Attempted Assassination(10)

After the restless night, he awoke with the distinct desire to go to Pioneer Square today, which he didn't understand. Nothing there held his interest, but he would go. He always believed in following his gut.

Since arriving in Seattle, he definitely hadn't been himself. The strange dreams, the headaches, the feeling of déjà vu  …  he wondered if he had caught a bug of some sort in San Francisco. He'd finish this job, then ask for some time off.

He had to report back to Group Nine within two days after the assassination had been completed. It had become standard operating procedure for agents to have two days' leeway after the kill before making contact with their handler in case they needed to lay low, or they had trouble extracting themselves from their assignment. San Francisco had gone off without a hitch, so he'd been able to meet his handler right away. 

He checked his watch-he'd finished the stairs two minutes earlier than yesterday. At least one thing had gone right. He climbed back up to his own floor and went into his room.

After showering, he cleaned his gun and silencer. Tomorrow would be the day, and he felt ready. He had the layout of the hotel down pat. One more quick sweep through the kitchen, and he'd be set.

Putting on a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt, he slid the gun into his back waistband, leaving the shirt hanging over the weapon, and headed down to the lobby.

As he exited the elevator, he winked at Brenda, the front desk clerk. Yes, she definitely had it going on in the looks department, but he had no desire to sleep with her, although he couldn't for the life of him say why he had told her he was married.

The blonde woman from yesterday entered his thoughts again, and he quickly pushed her aside as the headache started up again.

He walked through the restaurant and into the kitchen as if he belonged there. He'd always found that if one walked in with confidence, no one questioned their motives or where they were going. Nodding hello to a few people he didn't know, he scanned the area. Thankfully, they kept the kitchen clear of clutter, and the pathways offered an easy escape route. He came to the back door and pushed on it to make sure it wouldn't be locked. It opened up into a back alley lined with dumpsters, which seemed to be a smoking spot for the kitchen employees. Glancing all around the alley, he felt confident that if things went sideways tomorrow and he couldn't walk out the front door, he'd make it out this way.

He strode back into hotel and made his way to the lobby. Once he reached the front door, he asked the bellhop to hail him a taxi.

Sliding into the seat, he greeted the driver, a young man who didn't look happy with his job.

"Take me to Pioneer Square, please."

He had no idea why the area called to him so strongly, but he would definitely find out.



"Where are you headed to today, Jordan?" Garrett murmured as he steered the Audi out into traffic, making sure to keep a car in between them and the cab.

Ava's stomach fluttered with nerves. They'd been sitting outside the hotel for almost an hour, and she had become afraid that Jordan had already left for the day. Just when she had been about to suggest they give up, he'd walked out the front door looking calm, confident, and sexy as all hell.

She clenched her hands into fists in her lap. It was odd wanting Jordan back so badly, but being so afraid of him at the same time. She knew the old Jordan, the one she had married, would never lay a rough hand on her, but this one  …  this one killed people for a living, and she didn't know what to expect from him.

The fear of the unknown strikes again.

She tried to remember the layout of the city, but couldn't. She'd spent four days here when she'd come with Tara, and when she'd returned with Jordan, they'd opted to skip the city and drive directly up to Whidbey Island, where he'd proposed. No, she really had no idea where they were headed.

After a few moments, things started to look familiar, and it came to her. "He's going to Pioneer Square. It's where we met."

About a block away from their destination, the cab stopped and Jordan got out, walking toward the square.

Garrett sighed as he looked around. "I don't know where we're going to park."

She glanced about desperately. It was a good sign that Jordan headed to the place they had first met. Maybe he had remembered her. She had to be at the square when he arrived, or shortly after so he could see her there. Hopefully, they'd be able to jog his memory even more.

Desperation and hope clawed at her as they drove slowly. This could be it-this could be the very thing that jolted his brain, and it really couldn't get any more perfect. He would see her in the very place they had met.



       
         
       
        

Jordan took a right, which would put him directly on the path to the square.

