Chase had cleared away the breakfast dishes, poured them each fresh coffees, and they sat together once again on the comfortable front room sofa. Paula had listened to his assessment of their situation, admitting to herself that once again she was out of her depth.

"I can't believe that two years later, after Rytex had such trouble getting the drug to market, and how quickly it became a success, that there would be any reason for this- this criminal behaviour."

"Remember I once told you how these people think? How they have long memories and a very long reach?"

"But to what end? Why kill Sandford? We had the drug tested properly, it went into production and immediately showed huge returns."

"Simple, he wasn't needed for funding anymore, and his part in the blow-up at the end didn't endear him to the Doc."

"You keep mentioning my uncle like he's some master criminal I'd find on Batman or some such."

"Those guys don't know evil, trust me, Paula. Doc is a very, very dangerous man who works for very, very dangerous people."

"He works for our government!" She blurted.

"Correction. People within our government."

It was still too much to swallow, and she argued. "And you believe he will actually be after you here, after so long?"

"It's a given. He won't stop looking – and I'll bet good money when you flew out of the country, your destination was on his phone as you took off."
"But why would you let me come then?"

He set his coffee down. "Do you remember the man we left in the house when it was all over?"

She nodded slowly. "You went back inside and when you came out you said he didn't make it . . . you killed him." Her face paled.

"He was already dead, Paula. I phoned your uncle and told him he was to leave you alone forever or I would tell the police where to find his man, who would recover enough to happily save his own skin. He said I was a dead man, but he would honour the part about you if his man couldn't talk. I told him I would take care of it."

The fact that he left himself a target in exchange for her safety completely confounded all her previous conceptions of who and what he was. She could only sit and stare. He saw her reluctant shrug and he took her hand.

"Paula, Sanford was the first, you and I are next on his list. I couldn't help you with you up there and me here."

"What can you do? He could send anyone, how would you know? What about your deal?"

"He'll have found out for sure that his man was dead. It was a thin hope, but I didn't have much faith in it. And my two years here haven't been all lying in the sun. I have a small network of reliable people who monitor certain situations and keep me informed."

"Like Joseph?"

"He has helped, certainly, but I mean other covert sources."

She stood and walked to the window, gazing out at the lush scenery. "So you believe he is still after me – us? How dangerous is it really, Chase?"

"One to ten? Let's say two years ago was an eight – this could be worse."

"But you're just sitting here, what will you do?"

"It's a large island, Paula, they won't have a map to my door, and I told you, I have a pretty resourceful network here."

"So you're just going to sit and wait for them?"

"I can't go on the offensive to something I don't know. Besides, here I have the advantage."

Coming back to the middle of the room, she stood, toeing the carpet. "Are you still- do you . . .?"

"I'm not retired, if that's what you're asking." Chase sighed and sat forward, hands clasped. "Look, Paula, I can't change my life and just forget my past."

"But what if you did retire? Why couldn't you?" His brief laugh sounded disparaging, and she bridled. "Is that such a humorous question?"

"Only because you don't understand how a career like mine works."

"Well I'm not too stupid to understand if it's explained." She huffed.

"Okay, fair enough." He patted the sofa beside him. "Sit and I'll explain."

Paula sat - stubbornly - her composure stiff and determined. Chase showed a rueful smile and began.

"My profession is based on the illusion of trust. My clients trust me to carry out their requests for an agreed upon financial reimbursement, as well as a promise of complete secrecy. I trust my clients to honour that exact same promise.

"The truth is, I have all the original material I was given with respect to their targets, stored safely away, in case that promise is threatened to be broken. Conversely, if they were smart, they have proof of our agreement as well. It's expected insurance against either party breaking that promise. My retiring could send an uneasy message to those clients, and what is happening right now with Doc, could become a flood if they become concerned over my integrity."

"You mean you can't quit what you do?" She pressed.

"I can refuse jobs, but too many and the word would spread." He gave a small shrug. "You are the perfect example." His shrug turned to a smile.

"That's- it's despicable."

"I am who you met two years ago, Paula, and always will be. Difference is, this time it's not a job – it's a necessity – for both of us."

She threw up her hands and spun away again back to the window. "This is ridiculous. I have a respectable position with a large organization, a home, friends . . ." The hands kept gesticulating. "I could go home and tell the authorities everything. They could handle it."

Chance groaned. "I told you once you needed watering . . . well now would be a good time." The reference had her bristling, and she shot him a withering look. "Your uncle is a secret CIA killer who, two years ago, hired a hit man to kill you, and now he's at it again." He got up and went to the kitchen for another coffee, returning to finish his comment. "Do you realize how that whole story would sound to your local police? There was no record of any of that, Paula. It was all buried by your uncle. You don't have proof of anything."

The anger seeped away, replaced with the bleak knowledge that he was right and she was being stupid. She covered her face with her hands and leaned against the window.

"You want another coffee?" His voice was right in her ear and she started, eyes flying open, locking onto his. "You need to relax. There's nothing we can do until he makes a move. I don't want to expose my sources back home by making contact now. Too dangerous for them. You're going to have to trust me again." He watched her face shuffle emotions, then she gave a sighing nod.

"Coffee would be good."