by Amity Cross
“What aren’t you telling us?” X snarled, his entire body tensing.
“You want Vesper?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at his reaction. “The real Vesper? You’re looking at her.”
“But you’re meant to be dead,” I said, my mouth dropping open. “That’s what this whole fucking thing is about. Why Moltke—”
“Moltke believes a lie,” she snarled. “He’s blinded by emotion.”
X stepped forward, drawing his gun. “You need to explain yourself,” he hissed, anger brimming in his eyes. “Now.”
“My name,” she said, pushing off the wall so she could match X’s stance. “Is Vesper Cunningham. I was a sleeper agent planted by a black ops division of Russian Intelligence. My mission was to gain the confidence of an MI6 agent specifically chosen for me.” Gathering British secrets and handing them to Russia.
“You’re the enemy,” I whispered.
“And what makes you think we won’t deliver you to a federal prison?” X asked, staring her down.
“I no longer serve any country or organization,” she stated. “MI6 will have a file on me, of that I’m sure. Look me up.”
“The hospital…” I began. “The day you disappeared…”
“Was an extraction,” she explained, glancing at me. “My employer saw the attempt on my life as a threat to my cover, so I was pulled from duty.” She glanced away. “I didn’t want to go, but in hindsight, it was the best thing. I remained loyal to my agency for a time, but then broke away from their service. That is another story and one I don’t care to tell.”
“If you were in love, why are you going after him?” X asked. “It’s not making sense.”
“It’s true,” Banshee replied. “I loved Moltke once. Enough to tell him the truth, and he accepted my subterfuge despite the cost to his own reputation at MI6. We never got to see how that played out. The night I confessed was the night my own agency came for me.”
Folsom had suggested the same thing, minus the double agent angle, and it made sense to a point. The lengths Moltke had already gone to find and avenge Vesper.
“Why?” X prodded.
“Moltke is no longer the man I once loved,” Banshee declared. “In the years he went dark, he was ruthless in his pursuit of me. He carved a path of destruction in his single-minded need to rekindle our lost love. He got too close, so he was fed a lie. A double was planted to make him believe the British Government had me in custody since the night I was extracted. Irrefutable evidence that I’d been incarcerated in a federal facility. It wasn’t until much later that I realized the nature of evidence they’d planted. They made Moltke believe I’d been tortured, starved, and kept in darkness for five years until I’d succumbed under the pressure of my treatment. He believed they’d murdered me in the worst way possible.”
I glanced at X, and his expression gave away that he was thinking the exact same thing. So that explained what he’d done to Lorelei. I assumed it was also the reason why she’d broken away from her agency and turned herself into a mercenary. If that was her case, it was a pretty good one.
“Why would they go to those lengths to make him believe you were dead?” X asked. “Why not make it simple and fake a gunshot or a stab wound? Why fabricate years of torture?”
She shrugged. “They wanted to spark him into action, I suppose. Get him back into MI6 where they could manipulate him to commit mass murder.”
My blood ran cold, and I swallowed hard. Shit, Moltke was just a tool in a grand conspiracy to wipe out an entire spy network. Military Intelligence was one of the largest in the world, apart from the CIA. Grand probably wasn’t the right word. Epic. Yeah, it was an epic conspiracy that would lead to the murder of thousands of lives.
The gravity of what we’d been unknowingly dealing with this whole time made me feel sick.
“I’m still not convinced,” X said. “What’s stopping you from using us to lead you to Moltke so you can run off into the sunset together? You could still be with them. You could be a part of this.”
Banshee stood tall, her expression never changing. Just like a certain cold, hard assassin I knew. “Regardless of my reputation or what you people think of me, Moltke is chasing a ghost. Murdering the entire British Intelligence network is a pointless slaughter. A lie by the people I once trusted has driven him to insanity, and I have to stop it. This will not bring him justice. It will only bring him and the world pain that didn’t need to be felt. He is being manipulated and driven to become a monster against his will. I cannot let him suffer this fate.”
I glanced at X, knowing that I was pretty much convinced she was legit. Probably because I understood more about the notion of normal person love than he ever would. X was a much harder mountain to climb than me.
“I believe you,” I said, causing X to hiss through his teeth. “He’s a stubborn asshole.”
“The problem with people switching allegiances is there is no way of knowing when they will switch back,” he stated, his finger lingering over the safety on the back of his gun. “You’ve turned no less than twice. Third time is lucky, yes?”
“X,” I said, curling my hand around his wrist. “We need her, and she needs us. We’re talking about mass murder here. If Moltke pulls this off, there’s no telling who this technology will be sold to next. If it gets dumped into the water supply, we could be talking about mass genocide.”
“This needs to end before more innocent people are killed,” Banshee said, prodding the monster. She glanced at me before turning back to X. “Are you with me?”
X hissed and dropped his arm. “If you try anything…”
Banshee laughed and turned her attention back to me. “Men, huh?”
Chapter 25
X
I stared at Banshee, waiting for the moment she’d slip because if she were lying, she’d have to at some point. No one, not even me, was that good at duplicity.
