chapter three: angel

Kilmer held her. He was warm and Frankie smiled. "I knew it. I knew you'd come for me."

"You were late. I was worried." He ran his fingers through her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You should have called."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm glad you're here."

Frankie coughed and Kilmer disappeared. She wept, clutching the blanket in her fists . . .

Blanket? Where had the blanket come from?

She had a vague memory of someone coming in and covering her with it. Frankie wrapped it around her body, trying not to think about how much time had passed, or how thirsty she was.

Kilmer would find her.

Kilmer would come.

"Hey, Kilmer." Jelani raised his hand in greeting. "Our freighter left the port of Sassandra on the Ivory Coast eight weeks ago, bound for the Bahamas."

"Why would you export African trinkets to be sold in the Bahamas?" Lark asked. "If you go to the Bahamas, buy Bahaman tourist junk."

Better yet, Holly signed, spend your money sightseeing instead.

Kilmer shook his head, more irritable than he'd been the previous day. "Can we focus, please?"

"Sorry, boss." Jelani looked anything but sorry.

How's Frankie feeling?

Kilmer ignored Holly's question. "What's the status on Tim and Mo?"

"They're still under quarantine." Lark was instantly professional again. "The CDC hasn't had any luck in identifying the pathogen. Neither of the guys are too happy. Tim, especially."

Jelani laughed. "Oh, yeah. He's got a hot date tonight."

"And CDC still doesn't want us involved?" Kilmer asked.

Lark shook her head. "Nope. You know how territorial they get. Remember how torn up they were when we took over that Ebola case?"

"We've got more pressing matters," Atkins said from the top of the stairs. The team fell silent. "How well can you work with three people short, Kilmer?"

"We'll cope." Kilmer wasn't about to drag Frankie out of bed. He had firsthand experience of how cranky she was when she was sick.

Atkins didn't look convinced. "I wanted to wait a while before putting your newest team member to work."

The team exchanged confused glances.

"Newest team member?" Kilmer asked. Atkins should have briefed him before; he hated being left out of the loop.

Atkins didn't answer. He gestured to someone behind him. A few seconds later, a tall redhead was at his side. "Lieutenant Colonel Angeline O'Reilly. She graduated top of her class at Quantico before she joined the Marines. I expect you to make her feel welcome." The last part of his sentence was directed straight at Kilmer.

Kilmer gave a terse nod; he got the message, but he wasn't happy about it. When the team had been formed, Atkins had let Kilmer handpick whom he wanted on board. He wondered how many strings had been pulled for O'Reilly and who had wanted her here. And why he hadn't been forewarned.

"Right," Atkins continued. "Sadiq Fasil was spotted at Dulles early last week."

"How early?" Jelani was already typing away.

"Monday."

"Monday! That's twelve days. Why are we only finding out about it now?" Kilmer stared up at Atkins.

"Who's Sadiq Fasil?" Lark asked.

"He's a Muslim extremist with ties to Black Sun," Angeline said, naming a well-known terrorist organization. She came down the stairs to join the team. "He enjoys torturing people – he's suspected to have been involved in torturing American soldiers in Iraq – but his specialty is explosives."

Angeline smiled, revealing a row of perfect, white teeth. "Fortunately, so is mine."

"He's been linked to the embassy bombing in Mogadishu," Jelani said, reading from the screen.

Kilmer stood. "Okay. Holly, Jelani, see if you can find out where he was before he came here. Do we have a photograph?"

Here. Holly handed him one she'd just printed.

"Lark, stay here. See what you can do about getting Tim and Mo back. O'Reilly, you're with me."

Hassan glanced at the cellar door. "I thought you were going to talk to her today."

"I thought you were making coffee." Fasil looked pointedly at the kettle.

Hassan filled it with water and took two mugs from the cupboard. He looked through the window; farmland stretched out for miles around them. They might just as well be the last people left on earth. Spooning coffee powder into the mugs, he was struck by a thought.

"What if the Americans don't understand the message?"

Fasil's smile was cold. "They will understand."

Hassan wasn't so sure. If the Americans were as stupid as Fasil kept telling him, how could they possibly understand?

