An Agent Zero: Spy Thriller. The First Verses, Amun

ROME, ITALY Zero felt her presence before seeing her, early I'm his career he had learned, through trials and errors and few close calls and more than a few scars, to trust his instincts and intuition as much as his training. So when he felt the familiar sensation prickle the back of his neck, the tiny dark hairs there standing on end, he knew he was being watched. He moved to the window and with two fingers gently pushed back the curtain, slowly and no more than an inch, keeping all vital parts of his body behimd the relative safety of the window's frame. The Italian apartment was in the Sant'Angelo district, overlooking the Pizza Mattei, which summer, September had brought with it a cold front that had most tourists walking briskly to their destination rather than lingering for a photo op with the pizza's centerpiece, the Fontana delle Tartarighe, or "the Turtle Fountain" as it was often called, fittingly named for the perfectly sculpted turtles around the edge of the marble basi. And she was there. Standing just a few feet from the fountain's edge, both hands thrust into the pockets of a dark suede jacket. Her hair was the shade of blonde that most would assume came out of a bottle, though Zero knew it was natural. Her eyes were gray of slate, somehow managing to look dispassionate and scrutinizing at the same time, and directed right at the second-story window wuth the white curtains. At him "Damn," Zero sighed. If she knew where he was, then it was likely that they knew. He'd bet that she hadn't come motivations, he was very sure that she wasn't going to come to him. "Screw it." If this was how it was going to go down, so be it. He liftedthe Glock from the small dinning table behind him, pushed in a magazine, and racked a round into the chamber before tuckin it into the back of his plants. He slipped on a pair of loafers and left the apartment, takin the stone stairs slowly. As he passed beneath the archway that led to the puazxa, Zero fully expected a dozen agents to come swarming out from hidden places to arrest him. Or maybe they wouldn't bother with that. Maybe it woulf just be a single shot to his skull anf dome with. But nothing happened. She stood stock-still as he stepped out into the grey afternoon and paused about ten feet from her. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders so perfectly it was as if she'd just stepped out of a shampoo commercial. The chully breeze wafted the scent of her perfume. Them at a bar in Dusseldorf, laughing together as they went shot late into the night..... Stop it, he urged hseldf. There's no going back now. For a moment there was only silence between them. A bird cawed overhead as if voicing its displeasure at the rapid change in weather. "Tought I might find you here." Zero gave her nothing in return. Instead, he swept his gaze over the adjacent rooftops without moving his head. Maria smiled thinly. "I came alone," she assured him. "Morris and Reidigger, they told me I was wasting my time. That it was too obvious. But then I remembered what you once told me, that sometimes the best way to be.." "Take your hands out of your pockets," he demanded. The smile vanished. She pulled her hands out slowly and showed her empty palms. "I'm not here to kill you, Kent." Kent. Sge was the only one who still called him by that name. Agent Kent Steele of Special Activities Division Special Operations Group, Central Intelligence Agency. Codename: Agent Zero. But he wasn't an agent, not anymore. He'd been disavowed. He wasn't Kent either. He was just.... Zero. A nobody. And she was Maria Johansson, aka Agent Marigold. They'd worked together for yeas in Spec Ops Group, along with his best friend Alan Reidigger and, more recently, the young wunderkind Clint Morris. The four of them had been a team. A damn good one at that. Until... "Then why'd you come?" again at the window over his head."Are you going to invite me up, or...?" If she was telling the truth— and Maria had never lied to him before— then he knew what she wanted to talk about, and he didn’t want to talk about it. Still, she wasn’t just going to walk away and Zero didn’t like the exposure of the piazza. He gave her a curt nod, and she followed him under the archway, up the stone stairs, to the second door on the left. The Italian apartment was a safe house, one that he and his team had established secretly in case any of them were forced to go dark. Not even the agency was aware of it. The name on the lease was fake, and the building’s owner believed it was rented by a wealthy American family that offered it up to their friends and business associates for holidays in Rome. He’d needed to lie low for a couple of days while his bruised ribs healed from a recent run-in with a trio of Slovenian smugglers, and he’dpicked an obvious place on purpose- though too obvious, as Maria hadpointed out. He hated that she'd used something he'd taught her against him. He stepped into the apartment first,and then turned while she was still inthe doorway. "Are you armed?" "Of course l am." Then to his pointed look she added, "A Ruger. In my coat" "Take it off." Maria shrugged out of her jacket and Zero draped it on the back of a dining chair. He looked her up and down; there was nowhere on her slim, athletic build that she could have been