Sunlight streamed through a chink of the heavy lined curtains in the plush hotel bedroom. Outside the temperature was already soaring - another stinking hot and humid late summer morning in the Big Apple. The room was quiet as the couple in the bed slept on. The man was lying on his back, an arm flung across his eyes, as if to ward away the light of which he was somewhere subliminally aware. He was a big man, broad-chested and burly, but fit and well conditioned for his age. His hair was still thick although grey speckled here and there. He was tan and healthy, relaxed and peaceful.

The woman lay on her front, a mass of black hair spilling over the pillow. Her left arm was thrown outwards and lying across his chest, her hand slipped beneath the sheet he had pushed down to his navel. It was a position that suggested they had fallen asleep in the aftermath of lovemaking.

That opinion was confirmed by the floor around the bed. In a trail lay the woman's clothing - dress, silk and lace underwear, sheer black stockings scattered as they had fell, shoes tossed away across the floor. The man's clothing was more neatly arranged: his socks and shoes were under a chair as if he had sat down watching her strip. His shirt and tie were lying on the floor but his dress suit was folded over the chair back; she had taken off his shirt; he had removed his suit more methodically. His grey silk boxers were at the foot of the bed. It was almost possible from the evidence to recreate the dance of love they had made before they had fallen to the bed and taken their fill of each other. On the nightstand was a bottle of cognac and one glass. They had shared a drink in some erotic libation.

Suddenly a cell phone lit up; it was lying next to the brandy. A tiny beeping announced the alarm. The man opened his eyes immediately and ran his hand down his face; the woman merely muttered and rolled onto her side, slipping back immediately into deep sleep again.

He snagged up the phone in annoyance and shut down the alarm, sighing and looking back at the inviting prospect of the woman next to him. Her left breast was now revealed, a perfect small globe tipped with a pink areola; he almost licked his lips at the sight of it so innocently displayed for him. Reaching below the sheet he adjusted the lie of his morning erection, smiled and shook his head, took the sheet and with his right hand covered from his gaze the delicious temptation she gave him.

With a sigh, he eased away, trying not to disturb her, striding to the bathroom where a cold blast of the shower eased the hard on and then a warm shower refreshed him for the day. A shave. Ready to go. He patted on some cologne and padded through to dress.

"Hey...where you going? Come back to bed....!" The woman murmured sleepily, raising her head and throwing back her thick hair from her face.

He stepped over to the bed. "Go back to sleep. I told you I had a breakfast meeting..."

She sat up and let the sheet fall away, a sultry look on her face. "Breakfast won't go cold...I won't be long with you..."

She reached out and unwrapped the towel he was wearing round his waist. "Come on...let me go..." he protested vainly.

"No..." She stroked his cock and then tugged gently on it. "Back to bed....follow me..." came her whispered seduction.

"Annie...Jesus Christ..." he groaned as he fell in beside her, hard again already. "A man of my age should not be getting so much..." But he did not hold back, rolling her beneath him and ripping away the sheet to bare her before him. She was slender and pale next to his bulk, eager and lithe as she gripped him and opened to his smooth glide. There is nothing like that sweet morning glory when a woman is already primed with last night's love, the erotic dreams of her sleep and the scents of man and love infusing her senses. Or when a man is refreshed and alert, ready to begin the new day by asserting his virility in the most appealing of ways.

When finally he left her, she lay soaked in sensation, half awake and half asleep, still filled with him. He dressed and made his way across the silent suite, the knowledge of his children fast asleep in the rooms about, his whole world around him, his body loose and still languid with her, the warm wet grip of her cunt as real on his flesh as the clothes that now covered his nakedness. It all added to his sense of well being and all being right with his world.

Sauntering to the elevators, he rode down, hands in his pockets, jaunty and smiling lazily, miles away in drifting thoughts. The lift doors parted and he strolled out, idly watching passing women as men who are aroused will do, his thoughts deep in his sexuality, enjoying the easing down of the passion of such a short time ago.

Through to the café lounge, he spotted his appointment already sitting there and his languid mood began to ebb away. Nick looked tense and anxious, sitting forward staring into a coffee cup morosely. He had told him he had some information he needed to share; Terry grimaced and groaned inwardly. What the fuck was coming next?

"Mate? You look chirpy today. She kicked you out of bed?" Terry began as he slipped into a seat opposite and indicated to a waitress he wanted coffee and a menu.

Nick raised his head; Terry wondered if he'd been to bed at all. "I'm okay. Just tired. Need to get away. Take some time," Nick replied. Terry was a little surprised. Nick Costello was never like this. Something bad was going down here.

"What is it? You didn't get me out of bed with my beautiful wife merely to drop vague doom-laden hints. Stop fucking about. What you got?"

