Time would tell.
Chapter Twenty-five
New Orleans, Louisiana
Sitting on the back porch, looking out into the untamed, ever-changing wilderness of a Louisiana night brought out her reflective side. It was chillier here than she’d thought it would be. To her mind, the deepest parts of the South were always hot and sultry. Tonight was clear, cold, and slightly damp. She was covered in a blanket and wore sweats and still felt chilled. She could get up and go inside, but the cool weather was much more warming than Raphael’s cold silence. The only time he spoke to her was to ask a question about the Fletchers. Nothing else seemed to matter to him.
Giselle closed her eyes. That wasn’t fair of her. He had every right to his feelings. She didn’t blame him for his anger or distrust.
Looking back on that time, when she’d first learned she was pregnant, she had never consciously considered that years would go by before she told Raphael he had a son. There had been the hope, albeit vague, that she would be able to contact him and let him know. And though that moment had actually come, it hadn’t worked out the way she had envisioned.
And now the Fletchers had a legitimate-looking legal document saying she had given her son to them. She knew things had happened that she couldn’t remember. But there was no way she ever would have signed any such thing if she had been in her right mind. How long had they drugged her before she even realized it? What else might she have done that she had no memory of doing? Just the thought sent nausea roiling in her stomach.
And her baby had been alone with those monsters for months. What was going through Gio’s mind? Was he worried, afraid? Did he believe she had abandoned him? What had Clarissa told him about his mama’s absence?
In the midst of those torturous thoughts, she saw Raphael step out on the porch. Giselle drew herself up, preparing herself. There were only two reasons they spoke to each other. Either he had more questions about the Fletchers, or he asked her what she wanted to eat. Since they had just finished an early dinner, she braced herself for more questions.
Surprising her, he handed her a mug of steaming tea. “Thought you might need this.”
She accepted the drink with a grateful smile, relishing the warmth. “Thank you.”
“Your father is dead.”
Raphael grabbed for the cup that slipped from her fingers. Cursing the careless way he had announced the news, he ignored the burning liquid on his hands. He was lucky she hadn’t thrown the cup in his face.
“How?”
Setting the cup on the table beside her, he took the napkin he’d handed her with the tea and dabbed at her hands. “Did you burn yourself?”
“No. I’m fine. Are you okay? Did you burn your hands?”
“No. I—” He shook his head. “That was a shitty way to tell you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s not like I have any feelings for him anymore. He ceased to be my father when I learned what he did to my mother, to other women. What happened?”
“Someone stabbed him in prison. He bled out before they got him help.”
“Do you think Daniel is responsible? That he arranged for it?”
“Yes. So does Noah. Reddington managed to stay alive all these years without a single threat against him. Even though he was in a different prison this time, he was under a lot more security than before. He hooked up with the wrong people this time. Fletcher didn’t need him anymore, and the likelihood of him revealing information wasn’t a risk he wanted to take.”
“And it didn’t work out the way it was supposed to. I’m still alive.”
“Yeah, there is that.”
“It’s so odd, but I used to dream about this. I don’t think I consciously wished death on him, but I thought how nice it would be if he didn’t exist. Mama, Amelia, and Eric would no longer be afraid for their lives. We could all have normal lives and finally be together again.”
“You can—”
“Don’t lie to me, Raphael. Things haven’t changed. Not really. The faces have changed, but the threat is as real as ever. Reddington might be out of the picture, but thanks to me, my family is still in danger. Daniel would use them to get to me.”
He couldn’t argue with the truth. That’s exactly what they would do. Reddington was no longer useful, but her mother, sister, and brother would be fair game.
“Noah contacted the US Marshals’ office. They’re aware of the new threat. They’re on guard in case Fletcher tries to find them and use them.”
“That’s something, I guess.”
“This won’t be forever, Giselle. We’ll find what we need to destroy Fletcher, and we’ll get Gio back. Then you can reunite with your family. ”
The hopeless look she gave him went straight to his heart. He had done his best to keep his distance. He still didn’t know if he’d ever forgive her, but those feelings he’d had for her had never gone away. He’d been fooling himself, telling himself he wasn’t attracted to her like he’d once been. Bullshit. If anything, the feelings were stronger.
He could fight them, had no choice. What they’d had before could never be regained. But that didn’t mean he wanted her to suffer. She had suffered enough.
Telling himself he was a fool didn’t stop him from pulling her up and into his arms. She fit him just as he remembered, felt perfect in his arms.
She didn’t resist him, and he was glad for that. He hadn’t exactly been gentle with her the last few days. When he felt her soften against him, he sat down, holding her on his lap. They stayed like that awhile, absorbing each other’s warmth. Raphael couldn’t help but remember the many times he’d held her like this. How blessed he’d felt at the time.
“Why did you call me, Giselle?”
