“You should all be familiar with Henrika Hyde, as she has been on multiple Section watch lists for quite some time,” Gia began the briefing. “To the public, Henrika is a scientific genius and the CEO of Hyde Engineering, but Section knows her for what she truly is—a paramortal arms dealer who creates biomagical weapons that she auctions off to the highest bidder. As long as they can pay her outrageous prices, Henrika doesn’t care whom she sells her formulas to, what those people do with them, or how many innocent civilians they kill. She has no known political or religious ideologies. All she cares about is lining her own pockets.”
Gia’s cold, clinical assessment of Henrika Hyde was the same one I’d formed in my own mind and had written about in my reports. I thought that Henrika’s lack of ideologies made her even more dangerous and unpredictable than most paramortal terrorists and criminals. You never knew what greedy whim might strike her next.
“Our intel suggests Henrika has created a new biomagical weapon that is even deadlier than her previous efforts,” Gia said. “We don’t know exactly what the weapon does, or if it’s a liquid, gas, solid, chemical, or explosive, but we’re going to find out.”
Once again, everything she said dovetailed with my own investigation into Henrika. Thanks to several unusually large purchase orders for chemicals and other supplies, I’d realized several weeks ago that Henrika had been ramping up production at her personal lab, which was located on the grounds of her luxe estate in the Virginia countryside. She was definitely developing some new formula, although I hadn’t been able to tell whether it was an innocuous face cream or a deadly skin-melting serum.
I had been pestering Jensen for weeks to forward my suspicions to the Section higher-ups, which he’d finally done—along with presenting my conclusions as his own. I hadn’t thought anything would come of my work, but now here I was, sitting in a conference room talking about finally taking action against the weapons maker. I eyed Desmond. Unless I missed my guess, he was the one behind this sudden interest in Henrika Hyde.
Gia cleared her throat and continued the briefing. “Through various back channels, Henrika has contacted several known criminals and terrorists about her new weapon, which she is calling Redburn.”
Hence the mission name, I thought.
“Henrika is paranoid about her security and travels with a large contingent of guards at all times,” Gia said. “We’ve tried more than once to embed someone in her organization, especially among her private bodyguards, and we’ve been successful—up to a point. But the higher an undercover agent climbs in her organization, the more risk is involved. We’ve had several agents disappear without a trace. We assume those agents were discovered, questioned, and then eliminated.”
Gia hit some more buttons on her clicker, and the photos of Henrika vanished, replaced by headshots of Section agents. I recognized several of the faces. Cleaners, mostly, along with a couple of charmers.
“Since we can’t infiltrate Henrika’s inner circle, we’ve decided to snatch her right out in the open.”
Gia hit some more buttons on her clicker, and the photos of the presumed-dead Section agents vanished, replaced by several shots of a massive stone building surrounded by acres of lush, landscaped grounds. I blinked in surprise and recognition.
“Henrika is scheduled to attend a gala at the Halstead Hotel on Sunday night,” Gia said. “The event is being sponsored by the Halstead Foundation to celebrate the completion of the first stage of the historic hotel’s ongoing renovations. It’s also a fund-raiser to help pay for the remaining work.”
I frowned, my mind churning. The foundation was the same one that Henrika had sent those extremely generous donations to over the past several weeks. The money I thought was a payment or bribe for something, although I hadn’t found any malfeasance among the foundation members or in the Halstead family’s finances.
“Henrika’s attendance has been publically announced on the foundation’s website, so we’re certain she’ll be there. Given the other known criminals on the guest list, we think Henrika is going to use the gala as a cover to sell her new weapon and pocket even more millions. Supposedly, Henrika has a video of Redburn in action, something she is going to show prospective bidders to further whet their appetites and drive up the price for her weapon.”
A video? That sounded ominous and indicated Henrika was much further along in developing her new weapon than I’d realized. Also, the name Redburn nagged at me, as though I’d recently seen or heard something about it, although I couldn’t remember exactly what it was.
Gia gestured at Desmond. “For those of you who don’t know, Desmond has a long-established undercover identity as Desmond Macfarlane, an arms dealer who buys weapons either to use in his own criminal activities or to resell at higher prices. Thanks to his cover and some Section maneuvering, Desmond Macfarlane has scored an invitation to the hotel gala, where he is scheduled to have a private meeting with Henrika to discuss her new weapon. During the meeting, Desmond will neutralize Henrika’s guards so that a Section strike team can move in. Henrika will be quietly smuggled off the hotel grounds and transported to a local black site where she will be thoroughly questioned about the Redburn weapon.”
