Countdown - Iris Johansen [130]
Another step crunching the snow.
Moving toward the shack where he’d left Jane.
Dammit, he had no time for this.
Make time.
He whirled and moved silently over the snow.
The driving snow kept him from seeing anything until he was only a few yards away.
Up ahead, a dark blur. Tall, very tall, long legs . . .
Gauge your distance.
Silence.
Remember, silence.
Where were they? Surely an hour had passed since she’d called Trevor. Jane checked her watch. An hour and fifteen minutes. It wasn’t time to panic. The roads were terrible and the snow had increased in the last thirty minutes. It was pelting down now. Maybe Trevor’s estimate had been optimistic.
A pounding on the door. “Jane!”
She jerked upright. She knew that voice. Thank God, they were here. She jumped to her feet, ran across the room, and pushed the chair from beneath the doorknob. “What kept you? I was afraid—”
The edge of a hand came down on her wrist, and the gun in her numbed hand fell to the floor.
“Sorry, Jane.” Mario’s voice was regretful. “I wouldn’t have chosen to do this. Life can be a bitch.” He turned to the man standing next to him. “Delivered as promised, Grozak.”
Grozak. Jane stared at the man uncomprehendingly for a moment. But these were the features of the man in the photo Trevor had shown her that day in the study. “Mario?”
He shrugged. “It was necessary, Jane. You and Cira’s gold appear to be sharing the spotlight for the most popular prize with Grozak, and I had to—”
“Stop yammering,” Grozak said. “I didn’t come here to have you waste my time.” He lifted the hand at his side and pointed a gun at Jane. “Out. We need to pay a visit to Reilly. I can’t tell you how eagerly he’s waiting for you.”
“Screw you.”
“I want you alive, but I really don’t care if you’re damaged. You can either come with me or I’ll shoot off your kneecap. I’m sure Reilly wouldn’t mind you helpless for what he has in mind.”
Jane was still staring in disbelief at Mario. Mario a traitor?
“Mario, you did this?”
He shrugged. “Do what he says, Jane. We don’t have much time. I was afraid that Trevor would get here ahead of me, but they grounded his helicopter at a podunk airport near here and he’s scrambling for a rental car.”
“I was disappointed,” Grozak said. “I was looking forward to turning you both over to Reilly. It would have been insurance.”
“If Trevor shows up and I’m not here, he’ll call the authorities.”
“If Trevor shows up, he’ll run into Wickman, and Wickman will be delighted to dispose of him before has a chance to call anyone.”
“Wickman is here?”
“He’ll be here. He was supposed to meet me ten minutes ago. The snow must have delayed him.” He smiled. “Now stop trying to delay me. I have a lot to do today. Tomorrow is showtime.”
“You can’t get away this. You’re going down, Grozak.”
Grozak chuckled. “Did you hear her, Mario? I’m pointing a gun at her, but I’m the one going down.”
“I hear her.” He pointed the gun he’d taken from Jane at Grozak. “Actually, you are going down, Grozak.”
He shot Grozak between the eyes.
“My God.” Jane watched Grozak slump to the floor. “You killed him. . . .”
“Yes.” Mario gazed down at Grozak with no expression. “Isn’t it strange? I thought I’d feel some satisfaction, but I don’t. He shouldn’t have killed my father that way. I told Grozak that I had no affection for him and that he could dispose of him if he needed to do it. But he shouldn’t have done it that way. It disturbed me. It made it very . . . personal.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “Patricide is very personal.”
“I never considered him my father. Maybe as a small child. But he went away and left my mother and me in that stinking village where we both had to work from morning to night just to stay alive.”
“Desertion shouldn’t mean a death sentence.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t plan it that way. Grozak wasn’t even certain he’d have to do it. Only if he thought my position might need reinforcing. But he couldn’t touch anyone at the castle, and I wasn