Chapter 5
Sao Luis, Brazil
The sun was high in the sky as the boat made port in Sao Luis. Dante was scheduled to meet with Jose Eduardo Tavares Silva, one of the most powerful men in this part of the world at the time. Dante was adamant with Fiona that she leave the boat. She knew this couldn’t be good, though he had assured her at the start of this journey that he had put aside his past for her.
Fiona threw on a pareo over her bikini, grabbed her bag and sunglasses and left for the marketplace. She had stopped at every port and found some meaningless little trinket to keep as a journal of their trip.
The sun beat down on sand covered cobblestone. The market was full, and Fiona spoke no Portuguese. But the sounds of the language left her lost into her own imagination, and she seemed in a haze as she wandered past stall after stall of foods, clothing, and gifts. The smells enticed her and suddenly she realized just how hungry she was.
Just as her hunger pulled her from her reverie, she became suddenly aware of all the sights and sounds around her. Musicians playing in the shade of a building. People everywhere, pushing past her to get through the market. Children playing soccer off to one side of the crowd.
And shots being fired.
Fiona’s head whipped toward the direction of the boat, and she sprinted back to the marina, dodging past children and animals. She had never run that fast in her life for anything, but she knew in her heart what that sound meant. The wind caught her hat and ripped it from her head, but in her panic she didn’t even give it a second thought.
As she ran, she muttered to herself,
“No. He can't be hurt. Not after all this. If he is taken from me I will never live again.”
She made it back to the boat and found Dante on the deck, clearly injured.
Fiona collapsed onto the deck next to him, her eyes rapidly surveying the situation before her. She asked him breathlessly,
“How ..bad..is it?”
Dante smiled weakly at Fiona, and grimaced as he took a breath to speak.
(wincing from the pain)
“Not bad. I'll be fine. Nothing to worry about. Really, sweetness, it's just a flesh wound.”
Fiona, staring at the new hole in his leg, appeared unconvinced at his reassurance.
“I thought you left that life behind when we sailed away.”
“I did. There was a last minute loose end to tie up.”
He turned his head to the left, and Fiona followed his gaze. Silva was tied and spewing what could only be obscenities. Fiona stood up and grabbed an old shirt from her bag and used it to gag Silva. She then turned her attention back to Dante to help him. She had never gotten over the first time she had removed a bullet from her love. As she closed her eyes just now she could see it:
Fiona and Dante were in a barren Paris apartment. Dante was weak from the pain, and Fiona was removing the bullet that was lodged deep in his shoulder. There was blood all over his white undershirt, and all over Fiona's hands, making it hard to use the very basic surgical tools she had. He had been shot in the back of his right shoulder, defending her. She had never forgotten that she owed him her life.
As she shook off the memory, Fiona pulled him close to her and vowed silently to never let him go. He finished wrapping the injury, and stood up slowly. He walked over to Silva as he was attaching the silencer to his gun. One shot. Done. Loose ends tied up.
Dante took a swallow of rum from his flask to kill the pain, and then picked Fiona up in his arms and carried her, despite the searing pain in his leg. He brought her to bed, and he was different with her this time. Rather than the hard, passionate, intense love he was generally known for, he took his time with her.
The next morning, Dante was startled awake by the sound of a tugboat horn and sat up with a sudden jerk. His recollection of the night before made him smile as he turned to see the empty berth beside him. Shaking off the morning, he got up and realized Fiona was not on board. Climbing carefully up to the cockpit he glanced out, his eyes squinting on the morning light.
“Fiona?”
He limped back down below and that’s when he saw a note attached to the portside settee.
Dante,
Last night brought me someplace I thought I had always hoped for, and you have brought me to places I've never seen before. For that I will be eternally grateful. I apologize for leaving this way but I cannot continue down the road we’re on.
I hope you understand.
All my love, FP.
Dante crumpled the note and threw it to the floor. His jaw set in its usual sharp angle, he furrowed his brow in concentration. He didn’t understand what just happened; he knew that Fiona had been falling for him over the years and that their relationship had changed dramatically with the beginning of their current journey. But he was certain that this was exactly what she wanted. It was becoming clear to him that he simply did not understand his sweet Fiona.
“Dammit.”
He took a quick shower and made his way to his 1980 BMW R-series motorcycle that he kept parked in town. His eyes scanned the marketplace to see if Fiona found her way there. Suddenly, the sound of bullet piercing a stucco wall was heard as it ricocheted off the wall next to Dante. He leapt behind a fruit cart and pulled out his gun. Another shot was heard as it hit a watermelon by Dante's head. His eyes darted around in an attempt to find the shooter.
“Where are those shots coming from?”
Dante continued to look around, his eyes skimming the crowd and the upper windows surrounding the market. The shooter remained hidden in the shadows, and as Dante’s attention was turned toward the windows, slowly brought his gun out straight, pointed it at Dante's head and pulled the trigger. A shot rang out and Dante turned to see the shooter, now with blood trickling down his forehead, as he fell to the ground revealing Fiona Patrick holding the smoking gun. Dante looked at her incredulously, and the furrowed brow grew deeper. She lowered her weapon and raised one eyebrow.
“What would you do without me?”
