When Death Frees the Devil

by L. J. Hayward

  “I love you, Jack.”

  It was the perfect way to fall asleep and forget.

  They both woke at some point through the night, reaching automatically for each other. It was rushed and frantic, desperate to show the other they were still there. Jack let Ethan take charge, needing to be the one not in control this time. It felt so good, with Ethan between his legs, dick driving into him so deep and hard it was almost as if he was whole again.

  Jack dropped back into a heavy sleep moments after they’d come and when he woke the next time, was alone in the bed.

  Soft voices from beyond the closed bedroom door assured him quickly he hadn’t been abandoned again. But it also made him wary and curious. This place was Ethan’s sanctuary, his secret lair away from the prying eyes of the world and his own paranoid instincts. Had he really invited company over?

  Yes. Yes, he had.

  In a pair of hastily donned track pants and a T-shirt, Jack surveyed the scene that greeted him in the open plan living, dining and kitchen area. Mati and Lewis sat on stools at the kitchen counter, comparing things on their phones and snickering like a pair of teenagers. Meera sat on the couch, turned so she could rest one bent leg on the seat, arm on the backrest, head cradled in her hand as she listened to Ethan, who sat in the corner of the sectional piece.

  It was homey and domestic. And totally not what Jack could deal with right then.

  “Morning, sunshine,” Lewis chimed as Jack stalked past on his way to the bathroom.

  Jack showered quickly, then grumbled his way back to the bedroom for proper clothes. In jeans and a slightly nicer T-shirt, he emerged again.

  “The coffee is out if you need it,” Ethan supplied from the couch. He had a mug in hand already, but Jack could smell the tea from across the room.

  “He is such a grouchy bear before his first cup of concentrated caffeine in the morning,” Lewis said to Mati.

  Jack gave him the finger and Mati laughed at the blond man. Her tune changed to a startled gasp and largely ignored, “Mum, Jack flicked my ear!” a moment later, which made Lewis laugh in return.

  The couple of minutes it took the machine to burble away and spit out his coffee was the longest of Jack’s life, not unlike those seconds before they got the command to go in hot on an SAS mission. He craved a cigarette, feeling like he was about go into active combat. His sister and niece, whom he barely knew, in the same room as Ethan without the distraction of immediate and shocking grief. His best friend who worked for the same secret government agency as he did was getting to know them all as well. Was this what having a family meant? It had been so long Jack had forgotten just how terrifying it could be.

  And how comforting.

  Coffee in hand, he turned and looked at this strange vista. Lewis and Mati were back to duelling phones and Meera had a part tentative, part curious smile as Ethan described, from what Jack could surmise through his hand gestures, driving something, probably very, very fast. It looked . . . natural. It looked right. Seeing Mati scowl, then laugh at something Lewis did, warmed his heart. Even watching his fiery, distant sister scoot a little closer to Ethan made him smile. Maybe there was hope for all of them.

  This was what Jack fought for, both with the army and with the Office. This was what he needed to protect with his own life if necessary. The promise of this very image was what had drawn him back from so many edges and kept him centred. He almost wanted to snap a photo of this moment and give it to McIntosh and say, “This is why you never have to doubt me ever again.”

  “Weddings and funerals, man.”

  Jack shook himself and looked at Lewis. Mati had dashed off to the toilet and Lewis leaned on the counter across from Jack, sad smile on his face.

  “Huh?”

  “Drink your coffee. Your brain hasn’t kick started yet.” Lewis gestured around the beautiful space. “Weddings and funerals are the only reliable ways to bring a family together.”

  Taking a gulp he barely tasted, Jack nodded. “Speaking of which, where’s Lydia today? Still working?”

  Lewis dropped his gaze to his phone. “I don’t know. Right now, I don’t really care either.”

  His best friends had been Jack’s relationship meter for a long time. They lived and worked together so seamlessly even their occasional arguments had seemed perfect to Jack. He knew they’d worked at it though, witnessed them compromising for and supporting each other. He had even mediated a few of the bigger issues between them. But he’d never thought he’d ever hear Lewis say he didn’t care where Lydia was, however.

