False Impressions - An Encounter With Miguel Bain

by Terri

The sound of my pager going off scared me so badly that I almost dropped my mug of coffee onto my keyboard. I was concentrating so intently on completing a passport that I had lost all sense of my surroundings. I was working on the last piece of a "complete travel information" set requested by my client and it needed to be finished and dropped off before 9 am. I only had two more hours to go and I didn't like to rush. I took a lot of pride in my work and rushing sometimes meant that less than perfect documents went out. A less than perfect document could be trouble for a client and a troubled client was a dangerous one.

My official title was "Travel Agent", but in reality I created new identities for anyone who required it. I had been creating backgrounds for less than law-abiding citizens for five years, ever since that fateful day when I presented my senior thesis to my professor at NYU. I had decided to write on how easy it was to steal someone's identity and to prove it, I had stolen his. For proof, I created a driver's license, birth certificate and even opened a checking account at a local bank; he was impressed. So much so that he introduced me to a friend who offered me enough money to pay off my loans in order to create an airtight identity for him. It was literally an offer that I couldn't refuse. That job had led to others and eventually I gave up working banker's hours and turned my side-job into a full time habit. In the 5 years that I had been doing this, not one of my IDs had been detected. That reputation sent many well-paying clients my way. I had been able to fund a quiet, new lifestyle on the waterfront in Miami. I had also discreetly purchased two more houses on two other continents under the names of Shelley Montague and Lane MacStruen.

I checked my beeper and saw the requisite numbers that indicated an e-mail was waiting for me. I opened that file and loaded the encoder to get my newest assignment. As I waited, I glanced at the many small security screens that provided a full 180-degree view of the area surrounding the dock house that I rented for my home and business. I tweaked a switch and took a look at my latest acquisition, a sleek Scarab bobbing gently in the water, my "getaway" vehicle. Should my business come under fire from the authorities or from "business associates", I could get on the boat and disappear in a little under 24 hours. Once I was satisfied that all was well, I turned my attention back to the message.

Bishop,

I have a new client for you. He requires complete travel information and documentation for an international trip. He expects to leave within the week. Request that you clear your calendar immediately and plan to meet with him Thursday 8:00 pm. Please confirm.

Knight

"Give me a break! You request that I clear my calendar for every client!" I shook my head in disgust and typed my response.

Knight,

Confirm Thursday at 8:00 pm. The requested travel packet will be complete and available at 8:0 0pm on Friday. Please instruct client to have all necessary background information ready.

"Not like the last idiot who wanted his name to be Johnny Rotten from Leicester, England with a Bronx accent no less." I laughed at the memory.

The clients had to come up with the new identity, but I wanted it a little plausible.

Be advised that all rush jobs incur a rate increase of 30%. I will begin working once the standard 50% non-refundable deposit is posted in the usual account, no later than 10am tomorrow (Thursday). If the deposit is not received, the information will have to be obtained from a different source.

Please confirm.

Bishop

In less than 10 minutes all arrangements were confirmed by my contact and I could return to work peacefully. This was the third rush job that I had had in less than a week. Each job had required the complete package that included a passport, social security card, driver's license, two credit cards and a birth certificate. I could barely complete such a task in less than 12 hours, with 24 hours being much preferable. Photos had to be taken, a complete credit and personal history generated, and then it all had to be convincingly assembled. But I was good, I thought with a grin, the best. That's why they came to me.

With the new appointment made, I turned back to completing my current job. By the time my stomach reminded it was time to eat breakfast, I was printing out the last document. I quickly placed a take-out breakfast order at a near-by restaurant as I sealed my latest masterpiece in a plain brown envelope.

"I'll be there at 9:00! Thanks!" I dropped the phone back into place and finished pulling on my sandals before heading out.

I purchased a newspaper two blocks from my place and tucked the envelope in the fold, a cheap and effective cover. At nine on the nose I opened the door to the crowded restaurant and waded through the crowd to the "take-out" counter in the back. A quick glance around and I found my man sitting at the appointed table with four other men, all dressed in suits, with a small ream of papers and brown envelopes stacked between them, precariously close to the table's edge. I switched my paper over to my right hand and continued to push my way to the back, closer to their table. A quick step to the right and my hand connected with the stack, sending it and my paper to the floor.

"I'm SO sorry!" I exclaimed as I bent to pick everything up.

"Its all right," a rich baritone with a German accent assured me as a stocky man bent to help me pick up everything. I placed the envelope directly in his hand before lifting the rest of the papers back onto the table.

"Danke." He nodded to me once I stood back up.

"Hey, no problema!" I smiled and continued to the back to get my order and leave.

I took my breakfast to the pier and ate and then took a leisurely stroll downtown, to make sure I wasn't being followed, before taking a cab back to my place and getting a much needed nap.

At 10am the next day, I logged into my account and found that the deposit for my new client had been made. I switched back over to my e-mail and informed Knight that the client was to pick me up at a local bar. They were to introduce themselves to the woman playing pool at Table 6 and then buy me a beer at the bar. Once I was comfortable that everything was on the level, I would bring him or her back to my office for the rest of the evening. The client never found out that I was actually Bishop until the office door was closed and locked. With the meeting established, I spent the rest of the afternoon running errands and doing clean-up work on some of my programs.