Chapter 6
Dante stood before Fiona, dumbstruck at what he was hearing. He began to pace the floor as he attempted to piece it all together.
“So, are you saying that...no. You couldn't have been. I just- I - I don't understand.”
Fiona gave a little smile, and stood up, reaching her arms out to stop Dante's pacing. With one hand on each of his forearms, she could feel his strength.
“You needed watching over. The agency knew it, and I agreed. I never expected to fall for you. Sleeping with you was an acceptable risk, but the rest I had never bargained for.
“So, you were at all of them?” Dante returned to pacing as he questioned this woman who he thought he knew.
“Yes, all of them.”
“And those trips into the markets when we made port?”
“All jobs given to me by the agency.” Fiona took a deep breath as she watched him pace in the very small room on the boat. She knew he would find this out eventually, he was too resourceful.
“And all the times you asked me to stop? Was that real, or just part of your orders?” Dante was angry, and Fiona knew that she would only be able to say so much to bring him back.
“I did- no, I do want you to stop. I care too much to watch you continue this life. For me, this was the only way I knew to live. But you deserve better.”
“So, you're not really a supermodel? I don't understand, I went to the photo shoots. I saw the magazines. You were on E Network, for crying out loud!!”
Fiona stopped him again, this time holding him more firmly. She looked deep into his eyes as she responded.
“You know how far the agency reach was. You know what they're capable of. I mean, Jesus, they put that idiot in the White House just to fool the terrorists into thinking we didn't know what we were doing. That takes serious power.”
Dante took a long hard look into Fiona’s perfect face, searching for some sign that she was pulling his leg. As hard as he looked, no such sign appeared.
“How long has this been going on?”
Fiona dropped her gaze to the floor, her long hair falling to the sides. Without realizing what she was doing, she began twirling a section of hair on her finger.
“Longer than I care to admit.”
Dante stopped questioning her, and tried to wrap his head around the truth. Everything he knew was built on a fallacy. And he was angry about that. Yet, when he thought about all that he was sure she must be capable of, he realized that it was quite a thought. He imagined her in training, and suddenly saw a bright side to the situation. He placed one finger under her chin and lifted her face toward his. He took a moment to gaze at Fiona, searching her face once more for some sign of a practical joke. There was admiration and respect. There was something else, though. A twinkle in her eye. She had always been great at reading his mind. Dante wondered if she knew where his mind had wandered the moment before.
Testing his theory, he grabbed her hard and pulled her in for a kiss. Only this time it was no gentle, soul-searching kiss. It was firm and it made sure she knew that he was in charge of her. She followed his commands easily and let him pick her up and shove her body into the wall as she wraps her long muscular legs around his waist. He leaned into her, and she pushed back with the same strength and enthusiasm as was to be expected from a woman in her line of work. He held her there, against the wall, continuing to push against her, as he reached down with one hand and ripped open her gauzy cotton blouse. Fiona moaned, arched her back into his motion, and her eyelids fluttered gently as her eyes rolled upward. Dante let out a growl as he continued to ravage every inch of her. Fiona obliged and was as much a brutal animal as he was.
The sun filtered in through the curtains and before she even opened her eyes Fiona knew that he was not there. She rolled over in bed and reached out to confirm this. The night before was...more than she thought possible. She and Dante had been lovers for many years, but something was different now. Now that he knew who she really was. She dreaded the possibility that he might put the pieces of the puzzle together and figure out the rest, but she would have to just be more careful from here on out. They had already decided that the agency shouldn't find out about this, so her secret was safe from him a little longer.
Her cell phone, set to vibrate, began to dance about on the shelf by the bed. She looked at the number. Crap. This was not good. If they found out that she lost him....
“This is Fiona.”
The female voice on the other end of the line sounded impatient.
“Where is he now?”
Fiona cringed at the thought of lying to the Agency, as that was something that usually did not end well. She cleared her throat and answered in a more hushed tone to support what she was about to say.
“He’s sleeping.”
The voice sounded even less patient than it had a moment ago. In fact now it was just angry.
“Why didn't you do it? You had orders.”
“The time was wrong. Too many civilians. Don't worry.”
“You have a job to do. We do not appreciate the delay. Take care of it.” The click on the other end of the phone was a stark reminder of her duty to the agency.
Fiona set down her phone with a wistful look on her face. She knew what she was supposed to do, and now that she had come all this way it was harder than she thought. She got out of bed, and took a bottle from the icebox. If there were ever a time for this, she thought. She poured herself a glass of rum and shot it back like it was nothing. The burning on her lips woke her up and she looked around for Dante.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she found him on the deck. He had a look on his face she had seen before. She stood behind him and cleared her throat.
“Dante- let me-“
“No. Don't. Everything I knew about you was a lie! How can I trust you again?”
Fiona took a hesitant step toward him, knowing better than to go any further.
“Because I was brought in to watch over you. It's the very reason you must trust me. And I ...” She looked down at her hands, suddenly nervous.
“No. Don't say it. Don't do this. You know as well as I do that it will only make this worse. You knew what this was when you agreed to it. You knew not to get emotionally involved.”
She snapped her head up to face him, and set her jaw in a determined manner.
“I know, I just-- you're right. You're always right, aren't you? We had an agreement, and I am a woman of my word...”