Nick seemed to frown and then he realized what Terry meant. "Nothing's up."

"You asked me for this. Last night before you left early pleading a woman waiting on you...don't shit me, mate..."

"That's what I got for you." He indicated his laptop where he opened a file. "Just some intel for your guys. Good stuff but nothing you need get all knotted up about. I found it on the last job. Thought you could use it..."

Terry scanned it. "How much?"

Nick shrugged. "On the house..."

"What? This is prime beef...it's gonna make me a tidy sum...you should have a cut..."

"Got enough money. Call it payback. I owe you."

"Owe me? Owe me what?" Terry asked, unsure what was going on in Nick's head but sensing that this was something quite unexpected.

"Just wiping a certain slate. Take no notice of me." He copied the file to a disk and threw it across the table. "See you around, Terry. Maybe..." He closed down his laptop and made ready to leave.

"Wait up...what's with you? Sit down. Talk to me. Not business. Mates. We used to be able to do that..." He had this strong feeling that Nick was on some edge - and men like them were a danger to themselves when they reached a point like that. Terry knew. He recalled a time long ago when his gut feeling had warned him one more job and he would blow.

And then he had gone to Tecala.

Nick sat down and waited while a waitress refilled his coffee. "How do you stay with a woman for all your life? Terry, don't you ever want another woman? How can you fuck the same body and not want more?"

Terry's head shot up at the comment. This was way off where he had thought they were going. "It's called love, Nick. It's not about 'fucking'. You've never been there if you need to ask."

"I don't believe in love."

Terry shrugged. "Your loss. What can I say? But the question begs another. What the fuck made you ask me that? Especially as you already seem to know the answer?"

At that Nick lit up a cigarette despite the fact that smoking was not allowed in the lounge. "A man like me can't live like that."

Terry took the cigarette and ground it out on a saucer. "Men like us need that more than anyone else, mate. But there are not many women in this world capable of making the sacrifices that are needed to accommodate us. Make no mistake the benefits are all one way. They get shit and we get to stay whole.... Maybe life's catching up with you. How old are you? Thirty eight?"

"Thirty seven."

"Looks like Nicholas might just be growing up then. Best of luck, mate. Feel sorry for the girl though, whoever she is..."

Nick laughed. "I just don't know, Terry..."

"Take a chance. If this odd little train of thought of yours is somehow connected to you having met some woman and you think for the first time in your life that you want to take it further - mate, go for it. You don't get many chances in life..."

"She said she doesn't want to see me again..."

"Since when have women ever said what they mean? She means, come and get me...persuade me that you want me enough to make the chase... and there ends my advice for young lovers for today. You ever wondered if you suffer from arrested development?"

He stood up and they shook hands. "Appreciate the intel. You need a break, Nick. I think you're on the edge...get the girl...take her somewhere hot and just enjoy yourselves...and now I'm going to go and get my girls and enjoy myself... might even buy that useless son of mine a beer..."

"So...what's so special about him?"  Zoe was sitting in her room in the apartment she shared with three other girls, talking to Jana. Since she had returned from New York, they had all been a little concerned about their beautiful friend who seemed to be disconsolate about a man she had met who had turned out to be some family acquaintance. He was too old for her and she had stopped seeing him out of respect for her father.

"He's...I can't explain, Jana. He just made a big impression. I can't get him out of my mind. I dream about him, think about him when I'm awake, he's on my mind 24/7. I mean I met him twice. Once when I slept with him and then next time when he showed up at a family occasion and I nearly wet myself. How can someone I know so little make such an impression on me?"

Jana shrugged. "You tell me. What's so special about him? Why is he on your mind?"

Zoe frowned. "He's very handsome, he's clever and witty and exciting to be with. He's great in bed. He's confident, rich, experienced...but...Jesus, Jana, I've met loads of men who would fit that bill. They barely make me turn my head. There's something about Nick. It's like ...it's like underneath it all he isn't what he seems. That there's a person inside who is entirely different and he's trying not to let anyone find out. Even himself. But I could see that person and he was fragile and needy and so very sad...how crazy is that?"

The other girl grinned. "Looks like you fell for him big time. But what's the point? You gave him his marching orders and he took them. It's been a week since you saw him. Is he the type to come after you, do you think?"

Zoe shook her head. "Not a chance. He was angry when I walked out. I don't suppose any woman has ever driven him away before and he didn't like it. I doubt I'll see him again."

"Then you better forget him. Quick. Before he fucks up more than your head. You're behind in your work and that is just going to add to your stress levels. Give up on him. He sounds like he'd be a nightmare anyway. You're better off without him."