I left for the bar at 7:00 and was well into my second game of pool by 8:00. I had a clear view of the front door and casually watched each person as they came in and left. No one approached me and by 9:30 I had lost my patience, paid up and left for home. I was pissed that the person had not shown up but that was tempered by the fact that I now had a whole day to myself. I was going over my "to-do" list as I ran up the two flights of stairs to my office, planning to get a manicure. I locked the door and then crossed the dark room to my desk to turn on a light.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I had broken my first rule about cutting on a light before I entered a room. I realized it as I was reaching for the lamp and caught the acrid smell of cigarette smoke and saw the glow of a cigarette in the corner. I froze, all available options running through my head; from the gun in the desk drawer to the back stairs down to the dock, before finally settling on running back for the front door. I turned and sprinted back; fear increased my speed but not making the lock any easier. I opened the first bolt and was turning the second when I was hit from behind and shoved against the wooden paneling. Using all of my strength, I shoved backwards and tried to turn to get away when I felt a gun barrel against the back of my head.

"Don't move." An accented voice whispered in my ear. I froze in place while the intruder patted me down. I heard him laugh softly as his hand found my ankle holster.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He clucked, removing the pistol "Such a tiny thing." He stood until he was pressing me against the door with his body, his mouth very close to my ear, "This would only piss me off."

Two things ran through my mind at that moment. One was that this guy was no ordinary intruder. He had gotten past my alarms, which was not an easy task and he was either my client or an assassin. I opted for the former.

"You were supposed to be at the bar at 8:00." I commented quietly, praying that my guess was correct.

"I don't like rules." He was still holding the gun against my head but the pressure against my body eased some.

"They're just as necessary for you as they are for me. I don't want to die any more than you do."

The gun dropped slightly and he took a step back, "You are Bishop?"

"Surprise, surprise." I dropped my arms and turned to face him and the gun. As soon as I had my back against the door, the man stepped farther back into the shadows. He was as wary as I was.

"Look, you've disarmed me and even if you hadn't, I'm not going to kill a client. Besides, you're wasting my time. Put the gun away and lets get down to business. The sooner you let me start, the sooner you'll be on your way." I pushed away from the door and walked past him to my desk.

My back tensed up and chills crawled up my spine as I waited. If I were wrong, he would kill me but if I was right, my bravado might make him relax. Fortunately, I guessed correctly. His chuckle followed me and I heard the gun sliding back into a holster.

"You are either very brave or very stupid."

"I've been accused of both." I smiled to myself, "How do you feel about a light?"

"Allow me." He was close again and I hadn't heard him move. I jumped slightly when his hand brushed over mine to turn on the lamp. I was temporarily blinded but soon found myself gazing into the most incredible amber eyes I have ever seen. They were lit with an inner fire and passion and I imagined that he could make your soul burn with desire or freeze with fear in a glance. I knew that as long as I lived, I would never forget them.

"Blue and green." He stated in amazement, breaking me out of my reverie.

"What?"

"Your eyes." He inclined his head slightly.

My eyes were two different colors, the right blue, the left green. Most people never took time to notice. "My grandmother said that I was cursed by the Gypsies when I was a baby to be a restless soul."

His smoky laughter curled around me and I responded with a smile, feeling my blood warm to the sound of his voice. He was pure, effortless seduction.

"As you've already guessed, I'm Bishop." I extended my hand to him. At his hesitation I added, "You don't have to give me your name. As a matter of fact, the less I know about you, the better. If you want, just go ahead and give me the name you want to have on your passport and I'll call you that."

He nodded and clasped my hand in his, "Miguel Ramirez."

I could feel the strength in his grip and briefly wondered what his hands would feel like in a completely different situation. Even as I registered his hands, I surreptitiously took in the rest of him. He was wearing blue jeans, black motorcycle boots and a black Henley shirt that showed off his muscular frame. His hair, curly and black as a raven's wing, barely brushed the tops of his broad shoulders.

Oh my! He is positively delicious! Down Girl!! I carefully hid my expression but there was no doubt that he had noticed my initial reaction. A slight smile crossed his features and I knew that I would have to be careful from this point forward. The second rule I had was never mix business with pleasure. But with my current track record on my rules…

"Have a seat Mr. Ramirez." I changed the direction of my thoughts and indicated the chair behind him, "I just need to get some info from you."

I booted up my computer, lit a cigarette and we spent the next three hours constructing his background. He paced sometimes and other times leaned over my shoulder, watching as his new personal history took shape.

"Now for the next step." I pushed away from the computer desk and stretched to relieve the tension in my back and neck, "I just need a couple of pictures and you can be on your way."

"Maybe I will stay," He had finally settled back in the other chair and propped his feet on the corner of the desk. "And we can keep each other company." His gaze traveled from my eyes to my bare feet and back again.

"There's no need." I clamped down on my nerves, feeling myself respond to the heat in his gaze and his innuendo. "If you stay, you'll only slow me down. I work better and faster when I'm alone."

