen and heard the evidence against Brennan, there would be little to hold Barsad back from coming to destroy the man. Bane hoped his friend indeed had the opportunity. But it remained to be seen how lenient Nyssa might be with her lover.
Bane's lips twisted in thought as he considered Nyssa's liaison with the man. Was there real emotional attachment between them? Somehow Bane doubted it. Nyssa's one consuming desire as far as he could see was the League, for she knew how much she had to prove to the brethren, especially those eternally devoted to Bane. Yet, perhaps he was wrong, and Nyssa had allowed herself to fall for Brennan. Time would tell.
Oddly enough, when Bane's thoughts of a partner for Nyssa came to mind, he thought of Barsad. Watching the two of them verbally spar whenever they were together made Bane sense a certain animal attraction. Of course Barsad and Nyssa would laugh in his face if he ever mentioned such a thing. When he had once voiced the observation to Talia, she too had laughed, not at him but at her imagined reaction from Barsad if told of Bane's speculation. Sanjana had been very much alive then, so it had been an absurd notion. Bane had not given it further thought until now.
As the helicopter neared the Chateau, Bane smiled, for he could see Henri kicking a football about on a green sweep of back lawn under Maysam's watchful eye. The boy's attention lifted to the Airbus, and he pointed and jumped up and down before racing toward the chateau. Maysam started after him, calling out, no doubt afraid Henri would run headlong into the helicopter's blades as it landed in front of the chateau. Bane grinned at his son's enthusiasm and speed as he ran around the chateau to make it to the front portico just as the helicopter touched down. The flying dust and gravel slowed the boy enough for Talia to appear beneath the portico roof and rush forward to intercept him. Grabbing his hand, she let fly an apparent rebuke, causing Bane to smile inwardly for his son's brashness in the presence of his mother. Henri seemed unaffected, pointing at the aircraft, shouting.
By the time Bane disembarked, Hisham stood beneath the shade of the portico with Melisande in his arms, the child facing forward, her back against Hisham. Because of his many years of loyal service, first to Maysam then to Bane and his family, Hisham was the only chateau servant allowed to hold Melisande. Hisham relished those rare times, not only because he would never be able to hold his own grandchildren but because he was proud that this privilege had been bestowed upon him by his employers. Usually a stoic man, Hisham let his guard down around Melisande, especially if he thought no one else was nearby.
Bent low to avoid the churning blades of the Airbus, Bane lumbered toward his family. Behind him came Brennan and his guard. Bane paused for the guard to catch up, then instructed him to take the prisoner to Yemi.
"Papa Baba!" Henri's call cut through the noise of the helicopter. The boy was tugging on his mother's hand and waving at his father.
Bane's joy at seeing his family again nearly overpowered him and made him rush forward, but his age-old self-control limited him to his usual lumbering pace. Finally, Talia could deny her son no longer, and she freed Henri.
The boy flew to Bane, shouting, "You're home!" He hugged one of Bane's legs, for his small arms could never encircle his father's great girth, especially with Bane wearing his back brace. "You were gone so long."
Shrugging off his duffel bag, Bane lifted Henri high. "Indeed I was. And you have grown much since I left."
"That's what I told Mama."
Bane found Talia's attention momentarily on Brennan, her expression bitter. Bane knew if Henri were not here, Talia would have harsh words for the prisoner, perhaps even a swift slap across Brennan's face for Barsad and Sanjana. Bane would have enjoyed the moment. Brennan returned her stare with sullen acrimony.
"Did you behave for your mother while I was gone?" Bane asked, having to almost shout as the helicopter lifted off, the wind buffeting them.
"Yes, Papa Baba. So, did you bring me a present?"
Bane smiled warmly at Talia as her gaze returned to him, the harshness now gone. "How are you, habibati?" He bent to kiss her, drawing a protest from their son, who repeated his inquiry.
"Did you bring me a present?"
"Yes, my cub, but you will have to wait for it."
Henri dove at his father's bag, but Bane shouldered it, drawing a cry of disappointment from the boy. Bane chuckled.
As they moved toward the portico, Talia said, "I'm so glad you're back."
Bane put his arm around her. Her body felt so good against him, her curves molding into him as if they were one body, reminding him of their prison days when they would lie tight together on his charpoy to conserve heat.
"Why do I have to wait for my present?" Henri's question drew his attention, the boy holding his hand and skipping with happiness.
"Because I said so. You must learn patience, boy."
"Where's Uncle John?"
"He is attending to business. Hopefully we will see him soon. How is James?"