The sounds of running water echoed through the quiet room as Mercy showered…and as I watched our unexpected houseguest.
“Where is the nerd?” she asked, waving her hand absently.
“That’s none of your concern,” I replied, narrowing my eyes.
She sighed.
“Why did you stop me in Berlin?” I asked, my thoughts going back to the scuffle we’d had in that alley. I’d been stalking Bateman, trying to get to Moltke. Speaking about Bateman…he’d disappeared after the events at the wharf and hadn’t returned.
“You were in my way,” she replied blandly. “And you were going to give yourself away if you lurked much closer.”
“If I get too close, then it’s usually too late for them.”
“We are all skilled, Blood, but underneath it all, we are still human.”
“At some point, humanity is all but lost.” I’d given up mine on several occasions to get the job done. I’d given up on it for eight years while working for Royal Blood. One had to have a certain…coldness…to live in this world of murder and mayhem.
“One day, you will understand,” Banshee said. “Giving it up and pushing it aside are two very different things. You look very human to me now, yes?”
I promptly decided I didn’t like her.
“What do you know about sleeper agents?” she asked, casting her gaze out of the window.
“A sleeper agent is placed in a target country or organization, not on a mission but to act as a potential asset if activated,” I recited, then glanced at her. “Were you activated?”
“Of course I was. My mission was to gather intelligence about Moltke’s comings and goings in relation to his investigation into a human trafficking organization. An organization mine wanted to keep in business.”
“They wanted to let those sick fucks keep operating?” I asked. “Why?”
“Dirty men need a steady supply of things to play with,” Banshee replied. “Powerful Russian men with God complexes were a crowd that needed to be kept happy. If you know what I mean.”
It was no secret that her homeland was o
ne of the most corrupt in the world. Rich men were rich for a reason. Bribes were commonplace, as well as sexual deviancy it seemed.
“You didn’t agree,” I stated.
“No, but at first, I did my job. I went about my life seducing Moltke, and when the time came, I followed protocol. Just like I’d been programmed to do.” She glanced at me and smiled wickedly. “Something you know a great deal about, no?”
“Are you saying you were conditioned to follow your mission?”
“Not in the same manner, but I may as well have. My employer had certain strong-arm tactics to ensure cooperation.”
“Then you don’t know,” I snapped. “Being tortured to forget your past and being remade into a monster is nothing like having your arm twisted. Don’t patronize me.”
She laughed and shook her head. “If you say so.”
“Your attitude needs adjusting if you ask me,” I said with a sneer. “You want us to help bring down your ex-husband, yet you poke and prod the monster every chance you get…and you’ve only been here five minutes.”
“I can let you go try again if you like,” she shot back, not missing a single beat. “You’ve been doing such a brilliant job so far.”
“You know nothing,” I hissed, tightening my hold on the gun in my lap.
Banshee leaned forward, her expression never once giving away her true feelings. “Then hear this, Xavier Blood. We all have sad stories, so stop thinking you’re so special and deserving of the world’s sympathy. I had a bleak childhood and an even bleaker adolescence. I was mistreated and beaten during my basic training as a Russian Intelligence agent. I was forced to come to Britain and marry a stranger chosen for me. The life I was meant to lead as a sleeper agent was not a pretty one. I could have died waiting for an order that was never coming. I could have died if I was discovered. I could have died that night in the hospital at the hands of MI6. A lot of things could have happened to me if not for Moltke. What I am about to do is not a choice I ever wanted to make. He was meant to let me go and move on. I see you love Mercy more than life itself. I see it in every part of you. Never betray her trust like I did Moltke’s. This whole mess…” She sighed, and I knew she blamed herself for what Moltke had become. In a way, she was, but a great deal of the conspiracy had been out of her hands. She had been a pawn just as much as Moltke was now.
“He forgave you,” I stated.
“And to what end?” she scoffed. “Don’t put her in the same position. The life I lead now is not much better than the one I had before. I am no one. I have no name, no country, no family, no freedom… Hold on to your love, Xavier Blood, and never let it go.”
The water shut off in the bathroom, and we fell silent, but her gaze never left mine. I nodded once and set the gun on the coffee table. A small gesture to let Banshee know I trusted her…for now.
“Jackson will be back in the morning,” I said, glancing at my watch. “In four hours.”
She inclined her head. “Then I will sleep…if you promise not to slice my throat.”
Rising to my feet, I rolled my eyes. “What did I say about poking the monster?”
Smiling, she kicked up her feet on the couch and nestled back into the corner. “But it is so much fun.”
Sighing, I closed the bedroom door behind me. I had a great deal to think about in the wake of our conversation. Banshee had driven home some truths I had already known about myself and my actions, but hearing them from someone who was living with the consequences made it all that much more real.
In the bathroom, Mercy was pulling on her top when I leaned against the doorjamb.
“Did you play nice?” she asked when she saw me.
“She’s sleeping,” I replied. “I left her there alone. I’m pretty sure that’s nice.”
Pushing off from the jamb, I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and tugged.
