"Better," Lily said. "Much better."
Nancy nodded thoughtfully as she reeled the target in. She had managed to make a number of holes in it today. Only two were effective kill shots, but four more would have dropped the guy, anyhow. "Maybe my gun really was off."
"I dropped it off with the gunsmith. He should have it done in a day or two."
"Thanks." She glanced at Lily's target. "Umm … something bothering you?"
"No, why?" Romanov followed her gaze to her own target. It was pristinely unmarked. "No, I can't ever shoot targets."
"Oh," Nancy said uncertainly. "Is, um, that how you ended up shooting Mark?"
"I did not shoot Mark, damn it! I fired one shot, and it went cleanly through the heart of the man I was aiming at. I don't know who shot Mark, but it wasn't me."
"Oh. Okay. Sorry."
Lily growled softly. "Never mind."
"So now what?"
"I don't know. I have absolutely no idea what I'm supposed to do with you, besides fill out your paperwork. Anyhow, I have to run an errand this afternoon. Do you want to pack up the books in Vince's office?"
"I can't come on the errand?" Nancy asked.
"No."
"Okay. Just put the books in paper boxes?"
"And label them. Then ask Munchie to borrow his cart and put them in a locker in the dungeon. I'm sure the tie boys will want them, sooner or later, but for now they want the office space."
"I'll take care of it."
"Thanks." Lily glanced at her watch. "Let's get some lunch."
They had lunch in the grubby, odd-smelling cafeteria. Lily left, and Nancy went up to Vince's office. It seemed oddly cold, impersonal without his pictures, his coffee mug full of pencils, his Ziggy statue. It had gone from being Vince's office to just being any office.
Vince had left the building.
Nancy shook her head sadly. It made her a little angry that her grief was already loosing its edge. She pulled three books from the top shelf and plunked them into a box. Her life was moving on – not prettily, but moving anyhow – and she was already leaving Vince behind.
She wanted to cry. Instead she packed his books.
She wondered if the Man was in her apartment at this moment. Sleeping on her bed. Looking in her refrigerator, or her laundry hamper. Miserable creep. She hoped he ate the outdated yogurt and got sick.
She didn't know what she would have done without Mr. McCall. He was so calm, so reassuring – so professional. She knew he was making her a moving target for this stalker, but she didn't mind. She was absolutely confident he would watch over her.
Nancy closed one box and labeled it. She wondered if she should tell Romanov about her mystery guest. She felt guilty, keeping it a secret from her. Lily was her training agent, after all. She should be able to confide in her. Lily didn't exactly seem like a Company drone; she would probably keep it in confidence, not report it to Simms unless it became Company business somehow.
Yet Nancy's deepest instinct told her not to trust the older agent entirely.
Besides, McCall would take care of it, in the next day or two, and that would be the end of it.
"Campbell?"
Nancy jumped. Her hand was in her gun before she turned.
"Easy," Simms said apologetically. He stood in the doorway, his hands vaguely out to his sides, making no threatening moves. "Just me."
"Sorry," Nancy said. "You shouldn't sneak up on people."
"Where's Romanov?"
"She said she had to run an errand this afternoon."
Simms looked at his watch. "She's off to meet the body then. Good. Thank you." He turned and walked away.
Off to meet the body, Nancy repeated in her mind. Off to meet Vince's body when they flew him in. Company people can't go to the funeral, but they could meet the plane when their fallen comrade came home. She should have gone along. Romanov should have taken her along.
She was vengefully glad she'd kept her secret about her stalker.
After work, Nancy made her telephone call per McCall's instructions, then got on the subway. She did not see the Man.
She got off three blocks from her apartment. She stopped at a little boutique and browsed through dresses. She stopped at the grocery store, and also at the tavern.
She did not see the Man.
She didn't see McCall, either, but that didn't surprise her. She'd asked about him at the office. He was the king of the spooks. She wouldn't see him unless he wanted her to – unless she needed him.
Nancy looked at her watch. She'd dallied, as instructed, for more than two hours. She gave one last look around, then went home.
She remembered to shut off the alarm system before she tripped the camera on. She checked the apartment, but found no signs of her intruder. Then she checked the recorder. Nothing.
The Man had not shown up.
Nancy found herself curiously disappointed.
