“Who do you think set you up in Iran?” he said smugly, a Cheshire grin on his face.
“Impossible!” barked Desh. “You’re saying you expected me to team up with your sister even then?”
Alan Miller nodded. “I wanted to ensure she had someone to confide in. Believe me, Desh, I know my sister’s taste in men. I’ve met the guys she’s dated and she’s told me, in nauseating detail, the kind of man she’s looking for. I studied the records of scores of Special Forces operatives before stumbling onto a ringer like you. You’re her exact type physically. Brilliant in your own right. Personable. You studied philosophy for Christ’s sake. You like poetry. Incredibly well read. Sickeningly righteous.” He grinned. “You’re catnip to her. The transformed me was convinced that if you two were thrown together under desperate circumstances, there’s no way she doesn’t fall in love with you.”
Alan gazed at his sister knowingly. “Go ahead, Kira. I know I chose well. Tell him. You’re in love with him already.”
Kira lowered her eyes but said nothing.
A startled look flashed over Desh’s face, and he appeared totally dumbstruck. His eyes darted to the side as if desperately trying to read Kira’s expression.
Alan laughed. “I’ll be damned!” he said, studying Desh. “You’re in love with her, also. I can see it in your face.” He laughed again. “I should be a fucking matchmaker.”
Kira gazed at Desh and her eyes widened. She had been feeling like an idiot, desperately trying to hide her feelings from him, convinced that true love was something that happened over years rather than days. But she sensed her brother, evil as he was, had guessed correctly. Desh had fallen for her as well.
Alan shifted his attention back to his sister. “I had hoped this would happen. When both parties can subconsciously pick up on each other’s signals of infatuation, the effect is accelerated. My in-depth study of Desh suggested he liked girl-next-door types who were his match intellectually, but frankly, Kira, I was convinced your irritating personality would turn him off.” He raised his eyebrows. “Despite not having a firsthand knowledge of Desh’s taste in women, my brilliant, transformed self calculated there was a good chance he would fall for you too.” He shook his head in wonder. “Ironic that a being of pure intellect could so accurately predict a largely irrational, involuntary response.”
“You should feel very proud of yourself,” spat Desh bitterly.
Alan looked back and forth between his two prisoners and smiled in delight. “What’s the matter, you two? You look angry and confused. Feeling manipulated? Feeling like experimental animals? Does the fact that I orchestrated your feelings for each other to serve my purposes taint them?”
At this, Desh’s expression became thoughtful, and he shook his head ever so slightly, as though the moment Alan had voiced what he had been feeling, he had realized these feelings were misguided. “No taint Alan. My feelings for Kira are my own. If you were responsible for allowing me to meet such a remarkable woman, than I thank you, regardless of your motives.” Desh paused. “And if you predicted we would fall for each other,” he continued, “so what? Someone might be able to predict my loathing of you, but that doesn’t make it any less real.”
Alan Miller laughed. “Your loathing of me is about to take a sharp turn for the worse,” he said icily. “Allow me to continue. Once I knew you were the right man, I made sure you encountered tragedy, so you would be a wounded soul and would break all ties with other women. To make you more appealing to my sister. After all, what could possibly be more appealing than a tortured, unattached hero?”
“You really did set us up in Iran, didn’t you?” whispered Desh in horror.
“Putnam arranged for that particular—what do you grunts like to call it—oh yeah . . . clusterfuck. He didn’t have any idea why. Those stupid-assed terrorists were well paid to make sure you escaped alive, but they almost blew it. I needed you injured, but not as injured as you were.”
“You’re saying they let me escape?”
“That’s right.”
“Why did you need me injured? So I’d cut an even more sympathetic figure for Kira?”
Alan smiled. “I’ll answer that a little later. I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself. And I really do want to share with you how brilliantly you were both manipulated. After all, you’re the only two people in the world who will ever have a chance to appreciate my mastery.” He paused. “Shall I continue?”
Desh nodded while Kira glared at her brother hatefully.
“The optimized me figured there was a fifty-fifty chance Desh would leave the service. Either way, it didn’t really matter to my plan.”