The Whole Truth (A. Shaw 1)

“I’m sure he does, but I can’t tell him what he wants to hear.”

“So what do we do?”

“We could keep him drugged up until he’s healed a little more.”

“How did he get hurt?”

Frank looked at her incredulously. “What, you want me to give you a debriefing?”

“If he keeps working for you he’s going to end up dead, you know that, don’t you?”

“It’s a risky profession. We try to be as careful as we can.”

“Does that include having your own men shoot at him? Because that seems a bit much even for your ‘profession.’”

Frank spun around to stare at her. He was about to say something when the sounds of a commotion reached their ears. Katie and Frank raced out and headed toward Shaw’s room. Screams pierced the air, there was a crash like a table had been overturned. A door slammed open. Multiple pairs of feet were racing over the tile floor.

Another cry seemed to rise above all the others.

“That’s Shaw!” Frank exclaimed. “What the hell’s going on?”

Katie suddenly glanced down at her hands. “Oh my God!”

“What?” Frank said quickly.

“My purse. I left my purse in his room. My cell phone was in it. It has Internet capability.” Katie’s face turned deathly white.

“Son of a bitch!” Frank screamed as he rushed down the hall.

They turned the corner and stopped.

Shaw was standing at the other end of the corridor, his hospital gown nearly torn off, blood running down his arm and tubes hanging off his body. Katie saw her phone clutched in his bloodied hand.

Katie’s gaze spun to Shaw’s face and she found she couldn’t look away. His features held anguish and heartbreak like she had never witnessed before.

“Shaw!” she cried out and ran to him.

He had dropped to his knees by the time she reached him. She threw her arms around him, tears spilling down her face.

“Anna!” he screamed. “Anna!” He did not even seem to be aware that Katie was there.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she said into his ear. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

Hands pulled her away. People were shouting in French at her, but she wouldn’t let go. She couldn’t let go of him.

Then a voice barked at her in English. “He’s bleeding to death! Let him go! Or you’ll kill him, lady!”

Katie immediately released her grip, backed off, but continued to stare at Shaw as the hospital personnel put him on a gurney and whisked him away.

Frank glared at Katie, reached down, picked up her phone where Shaw had dropped it, and tossed it back to her.

“Thanks for all your help, James!” he said bitterly. “Next time, why don’t you just bring a gun and pop a round right in his brain? It’s quicker that way.” He stalked off.

Katie stared after him for a few moments then fearfully glanced down at the phone’s screen. Emblazoned across it was the headline “London Massacre.” She threw the Nokia down the hall and sank to the floor with fresh tears pouring down her face.

CHAPTER 47

SHAW SLOWLY PUT ON his loose-fitting shirt, careful to work around the thick bandage on his left arm. The wound was so deep and wide that the surgeon had had to staple the folds of skin back together. A plastic surgeon had also been called in and had done the best she could at the time. There would be scars, the doctor told Shaw, who really could have cared less.