"Yes," he stood and sauntered over to me, "but where's the fun in working alone?"

He reached his hand out and gently brushed my face with his fingers, his thumb lingering on my lips before drifting down to caress the exposed skin over the top of my tank-top. He was watching my face, processing each emotion as it faded into the next. He laughed quietly when I stepped away from him and went to the cabinet to retrieve my photography equipment.

"The only involvement I have with my clients is what is in that computer," I called over my shoulder as I pulled down the background for his passport photo.

"Maybe you will make an exception to your rule," he continued, convinced he could change my mind. I almost gave in, watching him walk past, brushing against my arm before dropping onto the stool in front of the colored screen. Most of my clients were older men, some handsome, some not so handsome, but none had ever affected me the way Miguel Ramirez had. I wanted him, but giving into him would jeopardize everything I had worked so hard to achieve; my house on the water, my new boat, my own peace of mind. If the circumstances were different…I let that thought trail off but they aren't.

"Not likely." I smiled regretfully and flashed the camera's bulb in his face. By the time his vision cleared so had my senses. I took two pictures of his scowling visage and managed not to laugh while doing so. When that task was complete, I told him that he could leave.

"When may I expect to meet with you again, senorita?"

"Do you know where the backside amusement park is?" He nodded, "There's a carousel there, just at the entrance to the pier, I'll meet you at there at 9:30 tomorrow night."

"Got it." He nodded his understanding and rose to pull his black leather jacket over his shoulders.

I walked him down the back stairs and had almost closed the door when I remembered a side note.

"Mr. Ramirez?" He turned back to me, a knowing smirk on his face, I knew he thought that I had changed my mind about his earlier invitation and that almost made me laugh, almost. "Breaking in here was impressive, but if you ever do it again, there will be consequences."

His smile only widened and he bowed slightly from the waist. Even though his response was jaunty, I saw his eyes burn with anger. I don't like rules I heard his voice once again as I pushed the door closed and bolted it, suddenly afraid. Taking him on as a client was beginning to be a mistake, professionally and personally. I leaned my head against the door briefly and then returned to my office.

"First things first." I loaded my security program and then spent the next two hours finding the breach and repairing it. Once that was complete, I added additional manual alarms that couldn't be fooled by a computer. Even with these new systems in place, I didn't feel any relief; the fact that someone had gotten in my home was terrifying. I had thought that I was safe there but after meeting Miguel Ramirez, I doubted that I would ever feel safe again.

I completed the entire package around 7pm the next night and assembled it all into a small manila envelope and stuck it into my purse. I stretched out my aching muscles before collapsing into bed and catching an hour catnap. At 9:00 I went below to my boat, cast off and headed to a dockside bar with hourly slip rentals, directly beside the pier. The cool night air helped to calm me and gave me time to plan a quick exchange with Mr. Ramirez. The less time I was in his company, the better.

I docked my boat and quickly tied off before running in to register with Allen Hicks, the harbormaster. Allen was an old friend who had slightly shady dealings himself. We were introduced by a client several years past and through our shared interest in boating and the sea, we had become good friends. He always kept an eye out when I did some of my drop offs at the bar or the amusement park.

"Got time for a beer?" he asked.

"Not tonight! I'm meeting a friend at the park."

He shook his head. "Maybe later? Shifts changing in about ten minutes, so I'll be off the clock." If I asked him to wait and have a beer, he would know that I anticipated trouble and would keep a watch out for me

"Nah, I'll catch you next time. I think it's going to be a good night." I winked at him and headed back out the door. I was pushing my way back through to crowd towards the boardwalk when a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

"Great boat." I turned to find a very broad shouldered man with slightly drooping eyes.

"Thanks." I pulled away from him and tried to continue on but was stopped by him again.

"Can I buy you a beer?" He gestured towards his own drink.

"No thanks." I pulled away again. I didn't know what, but something about him was disturbing. He blended in with the crowd but didn't seem to fit the norm.

"Maybe I'll catch you later." His expression went from friendly to serious and I nearly bolted. Fortunately the moment was broken by a group of drunken boys. They shoved between us and I used the diversion to get away from him and continue to my meeting.

My whole world was starting to feel' wrong, first Miguel Ramirez appeared and broke through my alarm systems, then this guy at the bar. Warning bells were going off in my head and I wanted this transaction over with in a hurry. I wove my way through the crowd and made several trips around the carousel before choosing a vantage point with my back against the pier railing. I watched everyone around me, trying to find him before he found me. No more than fifteen minutes passed when he materialized at my elbow.

"You're late." I tried to keep my voice light.

"I was here." He replied in kind and then added under his breath, "Just making sure that you were alone."

I smiled brightly pretending that I was meeting a boyfriend, "I should've worn something a little heavier, I'm cold! Could I borrow your jacket?"

His brow creased in confusion but he didn't question me. "After fumbling briefly with his shirt he took it off and wrapped it around my shoulders. I saw that his shirttail had been pulled out and was now covering the back of his pants. I assumed that that was where his pistol was. As we walked, his lingering body heat and personal scent seeped from the fabric and engulfed me like a lover. My senses were on fire when he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me farther down the pier.