As they came to a stoplight, she unfastened her seatbelt and opened the door. "Just let me out here. I'll run up one block, and then go into the area on the other side."

She didn't wait for Garrett to answer, but as she shut the door, she heard him curse.



Jordan stood in the middle of Pioneer Square and glanced around. Large, green trees offered shade to the groups of homeless people gathered. Tourists and locals moved around them as they headed for their destinations.

Looking up, he noted the amazing Romanesque architecture on the brick and stone buildings that had been built after the great Seattle Fire of 1889.

He had no idea how he'd become acquainted with architecture from over a century ago, and a small chill traveled down his spine.

As he studied the cobblestone beneath his feet, he also realized the square didn't resemble a square at all, but more a triangle. The same feeling he'd had at Pike's Place Market overcame him-the distinct sensation he'd been here before. Maybe he had before the accident that wiped his memory, and he struggled to try to come up with any type of recollection.

The summer sun warmed his back, and a bit of peace washed through him. This place seemed to bring him happiness, although he had no idea why.

Frankly, it didn't matter. The people moving past him, the chatter, the cars going by  …  it all became background noise, and for a moment, he stood still staring at the cobblestones, enjoying the calm, joyous feeling in his soul. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so content.

Sighing, he glanced up and gasped when he saw her, his brief period of peace crashing down around him.

The blonde woman.

She walked toward him with long, graceful strides, as if she came right at him. Panic tore through him as he looked to his left. A sign pointing to the Underground Tour caused his head to start to spin, the feeling of complete satisfaction now gone.

He glanced from the woman to the sign, feeling as though once she reached him, his world would literally explode.

As she came closer, the pain started at the base of his neck and his vision went blurry. With her at ten feet near him, he heard voices, a conversation from long ago.

"Look, I don't mean to come across as a stalker or possessive, but I have an idea. Give her a call. If she's feeling better, I'll get you back to your hotel. If not, we can have dinner together."

He began to sweat, his knees weakening, almost as if he had no control over his limbs. His movements felt slow and staggered, almost as if he'd been drugged and was slowly being pulled to unconsciousness.

She was practically on top of him now, and panic rose within him. If she were in town to hurt him, now would be the time. 

"If you want to have dinner with me, of course."

He stared into sky blue eyes, wisps of blonde hair waving at his peripheral vision.

She grinned, a smile so sweet and bright, it reminded him of the sun, and he stared at her lush lips and pearly teeth.

"Okay, I'll call her."

The woman was now within two feet of him, and he blindly reached out, grabbing her arm.

She gasped and tried to pull away from him, but he held on tight, probably tighter than he should have.

His voice came out a guttural whisper, as if he had a strong hand squeezing his throat. "Who are you?"

She struggled against him, while the pain in his head became just about unbearable. The whole area spun, and he felt like sat on a rollercoaster as his body swayed and jerked. He kept his gaze trained on the blonde as a look of horror crossed her face.

He got ahold of her other arm and began shaking her, barely able to press the words from his mouth. "Who. Are. You?"

She fought him, and her sunglasses flew from her face as she thrashed about.

"Jordan! You're hurting me!"

Sky blue eyes.

Those eyes. He knew those eyes.

She knew his name.

As he tried to figure it all out through the heavy haze and pain in his head, a man ran up beside the woman and pushed him to the ground.

Clasping his hands to his head, he groaned. The agony that railed throughout his body was overridden by the feeling he was in grave danger. This woman knew him.

The man bent down next to him, his dark gaze concerned. "Jordan! Let me get you some help."

He rolled away from the guy, and the woman dropped to her knees next to him, grabbing his shoulders. His throat constricted to the point where he couldn't breathe, and for the first time he could remember in his life, the cold claws of fear gripped his chest.

"Jordan, please let us help you. We can get you to safety. We can-"

He removed his gun from his waistband and pointed it at her. As she cried out, the man stepped behind her and yanked her to her feet.