Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence. ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Safe From Storms?
I hate playing a waiting game when the perp I'm after is waiting to kill me. Jim Barnes is a scary dude who can snipe and kill a man from 2 miles away. He did that in Afghanistan and could do that with ease on open farmland.
Clare and I are hunkered down on her farm and Jim is being surveilled, so what can go wrong?
Truth is, just about anything. In this case, the perp is one of our own with elite forces training. He can easily slip a tail and strike at us from almost anywhere.
So why give him some slack? Because we need more solid evidence than the circumstantial case we've built with our profiling. We need him to tip his hand and that means I'm going to have to be a target.
"You're crazy, Cam," Clare gasps, "Besides, Cyril would never go for that." She's right but I have no intention of letting this threat drag on indefinitely and force us to put our lives on hold.
Cyril is our commander and of course he'd never agree to our making ourselves a target. But on the other hand, how else are we going to make him play his hand?
"I know," I tell her, "but that's why we have to set the trap ourselves and only alert Cyril when Barnes takes the bait."
Her eyes are wide with disbelief. "Are you out of your mind—you want to voluntarily put a target on your back?"
"What would you rather do, cower here on the farm for the rest of our lives?"
"Don't go simple on me, Cam—it’s not that narrow a choice. Sure, we may have to be patient, but eventually, he or Robyn will make a mistake and we'll nab them"
I throw up my hands in frustration. "You know that's not going to happen—he waited two years before killing Marian and now he's got you in his sights."
"See? That's my point. We know it's the same M.O. but we don't know the motive for killing Marian. How can we be sure it's not a separate grudge? Hell, maybe Robyn's been slighted by other prospective lovers."
I shake my head. I'm adamant. "Just because we can't find a motive, we can't leap to the conclusion that she's jealous of any woman I happen to be with."
"Is that how you see me?" she flares. "I'm just the latest woman you happen to be with?"
I place my hands on her shoulders and stare directly into her eyes. "I meant that may be how Robyn sees it—as for me, I'm totally committed to you and don't want to lose you. I want to spend my life with you."
She goes silent a moment and then whispers, "Are you saying you want to marry me?"
I nod solemnly, "It's not the way I wanted to propose, but I mean it— every word. I love you, Clare and don't want this threat hanging over our heads. You said you're loveable and capable and I agree. So now, let's decide our own Fate."
She grudgingly relents. "Well, I guess if we're going to risk our lives to gain a future, we better have a good plan."
I nod in assent but inwardly am terrified too. Making ourselves a target for an elite forces sniper seems foolhardy, but being under a constant death threat is no way to live either.
To be continued…
© 2025, John J Geddes. All rights reserved