While we walked I slipped his package from my purse and into the inner pocket of his coat. With the transaction complete, I pulled him into the shadow of the small shack at the end of the pier.

"Thank you, I'm much better now." I slipped the jacket off and returned it to him, helping him back into it. I made a brief show of putting his collar and lapels back in place and subtly patted the side of the coat that the inner pocket was on. He felt the package and smiled broadly.

"That's it then, I need to be going." I kept up the pretense and turned to leave.

"Not yet." He whispered and caught my arm, pulling me closer, "Not yet."

One arm snaked around my waist, and his other hand cupped the back of my neck and held me still as his mouth came down over mine in a demanding kiss that nearly dropped me to my knees. His silky tongue slid into my mouth and caressed my own while his hand kept up pressure on the back of my head.

Under his onslaught, I began to respond with a similar passion, matching his kisses with my own. I slid my hands under his coat and around his trim waist, feeling the muscles bunch and release under my touch. His arm tightened around me and he lifted me off of my feet to step farther into the shadows. His mouth left mine, leaving me gasping for air, to travel to my ear where he bit softly and then a little harder. I gripped his shoulders tightly, digging my nails into his skin, feeling myself falling under his spell. Part of my mind was screaming for me to stop this before it got too far, but his hands and mouth were playing havoc on me. I vaguely heard a soft moan and was startled to realize that it had come from me. From my ear, I felt the warm kisses blaze down to my neck and then to the opening of my shirt. His hands came up and began to un-do the buttons exposing my heated skin to the cold night air. That was enough to bring me back to myself.

"Stop!" I hissed in his ear and pushed against his chest. He gave no indication that he had heard me and continued to work the buttons loose.

"Miguel, stop!" I shoved harder, genuinely angry and not wanting him to expose me right there on the pier.

His hands released my body, only to capture my wrists and pin them behind me. His eyes blazed into mine, a mixture of barely controlled lust and anger that both frightened and excited me.

"We will go back to your place, then." His accent was thicker now and his tone commanding. I had let this go too far and wasn't sure how to put him off.

"No Miguel. This can't happen." I was ready to apologize when his next words cut me off. He was silent with shock and then his eyes narrowed dangerously, …Make your soul freeze with fear in a glance. My words had returned to haunt me.

"You bitch!" He practically spat out, "You cross the line and then want to just walk away?!" He ground his hips against me and I could feel his arousal against my thigh, "That isn't how it is done."

"Let go of me." I felt fear beginning to well up inside but I pushed it down and matched his icy stare with my own, "You're going to draw too much attention to both of us if you don't let me go."

His hands gripped my wrists harder and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. A small, satisfied smile came to his lips as he watched my discomfort. Just when I thought I would lose my composure, he released me, turned and walked away. I sank down onto the bench, in the shadows and rubbed my wrists, trying to regain control of my emotions. I was examining the red marks he had made and laughed out loud when I saw that my hands were shaking, my laughter nearly dissolving into tears.

"Don't freak out, you don't have time for that." I softly reprimanded myself. "Get yourself together and get the hell out of here."

I gathered myself and practically ran back to my boat. The bar was still crowded and I felt a measure of safety in that. There were too many people around for anything drastic to happen.

"Need some help?" A male voice came from behind me as I untied the first of the mooring lines.

"No, I've got..." I froze with fear when I turned and looked into the eyes of the man who had spoken to me at the bar, "I've got it. Thanks." I stepped back, going for the other line.

"I insist." His tone turned dangerous and he gripped my forearm tightly. In a panic, I pulled hard and turned to see if anyone was around.

"No you don't." He realized what I was doing and moved so that his back was to the bar, blocking me from view.

He nodded when he saw the terror in my eyes, "That's right," He pulled his jacket to the side slightly, revealing the butt of a pistol stuck into a shoulder holster, "Get into the boat." He shoved me slightly.

The realization that he was an assassin and not a mugger and was going to kill me, immediately entered my mind. It was like someone had dumped cold water on me, instantly I was calm I knew I had to get away from him and fast. Get him to the edge of the dock and push him in. The words rushed into my head and I glanced around him to see that the slip behind him was empty.

"Look, maybe we can cut a deal?" I offered in a panicky voice, "I'll give you whatever you want, do whatever you want, just don't hurt me."

I stepped closer to him, resting my free hand on his chest, begging for my life. I felt his grip loosen as he took an involuntary step backwards. I tensed my muscles and was preparing to shove him when I heard a movement behind me. My captor's head jerked up in surprise.

"Bain!" He swore violently and released me to reach for the pistol.

I swung around in time to see Miguel come from the hold, pistol in hand. They were moving in perfect synchronicity and I knew I would get caught in the crossfire if I didn't do something. I kept with my earlier plan and shoved him into the water before jumping into my boat.

"Put it away!" I yelled to Miguel who was still aiming to where his adversary had been. I could hear the man swearing and splashing around and knew that he would be out of the water at any second. Miguel never moved, never took his eyes away from where this man had been.

"Hold on!" I called again as I started the boat and opened the throttle, "Or fall out, you son of a bitch." I added a little lower.