"We're worried about him," Talia said. "He misses his parents, as you can imagine. It's begun to affect even his appetite."
"He's skinny," Henri added, no longer skipping.
Bane frowned as they stepped into the shade of the portico, but the sight of his daughter quickly erased his sadness. Hisham could barely contain Melisande, for her whole being was alight with excitement at seeing her father. She flailed her arms and legs, a large smile on her face as she emitted high pitched squeaks and squeals of delight, arching away from Hisham in an attempt to reach her father.
"My princess!" Bane said, taking her into his arms.
"Ba-ba!" Melisande said.
Bane stared in wonder from the child to Talia, who gave him a melancholy smile and said, "Her first word. She's been saying it for a little while now."
"I taught her how to say it," Henri boasted, puffing out his chest.
Hisham took Bane's bag from him and hurried into the chateau as if to save Bane from being seen displaying such raw emotion at hearing Talia's revelation.
Bane kissed the giggling, squirming baby, closing his eyes. An overpowering mix of joy and sadness almost made breathing difficult. Her first word…his name, but he had missed its initial utterance. He would never get that moment back. What else had he missed? Too many things to count. The same with Henri's childhood.
He held Melisande high above his head, drinking in the sight of her as she continued to laugh, drooling, her new upper incisors shining. Another milestone he had missed. He drew her close again and nuzzled her soft warmth.
"Ba-ba!" she said more stridently.
"That is right, little one; I am your baba. And you are the princess of all you see."
Henri rolled his eyes and huffed. "Come inside, Papa Baba. I wanna show you the Lego house I made."
Just as they entered the foyer, Maysam appeared, slightly out of breath from her trek through the chateau from the pool.
"Haris, how good it is to see you. I apologize for allowing your son to escape me. I hope he did not put himself in any danger."
"His mother captured him before he could be decapitated," Bane joked, bending to kiss Maysam's flushed cheek. "You are looking well."
"I get plenty of exercise keeping up with these young ones." She glanced hopefully toward the door. "Has John returned with you?"
"I am afraid not; he is attending to one last thing, a loose end, you might say. But I am hoping we will see him soon. Talia was telling me that James is not faring well."
"I am so worried about him, Haris. Perhaps seeing you will give him some happiness. But I fear being reunited with his father is the only thing that will truly help him. He is barely eating."
"I will do what I can. Where is James currently?"
"He is with his grandmother at the cottage."
Bane was pleased to hear Maysam refer to Vita in such a way. Talia had told him how the two older women willingly shared James now.
"Yes," Talia said with a sly glance at Maysam, "Jiddah makes sure James sees both Vita and Diya as much as possible."
"And what is wrong with that?" Maysam asked with false innocence.
Talia leaned into Bane, coyly and proudly saying, "Jiddah is cultivating allies in Nyssa's camp for Barsad's sake."
Bane chuckled. "Maysam is quite the operative. But we already knew that, did we not, habibati?"
"It runs in the family," Maysam said defensively.
"And how is your irascible lover?" Bane teased.
"Aaron is as prickly as always," Maysam said. "Like your children, he will be glad for your return. He claims he is too old for all his duties here. As if," she scoffed playfully. "Would you like me to take the children so you can rest a bit?"
"Thank you, but no. There is a certain Lego creation that I must see straight away. And I am not ready to relinquish this squirming little bundle yet." He kissed Melisande. "Her gaze is scolding me for being gone so long."
"I saw a man brought in. Is he the one responsible for Sanjana's death? He looked familiar."
"He did not kill her, but he directed the shooter," Bane said.
Henri tugged on his hand. "C'mon, Papa Baba."
"What did I say about patience, boy?"
Talia said, "He looks familiar, Jiddah, because he's one of Nyssa's picked men. He's usually part of her personal detail, but she had assigned him to the investigation into the claim against Barsad."
"The fox in the hen house," Maysam murmured.
"In more ways than one," Talia muttered.
"I will have the cook send something up to your suite," Maysam said. "We can talk more at supper. Try to get some rest, Haris." She cast her granddaughter a sly glance of innuendo before kissing Bane's cheek again. "I hope you plan to stay here now that this business is over."
"It is not over quite yet," Bane said. "But hopefully soon. I must clear Barsad's name."
"Then I hope you will both stay, if not for your children's sake, then for this old woman's sake. Worrying about you and John has aged me. Aaron might have words with you both for it," she teased before touching his arm and leaving them.
"Now can I show you, Papa Baba?"
"Very well, my cub. Lead on."