On Thin Ice by Anne Stuart Read Free Book Online Page A

other, two trained assassins so caught up in passion that it could have turned deadly. He didn’t think so. The last he’d seen of Isobel she was a different woman. Some of the shadows had lifted, and the bright southern sunshine would keep them at bay. The sun, and Killian.
    He still couldn’t figure out how she could have discovered something that had eluded even his substantial efforts for the last three years, but she’d somehow managed to ferret out the truth. Finn MacGowan was alive.
    He still couldn’t believe it. MacGowan had disappeared in the bloodbath Harry Thomason had instigated almost four years ago, a debacle that had ended with the loss of five of their best agents, the disappearance of Isobel Lambert, and the death of Thomason himself, just before the old bastard had been about to be knighted for his noble deeds, may he rot in hell. Peter had turned over every rock, looked everywhere for MacGowan, only to be assured that he had died in a gunfight in Callivera.
    When all the time he’d been held prisoner, with the Guiding Light waiting patiently for word from Thomason on what to do with him.
    At first he hadn’t been able to figure out why they’d waited so long, but once he’d had a place to start it hadn’t take him long to come up with the answers. He could hack into anything, leaving no trace, and he found the hidden account in no time. Thomason had set up a blind trust, sending automatic payments to the ever-bribable Guiding Light to keep MacGowan on ice. He could imagine just what he’d been through. Rebels like F.A.R.C. in Callivera were finally releasing prisoners who’d been held for up to seven years. The Guiding Light would have waited longer, seeing as they were being well-paid.
    Even that would have been no guarantee that MacGowan had survived. The rebels would have continued taking the cash even if Finn had inconveniently expired. But the son of a bitch had finally managed to escape, and his movement was what had alerted Isobel in her island sanctuary. He’d taken off with a few of his fellow hostages, disappearing into the heavily-forested mountains with his captors hot on his ass.
    Peter leaned back, considering. If Isobel had even a decent approximation of where they were she would have told him. Right now he had a country and nothing else, and no one he could trust to send after MacGowan. The rest of the operatives were just too new to the game.
    He could always go himself. Genevieve would just look at him out of huge, sad eyes, but she’d let him go. Taka could take over the day to day running of the Committee – handing out assignments, gathering intel, and he could pull his cousin Reno in if need be. Peter had no delusions about his being irreplaceable – no one was. And Taka could be just as ruthless and coldly deliberate, if not more so, than he could. His wife would be just as happy if he stayed put for a while, and so would Taka.
    But he’d promised. Even if Isobel wouldn’t hold him to it, he’d promised not to walk into a firestorm again, not if he could help it.
    Tomas was on the ground there, and MacGowan would go to him. Tomas was an independent contractor, but he was the best man in the business for false papers. MacGowan would go straight to him, and Peter would make certain he had enough money to get where he wanted to go.
    He had a good idea where MacGowan would be headed. Back to England to kill the man who had left him to rot in a South American jungle. Namely, Peter Madsen.
    He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to stop him long enough to tell him. In fact, he wasn’t sure MacGowan’s rage wasn’t justified. He should have made certain. But when operatives disappeared it was hard to verify they’d been cancelled.
    He would wait. With an eye out for an extremely pissed off Irishman out for blood.
    At least, for now, the CIA was the least of his worries.
     
     
    Beth was past exhaustion, past hunger, past pain. She simply kept walking, her eyes