I only looked back once and I saw the man standing on the dock, watching my boat, surrounded by people from the bar. I knew it would take some fancy explaining to get out of that and I hoped that that would buy me a little time. I raced back to my home, intent on getting my emergency bag and camera equipment and disappearing. I completed the 30-minute ride in less than 20 with the throttles open full.

"Where are you going?" Miguel shouted above the engine and wind when he saw the dock lights fast approaching. I only glared at him and continued on

"No!" He shouted once the realization that I was headed home settled in, "He will be there!"

"I've got 15 minutes on him." I shouted back, "I've got time!" I saw the lights of my house and began to ease off on the speed.

"We're not going there!" Miguel was in a rage, "You're not delivering me into his hands!"

"Delivering you?!" I was thoroughly confused now.

"He knows I'm with you. He'll come for us both!" His eyes narrowed dangerously and I began to wonder what the two of them had to do with each other.

"Look, I need my papers! I can't leave here without them!" I shouted back as I dropped the throttle to turn into my slip.

The sudden declaration threw him off balance and he tumbled into the hold. I jumped out of the boat, making sure to take the keys with me and secured it with a single line. I sprinted up the stairs and checked the keypad to make sure the red "breach" button wasn't flashing, it wasn't. I ran into the room and then up the second set of stairs to my bedroom. Behind the back panels of my closet was a large gym bag containing two changes of clothes, two pistols and ammo, keys to my other homes and safe deposit boxes, and four complete sets of papers for myself. I pulled it free and then ran back into my office. I turned on the computer and while it booted up, stuffed my camera equipment, laptop, and all backup discs into another bag.

When the computer came on, I logged in and typed in the "kill" line. Within 5 minutes, everything on my hard drive would be deleted. From there I sprinted back down the stairs to the dock and stopped at the door, pressing my ear tightly against it and listening. There was no sound except for the waves lapping. I squatted down and eased the door open to look around. It was silent, only shadows were moving. I waited a minute and then carefully eased out, slowly walking back towards the boat.

I had just put my second bag in when my upstairs alarm went off. I ran to untie the mooring line and fling it into the boat and jumped aboard myself. I knew the person above would hear the engine as soon as it started but I felt that if I opened the throttle, I would be out his line of view and into the inky darkness quickly enough to avoid being shot. In my rush I nearly t-boned a smaller speedboat and had to turn hard to the left to avoid a collision. I fell forward when the boat bottomed out in the trough of the other boat's wake and nearly busted my nose on the steering wheel. I grabbed the frame of the windshield to steady myself and felt tiny glass shards cut into my hand. What the…I looked at the small drops and blood and then back at the windshield. The top half had shattered, leaving the bottom half spidered with a small half-moon bullet hole in the center. Oh shit! He had almost gotten me. If the boat hadn't bottomed out when it did, he would have shot me in the back.

"C'mon baby!" I urged as I hunched down in the seat to present a smaller target and continued to go.

A movement in the hold caught my attention. I glanced over, my eyes registering the figure emerging from below deck faster than my mind was and frightening me so badly that I turned the boat hard to the right. A loud tirade in Spanish broke through my fear and brought me back to my senses. It was Miguel, complete with a large bump on his forehead and a line of blood down his face. He had probably knocked his head when he fell into the hold. Good, I thought grimly, hope it hurt!

"That won't work a second time!" Miguel shouted at me, bracing himself in the small doorway. I ignored him and continued to speed into the darkness. I didn't let up until I felt his hand on my shoulder and his voice in my ear, "Take it easy, you're out of range."

I finally looked back to see that the lights of Miami were small and indistinct; I had no idea how far we were out but I finally felt a small measure of safety. I sank slowly into the seat and rested my forehead against the wheel, the motion of the boat rocking in the water and the sound of the waves slapping gently against the hull were soothing and further helped to calm me. That had been an extremely close call.

"Take this." Miguel's hand bumped my arm to get my attention. He was offering me a lit cigarette, which I gratefully took and drew deeply on it. We sat in silence for the next half-hour, smoking and watching the darkness.

"Are we staying out here all night?" The sound of his voice broke me out of my reverie.

I shook my head and fiddled with my key chain. It was finally sinking in that I now had to disappear. I wasn't ready for it but I knew what I needed to do.

"Lets go." I turned the ignition and headed southward.

Four hours later, I anchored in the harbor off of Key West. Once everything was secure, I went below to find him sitting on a bunk, smoking and checking the clips on my pistols.

"Where are we going?" He never looked up at me.

"The map is in the same bag you got the pistols out of. Why didn't you just look at it?" I remained standing near the door.

He glanced up, "Your point?"

I sighed, "Obviously not hitting its mark. I'm dropping you off in Key West. I have a friend here with a plane and he'll take you anywhere you need to go."

"And you?"

I hesitated briefly before saying, "I've got other places to go."

He laughed and shook his head.

"What?"

"You have no idea what's going on, do you? The man on the pier was Robert Rath."

"You know him?"

"Yes. He is an assassin, a good one, but not the best and you are his mark. He probably knows more about you than you know about yourself. He'll find you wherever you're heading."

