Page 46 of Nobody's Hero
He turned to check his back. Nothing. A rabbit hopped into view. It looked at them curiously, then began to nibble the wet grass.
‘I guess there’s only one way to find out,’ Koenig said.
‘Koenig, there arefiftyways of finding out and none of them involve walking into this cottage blind. Come back to the bush; we’ll have a rethink.’
Koenig tried the handle. It turned.
‘Asshole!’ Draper hissed, scrambling to her feet.
He pushed the door open with his foot. Margaret Wexmore stared at them in astonishment.
Koenig marched in and knelt behind Margaret. He quickly untied her. She was trying to say something through the gag. Koenig reached up and peeled it off.
‘Thank you, dear,’ she said. ‘That was quite uncomfortable.’
‘Do you need to go to hospital, Ms Wexmore?’ Draper asked.
‘I’m not a Ms, I don’t own a bordello. Call me Margaret.’
‘Do you need to go to hospital, Margaret?’
‘I have a message to pass on first.’
‘A message?’
‘Yes, dear.’
‘What message?’ Draper asked.
Margaret smiled sweetly. ‘You’re to put your hands in the air and turn around slowly.’
They both heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. They did as they were asked.
Jane Doe was standing in the doorway. In her left hand she held her derringer; in her right she held the gun she’d just collected from Marion Summers, a Chinese-made Makarov. The derringer was pointed at Koenig’s chest, the Makarov at Draper’s. Both hands were steady.
‘Hello, Mr Koenig,’ Jane Doe said. ‘It’s been a while. Who’s your little friend?’ She paused, then added, ‘Anddidyou look at her butt?’
Chapter 45
Jane Doe was maybe five ten and lithe. She looked like the comedian Sarah Silverman, but without a lifetime of laughter. Her hair had been military-short the last time Koenig had seen her, but she’d grown it out. It had a few more grey strands but still looked healthy. Same with her eyes. A few more lines. Made her look wiser rather than older. Koenig thought she’d done a better job of living off the grid than he had.
‘You’re a little outside of your jurisdiction, aren’t you, Mr Koenig?’ she said.
‘I’m not a marshal any more,’ Koenig said.
‘And your friend? Although if my hands were free, I’d wrap “friend” with air quotes. I was listening as you hid in the gorse bush like Br’er Rabbit. I don’t think you like each other very much.’
‘You’ve got that right,’ Draper muttered.
‘Who is she, Mr Koenig?’ Jane Doe said.
‘Jen Draper,’ Koenig said. ‘Ex-CIA, current private intelligence company CEO. Due to a hilarious twist of fate, we’re both at the whim of the kind of people I imagine you used to work for.’
‘And now you’re both here. May I ask why?’
‘The Speakers’ Corner . . . incident set off a chain of instructions that culminated in a safe in Langley being opened. There was a single sheet of paper inside. On it was a list of names and a message: “The Acacia Avenue Protocol has been initiated.” My name was on the list as I was the person who faked your death. I was asked to track you down. Find out what the hell is going on.’
‘And howdidyou track me down?’