  “Is something wrong with you two?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Lewis let out a long breath. “You don’t need to deal with this shit right now.”

  Jack glanced at Ethan and Meera again, still marvelling at how well they appeared to be getting on. Mati came back from the bathroom and, showing that innate sense of awareness she’d hinted at before, quietly bypassed the kitchen and threw herself onto the couch between mother and uncle’s boyfriend like she’d been doing it for years, not just a single morning.

  “Yeah, actually, I think I do.” Jack leaned on the counter close to Lewis. “You’re family, Lew. What’s going on? Is it because you haven’t been working together?”

  Lewis standing in for McIntosh and Lydia running an operation without him had been the furthest apart they’d been professionally in years.

  “Are you still a temp director now McIntosh is back?” he asked curiously.

  Eyebrow cocked, Lewis shook his head. “McIntosh isn’t back at work. I’m still captaining the good ship ITA, and Tan still has his hand up my arse like the puppet master he thinks he is.”

  At least Lewis wasn’t so far gone he’d slipped into decency.

  “But she came to India to update us on the Cabal situation. She was there when she got the call about . . . about Dad.”

  “No one told me she was back on the job.” Lewis’s fingers flashed over his phone screen, typing out a message to Lydia. “And if McIntosh is up to date on Cabal shit, then Lyds has to know about it. And if she knows about it and didn’t tell me . . .” He trailed off ominously.

  Jack waited until the message was sent, then asked, “That’s not the only problem between you, though, is it?”

  “No,” Lewis admitted grudgingly. “She’s changed since she got control of the Cabal job.”

  “Power’s gone to her head?” Though Jack seriously doubted it. Lydia had been the real leader of Lewis’s unit for a long time. Lewis was the human computer and Lydia was the person at the keyboard. If that sort of influence hadn’t affected her already, then leading a super-unit of team leaders on a globe-spanning hunt for the top tier of a very secret organisation wouldn’t.

  “Made her more withdrawn,” Lewis muttered. “She doesn’t talk to me anymore. She spends more time at work than I do and I’m doing nearly eighty hours a week. You know how she was always keen on watching political manoeuvres? Well, she’s obsessed now. Obsessed. But I only know that from what I hear from others. She doesn’t talk to me about any of this. Not like she used to.”

  His phoned beeped and he looked at it, then turned it around to show Jack the message.

  TTYL.

  That was it. Nothing else.

  “But she won’t. I’ll be lucky if I see her this week at all.”

  Everything Lewis was describing was very unlike Lydia. She was dedicated to her job, yes, they all were, but she’d never let it consume her like this before. Still, she was Jack’s friend and he tried to see reason.

  “It’s a big job. Big and complex, and yes, consuming. I got lost in it too.”

  “For really important personal reasons.” Lew gestured vaguely towards Ethan. “And I’m working all the jobs right now, Jack. That’s what McIntosh does. She overseas every single fucking move any ITA asset makes, and some made by Intel and ETA as well. I’m doing all that and yet I still found the time to be there for my friend when his dad died.” The bitter diatribe ended with an ap
ologetic wince and a swipe at his damp eyes. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Jack assured him. He squeezed Lew’s biceps comfortingly. “I understand.”

  “Good. Explain it to me, then.” He sighed and slumped over the countertop.

  “Everything all right?” Ethan came around the counter and brushed his hand across Jack’s back as he went to fridge.

  “Relationship issues,” Jack murmured.

  “Oh. I’m sorry, Lewis.”

  Lewis waved at him from his face-plant on the counter.

  Ethan closed the fridge. “We don’t have anything to feed our guests, Jack.”

  Very carefully not saying he didn’t invite them around, Jack offered, “Want me to head out and get something for breakfast?”

  Lips pursed, Ethan shook his head. “I’ll take Meera and Mati out in Victoria. You and Lewis finish talking.”

  “Thanks,” Lewis muttered. “’Preciate it.”

  The promise of another ride in the Aston Martin had Mati bouncing. Meera wasn’t quite so excited, but she gave Lewis a knowing look, then followed Ethan and Mati out.