"How could he know about me? I've covered myself at every turn."

Those eyes flicked up and held mine as his hand slowly turned my opened laptop around. On the screen was a close up picture of myself taken at the pool hall. He pressed two keys and showed me the next screen, my stat profile. I took it all in and began to formulate some theories of my own.

"Then you're one too." He nodded, watching me intently. "Well I'm going to assume that you would've killed me already if that was your plan. You've had plenty of chances up to now."

"Correct."

"Then what's the deal, Miguel?"

"No deal. I only wanted my papers, I wasn't after you," his eyes traveled over me, "At least not to kill you." His mouth curved into a sly smile.

"How do I know that you won't kill me now?" I held my breath and waited.

"You don't." He put the clip back into the pistol, chambered a round and leveled it at me, "I could retire Rath's mark and collect the payment." He stood and advanced on me.

My stomach dropped and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. There was nowhere to go on the boat, I couldn't run or hide from him.

"That's right." His smile was now predatory as he read my thoughts, "You're at my tender mercies."

A thousand emotions ran through my head as he came to me and then it finally occurred to me to be angry. I sneered at him, holding his stare, "You wanna kill me? Kill me. Just go ahead and do it. I've been through enough tonight."

"Still so brave." His smile widened a little and he reached out with the pistol to caress my cheek with the barrel. The metal was cold and I felt chills break out across my arms. I jerked my head away, much to his amusement, but never broke our eye contact. The tip moved slowly down my neck to my chest and then circled slowly over my breast.

"I'm not going to kill you, that's not my intention. Besides, we have some unfinished business to attend to before I go."

His gaze was full of heat; I knew what he meant and that sent me over the edge.

"You cocky son of a bitch!" Rage shot through me and I took a step forward, grasping the barrel of the pistol and pushing it up and reaching for him with my other hand.

Miguel easily brushed my hand aside and he shoved me back against the wall, his forearm resting lightly against my throat. If he applied a little more pressure, I knew he would cut off my air.

"You'll beg me to take you," he whispered, his composure never changing, and laughed at the outrage he saw in my eyes.

He watched me briefly before releasing his hold and stepping back; the smirk on his face turned into a smile when I turned away from him and slumped my shoulders. That smile disappeared when I turned back to him and landed a hard right on his chin. I was furious and I wanted nothing more than beat him until I felt vindicated for the whole night. He easily blocked my next swing and using his full strength, shoved me back into the stairs. The pain in my back took my breath long enough for me realize I couldn't win against him, but I still wanted to try.

"Ah-ah." Miguel stopped my next movement when he lifted the gun and pointed it at me again, "Playtime is over. I don't want to hurt you, querida, but I will if you try again."

I leaned down over my knees, trying to catch my breath and calm down. I knew he was serious, and I knew that I couldn't stop him if he decided to. We had both been pushed to the limit.

"Dammit!" I yelled in pure frustration, spun around and slammed my already injured fist into the wall behind me, wishing that it were his face again.

Before I could think much beyond what I needed to do next, the pain in my hand started shooting up to my wrist and then my elbow, distracting me from plotting his demise. I cradled it against my chest and walked past him into the galley to retrieve my first aid kit. I need painkillers and an ace bandage before I could even think of dealing with him again. Once I had gone into the galley, he sat the pistol down on the table and resumed his slouched position on the small couch to clean the other gun. We both worked silently, each keeping a sideways eye on the other. When I finished my task, I turned to go back upstairs but stopped when my eyes came to rest on the pistol that he had left sitting on the table.

"You want to kill me?" He asked softly, breaking through my reverie.

"Yes," I admitted, and at that moment, I wanted to more than anything.

"Here." He lifted it towards me, encouraging me to take it from him.

Once I had the gun he lit another cigarette and sat back to watch my shocked expression. "Oh, its loaded," he assured me with a nod, "but you can't kill me. You don't have that in you. For now. But you had better learn, sweetie, and fast, or you may find someone not so taken with your obvious charms who will blow your head off."

"Damn you," I whispered, knowing and hating that he was right. I un-chambered the round, flipped the safety back on and tossed it back onto the couch before climbing back up top.

"Someone already beat you to that," he called after me, his mocking laughter following me up.

I sat up on deck trying to make sense out of what had happened in the past 48 hours. Someone had put a contract out on me and sent one assassin to complete the job. Miguel had said that Rath was the best so I must have pissed someone big off. I had no idea who it was; it could have been a previous client, a business rival, anyone. The list was long, but most of the names were only an alias, not much of a help. Rath was a professional so it had to be someone who had a lot of money.

"And then there's Miguel." I couldn't figure him out. I hated him, was afraid of him and still wanted him more than anything. And there was no doubt that he wanted me too. I sighed heavily in frustration, caught between my warring emotions.

"Oh well. First things first. Get out of the country and then figure it all out." I went back below and radioed my friend David.

"What's up?" His familiar voice was a much-needed comfort.

"Its time."

"Come on in." It was all I needed to hear, "Where are you?"

"I'm off the coast so I'll be there in 20 minutes. And I have an extra piece of luggage." I was referring to Miguel and I knew that the bastard knew it. He was lying on the bunk watching and listening to everything.