“We’ll end this, X,” she said, sinking against me. “Then we’ll have forever to figure out where we’re meant to be.”
“I hope so,” I murmured.
I held her close, the scent of the cheap hotel shampoo filling my senses. Her skin was still slightly dewy from her shower, her hair damp and dripping on her shoulders. Grabbing a towel from the rail beside us, I began pressing it against her wet locks.
“An assassin drying my hair,” she mused, sounding tired.
“I’m sorry,” I said, forcing the words through my lips.
“I know.”
“I need…” I sighed.
“I know,” she said more firmly. “It doesn’t mean your actions don’t hurt.”
I grunted. “I know.”
“Let’s just get this over and done with,” Mercy said, plucking the towel from my hands. “Figure out how to stop Moltke, then we can deal. Okay?”
I’d rather deal now, but I was inclined to give her everything she desired in the wake of being such an epic asshole.
Nodding, I stepped back. “I’ll let Jackson know we have a guest so he doesn’t piss his pants when he gets here.”
Her lips curved into a smile, and she laughed softly. “Sure.”
Hesitating, I curled my hand around the doorjamb. “We have a way forward now, Mercy,” I murmured. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
The smile faded from her face, and she glanced down at the towel in her hands. “I know.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I turned and closed the door behind me, the catch clicking softly.
One thing would never change where Mercy and I were concerned. I’d love her until the end of the world and to the end of whatever was after that.
Whatever it took.
Forever and always.
Chapter 26
Mercy
When the sun rose, so did Banshee.
I was peering through the curtains down at the street below when she opened her eyes and sat up like some sort of bloody Terminator.
“Well, you run like clockwork, don’t you?” I said, letting the drapes fall back into place.
“Mind over matter,” she replied. “Where’s the nerd?”
“Jackson,” I said firmly.
“He better get here soon because we’re almost out of time.”
The bedroom door opened, and X appeared, his hair still damp from his shower. “He’ll be here,” he said, cutting in. “And we’ll get what we want.”
There was a knock at the door, and he stepped forward, checking the peephole. “Speaking of…”
Flipping off the chain and unlocking the door, he let in Jackson, who rushed inside the room, words spilling from his mouth in an excited mess.
“You wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had. The office is in a frenzy. I mean, I’ve seen sharks feed on the telly, but that had nothing on the—” He stumbled and clutched his laptop bag against his chest. “That’s…” He jabbed a finger at her. “That’s Banshee!”
Banshee blew him a kiss and went back to picking her fingernails.
“She’s with us,” I said. “Unfortunately, we need her intimate knowledge of Moltke.”
“Intimate?” he asked, glancing between X and me.
X sighed and filled him in on the cliff notes version of the story Banshee had told us the night before.
“You know the timeline we’re on,” he went on. “And our track record. We need to finish him before he finishes everyone else.”
Jackson nodded and sidled across the room, his gaze firmly on our houseguest. “I warned MI6 just like you asked,” he said. “They’re on high alert. Scanning every available network, tasking satellites, running facial recognition… It’s a mad house.”
“All the more reason we get in before they mess things up for us,” Banshee drawled. “I really wish you hadn’t got them involved.”
“They’re our agency,” I said. “Of course we’re going to get them involved when we have no other option. Seriously, unless you phoned ahead while I was stuck in a coffin six feet under, how the fuck were we supposed to know you were going to show up?” I rolled m
y eyes.
“Mercy,” X murmured in my ear, and I tensed. I was still pissed at him even though we’d called a truce.
Totally ignoring my attitude, Banshee reached for her bag and pulled out a rolled up set of blueprints and a tiny but thick volume of the A to Z Guide to London. Shit, I didn’t think they even printed street maps anymore. I raised an eyebrow at the paper trail but decided to keep my wisecracks to myself as she smoothed the blueprints out across the coffee table and opened the book to what I assumed was the corresponding page.
“Moltke is storing the Veltium-34 at a facility here,” Banshee said, pointing at the map. “It has full capabilities for chemical storage and manufacturing, though it is quite small considering the clients they deal with. These are the building plans.” I didn’t bother asking her how she got those.
“It’s like half the size of the facility in Berlin,” Jackson said, running his fingers over the plans. “Looks like they’d only store on a limited basis once manufacture is complete.”
“It used to be owned by one of the big pharmaceutical companies but has since fallen under private operations,” Banshee said, eyeing Jackson. Probably sizing up his ability.
I didn’t have to ask what private meant. Private as in the bad guys.
“As long as they follow the law and have some kind of cover operation, no one is going to look too close,” Jackson explained. “Unless they slip up. Then the authorities would rip them apart looking for things to prosecute over.”
“I’ve been watching the facility on and off for the past week,” Banshee declared. “There’s not much activity during the day, but at night, the place is lit up like Christmas. Something is happening there. Something big and on a strict timetable.”
“How do you know it’s Moltke?” I asked. “It could be totally legit.”
She raised her eyebrow, obviously pissed that I was questioning her logic. I didn’t know her for shit, so she had to get used to it. I doubted it would be the last annoying question before the details of this plan were set in stone.
