Ostrovsky had been waiting on Stoke to ask that so he didn’t have to, but Derain was even better.
“Peter and Gwen disappeared, along with all of his Fratelli staff, before Bardaric’s assassin was caught,” Vestavia answered, clearly not happy to be put on the spot. “I have no idea. The secret wing in Kore burned to the ground, damaging part of the public area of the women’s center. All records relating to the Fratelli were removed. Bardaric might even have them stashed somewhere, if they’re still alive. He was hell-bent on ensuring I would have no allies here, but if he thought removing Wentworth would cripple me he underestimated me and the extent of my resources.”
“Speaking of which, have you located your mole, Vestavia?” Stoke asked.
“Yes. I’m taking care of that as soon as we finish here.”
Ostrovsky finished up the meeting and ended the call. He sat back in his overstuffed office chair, contemplating the sun burning off the fog in downtown Boston outside his living room window.
The Denver mission was not an entirely successful operation but was also not a complete loss since Jackson had pinned the whole mess on Bardaric, right down to the attempt on the prime minister’s life.
Jackson had told the authorities Bardaric had been the person directing him. Yes, Jackson would have told the FBI and anyone else that he’d been a paid killer for some crazy guy who believed he supported a cause. The name Fratelli never came up in the report Ostrovsky had gotten his hands on.
He’d chosen well twenty-seven years ago when he killed Jackson’s father and became the boy’s benefactor, guiding his education and destiny.
The greatest casualty in all of this was Jackson.
He’d served Ostrovsky exceptionally by convincing Vestavia that Bardaric had been behind the unauthorized killings in the U.S.
Jackson was loyal to the end, sending the U.S. after Bardaric, which took care of Ostrovsky’s problems. Then Jackson ended his own life, as they’d always discussed. He’d used one of his small fingernails to slice his wrist.
Vestavia had been right to worry about Bardaric being the most dangerous of the seven on their Angeli council… until now.
None of the other five had considered who the second-most dangerous one might be. Ostrovsky pressed the speed dial on his cell phone and waited until the clicking finished so he could speak over a secure line.
When his Asian contact answered, Ostrovsky told him, “We will have a new UK representative soon. How is my project coming?”
Linette walked into the reception area outside Vestavia’s office, where Basil and Frederick waited. She took stock of her counterparts and the past twenty-four hours.
The mission had failed according to Fratelli terms. She and the other two had to answer for their parts.
She’d worn a windbreaker over her blouse and slacks. Vestavia had called her twenty minutes ago and ordered her to his office. Bed heads and casual clothes on the other two meant they’d also received little notice. She’d grabbed the first thing she could find that would hide any trembling.
Basil looked grim, but when he caught her eye he shrugged, as if to say “Some things are out of our control.”
Not true. She’d been in full control of sending the bomb locations the minute she could. If she’d been able to leave Vestavia faster once she had the information she might have gotten it to them in time to disarm all five bombs. One had gone off, but there had been only one casualty. Not thousands.
Still, someone had died because she couldn’t give them five or ten more minutes’ notice.
Vestavia would not be forgiving.
Her conscience would have been less forgiving if she’d allowed thousands of innocent people to die. She steeled herself to face her punishment for failure and prayed he hadn’t discovered that she’d leaked the information.
Basil lifted his eyebrows suggestively and winked. So sure of winning something—her—out of this mission.
She ignored him.
Vestavia opened the door and walked away—their sign to enter.
Linette tried to breathe normally but all she could manage were painful little drags of air through her constricted throat. She took her usual position next to the brass statue, standing with straight posture, eyes staring dead ahead.
Basil and Frederick filed in behind her, closing the door, then standing next to her. Three lieutenants in a line.
“Fra, I know there were problems—” Basil started.
Vestavia held up his hand, which brought immediate silence. “Actually, this project went better than I anticipated.”
Linette blinked twice quickly but maintained her stance.
Vestavia went to his desk and lifted a file. “Yes, in spite of the underwhelming results of the Chicago bombing, I did get something I’ve been searching for.”
Basil and Frederick relaxed immediately.
Linette had worked with Vestavia long enough to understand the meaning of his deceptively happy voice. He was anything but.
“I’ve kept close tabs on all of you.” He strolled along in front of them, holding the file behind him in the image of Hitler addressing his men. “One of you has been a very busy person.”
Frederick’s skin seemed to shrink and lose color.
Linette’s hands were icy and damp. Had Vestavia found a second ghost on the computers? She’d been forced to wait until the very last minute to send her online contact the coordinates, and routing the post had taken extra time.
She’d been careful, but maybe not careful enough.
Vestavia smiled at Basil. “I’ve seen you here late at night putting in overtime. Long hours every day.”
Basil’s cheeks puckered, but he didn’t smile, though she could feel how much he wanted to gloat at what he clearly perceived as a compliment.
“You’ve certainly worked hard to show me how bright and dedicated you are.” Vestavia’s voice lightened, as if he were happy about something. “I have to admit, I’m impressed.”
“Thank you, Fra,” Basil said.
