Lise’s change revealed itself in a traumatic event that occurred one day when she returned from riding across the wide estate. She left her horse at the stable, then made her way through the stand of trees to the house. She entered through the kitchen, riding boots clicking on the tiled floor. From the kitchen she made her way down the wide hall, wondering why the house was so unusually quiet.
No one was about, which she found strange. There should have been at least a couple of Hegre’s bodyguards in sight.
Lise sensed something wrong.
As she passed Julius Hegre’s study, she heard voices. One belonged to Hegre. The other she didn’t recognize.
She neared the closed doors and heard the unknown voice suddenly rise.
She hesitated for no longer than a couple of seconds before instinct took over. The situation was not right. She knew that for a fact, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. All she sensed was Julius being in danger, and she had to do something about it.
The voices rose higher.
Accusations.
Anger.
Then there came the muffled sound of a shot from behind the doors.
She hit the closed double doors with her left shoulder. They flew open.
Julius was down on one knee, right hand clasped to his right side. The bright color of blood seeped through his fingers.
One of Julius’s bodyguards was sprawled unconscious on the floor, a deep gash in the side of his head streaming blood.
Ten feet away was a man she recognized as Peter Karpov, a business rival of her uncle’s. He held a large pistol in his left hand, a Desert Eagle, already bringing it back on target.
Karpov half turned as Lise crashed into the room, made to twist the pistol in her direction. She didn’t break stride, just kept moving, and Karpov had no chance to avoid her. She slammed into him bodily, the force of her forward motion knocking him off balance. As she struck him, she clamped both hands around his left wrist, twisting against the bone until it snapped. Karpov squealed at the burst of pain, And he felt himself going down. He slammed to the floor, the impact knocking the breath from his body, leaving him momentarily stunned. The pistol was jarred from his grip. It struck the floor, bouncing end over end, and Lise took a long stride toward it. She snatched it up.
The weapon settled on Karpov as he rose to his knees, gripping his broken wrist. He saw the black ring of the muzzle pointing at him. It was the last thing he ever saw.
Lise’s finger squeezed back on the trigger.
The pistol bucked in her grasp as it fired. Before the shell case hit the floor she fired a second time.
The slugs slammed into Karpov’s head, entering just above his left eye. They cored in, shattering bone and cleaving through his brain, before erupting in a bloody shower from the back of his skull. The impact threw Karpov off his knees and dropped him to the floor. He landed hard, the looseness of sudden death having removed any physical control. He sprawled on his back, half of his head missing.
Lise stood upright, the heavy pistol sagging toward the floor. Breathing deeply, she turned, her first impulse to check on Julius. She felt only concern for him. The fact she had just killed someone had no impact on her. There was no revulsion.
No regret.
Nor was there any kind of vicarious thrill. It had simply been something that had to be done.
“Are you all right?” she asked. Then gave an embarrassed smile. “Of course you are not all right. You have just been shot.”
She moved to be closer to him. It was then she became aware of the pistol in her hand. The Israeli Desert Eagle was a .357 Magnum. It would become her personal weapon of choice from that day on. She stared at the pistol for a moment. Then she moved to place the weapon on Hegre’s desk before she turned her full attention to him.
“Let’s get you into a chair,” she said.
Lise helped him into one of the leather armchairs. She stripped off her riding jacket, took off her white shirt, folded it and wadded it over Hegre’s wound, pressing it tight. She slipped the jacket back on and buttoned it as she heard footsteps approaching along the corridor. Moments later Dominic Melchior, her uncle’s lawyer and friend, stepped into the room. He was closely followed by a couple more of Julius’s men. Melchior was unarmed, while the others carried handguns.
Melchior took in the scene quickly. He raised a hand to the men.
“Get on the phone. I want the doctor here ASAP to attend to Julius, a cleanup team to get rid of that mess on the floor and attention for Hendly. Do it now.”
One of the bodyguards turned and quickly left the room, closing the doors behind him. The other man took up a position close to the door.
“He shot you, but you still got the drop on him?” Melchior said to Hegre.
Hegre shook his head slowly.
“No. Not me. It was Lise.”
Melchior looked across at her. She returned his stare with unflinching steadiness.
“She tackled him. He dropped the gun and she picked it up and shot him,” Hegre said.
Melchior looked from Lise to the bloody corpse on the floor. A spreading pool of blood had fanned out from beneath Karpov’s shattered skull.
“It looks as if all those martial arts and shooting lessons are paying off,” he stated.
“They will from now on,” Lise replied. “I intend to be his personal bodyguard. Where he goes, I go. Argue with me, Dom, and I’ll pick that gun back up and shoot you, too.”
Hegre raised his head and looked at Melchior.
“I wouldn’t argue with her, Dom.”
Melchior nodded. “I believe you. And I believe her.”
“Where were you all? Lise demanded, her voice taking on a hard tone.
“Karpov’s people came in from the garden, taking us by surprise,” Melchior said. “They had us under their guns before we could react. No excuses, Julius, they caught us off guard. Two of our people are dead. They shot them in front of us.”
Lise glanced at Hegre. He had a pale sheen on his face.