Zoe sighed deep. "Easier said than done." She turned back to her keyboard and opened up the file she was working on. There had been a time when her studies had gripped her but now she couldn't even concentrate on a single paragraph. Suddenly it all seemed so meaningless to her. The only thing that made any sense was her and Nick. Why had she been such a fool?

He hadn't been home in days. He wasn't actually sure where he was anyway in relation to his home. Lying there in the debris of another night of excess, he stared at the ceiling and tried to get a grip on where he was and what he had done. It was a bathroom. Obviously a luxury home if the fixtures and fittings were anything to go by. He was sprawled out on the tiled floor, naked, lying by a pool of vomit. Raising himself onto his arms he let his spinning head settle and saw he was not alone. There were two women there also, one asleep half in and out of a shower, also naked, and another wearing just a tiny spangled top lying at an angle to him. It was clearly her vomit; her head was still in it.

Pulling himself up to a shaky stand, he checked the woman nearest to him. She was a beautiful blonde, makeup smeared like a clown on her pretty face, and her golden hair sticky with puke. He felt a revulsion at what they had all done to each other even if he wasn't even sure now what that was. Drink, drugs, sex? Probably all three. How did sane people get themselves into this humiliating state, throwing away the gifts and talents they had been given in a mindless blur of self- pleasuring?

The girl groaned. He breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment there he had thought she might have been dead, choked on her own vomit. It was a common enough occurrence in those circles. He eased the other woman from her uncomfortable position in the cubicle and sat her back against the wall, patting her cheek, trying to rouse her. She was dark haired and looked very young. He wondered if they'd had sex. Looking around he checked and was unsure whether he was glad or not when he saw a few used condoms scattered about. A quick check and he saw no tell tale signs on their thighs. Either he had not touched them, he'd used a rubber or they'd blown him.

Fingers crossed again but another test this month would be on the cards. One of these days he'd pick up the big one and, frankly, he knew he more than deserved it.

She wouldn't wake up, pushing him away and rolling back to the floor, asleep again almost at once. Throwing a towel over her and doing the same for her friend, he found the only item of his clothing- his briefs - and slung them on. Standing at the mirror he took a look at himself and was shocked at what he saw. He mustn't have shaved in days - he was sporting a full beard and his face looked hollow and pale, dark rings around his eyes. His hair was limp and stringy- he was none too clean. How the hell had he got himself in this state? And where the fuck was he?

Staggering out of the door, he made his way down a thickly carpeted corridor and opened doors. Beds were occupied with an array of different couplings - he recognised no one. It was like some surreal porno fairy tale where everyone was frozen in time in the sordid depravity of the night before and he was somehow left alive and wandering through the dreamscape world.

Downstairs lay the debris of the party he must have been attending and more comatose bodies, here and there a few stirring and dragging themselves about, searching for a cigarette or gulping glasses of water. Those standing nodded at him but he still felt a stranger and passed by aiming for the light of the day that he could see through the large patio windows. Sliding back the door, he stepped out into the hot sun and squinted.

There was a swimming pool before him, shimmering turquoise water on a cantilevered structure suspended over the valley. The water was the same colour as her eyes. He was in LA, up in the hills and it must have been around midday. He checked his watch. It wasn't there. What day was it? Where were his clothes? His wallet? ID? Had he come in a car?

The last memory he had had was New York, leaving Thorne in that hotel and going and getting drunk. Then it was nothing but a blur of flickering distorted images. Somehow he had got here and lost everything. He didn't think he'd ever got so rock bottom in a hell of a long time. Not only was it dangerous - but for a man like him to be so far off his guard was downright suicidal.

Or was that the point?

He raised his hands before him. His glove was off. That alone showed the depth of the state he had been in. He wiped a tear from his eye and realized that he was crying. He never cried. Not since he was a child. Why was he crying now?

Looking up into the sky he thought about her. His confused mind even thought it could make out her image in the clouds drifting by. He wondered what she would make of him now, filthy, unwashed, unshaved and naked after a bender that could have killed him? What kind of man was he anyway? Imagine the idea of having a relationship with a girl like her and dragging her down to this? He shuddered at the image; Zoe lying in a pool of her own vomit, naked with men who had probably taken her while she was too far gone even to know they were there. Is that what he wanted for that golden girl?

Because it was all he could offer her. His life was a pit of nothingness. Either he was on an assignment, mired in the shit of the world, or he was in his own private sewer of despair, spiraling down further and further searching for that ultimate high that might just make him feel something. Anything.

But he was crying now. How can a man incapable of feeling cry?

He was losing it. He had lost it. He wasn't sure how he'd begin to gather up the pieces this time. He knew that if he was called away now he would fuck up. But if he wasn't, what the hell would he do with the endless hours?