When Vestavia turned to stroll back the other way, Basil sent Linette a confident leer.
And here she’d been worried about getting caught by Vestavia. That disgusting toad Basil was making mental plans for how he’d abuse her. She could see it in the liquid slime gleaming in his eyes.
No, not again. Never again would she let some animal use her. The last one had been too old to hurt her more than three or four times a week.
The animal standing at her elbow would hurt her that many times a night.
Vestavia stopped and wheeled back around. “You covered many parts of this mission, didn’t you, Basil?”
Basil was stunned. He licked his lips, unable to answer.
“It’s okay, Basil. You earned the credit. Why not take it?”
The sound of pressure releasing slipped past Basil’s lips. He gave a fair impression of looking humble. “Just checking on the whole team, Fra. I knew this was important to you.”
“Yes, this mission was important, but for more than just wrecking a city. We can do that any time we want.”
Basil’s next facial impression was that of a confused mutt.
Vestavia opened the file and glanced at the notes. “I need good people, dependable people, trustworthy people. I reward those who show me more than simple commitment.”
Linette noticed Vestavia left out the part about what he did to those he couldn’t trust.
“I’ve been looking for a mole in our organization for a while now, and I’ve found that person.”
Linette kept staring straight ahead. Panic would be a dead giveaway. If he’d caught her, she’d—
“You’re brilliant, Linette.” He started walking toward her. “You’re the epitome of dedication and follow instructions to a T.”
Basil gaped at her.
She slid her eyes horizontally, refusing to take the bait. She had no other plan than denial.
“That’s why I picked you.” Vestavia stepped past her. “Wha
t I’m wondering is why I ever allowed someone like Basil to infiltrate my operation.” He turned on Basil. “I found the ghost trail on your computer where you sent the coordinates to a chat room.”
Basil’s face looked as though he was already dead.
He would be soon.
Vestavia snapped his fingers and guards burst into the room. Basil finally caught on. He looked from Vestavia to the guards in horror. “No, I didn’t betray you.”
When one guard grabbed Basil, he screamed, “Noooo!” The second guard slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth.
Linette should feel some guilt over leaving her files in her office for Basil to break in and read them, or for routing the post with the bomb location to the chat room through Basil’s computer, using his ID code in a buried signature.
To be honest, she felt relief.
Vestavia dismissed Frederick, then told Linette, “Sorry I couldn’t give you time to shower. We’ve got a busy day. Meet me back here in an hour.”
“Absolutely, Fra.” She nodded and walked out on weak legs, but she’d taken one animal out of the game.
Chapter Forty-six
Hunter walked into the offices in the Bat Tower overlooking downtown Nashville that housed the BAD agency.
He doubted this meeting would be casual considering Tee was joining Joe to give Hunter their decision on his future.
“Joe and Tee are waiting,” Danya said when he stepped through the doors into the reception area. He’d heard about a new hire for the offices. Average-looking except for the spiked red hair and blaring yellow skirt with a black sweater, she sat behind a desk tapping at a computer.
“Thanks. Gotthard here, too?”
“In the back conference room with Rae, uh, working on the memorial,” Danya answered, a halfhearted smile on her lips. The quick downcast of her eyes back to whatever she was working on reflected the general mood after they’d lost one of their own.
Korbin had died saving the lives of thousands of people.
Including Todd, Pia, and Barrett.
Hunter thanked him daily for their lives. He’d never be able to repay that debt. He would keep an eye out for Rae and watch her back if he gained his freedom again. He was glad to have cleared the air with Korbin before this happened, but that didn’t make his loss any easier.
Pushing forward, he turned down the hall to Joe’s office, which connected with Tee’s.
Rae came around the corner at the other end, barreling forward on long sweeping strides, head down. She must have sensed him when he stopped walking. She looked up and slowed a step, then picked up speed.
“Rae, I’m sorry about—”
“Save it.” She only glanced at him for a microsecond.
Long enough for him to see that nothing would repair the damage inside her. Losing Korbin had torn her in ways Hunter understood, but she wouldn’t want to hear it.
Not right now and not from him.
He reached Joe’s office door and entered.
Tee stood behind Joe’s desk. The glance of acknowledgment she gave him reminded Hunter of an executioner sizing up a condemned man’s neck. “Joe was called away.”
Most people might foolishly think having only Tee, a petite Vietnamese woman with fine features and gorgeous eyes, would play into Hunter’s favor.
Those would be the people who had no inkling of Tee’s background or abilities. Those who were deceived by a woman in four-inch heels who just reached his shoulders and turned the electric-blue skirt suit she wore into an erotic statement.
She could handle a man twice her size and kill with the paper clip she held in her delicate fingers.
“Still want to talk?” Hunter knew the answer, but someone had to make the next move.
“Of course.” She finished clipping the document and placed it carefully on the corner of Joe’s desk. Everything about her was careful, calculated, and controlled.
“Have a seat,” she said, moving to the front of Joe’s desk, where she leaned a hip.
That had not been a suggestion but an order.
“Didn’t think this would take that long.” He sat down in the office chair facing her.