Her phone rang. Nancy jumped, then shook her head. She already knew who it was. "Hello?"
"No sign of your visitor?" McCall asked.
"Not a hint."
"We'll try again tomorrow," Robert said calmly, and hung up.
"Looking forward to it," Nancy answered.
The next day passed without incident. Nancy wanted to confront Romanov about her errand, but she decided not to; the woman would only have some smug answer anyhow. She was cool to her all day, but Lily either didn't notice or didn't care.
Nancy pursued her same after-work charade as well. Again, the Man didn't show.
The only bright part of the day was that Mark called that night, just as she was falling asleep. She didn't tell him about the stalker, or about McCall. She managed, for once, to sound half-way sane when she talked to him.
She was, she decided, definitely getting better.
On the third day, it had all become routine. Go to the office, pretend she was doing something useful. See the shrink again and lie outrageously. Ride the train home, putter around on the street. She almost forgot to watch for Him.
Then, just as she was giving up for the night, she stepped out of the deli and looked to her left and He was there. Two blocks up, on the corner, leaning against the wall. He had his arms folded over his chest, and he was staring right at her. He'd been waiting for her to come out.
Nancy froze. She couldn't, for one wild minute, remember what to do. Then she reached up and ran her hand through her hair.
Nothing happened. The Man didn't move, didn't approach her. McCall did not appear. No thunder clap of revelation, no lightning bolt of resolution. Just people on the sidewalk, unaware bystanders, a man staring at a woman staring back.
Then the Man turned around the corner and was gone.
Nancy licked her lips. He was gone. He hadn't come towards her, he'd turned away. He was gone.
McCall was coming, and the Man was moving further away.
She touched her gun and went after him. She walked at first, quickly, and then she ran. She stopped just short of the corner where he's vanished and rounded it with caution.
He was gone.
She hurried down to the first doorway, thinking perhaps he was hiding there. Nothing. She tested the security door. It was locked tight. She stepped back onto the sidewalk and looked, hard, both ways.
Nothing.
"Damn it," she swore, with great feeling.
"What in blazes do you think you're doing?" Robert McCall demanded.
"He was here – on the corner, it was him, he was here."
"So you went chasing after him? That was never a part of the plan."
"But I saw him, he was right here …" Nancy caught her breath. "Did you see him?"
McCall shook his head. "I saw you, saw your signal, but I couldn't see who you were looking at. You should have let him get closer."
"He didn't come any closer, he just turned around and walked up this way. Damn it."
"Well," Robert said slowly, "I don't think my surveillance has been compromised. We'll try again tomorrow."
Nancy shook her head in frustration. "He was right here." She looked at Robert anxiously. "You still believe me, don't you?"
"I believe you," McCall said soothingly. "Perhaps he was just watching you to get a sense of your pattern. We'll try again tomorrow. But tomorrow we will stick to the plan, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good girl. Now go home, try to get some sleep."
"All right. Thank you."
He smiled tightly. "When I've caught him, right?"
"Right."
Nancy went home. She was weary, afraid that McCall was losing confidence in her. McCall, Romanov, Simms – Control? They were all losing confidence in her.
She was losing confidence in herself.
She stepped through her door and reached for the remote. Then she froze.
Her couch, which had been neatly smoothed that morning, was badly rumpled again.
Nancy crossed to the little cabinet and opened the door. The recorder light blinked cheerfully at her.
"Gotcha!" she exclaimed gleefully.
Belatedly, she thought to search the apartment. The Man was long gone. The phone rang, and Nancy practically skipped to tell McCall her news.
The Man came into the apartment and slipped something – probably his lock pick – into his pocket. He looked around, wandered the living room, picked things up and put them down. Flipped through the book that Nancy had been reading. Took out the book mark and tossed the book to the floor. Jumped on the couch repeatedly. Left the living room. He was gone about three minutes, then came back with an apple in his hand. He ate as he browsed the room again, then let himself out.
"I don't get it," Nancy said. "He didn't take anything. He isn't even looking for anything. Why does he keep coming here?"
"To frighten you," Robert said grimly. He took the remote and rewound the tape, watched it again in its entirety. "He makes no attempt to hide the fact that he was here. He wants you to know, and to be afraid."
"If it wasn't for you," Nancy confessed, "I would be afraid."