"To be disposed of?" That question elicited a snort from Miguel.

"No...regretfully."

"Okay, I'll be prepared. See you in a few."

I hung up the mic and returned up top, never once glancing at him or acknowledging his presence. I had known David Callahan for ten years and had had various business dealings with him throughout the past five years. We sent business each others way when we could and had an arrangement to take care of each others belongings should one of us have to run. Needless to say he was going to be pleased to have the Scarab at his disposal. I smiled at the thought as I pulled up to his dock and tied up.

"Hey!" David called out as he jogged down to the pier.

"Hey back!" I returned before being enveloped in a big bear hug, "It's been too long."

"The next time'll be longer," He laughed ruefully before releasing me, "but at least I'll have your memory and this gorgeous boat to keep me warm!"

"The boat more than my memory, right?" I called over my shoulder as I reached into the captain's chair to get my bag.

"You know that's not true," he admonished and held out his hand to take my bag from me, "And the other piece you were referring to?"

"That would be me." Miguel stepped over the side of the boat and onto the pier.

David inclined his head slightly in greeting as the two took each other's measure.

"You two can have a pissing contest if you want." I offered, trying to break the tension. It didn't work.

"Welcome to my home." David finally broke down and then turned to walk back inside. I turned to follow him but was stopped by Miguel.

"We cannot stay here."

"Its safe and we don't have a choice. If you want to go, then go." I pulled my arm away and continued towards the house. I almost laughed when I heard him swear loudly and then pound up behind me. "David'll fly us to the mainland in the morning and then you can be on your way."

"Fine," was all he said.

I didn't hear another word from him the rest of the night. David fixed cold sandwiches and after grabbing his, Miguel disappeared into the back of the house with my laptop.

"You want him," my friend commented quietly when he heard a door in the back of the house close.

I nodded in agreement.

"So what's stopping you?"

"He just scares the hell out of me." I admitted before taking another bite out of my sandwich.

"I seem to recall a friend of mine who thrived on that." He winked at me.

"Oh yeah!" We both laughed at that. I had had my share of dangerous liaisons' with men, usually the more dangerous, the better.

"But Miguel's different; he's got an edge to him."

"Do what you have to." He patted my hand. "Just be careful."

"I try."

"So, how did you end up with him?"

"He was my client. The whole thing blew up when I dropped off his documents." I continued to relate the entire story for my friend, "so there's no way I can go back home. This Rath guy knows where I live and hang out. I have no idea how much more he knows about me."

"If he found you once, he'll find you again. I'd suggest you forgo Shelley's return to London and go and stay at my place in Hawaii. You won't need your passport so you can't be traced through that. I'll drop you off at the airport and you can catch a ride with Kith. He's flying over on business and I'm sure he wouldn't mind someone to keep him company. You can stay until we decide that everything's calmed down and then you can go on to London."

"That might be a long time," I reminded him.

"No problem. Stay as long as you like. I'll even come to visit you in a month or so."

"Okay," I gave in finally, "You're right. Thanks. Now lets take care of my stuff and then I'm going to bed!"

David arranged to end the lease on my house and to have it stripped clean and all personal effects put into storage under the guise of my abandoning it. Within 24 hrs my boat would be a different color with different registration numbers and a brand new owner. All of my local accounts would be closed and the money funneled into offshore banks. David decided that I should become his sister and we quickly created the name Joanna Upchurch and some preliminary papers on his computer.

"I'm David Upchurch there, so that shouldn't be too hard for you. You can make credit cards and open accounts or whatever you need when you get there. There's not a computer there so pick up whatever you need at Island Bytes and charge it to my account. We'll make a driver's license here but you'll need to clean it up once you've gotten there. I'll call a couple of my friends in Maui and tell them that my little sister is coming to stay while she waits for her divorce to be final."

"I don't want a lot of company, David."

"Don't worry. I'll tell them to just keep an eye on but to leave you to work through your grief."

Once I was satisfied that all was well, I bid my friend goodnight and went to walk on a familiar shore for what I knew would be the last time for many years. I stayed gone for nearly an hour before returning to my friend's home. All was quiet and dark as I tiptoed quietly through the house and to my bedroom. I needed a hot shower badly so I headed for the bathroom. I flicked on the light and glanced up at the mirror over the sink. Miguel was standing right behind me.

"What are you doing in here?" I ground out.

"I told you, we have some unfinished business before tomorrow."

You will beg me to take you. An involuntary shiver raced through me as I remembered his earlier words.

His knowing smile told me that he knew what was in my mind. "You want this too. You like the danger, the pain and the thrill. You and I are a lot alike."

His eyes caught mine and held me there as he came up behind me and wrapped one arm around my waist, the skin on his arm touching the bare skin exposed between my waist band and shirt bottom. I turned slightly, unsure if I wanted to escape him or embrace him. I never got the chance to decide. He spun me around and captured both hands behind my back and devoured my mouth. His kisses were bruising and domineering. He needed to be in control and at the moment, he was. He continued the onslaught until I finally gave in and responded, matching his intensity with my own. As soon as that happened, he gentled his kisses, sucking slightly on my bottom lip as he pulled away.

