burial. In accordance with Jewish custom, he wasn’t embalmed. There was no viewing, and his body was wrapped in a shroud inside a plain wooden coffin. His body was in the ground fifteen hours after his death.
Later Maliha investigated the top floor of the building where the sniper’s shot originated. She found several scratches on the windowsill. An experienced sniper left no trace—the scratches indicated that the rifle had been moved around, as if the shooter was hesitant.
An experienced sniper like Jake wouldn’t hesitate , she couldn’t help thinking. Is this proof enough that he wasn’t here?
I n the aftermath, she found that Abiyram had changed his will to include her, since she came back into his life. Anything in his apartment related to the intelligence business was hauled away by the government, as expected. Abiyram’s money went to his brother. What was left, the personal accumulations of a brilliant, worldly, and well-traveled man, belonged to Maliha. Unable to stay in his apartment to sort and appreciate her newly acquired treasures, she had everything packed and sent home to Chicago on her jet.
Reeling with the notion that she was a destructive force ripping through the lives of others, she wondered if this might be a good time to break up her team. They all had had lives of their own before they aligned their goals with hers. Maybe it was just too dangerous. In a short period, she’d had to deal with the loss of two old friends, Arnie and the Israeli. Although Arnie’s death wasn’t a certainty, she didn’t hold out much hope for finding him alive.
Why not turn them loose? None of them need me to survive. We’re friends, but time and distance could take care of that. Maybe it’s time for my cover identity to meet an unfortunate death or just vanish. Bye-bye, Marsha Winters.
Maliha had gone through numerous reinventions in her long life. She couldn’t remain in the same identity and stay young while others around her aged. So periodically, she would have to move on and establish a new life, usually by moving to a different country. Setting her new life up well took a year or two of planning, but in the meantime, she could live in isolation on the island she’d inherited from Lucius. Unfortunately, the first time she’d visited there was after he’d kidnapped her in an attempt to gain her trust, but they’d smoothed that over after she’d broken his neck.
And Rabishu’s offer for her to return to being an Ageless assassin was still open.
No emotional attachments. No tragedies. No concern about friends, because I wouldn’t have any. No more pain, because of instant healing. Immortality. Sounds like a damn good package.
She’d told Yanmeng she’d never do it, though, and he’d called her worthy. Balanced against all the temptation, Yanmeng’s respect was enough to hold her back.
I will stay rogue. There’s more to this than balancing my scales and regaining my soul. Only a rogue has the motivation and skills to retrieve the shards and kill the demons. Without my commitment, how long will the Earth have to wait before there’s another rogue stupid enough to try?
She decided to call Amaro for an update. He didn’t answer his phone, so she tried Hound, using an encrypted line.
“Hey, Hound,” she said. “Do you know why Amaro isn’t answering his phone?”
“Yeah. He’s on a cruise. Took along some dancer he met name of Trixy, with a y. I told him he’d have to have a pole installed in his cabin, and last I heard he was considering it.”
“Oh. So he probably hasn’t left his cabin, yet.”
“If you really need to talk to him, I can get him on the ship’s radio, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Don’t send him an email either, unless it’s encrypted. Shipboard Internet security sucks, or so he tells me.”
“He just told you that to keep you from bothering him.”
“I’d go for that. Listen, it looks like the whole incident is blowing over.”
“I’ve been
Later Maliha investigated the top floor of the building where the sniper’s shot originated. She found several scratches on the windowsill. An experienced sniper left no trace—the scratches indicated that the rifle had been moved around, as if the shooter was hesitant.
An experienced sniper like Jake wouldn’t hesitate , she couldn’t help thinking. Is this proof enough that he wasn’t here?
I n the aftermath, she found that Abiyram had changed his will to include her, since she came back into his life. Anything in his apartment related to the intelligence business was hauled away by the government, as expected. Abiyram’s money went to his brother. What was left, the personal accumulations of a brilliant, worldly, and well-traveled man, belonged to Maliha. Unable to stay in his apartment to sort and appreciate her newly acquired treasures, she had everything packed and sent home to Chicago on her jet.
Reeling with the notion that she was a destructive force ripping through the lives of others, she wondered if this might be a good time to break up her team. They all had had lives of their own before they aligned their goals with hers. Maybe it was just too dangerous. In a short period, she’d had to deal with the loss of two old friends, Arnie and the Israeli. Although Arnie’s death wasn’t a certainty, she didn’t hold out much hope for finding him alive.
Why not turn them loose? None of them need me to survive. We’re friends, but time and distance could take care of that. Maybe it’s time for my cover identity to meet an unfortunate death or just vanish. Bye-bye, Marsha Winters.
Maliha had gone through numerous reinventions in her long life. She couldn’t remain in the same identity and stay young while others around her aged. So periodically, she would have to move on and establish a new life, usually by moving to a different country. Setting her new life up well took a year or two of planning, but in the meantime, she could live in isolation on the island she’d inherited from Lucius. Unfortunately, the first time she’d visited there was after he’d kidnapped her in an attempt to gain her trust, but they’d smoothed that over after she’d broken his neck.
And Rabishu’s offer for her to return to being an Ageless assassin was still open.
No emotional attachments. No tragedies. No concern about friends, because I wouldn’t have any. No more pain, because of instant healing. Immortality. Sounds like a damn good package.
She’d told Yanmeng she’d never do it, though, and he’d called her worthy. Balanced against all the temptation, Yanmeng’s respect was enough to hold her back.
I will stay rogue. There’s more to this than balancing my scales and regaining my soul. Only a rogue has the motivation and skills to retrieve the shards and kill the demons. Without my commitment, how long will the Earth have to wait before there’s another rogue stupid enough to try?
She decided to call Amaro for an update. He didn’t answer his phone, so she tried Hound, using an encrypted line.
“Hey, Hound,” she said. “Do you know why Amaro isn’t answering his phone?”
“Yeah. He’s on a cruise. Took along some dancer he met name of Trixy, with a y. I told him he’d have to have a pole installed in his cabin, and last I heard he was considering it.”
“Oh. So he probably hasn’t left his cabin, yet.”
“If you really need to talk to him, I can get him on the ship’s radio, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Don’t send him an email either, unless it’s encrypted. Shipboard Internet security sucks, or so he tells me.”
“He just told you that to keep you from bothering him.”
“I’d go for that. Listen, it looks like the whole incident is blowing over.”
“I’ve been
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