McCall glanced at her. He rewound the tape yet again, played the first few seconds, then froze the frame. The man was looking nearly straight at the camera, in fairly good light. He was exactly as Nancy had described him. Medium height and build, though he seemed a little heavy in the chest. Brown hair, neither short nor long, intense eyes. Oh, yes.
"Do not be afraid," Robert said firmly. "Now that I've seen him, I believe I may know where to locate this man."
"Really? Where? Let's go."
"No. No." McCall stood up and took the tape from the player. "You will stay here. Lock your door, maintain your routine, and do not be afraid. I'll contact you when I've located him."
"I want a chance to talk to him. I want to tell him to leave me alone."
Robert regarded her dispassionately. "You have already done that. It didn't work."
"But I …"
"I will handle this matter, and I will let you know when it is taken care of. Understand?"
She didn't like it, but she nodded her agreement. "I understand."
"Good. Good. I will be in touch. Sleep well."
Nancy let him out, and locked and chained the door behind him. She considered her room, then set about straightening things. "Gotcha," she said to herself, one more time.
Robert McCall leaned one elbow against the roof of the Jaguar and considered the tape in his hand.
So Nancy Campbell genuinely was being stalked. He had had some suspicions to the contrary. But the stalker was real, and he had the proof.
What was more, he knew who the stalker was, and he knew exactly where to find him. Better, he was reasonably sure the woman was in no actual danger, though she had every reason to be convinced that she was.
The only question that remained was why this particular man was stalking Nancy Campbell.
There were a number of possible answers. Robert didn't like any of them. He was damned well going to find out the truth. Very soon.
Grimly, he tucked the tape into his jacket and got into the car.
Romanov called in at eight the next morning and said that she'd be in late. Personal business, she said.
Simms thanked her for the call and hung up his phone, humming thoughtfully. Personal business. They weren't normally very strict about when field employees came and went. They put in a ton of overtime when they were on assignment. But it intrigued him, that Lily was taking time on a morning when Control wasn't expected in the office. The boss flying out to D.C. that morning. Supposedly on the early flight.
But there were flights all day, and it was a short hop. Stay in bed with your lover all morning and still be there by lunchtime.
Interesting.
He stood and walked down to the break room to refill his coffee. Suggestive, but by no means conclusive.
It became far less suggestive when he reached the break room and found Control rinsing out his own coffee cup.
"You're here," Simms blurted.
"Yes, I know," Control returned.
"I … uh … thought you were going to Washington."
The older man nodded. "I am. Leaving now. I just wanted to put a few things in motion before I left."
"Oh."
"Something you need?" Control asked, thoroughly drying his mug and putting it in the cupboard.
"No," Simms stammered. "No, I just … need one more cup of coffee before I'm up to speed."
"I know the feeling. Pot's fresh."
"Thanks."
"You know where to reach me."
Simms nodded. "Have a safe trip."
Control grunted and walked out.
Simms sighed heavily in relief. Damn, but he'd almost blown that. How long had Control been here? Hours, most likely. He could check the phone logs – but he wouldn't. He wasn't feeling especially suicidal today.
So Romanov had personal business, and it wasn't with Control.
Interesting, and suggestive of nothing.
Simms poured himself more coffee and went back to his office to reconsider.
When Lily got to Robert McCall's apartment, Kostmayer let her in. "Hey, Lil."
"Hey, Mickey. What are you doing here?"
Mickey shrugged.
"Okay," Lily amended, "what am I doing here?"
"Don't know that, either."
"Hmm." She stepped into the room. It was almost flawlessly neat, except that Robert's TV stand, which was generally tucked away in the den, was in front of the fireplace.
Robert joined them. "Good morning, Lily. Would you like some coffee?"
"Sure."
He got her a cup. "Sit down," he invited, indicating the couch. "Sit down, I have something to show you."
"Hey, McCall," Mickey said, sinking onto the couch, "I already told you …"
"You're busy, I know. I know. But this particular matter I can resolve in just a very little time, with your assistance. And I suspect I will need your assistance also, Lily."
She nodded. "Whatever you need."
He considered her, half-smiled. "Yes. Well. Earlier this week I was called to help a rather frightened young woman. She was being harassed by a man – the usual story, you know – and she was afraid to go to the police, because she was afraid her employer wouldn't like it. It seemed simple enough, even without Mickey's assistance. Track the woman, find the man, warn him off."