"Tell me what you want." He asked against my mouth.

"I want you to leave." His mouth was brutal against mine again until I began to respond. Then he burned a wet trail against my throat, his hand cupping the back of my head and holding it still. My hands were still captured and I pulled slightly against him to release them, I wanted to touch him badly. At my movement, his hand released my head and wrapped around my waist to lift me up onto the sink. His silky lips moved to my throat, kissing down to the juncture of my neck and shoulder and alternately biting, sucking and licking there. I was at the brink of losing control and moaned in agony as he continued. He finally released my hands and I went to work exploring his back and feeling the softness of his hair. He pulled me closer to him, rhythmically pushing his hardness against me, causing me to wrap my legs around his waist and arch more fully against him.

"Tell me." He was whispering in my ear now. I surrendered to him, knowing that I was damning myself.

"You." I finally allowed myself to admit my desires not only to him but to myself as well.

He stopped what he was doing and pulled away from me to sit on the bed.

"Come here." He crooked his finger at me and I went eagerly into his arms again.

His body was lean and hard against my own and we kissed every inch of each other until we lay naked. He kissed my breasts, lavishing great attention on each and then kissing his way down my stomach. Slowly he worked his way to my thighs and back up to their juncture. Every nerve ending was on fire as my body tensed for this most intimate kiss.

"Beg me." He barely whispered but I heard it clearly. I had to surrender to him completely.

"Please." My hands were gripped the sheets so hard that my knuckles were white.

"Please what?"

"Please make love to me."

My reward was instantaneous. With his mouth and tongue, he loved me completely until I was thrashing on the sheets with his hair gripped firmly in my hands. Just before I found my release, he stopped and was kissing me again. He positioned himself between my thighs and was ready to enter me to find his own release when I flipped him onto his back. I held his wrists tightly in my hands, down by his side, and pinned him by leaning my weight down on his thighs. He now had no leverage to flip me back over. I kissed him just as brutally as he had me, thrusting my tongue into his mouth, making him moan with desire. I stopped and commanded him to watch me. I slid off of his thighs without releasing his hands and positioned myself right over his hardness, barely allowing him to touch me. The muscles in his arms bunched to free himself just as his hips were bunching to bury himself within me. I dropped down a fraction of an inch before pulling back up and doing it again.

"Tell me what you want." I commanded him. He made an inarticulate noise as he fought to stop his torture.

"Beg me!" I pushed him further.

"Dios mio! Por Favor!!" He cried and I gave in to him.

I dropped down completely, ending the torture for us both. Once his hands were free, he rolled and plunged himself more deeply into me. We rocked together, matching caress for caress and thrust for thrust.

"You are mine," He bit my shoulder, the pain adding to the pleasure, "You belong to me."

As the first shudder ripped through my body I sealed my fate when I uttered one word, "Yes."

He woke me twice more during the night and each time he claimed me for himself. By the time dawn broke the sky, I was sleeping deeply in exhaustion.

"Up and at em!" David called through the door. I rolled over to see that it was nearly noon and that the man who had kept me awake all night was gone. I was both relieved and disappointed.

"Food is on the table and its getting cold and you've got a flight in three hours, lets go!" David banged on the door and then I heard him walk away.

I scowled at the door, angry with him for waking me up but glad to know that I would soon be on a flight to Hawaii and out of harm's way. I wrapped myself in a robe and walked out into the living room to join David at the table, hoping that he was there. I didn't want to ask about him, not to David, so I began munching on toast and tried to wait patiently.

David watched me silently until I began to grow uncomfortable under his gaze.

"What?!"

"Your conquest woke me up at five to fly him to Miami."

I nodded briefly, not knowing what else to say.

"I guess he's the love em and leave em type, too." David shook his head and laughed. He had no idea that I wasn't ready to let this one go.

I sat silently for a while, finishing my cup of coffee and toast before retrieving my bags from the boat and getting ready to go. On the flight back to Miami, David and I reviewed our plans once more. Everything was in place and he promised to touch base with me every Sunday night. Too soon we were landing and I was being introduced to his friend, Kith. We loaded my bags into the small personal plane and while he was doing his pre-flight checks, David and I said goodbye. I could tell he was holding something back when he refused to let go of my hand.

"Spill it!" I pinched his arm.

"OW!" He pulled away, "Okay, okay, he asked me to give you this." He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to me, "If its bad, call me and we'll take care of it."

"Thank you." I kissed him gently, "I love you."

"Love you too, Sis!" He added for good measure and then helped me onto the plane.

I held the envelope tightly, not wanting to open it. We had spent an incredible night together but that didn't erase the fact that he was an assassin or that he had talked so casually of killing me just to piss Rath off.

I held onto the envelope for over two hours before working up the courage to open it. Inside was a small slip of paper, folded in half. I opened it and his words made my stomach drop.

"Aloha, Joanna, we will meet again."

That was all that was written on the paper and those six words had me briefly considering selecting a new destination. But I did want him to find me. He was like playing with fire and I wanted more.

"And I'll be ready for you." I promised myself.