Except more of the same?

Thank Christ she had told him to bugger off and leave her alone. She was safe now. 

His cell phone was ringing and he contemplated ignoring it. But it was the habit of a lifetime to answer and deal with whatever was being asked of him and with barely a momentary hesitation, he snapped it up and answered.

"Terry?"

"Yeah?"

"Costello. Listen, mate, I'm in a bit of a bind..."

Terry rolled his eyes. This was not the first time Costello had called him out of the blue in some sort of trouble over the years. He wondered what it was this time. "This better be real important, Nicky boy. I'm on holiday with Annie and Liam..."

"Mate, I don't have anyone else. I'm in LA. I'm stuck. I've lost my wallet, phone, even my fucking clothes."

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"Where are you?"

Terry sighed. "LA."

"I'll drive up. I ripped off some clothes and hotwired a car. I've got about two hundred bucks I lifted from some of the cretins I woke up with. And this phone..."

"Then go and 'lift' a plane ticket while you're at it..."

"Come on, mate... I need some ID. Get one of your boys on it...they won't let me on a plane like this..."

"Nick, why do you always call me? You're the boy who knows everyone. Call one of your celebrity mates..."

There was a silence on the line. "Get me a pair of gloves, Terry...I can't walk around like this..."

He knew then that was the sticking point. Nick wouldn't even want to chance that anyone saw his hand uncovered. Even now, his pride wouldn't stand it. And he knew the answer to his question. Nick might have had plenty of mates but he didn't have a single friend. Of his own choosing. But no man can make it alone. He felt immeasurably saddened at the way Nick had decided to live his life.

He gave him the name of their hotel. "I'll get you a room and start the ball rolling. You best hole up here until you dry out. I take it you've been on a bender? Since when?"

Nick coughed. "Last time I saw you."

"Jesus Christ...that was five days ago... man, you are gonna kill yourself unless you ease off. What this time? Cocaine? Booze? Worse?"

"Dunno. Gotta be a combination. Way my head feels..."

"You fit to drive?"

"You know me. I can drive with my fucking eyes closed..."

"Nick...do not try that...you in the hills?"

"Yeah."

"Then you keep those eyes open and get here in one piece. I take it you did not take my advice?"

"Advice?" Nick repeated.

"About the woman. You decided to burn her out of your system...? Doesn't work, mate...does it?"

"Fuck off...I'll be there in an hour or so..."

Terry put down the phone and threw it across the bed, standing up and pacing the room. Annie wandered out of the bathroom drying her hair on a towel. "Was that Liam? Is everything all right?"

"No. We've got a guest for a few days. Costello got himself in a bit of bother. Needs somewhere to get his head down for a few days. You mind?"

Annie shook her head but secretly bit back the retort. There was always something that got in the way. They couldn't even have these few days without Terry having to take something on. So bloody typical. Nick was a grown man - why should they be looking after him? But she swallowed it down.

"Liam will be pleased. Though I shudder to imagine what those two are capable of on their own..."

"We do not leave them alone... that's all I fucking need, Liam getting lessons in depravity from the King of  the Damned himself...he seems to be doing fine on his own. Jesus, Annie...were we ever this messed up when we were kids?"

She sat down on his knee; he slipped his hand underneath the pale blue silk wrap and felt the comfort of her naked body beneath. "Our parents thought we were...it's a wonder any of us survived...you sorry we had them?"

He smiled. "The kids? You crazy? They were part of what sorted my head out..."

"You mean you were messed up too? Surely not!" Annie gasped in mock horror. He pinched her waist and she wriggled to try and escape his grasp.

"Come on, Annie...let's be a bit depraved ourselves...why let the kids have all the fun...?"

"...I just showered! You promised me lunch!"

"Wouldn't you rather fuck?" 

"....Mum...can you lend me some dosh...? Bloody hell, do you two ever leave each other alone?" Liam loped across the room seeming oblivious to his mother trying to fasten her robe and his father adjusting himself in his jeans. "... And can you keep it down at night? Every heard of the silent orgasm? Some of us were trying to sleep last night..."

Terry threw a pillow at him. "You can shut your mouth...that is not funny. Have you no respect for your mother?"

Liam picked his mother up and swung her round. "Course I have. She puts up with you, doesn't she? Needs a bloody medal for that..."

He was irrepressible. And funny, if you could stomach his completely irreverent sense of humour. He said what other people only dared think. But both Annie and Terry were still reeling from the shock of his sudden decision to travel to California with them. They had expected him to do his own thing but he had asked if they minded a passenger and had even spent a lot of time with them, playing tennis and golf with his father, driving them around, shopping with his mother, hanging about round the hotel pool and just generally chilling with his parents.