"Nothing to it," Mickey said dryly. "What went wrong?"
"Actually, it all went according to plan. I have located and identified her stalker, and I am prepared to confront him."
"But you need a little back-up," Kostmayer guessed.
"And a little bait," Lily added.
McCall nodded sagely. "Watch, and I think you'll see exactly what I need." He turned on the TV, then the VCR.
Five seconds into the tape, his two guests began to slump.
Robert made them sit through the whole tape anyhow.
When it ended, he shut it off and let the silence settle. "All right, children," he finally said. "What in bloody hell do you think you're doing?"
"It was her idea," Mickey said immediately, pointing to Lily.
"I thought it was your idea."
"No, I'm pretty sure it was yours."
"Children!" Robert bellowed. "Someone will tell me, right now, why you are terrorizing this already-frightened young woman!"
There was another moment of silence. Kostmayer stood up. "I'm out." He walked to the kitchen and got more coffee.
Lily shifted. "We're seeing if we can break her."
"Of course you are." Robert drew himself up to his full height. "You're supposed to be her training agent. You're supposed to be helping her! She's been through a major trauma, and now you're putting her through another one. What the hell are you thinking?"
"I'm supposed to decide if she can make it back in the field," Lily said.
"And this was the best way to go about it? To stalk her, to terrify her?"
"She told me she ran before Vince even hit the ground. If he'd had any chance to survive, she would have blown it. She came apart in the field, Robert, and I'm not putting her back out there until I'm sure it won't happen again."
"Until she measures up to your standard for fortitude, is that is? Not everyone has your mettle, Lily. In fact, very few do. And to expect her to rise to your standards is grossly unfair. She's not like you. Couldn't you just accept that? Couldn't you have shown her a little compassion? A little mercy?"
"A little mercy, Robert, would be to wash her out of the field right now. To keep her safe at a desk, and have her never have to learn the things I know … and you know. That would be a little mercy." Lily paused. "But it's not what she wants. She wants a chance."
McCall stared at her. "She's not you, Lily."
"I'm not sending her out there until I'm sure that she won't freeze up and get herself killed. Or captured. Or get someone else killed."
McCall shook his head. "There must be a better way."
"Then tell me what it is, and we'll do it."
He paced to the kitchen and poured his own second cup of coffee. Mickey moved back to the couch, rewound the tape, and played it again. "At least you got my good side."
"Yes. Quite." Robert paced slowly around the room while the tape ran. "You have to give her some credit, you know. She did come up with an active solution to her problem."
"An original solution," Lily agreed. "One that we did not anticipate."
"Damn clever rookies," Mickey snorted.
Robert sat heavily in the arm chair. "What was the finale to be? How was this little charade to end?"
His two companions exchanged a look and a shrug. "I was going to confront her again," Mickey said. "Push it, hard. See if she'd try to shoot me."
"Ah," Robert said. "Bloody marvelous. I did think you looked a little heavy in the tape."
Kostmayer shrugged. "Camera adds ten pounds."
"And a bullet-proof vest adds another ten. And it's all fun and games until someone takes a head shot."
"She's fresh off the Farm," Lily countered. "Her training's too tight for that."
"You're willing to bet Kostmayer's life on that, are you?"
"For now. We're giving her own gun back tomorrow. Its firing pin might be a bit short."
Robert nodded. "Of course. Of course. And when she's forced to shoot him, and her gun won't fire …"
"She'll fold or she'll fight," Lily said.
"But that was before you were in the picture," Mickey added. "Now she'll just look to you."
"Hmmm." Robert thought for a long moment. "Yes, she will. She trusts me. More completely than she trusts you." He gestured to Lily. "I have tried to dissuade her from her chosen career path, as well. I told her she was entering a world where betrayal was the name of the game. Where you could trust no one."
"She didn't listen," Lily answered.
"No," Robert said solemnly. "Or she didn't believe me, at any rate." He pursed his lips. "Perhaps, just perhaps … " He closed his eyes and considered. Compassion. Mercy. Innocence. Betrayal.
Where the Company was involved, it was all fun and games.
He opened his eyes and sighed heavily. "Very well. We proceed."
"We?" Kostmayer asked carefully.
Robert nodded. "We."