hiding a g*n. Though she could have a knife in the black Italian boots she wasbwearing... "You want to frisk me?" she asked sardonically. He shook his head. "'m going to make coffee. Would you like some?" "No. Thank you.' She closed the apartment door behind her.How long have you been here?" He stepped into the adjacent kitchen, barely more than a nook, and retrieved a can of grounds. “A day and a half. I was going to leave in the morning. But now…” But now he’d have to leave that night. That afternoon. As soon as possible, in case Maria decided to report his whereabouts to the agency. “Kent.” Her voice was a feather stroke on his ear, and when he turned she was right behind him, less than arm’s reach away. Her perfume… Stop it. There’s no going back. “Come in from the cold, Kent. Come with me.” He shook his head. “Can’t. I’m not done.” He peeled the lid from the can. She sighed and touched his arm. “Look, I… I never got to say I was sorry. About what happened. To Kate—” “Don’t.” The word punched its way from his mouth with the force of a cannonball, and he punctuated it with asolid fist slamming down on the counter. The coffee can tipped and grounds spilled across the floor. Maria took a half-step backward, her hand immediately going toward the small of her back. Something hidden there. A knife, most likely. "Don't say her name," Zero said hoarsely. "Just don't." "Okay" Maria agreed quietly. "But you need to stop this." "Im not finished—" "It's not your job anymore" "It's the only thing that matters!" he shouted. Maria shook her head at that. "You've lost your way." Zero leaned against the sink and took a deep breath. Kate Lawson was dead. The official report from the coroner stated that she had suffered an embolism that caused a massive ischemic stroke--a fancy way of saying that she had dropped dead walking to her car after work. One moment, alive. The next, dead. In an instant. She was the mother of two girls, Sara and Maya Lawson, ages twelve and fourteen respectively. Her husband, Reid Lawson, was an adjunct professor of European history. At the time of Kate's death, Reid had been out of the country. The cover story was that he'd been researching a textbook he was co-authoring. Meanwhile, Agent Zero had been hunting for known members of a terrorist cell known only as the Fraternity. It was no embolism. That much he knew. There wasa culprit, and while he had his suspicions he knew whose fault it ultimately was. It was his fault. She'd been killed because of him. The girls were staying with Kate's sister, their Aunt Linda in New York. They didn't understand why their father was absent so soon after their mother's untimely death. They didn't understand that he couldn't be the man he needed to be for them right now. Only one thing made sense to him: the iob. The op. He had been hot on the heels of top-level Fraternity members when he was forced home to attend a funeral. When it was done, he lost himself in the hunt. He tore a b****y path across Eastern Europe and into Germany. France. Further. He tortured anyone who might have information. He promised them amnesty for intel, and then he killed them anyway. The agency had tried to call him back in. He ignored them. They said he was out of control. They disavowed Agent Kent Steele. And now the CIA had sent his own team after him. That was the ultimate betrayal. "Come in with me. Please. I've been promised there won't be reprisal. Take some leave. Spend time with your girls." Zero glanced down at the coffee grounds spilled across the floor, under the table, over his loafers. "l should clean this up." He bent to pick up the can and winced with the effort. "Are you hurt? Let me see." "Im fine." "Let me see" she said firmly. Maria was a lot of things. Persuasive was among them. He stood with another groan, letting her tug up his sweater to expose his black and purple midsection. She sucked in a breath. "Christ, Kent, it looks like you were hit bya car." " yeah. I was."' Maria scoffed."This should at least be wrapped." Her fingertips probed his ribcage gently, and he hissed a breath through his teeth. "Im sorry. Anything broken?" "I don't think so." "You shouldn't be traveling like this. At least stay the night." "No. I leave when you leave." She muttered something under her breath in Ukrainian. Zero, fluent in Russian, was pretty sure he picked out the words "stubborn" and "horse's ass." Then I stay" Maria paused, switching back to English. "Then I stay too. You're hurt. Ill tell Morris and Reidigger that I didn't find anything. But it got late. I stayed the night in Rome"' Her hand was resting on his abdomen, her touch warm despite the weather. "You would do that?" "Of course l would" she said quietly. "We're friends. But. only if you want me to" He breathed in her scent. It was the scent of racing Vespas in the Italian countryside. A gunfight in Sarajevo. Getting sloppy drunk in Germany. An attempted bombing in Paris. Too much wine in a suite in Milan. That was the night they'd very nearly.. But they hadn't. He was loyal. She knew that. His fingers gently grazed the small of her back, trailing downward. With his thumb and index finger he deftly snatched the butterfly knife from her back pocket. Maria was a lot of things. Trustworthy was among them. But Kate had always said he had trust issues. "Yeah" he said quietly. "Stay"