He felt her stiffen and almost regretted asking, but the question needed to be asked and answered. It had been hammering at him for days. He hadn’t asked before because it wasn’t pertinent to getting the goods on Fletcher. But in the quiet, with darkness surrounding them, secrets could be shared.
“What?”
“Right after you got married. The day after, I think, you called and left me a message.”
“I wasn’t sure you got it.”
“I did. I—” He closed his eyes, feeling more than a little stupid. He should have returned her call.
“It doesn’t really matter anymore.”
Yes, it did, and the more he thought about it, this might be the most important conversation they would have.
“Tell me.”
“I called to tell you about Gio.”
As the truth slammed into his stubborn brain, Raphael closed his eyes. And he hadn’t called her back out of ridiculous pride and anger. He’d seen the reports of her marriage, and the bitterness had prevented him from doing the right thing.
Though he already knew what she was going to say, he asked anyway. “Why then?”
“I was no longer in the witness protection program.”
So she could finally do what she had wanted to do all along. She had told him she wanted to call and had been prevented from doing so. He had ignored her words, even though he had recognized the truth in them. He knew the number one rule of WITSEC. To protect her family and their son, Giselle had had no choice but to abide by that rule. The moment she was no longer bound by that rule, she had reached out to Raphael. And what had he done? Acted like the number one asswipe of the century and ignored her call.
“If I had called you back, none of this would have happened. Gio would be with you…with us. I am sorry, Giselle.”
“I don’t blame you, Raphael.”
Yeah, that much was obvious. She was too busy blaming herself to put the blame on anyone else. And he had done everything to make things worse.
“How about we put the blame where it belongs? First your father and now the Fletchers.”
The sound she made, part shaky sigh, part giggle, cheered his heart. “It does feel good to do that.”
“Then let’s do that. We both made mist
akes, but none of this would have happened if the bastards weren’t corrupt and evil.”
A soft hand touched his face as she tilted his head downward. “Thank you, Raphael.” Her mouth touched his, and Raphael felt a million things in the soft kiss. Forgiveness and apology, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt hope.
Chapter Twenty-six
Montana
Olivia stood several yards away from the entrance to the underground bunker that housed the headquarters of one of the most secretive covert op organizations in existence. That she had once worked for them was a nonissue. The moment she’d walked out the door, they had erased all evidence of her past with them. Only a few would remember her. One of those few was the man she was coming to see…to ask a favor. It was a sixty-forty split whether he’d let her inside, much less agree to her request.
She hadn’t left under good circumstances, but that was the nature of the beast. People left OZ for only two reasons. Either you got dead, or you messed up big-time. She counted herself lucky that she had left for the second reason, but she was quite sure not everyone agreed. Especially the man she was about to see.
He knew she was here. Most likely knew the moment she’d gotten on a flight to Montana. Cameras were situated unobtrusively outside the compound. She imagined he was sitting at his desk watching, waiting to see if she’d actually have the guts to walk up to the gate and request entrance. He was right to doubt her. Her knees were shaking, and what felt like giant mothlike creatures were having a field day in her stomach. She had sworn she would never return. Since she’d been practically shoved out the door and told not to return, coming back here could be a hopeless endeavor. But she had to try.
Working for Last Chance Rescue these last few years had returned some of the humanity she had lost. Before LCR, she had been in limbo, going through the motions of living. No, not living—she’d barely been existing. LCR had saved her life, her sanity. If she could help them, despite the pain it might cause herself, that’s what she needed to do. Doing the right thing often involved sacrifice. She owed it to LCR, and she owed it to herself to try, no matter the consequences.
“Are you coming in?”
The voice was his, and despite her resolve, it took every bit of her willpower not to turn tail and run. Heaven help her.
Steeling her spine, she answered calmly, “If you’ll let me.”
The sound of a door opening brought her head around. He had come from another entrance behind her. Olivia braced herself.
“Hello, Liv.”
“Hello, Ash.”
“Been a long time.”
Since she had never planned to see him again, a long time wasn’t long enough. However, she had come to ask a favor. “Yes, it has.”
“You come to kill another one of my people?”
She didn’t outwardly flinch—she was too well trained for that—but he’d know full well that his words had landed and bruised. Asher Drake never said anything without being assured of the outcome he wanted.
“I’ve come to ask for your help.”
“Is that right?”
She heard the meaning behind the words. Yes, there would be consequences. This man did not give without taking. She would deal with that at another time. A child was at risk, and if there was one thing Ash would not abide, it was an innocent being harmed. Yes, he was ruthless, but never without cause.
“Okay if I come in and tell you about it?”
Something like amusement glinted in his deep-blue eyes. “But of course.” He moved aside and waved his hand. “You know the way.”
Feeling like a lamb heading into a lion’s den, Olivia walked through a door she’d sworn she’d never go through again.
***
LCR Headquarters
Disgusted, Jordan threw a mass of papers down on the table. “We still have a whole lot of nothing.”