“My fault,” he said. “I should have read the signs earlier. Karpov has been threatening to move on us for months. I didn’t believe he would do it in such a crude way.”
“They shouldn’t have been able to get so close,” Lise snapped. “Things have become slack around here. Everyone has become complacent and let security slide. That won’t happen again.”
“I have to admit she is right, Julius,” Melchior said.
Dominic Melchior had been with Hegre from day one. He was, apart from being the organization’s lawyer, Hegre’s consigliere, and the man who often acted as Hegre’s conscience. Slim, gray-haired and always dressed impeccably, Melchior offered counsel to his friend, uttered the words that could calm Hegre and make him see the right path to choose. He had an uncanny insight into what went on in the minds of others. Hegre had an unshakable trust in Melchior’s words of wisdom.
“Where are Karpov’s men now?” Lise asked.
“Our backup team caught their man watching the approach to the estate,” Melchior said. “They caught him, and he admitted our people were being held in the garage. They got the drop on Karpov’s men. We dealt with them and headed back to the house. We heard the shots as we came inside.”
“How many Karpov men are there?” Lise asked.
“Four,” Melchior said.
Watching Lise, he saw the cold gleam in her eyes. Her expression was without a trace of emotion. She reached for the Desert Eagle and picked it up. She stared at Hegre for a time, then turned to where the bodyguard stood.
“All four of them,” she said. “I want them buried with Karpov. See to it our people are taken care of properly.”
The bodyguard glanced at Hegre.
“Do what she says,” Hegre said. “Make it quick. Have the place cleaned up and get everything back to normal. Tell everyone from now on Miss Delaware speaks for me.”
From that day on Lise Delaware became Hegre’s near-constant companion. She proved more adept at the task than anyone previously. She took control of Hegre’s security and within three months he had promoted her to his second in command.
At first there was resentment from within the ranks, but Lise commanded respect by proving that she was far better than any of them. In time she was accepted by them and Hegre himself, though he would never admit it openly. She was physically challenged by a member of the group who viewed her as merely a favored upstart. When he disrespected her in a room full of people, Lise put him down with two moves. The moaning guy was dragged away by two of Lise’s personal team. He was never seen again.
The incident confirmed Lise’s skill at her job. She was given more responsibility with the group, Hegre trusting her with more and more important tasks. He kept the fact to himself, never voicing that he felt safer than he had for some time. He had become aware of her true dedication, coupled with a natural affinity with the needs of the group. There was, as well, a standoffish trait to her character that suited her position in life, a detachment he put down to her early life with an uncaring father and a depressive mother. Lise had learned at an early age not to put much trust in others. She had developed a hardness to protect herself from the harshness of life. Not to become too dependent on those around her. It gave her an aura of aloofness that only Julius Hegre himself could penetrate. No matter what happened around her, Lise held Hegre in the highest regard.
Her true worth was demonstrated when she picked up on his unease over a deal being brokered through the Sicilian Union Corse. Hegre had expanded from the U.S.A. over a number of years, making deals in Europe and Asia where they offered assistance to other criminal groups, to the mutual benefit of all concerned. As always, the acquisition of additional wealth was one of the prime motivators in any business deal. The Sicilian criminal institution had entered into a deal with Hegre that involved money laundering on a large scale.
When the deal was almost complete Hegre’s accountants had discovered that the local Union Corse group had been skimming money from the operation. When Hegre had asked for an accounting, the local head man had simply turned aside the challenge, accusing Hegre of being little more than foreign crooks trying to fleece the honorable Sicilian clan. It was an insult to Julius Hegre. In all his dealings, criminal though they may have been, he had never treated a business partner badly, had never cheated on a deal. Hegre felt strongly about his reputation, and the Union Corse insult hurt him.
Without any outward show of concern over the matter, Lise had begged off her responsibilities for a few days, and because of her tireless efforts over the past few years Hegre had granted her request. Lise had made sure a team of her best security people were assigned to stay at Hegre’s side. Lise had used her authority to commandeer one of the group’s aircraft and take a flight to France. Once there she had used her Hegre influence to recruit help and had traveled to Marseilles where the Union Corse chapter was based.
Two days after her arrival in the French city the two top Union Corse men were killed. Each man died from a shot to the head from a high-powered rifle: one on the street, the second while he stood at the window of his office overlooking the Marseilles waterfront.
The shooter was never identified, the weapon never found. The assassinations were put down to intergang rivalry. The French police ran an investigation that petered out quickly. The killing of local criminals was not an entirely original occurrence, and if the truth was known, the deaths were not going to cause many cops any loss of sleep.
The intergang scenario was true to a point, though it was in fact less rivalry and more a matter of honor.
Lise Delaware left France as quietly as she had arrived. On the flight back to the U.S. she slept comfortably, emerging from the plane refreshed and in no way affected by what she had done.
The killing of two Sicilian gangsters in France was not big news in the States. It received some reporting in newspapers but not enough to garner much reaction.
Except from Julius Hegre.
He read of the incidents and quickly associated the location of the killings and the Union Corse with his own fallout with the crime association. That and Lise Delaware going AWOL for a few days made him come to a conclusion.
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