Kilmer wasn't coming.

She was going to die here.

No, she refused to accept that. Frankie got to her feet, determined to find a way out. She had not survived everything else in her life just to die like this. She put her hand against the wall and slowly made her way around the room.

"Shit!" She stubbed her toe on something. Wait, there was light coming from somewhere. She looked up, and realized that there was a door. Which meant what she'd bumped into was a staircase.

Frankie climbed slowly to the top, her muscles sore and stiff. Her hands trembling from the cold, she tried the doorknob. It was locked. She started to bang against it.

"Hey! Let me out of here! Hey! Hey!"

When there was no response, Frankie got even angrier. She beat the door harder, then accidentally stepped backwards and fell down the stairs.

Kilmer didn't say a word to Angeline on the way to Dulles. He was civil to her as they questioned the airport employees and looked at the security footage. They came away with the information that Fasil had simply walked out of the airport and climbed into a waiting car – useless in that no one could say where he had gone or what the driver of the vehicle looked like. Depending on which eyewitness was to be believed, the car was green or gray or blue.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Kilmer said on the drive back.

"Not really. We know he's definitely in the country."

She was far too perky, Kilmer thought. "I wouldn't have come here if I thought he wasn't."

Angeline smiled. "Why don't you like me?"

"I don't even know you." Kilmer kept his eyes on the road. A slight detour would take them past Frankie's apartment. He debated checking up on her, then thought better of it. He didn't feel like introducing her to Angeline yet.

"My mother is French, my father is Irish-American. I'm thirty-two, I'm a Scorpio, and I like pasta. And everyone calls me Angel."

Kilmer found himself smiling. "Are you an angel?"

"I can be whatever you want me to be." Angel laughed at the look on Kilmer's face. "Sorry. I couldn't resist."

"Fair enough."

"You'll have to find out the rest from my file."

"I suppose you've read mine." Kilmer glanced at her long enough to see her blush. Again, he wondered who she really was and why she had left the Marine Corps.

"Guilty as charged. I wanted to know who I'd be working with before I agreed to the job." She paused. "Can I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why do you work with your ex-wife? Isn't it awkward?"

Kilmer didn't answer. Angel stared down at her lap.

"Okay, I guess that's none of my business."

Kilmer was silent until they arrived at the Vault. Truth be told, the question hadn't really surprised him. He wished he knew the answer himself. His relationship with Frankie was too complicated to put into words.

And now Angel had got him wondering. Why did he work with Frankie? Was it because she was the best profiler in the country, or was there another, deeper, reason?

"I've got you, Frankie. I'm here."

Frankie smiled up at Kilmer. "I thought you weren't coming."

"I'd never leave you. You know that."

Even as he said it, he began to disappear. Frankie managed to sit up and wiped away her tears with a corner of the blanket. She was lucky that she hadn't broken any bones in the fall, but her head was still sore and her cough was getting worse.

She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Kilmer was there and it was their wedding day.

"You're beautiful."

Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. "This doesn't feel real."

"I know what you mean." He kissed her, then pulled her to her feet. "Dance with me."

They fit together as if they were made for each other. Swaying to the rhythm of the song, Kilmer bent his head to her ear and said, "I'm the luckiest man in the world. I think I was born to love you, Mrs. Kilmer."

"Fasil traveled here under the name of Muhammad Najeer," Jelani said. "He came from Abu Dhabi, pretending to be a businessman."

Kilmer paced the room. "What about Black Sun?"

"They pretty much dropped off the radar after Mogadishu."

"Some people think Fasil is Black Sun," Angel said.

"Jelani, are there any parades or anything coming up? Visiting diplomats? Special events?" Kilmer stopped. "There's also the possibility that he's already done what he came here to do."

Angel shook her head. "We'd know if he had. Fasil would want a spectacle."

We need Frankie, Holly signed.

"No. She's sick."

She can get inside his head quicker than the rest of us.

"Holly's right," Lark said.

Angel tapped her pen on the table. "She doesn't need to get out of bed to do it."

Kilmer looked around at his team. They were right. He sighed. "Give me the file."