“No,” Eden said evenly, her frustration evident but less volatile. “We have a whole lot of something, just nothing that’s going to help us, at least not yet.”
“Okay,” Noah said, “let’s go over it one more time.” Moving his eyes around the room, he noted the same level of frustration in everyone’s faces. They’d been at this for several days.
“Angela?”
Taking her cue, Angela stood. Before becoming an operative, Angela had been LCR’s best tech analyst. With this part of the op, until they could find their needle in the haystack that they could use against the Fletchers, she was leading the charge on getting the goods on them.
“Let’s review.” She walked over to the whiteboard and the mass of information they’d uncovered. “The family is old money. Railroads, shipping, oil, banking. You name it, they’ve had their fingers in it, or still do. Most recently, it’s been the tech industry. Even though they had a good foundation when they came to the US over three centuries ago, their wealth accumulation has been phenomenal. Daniel Fletcher is as savvy and discerning as his father before him. Whoever taught these people how to make money taught them well.”
She gestured toward a long list of well-known companies in which the Fletchers held stock, and sometimes even a controlling share. “These are only a small percentage of their investments.”
“It’s a veneer,” Sabrina said.
“Yes and no.” Angela shot her Elite team member a smug smile. “If someone was printing up a PR brochure for the family, this is what they would use. It’s all legit, and there’s not a missing dot over an i, or even a crooked cross over a t. It’s perfection to the nth degree.”
“In other words, it’s too clean,” Justin said.
“Yep. But still all true.”
“So how does that help us?” Riley asked. “If there’s nothing there?”
“Because no one is that clean,” Olivia Gates answered, a world of knowledge in her statement. “Everyone has garbage stored somewhere.”
“That’s an awfully cynical attitude you’ve got there, Gates.” Brennan Sinclair gave Olivia a toothy smile. “Damn proud to have you as my partner.”
“So how do we find the dirt?” Justin asked. He glanced over at his partner, who last year became his wife. “Riley’s question is a valid one. Just because we know that no one is that squeaky clean doesn’t mean the dirt will be easy to find.”
Angela gave Noah the look, and he took his cue. Standing, he met each operative’s eyes unflinchingly. Most of the operatives who’d assisted with his family’s rescue had returned to their regular locations. Several were already involved in new ops. For now, he would rely on the Elite team. They, along with Eden and Jordan, would do the bulk of the work. If necessary, he could have many more operatives available within a matter of hours. It might come to that, but not yet.
“We’ve faced some of the shittiest and evilest people on the planet. Monsters who have done unspeakable things. We’ve had a few stumbles here and there, but for the most part, we’ve managed to stop them.
“These people are different. They’ve got layers upon layers. Every time we think we’ve got a thread, it disappears down a rabbit hole.”
“So what you’re saying, McCall,” Aidan Thorne said, “is that they can’t be taken down in our usual damn-the-torpedoes manner.”
“Exactly. We’re not known for our subtlety, but in this matter we have no choice. We’re going in covert and undercover in every area. These people have a rare level of power and influence. Politicians of every party, numerous members of several royal families, along with some of the wealthiest and most-influential people in the world, have given their endorsement and support. Yet there’s no indication of money being exchanged.
“I want to know how. More than that, I want to know why. Why do they have this fearsome protection and loyalty? How the hell do they get away with what they get away with?
“And I want to know how we can penetrate their seemingly impenetrable veneer. Everyone has a weakness. They have theirs. We need to find it.”
He would mention nothing about the avenu
e that Olivia Gates had traveled. Looking both haunted and pale, she had returned with the cryptic news that things were in place. Whatever that meant, only time would tell if her idea would pan out. For now, they would proceed as if they were on their own.
“In the meantime, we need to make sure Giovanni is not in danger. Giselle doesn’t believe he is, but we all know that people who feel threatened don’t always react in a predictable manner.”
“How are we going to get inside and find that out?” Riley asked.
Shooting Olivia a smile, he said, “Gates will explain how that part of the op has already begun.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Two days later
London, England
His eyes gleaming with appreciation, Lucas Kane looked down at his wife. “If I haven’t told you already, you look absolutely stunning tonight.”
Standing in the long hallway, waiting for their arrival to be announced, McKenna Sloane Kane peeked up at her husband. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.” That was an understatement. Eight years of marriage, and she could still get lost in those mesmerizing eyes. The day she came to rescue him, Lucas Kane had stolen her heart.
“It feels strange to be wearing something so elegant on an op.”
He grinned down at her. “That’s because the Ghost’s usual superhero costume always ran to ragged jeans and running shoes.” He glanced down at her feet. “Shoes aren’t too uncomfortable?”
She winced slightly and then laughed softly. This was the first public event they had attended since their daughter, Madeline, had been born. Getting dressed up had been fun, but she had groaned when she’d slipped her spoiled feet into the three-inch heels. Though she was sure they were ridiculously expensive, they still weren’t the trainers she was accustomed to wearing.
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