They hadn't asked him why but sensed that there had to be a reason behind all this. They were both girding their metaphorical loins for whatever bombshell he was about to drop on them.

Terry stood up and tucked in his shirt. "I've got a few things I have to do before Costello gets here. Liam, take your mother out somewhere to lunch. Here..." he pulled out some money from his wallet and threw it over. "...Though what the fuck you do with your allowance and the money you earn flashing your pecs for the camera beats me..."

"Uncle Nick's coming here? Why?" Liam asked grinning. No doubt the idea of some interesting male company was intriguing him.

"It's a long story...and you leave him alone...he needs a bit of space...he's not been well..."

"What? He was okay last weekend...."Liam retorted. Then he started laughing. "Oh, you mean he's been a naughty boy again? On the old illegal substances, hey?"

Terry gave him a look but didn't comment. Annie decided to break up the party. "Liam, I want to get dressed...go and wait in the lounge. I'll be out soon. And put  a shirt on. They won't let you in a decent place wearing that basketball vest..."

"It's FUBU..."

"Change it...! Maitre D's aren't as into hairy armpits as your girlfriends, sweetie..."

Liam grinned and pocketed the cash, leaving the room with the door wide open. Why do kids always do that?

Nick dumped the car and took a cab to the hotel, running up the steps with the collar of the denim jacket pulled up and his right hand thrust in his jeans pocket. The commissionaire stopped him briefly but he said he was hear to see Mr. Thorne, his boss, and the man shrugged watching him as he made his way to reception to call up. Terry was down shortly and checked him in.

Riding the elevator, Terry leaned against the wall and looked at Nick. "You look like shit warmed over."

"Feel worse," he sniffed and pulled out a cigarette which Terry ripped out of his mouth.

"Sensors, you dickhead." No smoking, the bane of life in American public places. Nick grunted and sniffed. "Eat then get your head down and sleep. You do not leave that room for the next twenty fours hours - you got that?"

Nick nodded. 

"And you might need these..." Terry took a pair of men's leather gloves out of his pocket and threw them at him. Nick bagged them with his left hand but did not put one on his false hand; it was still wedged firmly in his pocket.

The doors parted and they found his room. Inside, Terry closed the curtains and handed Nick the phone. "Order something nutritious, take a shower and then get to bed. I'll check on you later this evening. No booze. No sending out for call girls. And definitely nothing stronger than a cigarette. You break the rules, you're on your own, mate. I'm locking the mini bar and taking the key." He strode over to the door and looked back. "...And shave. You look like the wild man of Borneo. It is not a good look on you, mate." Taking the 'Do Not Disturb' Notice, he hung it on the door knob on the way out and shook his head. Nick looked shocking. It was hard to imagine a man could go so far down in just five days. One of these days he would go too far. It seemed like only a matter of time. Enough people had tried to kill him and failed. Ironic that it would probably be Nick himself who pulled the proverbial trigger on his own head.

Nick ripped off his clothes - or rather somebody's else's clothes - and called down for a steak. The thought of food actually made his stomach heave but he knew he needed it and a slab of protein with some salad with a glass of fresh juice would ultimately make him feel better. He wondered what, if anything, he had been eating recently. The amnesia was bothering him. He had never had it so bad before.

The shower revived him to some extent. He looked at his beard and decided to leave it for later. The food arrived and he found he had more appetite than he had imagined. He ate. He thought he wouldn't sleep. He switched on the TV and watched some football. He was asleep in minutes, sprawled out naked on the bed, exhaustion deadening him even to dreams.

He slept through Terry's arrival hours later. His friend covered him over and set down the documents he had acquired for him, a change of clothes, a plane ticket and some cash. It was the next morning, after being out for sixteen hours straight, that he finally woke with a start, hardly remembering again where he was until he dragged himself back from the fug of his brain and recalled the day before.

This time he smartened himself up, dressed in the crisp shirt and pants Terry had provided and sat down ordering another solid meal and relishing it, sitting out on the balcony in the sunshine. He watched people down below around the hotel pool that was on a roof terrace a few floors below him. Men and women fooling about in the cool water, kids playing, laughter and easy days in the sun. He grimaced. He'd like some of that. But what's the point on your own surrounded by people who belong? So he picked up a girl with her friend? Did that really make it better? Was a romp in a hotel room with a strange partner really the answer to what he lacked and everyone else seemed to take for granted?

He called Terry's suite and Annie answered, somewhat coolly, he thought. She invited him up to join them for lunch later. But he got the strong suspicion that she was doing it out of politeness and would prefer if he refused. He accepted. She'd get over it. He'd soon have her eating out of his hand again.