  Once alone, Lewis sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. “I get it, Jack. I really do. This job is nothing like anything we’ve ever gone after before. Not even ETA has undertaken anything on this scale. I get that she’s completely focused on it. What I don’t get is why she won’t let me help her with it.”

  That was surprising. Lewis had an uncanny ability to see patterns in what appeared as chaos to anyone else. He could sift through mountains of data and instinctively pull together all the fragments to make a cohesive whole. This was exactly what they’d needed while chasing Ethan as he searched for the Cabal leaders. And Jack had thought they had it.

  “You mean you weren’t working the job at all while we were running around after Ethan?”

  Lewis shook his head. “Nope. Tan took control of it right from the start. Lydia didn’t even put up a smidge of an objection.”

  “Jesus. You would have been exactly what we needed.”

  “Not to blow my own whistle, but yeah. And yet . . .” Lew spread his hands in a universal but-here-we-stand-screwed gesture. Then he frowned. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s intentional.”

  Jack had been as well, but he knew to let Lewis talk through his process. “Why?”

  “Let’s timeline this shit. First of all we get the green light on the biggest investigation the Office has ever undertaken. Spearheaded by humble moi. Then suddenly, McIntosh, who has never, ever, shied away from the big deals, needs some personal time off. Next thing I know, I’m wearing her pumps. The ones with the mega high heel and pointy toes. Uncomfortable doesn’t even start to get there. And because I’m such a newb, Tan’s all over me like a really bad case of shingles. I get swamped in everything but the big, fun job all my friends get to play with. Now we have McIntosh showing up in India when she’s supposed to be on leave. Significant because leave, and India.”

  “Shit.” Jack thumped the counter with the side of his fist. “That’s what I was missing. I knew McIntosh showing up in the field was weird, but I was forgetting that Australian citizens trying to get into India right now is difficult.”

  “Which means the Office got her in on the super down-low, and if that’s the case, why not just send a field asset, or redirect one of the ETA assets already there?” Lewis got up and began to pace, just a few strides either way. “I think, Jack, I think she was already in India. Before it all blew up politically.”

  Jack’s stomach clenched. “Before the leaders of the Cabal arrived even. She told me we’d pegged the wrong person as a Cabal leader. It wasn’t Sakamoto. It was Balakrishnan all along. Oh fuck. She knew before Ethan and I got to his house.”

  “But how?” Lewis muttered.

  “I don’t think our director is as straightforward as she seems sometimes,” Jack answered just as softly.

  Lewis met his grim expression. “She can’t be working with them. Surely.”

  Their silent contemplation was interrupted by the buzz of the intercom. Jack checked the security system, finding Lydia at the private lift in the foyer. She looked nervous and he hoped she was. The way she’d been treating Lewis lately and her no-show at the funeral weren’t making her his favourite person right then. But if she was here, maybe she was willing to talk.

  “Come on up,” he said into the intercom and put in the code for the lift to open for her. “It’s Lydia,” he told Lewis and opened the door for her arrival.

  Lewis slid off his stool and ran his hands through his hair. “How do I look?”

  “Shit has been known to look better.”

  His mate scowled at him but disappeared into the bathroom moments before Lydia stepped out of the lift. She crossed the foyer with a hopeful smile.

  “How are you, Jack?”

  “Getting there,” he said flatly and waved her in.

  Her smile died as she passed him. “I deserve that. You’re alone?”

  Wondering if she would be more likely to talk if she thought no one else was around, Jack said, “Yeah. The others have gone to get food. What’s up?”

  When Lydia faced him, she had a gun in hand. “We have a lot to talk about, Jack.”

  Mati graciously allowed her mother to sit in the front of Victoria, claiming she had already experienced the Aston Martin from that seat. The young woman clambered into the back, commenting how no one had fixed the car up from when “Jack smashed it into the Alfa over and over.”

  Ethan claimed they had been too busy since then to deal with Victoria but that he planned to get right onto it. He didn’t want to admit that seeing her still beaten up was an almost physical pain. As was seeing anyone other than Jack in her, but this was Jack’s family and Ethan vowed he would do anything for them, especially in light of their recent loss.