“You in a hurry?” she asked.
“Depends on what you and Joe have decided.”
“We haven’t.”
Ah, hell. They were going to lock him up and make him sweat out their decision. If he tried to disappear, they’d simply go get Abbie, who couldn’t leave her mother’s bedside now that she was improving. They both were.
Hunter owed a few more thanks, like to Dr. Murphy from Johns Hopkins, who’d determined Abbie hadn’t been given anything really harmful. Jackson had lied. Big surprise.
Abbie had gone home with her mother. Hunter wanted to see her so much his body ached from missing her.
He’d never been passive in his life and wasn’t starting now. “Why haven’t you made a decision yet?”
“We can’t agree.”
He leaned forward. “On?”
“I was ready to take you out of the field.”
She hadn’t said “permanently,” but this was Tee, so that was a given. He had no idea what he could say to sway her, so he waited for her to continue.
“Joe and Retter understand why you did what you did. It’s not that I don’t understand. It’s that I don’t care. I only care about our missions and our agents.”
He had nothing to gain by trying to bullshit her. “You’re right. No one should take the autonomy I did.”
She angled her head a fraction and raised one fine black eyebrow. “Why didn’t you realize that before now?”
“I wanted to kill the person who had taken Eliot from me.” He hadn’t expected to be talking about this, but he owed Joe and Retter for blowing the chance they’d given him to prove he could be a part of the team. If Joe was willing to speak up for him then Hunter could tell Tee the truth. “That was rage speaking. Eliot would have been pissed if he’d known. He wouldn’t care about stopping one assassin for payback. He worked for BAD to stop groups like the Fratelli, to make this country safe for the people he loved. I’ve finally realized I was actually doing a disservice to him and what he lived for by going after one assassin. If he was standing here today he’d kick my ass across this building and back for losing sight of the big picture.”
She didn’t speak, just kept piercing him with a stiletto-pointed gaze, so he continued.
“Regardless of what you decide, I’d like to attend Korbin’s memorial. I don’t know if he’s got any family, but I’m in if we’re doing something for them.” He wasn’t going to flaunt his money and say he’d cover it all. That would insult the rest of the team. He’d pay his share. That’s what a team member would do.
“I wouldn’t have believed it,” she murmured.
“What? That I could be honest?”
“No, that you could change my mind.” Her lips curved softly into a smile with only a hint of evil hiding. “You’re back on the team, but what about this Abbie? She’s in the media. Not our favorite people.”
“She lost her job with the media.”
“Make sure she doesn’t get another one.”
“How do you expect me to do that?”
“I don’t care how you do it.” Tee got up and walked around the desk, then leaned forward with her hands supporting her. “She knows about you and what you do.”
“She’s not going to say anything,” Hunter argued. “She doesn’t know anything about this location, the name of our organization, nothing that she could tell anyone, even if she would, which she won’t.”
“You sound pretty certain.”
“I am certain. I trust her with my—”
“Life?” Tee smirked.
Hunter didn’t have to think before answering this time. “Yes.”
“Really.” Tee straightened away from the desk and crossed her arms. “Did you get a new safe house?”
“Yes.”
“Going to share that location with us?”
“No, we don’t, which is why we never pressed you before. Anyone else know about the location?”
“No.”
“But Eliot knew, didn’t he?”
Hunter shrugged. “Yes. What’s your point?”
“You don’t trust Abbie, so I don’t trust her. How do you plan to assure us she isn’t going to be a threat to our security?”
You need plenty of fluids.” Abbie held the cup so her mother could take a sip of vitamin-infused water. Dr. Murphy had released her mother two days ago to come home.
Abbie’s apartment still stank of tear gas, which reminded her of the deep fear she’d lived through. She’d packed a bag of clothes she washed as soon as she reached her mother’s house.
Her mother took the cup from her hand. “Don’t ignore me, Abigail. This is the first chance we’ve had to talk without Hannah in the room. What happened? Why did you lose your job?”
“Because the station is still spinning this to fix the backlash from me being involved when Gwen Wentworth was shot. They gave me a chance to save my name if I’d write an exclusive on my ordeal. I refused. When I started, I thought I’d like working for television, but I don’t want to share intimate details of what happened to me, so I can’t see myself asking someone else to do that. My reputation is shot in television.”
“I’m sorry, honey.”
“The only upside is that I hated working for a scumbag.” She smiled at her mother. “But I did hear some good news. Brittany’s grandfather fired Stuey. And I did get an offer from a regional magazine to report on Chicago’s who’s who in business and where they’re seen around town. They seem to think since I was seen with a Thornton-Payne I must be ‘in the know.’ ” She did the air quotes with her fingers. Filming documentaries might not happen in this lifetime with the dark cloud hanging over her television career.
“Oh.”
“Why do you sound disappointed, Mom?” Not that Abbie was doing backflips over this job offer or that she believed anyone in the Thornton-Payne league would ever speak to her, but it was a paying gig if she got it and meant reporting on the cream of the corporate world.
Silent Truth Page 36