"Hey, mate...Nick...great to see you!" Liam charged into the apartment; he had been at the hotel gym and was dressed in workout gear, sweaty and rumpled. "Let me go shower and I'll join you..."

Nick smiled and sat back down, fingering the mineral water Annie had dumped on him before excusing herself to make a few calls. Terry was out somewhere. He picked up a magazine and flipped through it. Maybe he shouldn't have come up. Annie was definitely cold shouldering him.

Just then she came back in and stood watching him from the door of her bedroom. "I'm sorry. That took longer than I thought. Our daughter. She needed to talk."

He looked down at his drink and wondered if Zoe had told her and that accounted for the chill in the air. But he didn't think she had. If they knew that little gem he hardly imagined he would be here waiting for a family lunch- more like in traction in a hospital after Terry had finished with him.

"Is it a problem? Me being here?" Nick thought he might as well be direct; he was never one for dancing round the houses anyway.

Annie took a seat across from him. "No, of course not. However..." and she stopped but decided to continue anyway. "...It would be nice to have a holiday with my husband and son without Terry having to get involved in someone else's problems. He has this knack for picking up lame ducks." She gave him a pointed look. Nick smiled inwardly. The lovely Anna took no prisoners, not where her man was concerned anyway - and no doubt that protective edge would cover her children too.

"Never been called a duck before, Lots of worse names...ending in 'uck' but usually beginning with 'f'..."

Annie grinned and shook her head at him. "Trouble is, I actually like you. Although you are a lost cause. And I wish you'd leave Terry alone. He worries about you. He has enough to worry about. He thinks you'll take an overdose one of these days or drive your car off a mountain while pissed out of your head..."

"He's a mate. I respect him. Best friend I have."

"He's not your friend. He's your self-appointed surrogate father. Friends give back, Nick..."

Nick pulled his lips in a petulant moue, "I'd die for him...I'd take a bullet for him if I had to..."

"Try living for him, hey? It would do you both more good."

His head shot up at her perceptive comment but Liam strolled in before he could answer and threw himself down on the sofa next to Nick. "Want a beer, mate?"

Nick smiled to himself. "No...mineral water's fine..."

"Right, I forgot...you've been on a binge so I hear. Not clever, mate." He lowered his voice so his mother couldn't here. "Been there a few times...man, it's not worth it..."

The phone rang and Annie went off to answer it while Liam led Nick out onto the wide balcony that went with the suite. They sat on cane chairs in the shade while Liam helped himself to a can of beer.

"That was Dad. He's been delayed. Says we should start without him but I told him we could hold off for half an hour. Okay with you two? I'm just running down to the spa...I want to make an appointment...behave. I will only be five minutes..." Annie popped her head round the door and gave them their orders. The two men nodded.

"Christ, she's bossy!" Nick grinned.

Liam smiled. "You get used to it. Mostly I don't even listen to her. Same with Zoe. Now she is the pain in the butt...you got a sister?"

Nick winced slightly at the mention of the name but rode it well enough. "Yeah. Got two. Singularly unattractive ladies, older than me and with substantially more facial hair. Haven't seen them for years. They are probably grannies now..."

"Weird that. I mean not seeing your family. Mine might drive me nuts but I still love them, you know? Not sure I'd make it far without them..." Liam observed as he took a thoughtful drink of his can.

Nick said nothing for a while and then changed the subject. "So...what you up to these days?"

"Me? Just graduated last June. Bummed around Italy most of the summer. Time to start thinking about the future..."he replied evasively.

"Yeah well, you're so old now....you really need to get the tie and the suit and go earn some bread. What you gonna be? Doctor? Lawyer? Make your Daddy proud?' he teased.

Liam gave him a rueful look. "You joking? I don't want any of that. And don't even mention army...I have no interests in following in his footsteps or Harry's. You know what my ambition is? I'd tell you but you'd probably fall about laughing..."

Nick's interest was caught. He was a nice kid. More to him than he thought at first glance. Looked a bit like Terry and Nick imagined that Terry had been something like this at twenty one. Probably not as dreamy eyed or quite as pretty but you never know. Men often are pretty as that age even if they lose it pretty quick. Nick smiled to himself. He'd never lost it. "Tell me. I can keep a secret. My specialty. Something your Daddy won't like? Not macho enough for Thorne? Hairdresser? Clothes designer?"

Liam laughed. "Almost as bad. Musician. I write songs. Play guitar. I got a few tapes but I want to cut a demo. I'm good. Trying to get up the nerve to tell them I want to do it full time but he'll blow a fuse. He's still seething at Zoe for planning to be a journalist - not exactly a shameful way to live your life, hey?"