  With that thought in mind, he took them to GiGi’s, Jack’s favourite patisserie. While the women picked out a variety of pastries for breakfast, Ethan carefully chose several pieces of fudge. Some to share with everyone, some just for him and Jack. He paid for his selection and turned around to look for Meera and Mati. He found Jack’s sister first, chatting with a tall blond woman by the pastry counter.

  Donna McIntosh.

  And beside them was Mati. She was looking warily at the man looming behind her.

  Ten.

  Director McIntosh glanced over at him and nodded once. Saying something to Meera, she gestured for them all to go outside. It would be easier to fight out there, so Ethan waited until everyone had left, then followed them.

  “No sudden moves, Mr. Blade,” McIntosh said calmly once he’d joined them. “We’re not here to cause trouble.”

  Ethan looked pointedly at Ten. “Then why is he here?”

  “Merely to ensure your cooperation.”

  “What’s going on?” Meera demanded, holding Mati behind her.

  “Nothing that involves you.” Ethan held out the car keys to Meera. “Take the car, go back to Jack.” He cocked an eyebrow at the director. “Is it all right for them to go back to Jack?”

  “It should be. I’ve got someone talking to him as well. It will only get dangerous if he makes it so.”

  Everything fell into place. Why McIntosh had shown up in India so soon after their confrontation with Balakrishnan. Her confidence that he was a Cabal leader. Her “leave” from work. Why Ten was standing passively by her side.

  She was with the Cabal.

  “Meera, go to Jack. Tell him I’m sorry.”

  “Ethan—”

  “Ms. Reardon,” McIntosh said firmly. “Take your daughter and go.”

  Meera wasn’t silly. She took the keys and went. Mati didn’t argue, memories of the frantic car chase still fresh in her wide, panicked eyes.

  “If anything happens to them, I will kill you,” Ethan said to McIntosh.

  “I wouldn’t expect any less. Shall we go?”

  Ethan had followed McIntosh, with Ten on his six, to a dark coloured 4W
D where, once inside, he’d been cuffed and blindfolded. They’d travelled to what Ethan believed was a small airfield outside of Sydney, where they boarded a midsized jet. While Ten piloted it, McIntosh gave Ethan the tiny, ceramic-shielded beacon to hide under the skin of the open wound on his hip—so it wouldn’t be detected by scans or body searches—then sedated him for the remainder of the trip back to the Cabal.

  After getting above ground, cracking the ceramic casing and letting the beacon send its signal, then glimpsing McIntosh in the lift, Ethan was herded back into his cell. He was strapped to the cot and his leg broken, as per the Doctor’s command.

  He barely felt it while it was happening. It was shocking how easily he’d fallen back into the unfeeling place he’d learned to retreat to as a child. The defence mechanism he’d had to perfect in order to survive. Then he’d watched Eleven die by his own hand and it had felt as if the knife had cut him instead of his brother. A sharp, stinging slice followed by a dull but persistent ache he could no longer ignore.

  He’d tried to hide it, desperately did not want to be the weak one again, the “bad luck,” but hadn’t succeeded. Two had seen the change in One-three after Eleven’s death. As had Seven. Even Two had doubled down on him, One-three hadn’t been able to go back to how he’d been before. He’d resisted and fought and felt himself slowly being worn down. Seven had been his rescue in those days. She hadn’t consoled or defended, but rather given him a quiet place to simply be himself. When he cried, she hadn’t insulted. When he slept, she hadn’t attacked. When he wanted a kind touch, she at least hadn’t punched, even if there wasn’t much warmth in the cool hand she’d put on his back or cheek or head.

  After fracturing his left fibula, they set it and wrapped it in a stabilising bandage and brace, and allowed him to remain on the cot, rather than string him back up. They clearly didn’t mean to cripple him permanently, just ensure he didn’t make another attempt on the lives of every guard on the island. And perhaps it meant the Doctor didn’t want him dead at all.

  Was that the goal of the sessions? To assess if Ethan could be brought back into the Cabal and used as he once had been? They’d lost all of their assassins bar Ten, so was this them trying to salvage what they could of the program?