"Not so sure. Mostly journalists get on my fucking tits, those I've met anyway." Then he realised how absurd the comment was in relation to Zoe and hurried on before Liam mentioned her further. "Music, hey? I know a few people. I move around with a few people in the business. I'll see if I can get you a name..."

"Really? What do you mean 'people in the business'? Like producers? Other musicians?"

Nick grinned. "No...a few celebs. We...share the same...recreational interests, you might say. Not exactly friends but I could call a few and mention your name. You got a copy of one of these tapes?"

"Sure...I got dozens. I'll give you a few...hey, mate, appreciate it. It's really great of you to offer..."

Draining his drink and taking a few hors d'oeuvres from the dish on the table, he shook his head. "Least I can do, mate. Your Dad's been a good friend to me. Just giving a bit back, you know?"

Liam thought about that while he freshened Nick's drink. "Nick...can I ask you something? What do you and Dad actually do? I mean are you colleagues or something? How do you know him? I always wondered. You stayed with us a long time. I mean you must have been close..."

Nick chewed on his bottom lip. This was the dangerous topic, one he normally never got dragged into, but the kid was Terry's son. He had to know a certain amount already about his father's lifestyle. "We were on a job together about twelve years' ago. He was my commanding officer. Got to know him well. Lost my hand on that caper...he gave me a lot of help afterwards. Put me in touch with the people who made this prosthetic. It was experimental at the time and they used me as guinea pig to test new cybernetics..." Nick laughed. "The bionic man, ya know? Or are you too young to have seen that? Steve Austin?"

Liam looked confused, so he went on.

"Kept in touch over the years and we occasionally put some work each other's way..."

"What kind of work? Is my Dad still in the game?" Liam asked bluntly and Nick could see this was the real purpose of this conversation.

"What game? He's not a spy, mate. Nor am I. He is a security consultant just as it says on his card. He gives lectures and advises governments. Strictly kosher..."

"He earns shit loads of money. I've seen his bank accounts. Even Clinton doesn't get paid that for a lecture tour..."

The kid was shrewd and Nick wondered if he half suspected already. "Look, Liam, you should talk to your Dad if you want some answers. But I'll tell you this. He's a sort of fixer...an enabler....a negotiator..."

"...still doing K and R?"

Nick shook his head. "No....not that kind of negotiation. Let me try and explain. If one of our governments wants to make an approach to a less friendly nation then it's often impossible to make it through the regular channels, so they call in men like your father who have links and they do the preliminary groundwork. Negotiate until they find some area that both sides will accept and then broker a deal. It's valuable work but it's never acknowledged...apart from the big fat payments that he gets in the Caymans..."

"Really? My Dad does that?  Give me an example..."

Nick thought awhile. "He'll probably bust my balls if he knew I was telling you this but....okay. Say there is someone held by a hostile government who someone on our side wants released. Journalist? Activist? Opposition politician? Academic? Terry would approach one of his people there and sound them out. What would they be prepared to put on the table for him? Could be some technology they want, aid, maybe some medical assistance - even a new private jet for the president...what the fuck? Depends how much they need it...so he goes and talks until a bargaining chip is agreed on then takes that figure back home and it starts again. When they have a viable agreement, he brokers the deal. Takes a fat cut but his name is never mentioned and the arrangement is never anything other than verbal. That's how it works."

Liam looked impressed. "Why my Dad?"

"He's known. Trusted. The right age. Good background. Non-political. And enough of a maverick to be convincing..."

"You in that game too?" Liam interrupted.

Nick scoffed. "Me? You joking? Who would trust me? No, mate. I'm the other end of the spectrum. They call me in when the other side won't play ball...I'm the dirty ops boy..."

"What's that mean?" Liam's eyes narrowed and Nick suspected he knew perfectly well what he was referring to.

"You want someone framed? I do it. You want a break in staged? I do it. You want some information stolen? I do it. You want subversion? I provide it..." Nick remained vague in his explanation. But Liam was already ahead of him.

"You want someone taken out....you're the guy who does it? You an assassin, Nick? Does Dad know?"

Nick groaned and looked about to make sure Annie wasn't around. "I do what I'm told. I work for the western powers. It isn't much different from soldiering but it pays a hell of a lot better and I get plenty of time off. And yes, your Dad knows. We all know the way it is. He makes use of guys like me and I make use of guys like him. Symbiosis..."

"I can't believe he'd go for that. He wouldn't have anything to do with contracts on people's lives. I know my Dad. He's a man of principle..." Liam objected.

"Yeah well, principle's like elastic, son. It depends how you stretch it. He's a soldier. He was SAS. He was taking IRA men out when I was still at school. What do you think Special Forces do? Your Dad's a crack shot. A sniper. Now what you think the army uses that skill for?"

Liam sank back and drank his beer. He wasn't a fool. He knew that things, bad things, often had to be done in the name of good. But he had never thought his father could be associated with that sort of moral ambiguity. Nor could he imagine his mother having any sympathy with it. She was a real pacifist and quite a leftie. She and Dad often disagreed but how would she cope with this knowledge? He wished he could believe Nick was shining him on but he could recognise truth when he heard it.

"...He's a very brave man. You don't know the first about the things he's done and the people he's saved..." Nick began.

Liam shrugged. "Wonder if the families of those he killed would agree? You know, Nick, I'm not so convinced that claiming you only work for the West cuts much ice with me. We're not always right. What happens if one of our governments wants you to take out some perfectly normal guy just because he's, say, a scientist who is about to blow the whistle on some government cock up? You rig his car. Blow up his family. Sound familiar? How do you sleep at night? Our people are just as fucked up as the other side..."

"I sleep. Grow up," Nick snapped.

"That why you're drying out? 'Cos you sleep so fucking well?" Liam threw back at him. They looked at each other a while.

"Look, I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. Don't let Terry know..."

"I won't. It's okay. I kind of suspected something, you know? Just needed to hear it. I picked up on things just listening over the years. Dino, Harry...other people....thanks for being so honest. I do appreciate that. You really mean it about those tapes? I'll go get you a few...."

Annie's return cut short their chat. Shortly afterwards Terry arrived back and they had an amiable lunch on the shady veranda, nothing controversial and no reference made to Nick's recent meltdown. After lunch, Liam wandered off and Annie excused herself to read, both sensing that Nick probably needed some time to talk with Terry.

"You must have amazing powers of recovery..." Terry began as he poured another cup of coffee. 

"Had plenty of practice."

"That's what I was afraid of. So you gave up on the girl? None of my business but you sort of made it mine, ya know?"

Nick grimaced. "She's better off without me. I, however, am not finding it as easy to walk away this time."

Terry walked over to the edge of the balcony and looked out. "Let me tell you a little story. A long time ago. I was about your age. No...a bit younger...I'd come off the back of a lot of shit in my career and even more in my private life. Did one job that shook me up. Not sure why. Was pretty standard fare for Chechenya but it still left me feeling that if I went back in straight off, I'd lose it. Well, I went straight back in and I lost it..."

"What's this got to do with me?" Nick looked up quizzically.

"You go back now, you will fuck up. I nearly died. You don't have my margin for error in what you do. The girl is telling you something. Go back and find out exactly what."

"I'm not sure it's as easy as that."

"She married or something?"

"...Or something." Nick glanced up from out of the shock of shiny black hair and fixed Terry in an impenetrable stare.

Terry hunched his shoulders. "She must know what she wants. Maybe she's unhappy. Maybe she needs you. Who the fuck knows? Only one way to find out. Go to her. Take her somewhere beautiful and spend some time alone. Get your head sorted. I won't always be here for you. 'Bout time you learnt to stand on your own two feet."

Nick sat for a long time contemplating the bottom of his cup. Then he stood and held out his hand. "I'd better be off. I'm flying back to New York tonight. Thanks, mate. For everything. I can't say anymore than that. And I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

He smiled a sad grin. "Yeah. Sorry. Might be a while now, Terry. You take care of that family of yours, mate?" With that the two men shook hands and Nicholas Costello left with a parting: "Say good bye to Annie. Tell her I'm sorry, too..."

Jana jogged down the steps of her apartment building about to go for a run. Sitting on the hood of a car parked outside was a man. Probably the most attractive man she'd ever seen. It was impossible not to stop and smile at him. "Hi, love. You know a girl called Zoe Thorne?"

Jana's mouth fell open. It was not hard to put two and two together. No wonder Zoe had been dripping around all week. "Er....er....she's my friend. Apartment 2D"

"Thanks love. You going out? Anyone else at home?"

"Jogging. No one else but Zoe..."

Nick beamed across at her and she felt her knees buckle. "Do a half marathon, hey? Give us a bit of space?"

He leaned off the hood and loped up the path towards the entrance. Jana watched him go. God Almighty, but he was one fine piece of meat...

Zoe heard the buzzer at the door. Jana and her bloody key again. She stomped through the apartment and pulled open the door.

"Don't slam it in my face....I just wanted to talk...."

"Oh God....Nick...."

"Can I come in?"

She nodded but stood stock still staring at him.

"Well...can I?"

"Oh Nick...I thought I'd never see you again...! I'm so sorry!"

She threw herself dramatically into his arms as he stepped forward to touch her. They both just held each other tight. And then he pushed her inside and closed the door.........