So Section was going to kidnap Henrika, torture her for information, and then most likely kill her after they had squeezed every last drop of knowledge out of her. Standard protocols, but in this case, I didn’t have a problem with them. If my work for Section had taught me nothing else, it was that the world would be much better off without certain monsters in it, and Henrika Hyde was most definitely one of those monsters.
To my surprise, Gia gestured at me. “Charlotte will accompany Desmond to the hotel as his plus-one for the gala and to help isolate, neutralize, and prepare Henrika for transport.”
“What?” Surprise shot through me, and the word exploded out of my mouth like a bullet.
Gia raised her eyebrows. “Is something wrong, Ms. Locke? I thought you would want to be part of this mission. After all, you’ve been tracking Henrika for the past few months, and you had put in a request several weeks ago to be assigned to any action taken against her.”
I bit back the curse dangling on the tip of my tongue. Gia was right. I had filed that request, back when I had been trying to get away from Jensen and into another department where I might be given a fair shake. But that request should have gotten me assigned to another analyst desk somewhere on the third floor—not down here in a fifth-floor conference room discussing my physical self actually taking part in a dangerous mission.
No doubt I had my new partner in crime, Desmond Percy, to thank for that. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his cool, calm gaze on my face. He was probably wondering whether I was going to rat him out, especially since Gia didn’t seem to know about the strings Desmond had pulled with his good buddy Trevor Donnelly to get me assigned as his liaison.
But I couldn’t do that. Desmond was right. This was a plum assignment, and I couldn’t turn it down without torpedoing my already floundering career inside Section. Plus, protesting now would make me sound like I was scared and whining, which were two other things I couldn’t afford to do inside Section.
“Gregory Jensen said my taking part in a mission might be a possibility,” I said, lying through my teeth, throwing my dead supervisor under the proverbial bus, and going for some vague neutral ground. “But I didn’t think it would actually happen. After all, I’m just an analyst, not a cleaner or even a field agent.”
Gia’s black eyebrows climbed a little higher on her face. She didn’t like my questioning her decision. “Are you up-to-date on your marksman, combat, and other field-agent qualifications?”
“Of course.”
Section 47 took its agents’ training very, very seriously. Everyone from the newest rookie analysts to the mid-level charmers to the most hardened, seasoned cleaners had to undergo standard testing at least twice a year with basic firearms.
The firearms training was one of the few
things that had always come easily to me, thanks to the hours I’d spent at the gun range with my father as a child. My magic also gave me a natural affinity for ranged weapons. My synesthesia always told me exactly where to aim, and I rarely missed my mark, no matter whether I was shooting a gun, throwing a knife, or hurling some other object toward a target.
Gia waved her hand, dismissing my concerns. “Then you’ll be fine. All you have to do is smile and hang on to Desmond’s arm for most of the evening. Once the two of you meet with Henrika, Desmond will neutralize her personal bodyguards, while you dose her with a sedative. It’s a simple, standard, cleaner-liaison operation.”
My gaze flicked to Desmond, who had the audacity to grin, as if this were all perfectly normal and he hadn’t blackmailed, threatened, and hoodwinked me into putting myself in mortal danger. I didn’t often long to be a cleaner, but at times like this, I desperately wished I had paid more attention to my father’s lessons about how to kill people with everyday objects. Because right now, I had a burning desire to shove my ink pen through Desmond’s right eyeball.
“Besides,” Gia continued. “You’re Jack Locke’s daughter. I’m sure you know how to handle yourself.”
That little tidbit got everyone’s attention, and Joan and Diego studied me with a mixture of renewed interest and curiosity. Since I was a Legacy, everyone knew who I was and especially who my father had been. Oh, the Lockes might not have the money, power, prestige, and pedigree of the Percys, but we were still one of Section’s most notorious Legacy families, and we Lockes had definitely left our mark on the organization over the years.
I sighed, giving in to the inevitable. “What’s my cover for the gala?”
“You and Desmond have a personal relationship,” Gia replied. “You’ve been involved for a few months, but the gala is the first time you’ve been seen together in public. It seemed like the best and most obvious way to establish your connection to him.”
Personal relationship? I bit back a groan. That was Section code for mistress.
“You also work for Desmond as one of his money managers, which is how the two of you met. In addition to being his plus-one, you’ll also be attending the gala to advise him on the financial feasibility of whatever deal Henrika wants to make for her Redburn weapon.”
“So I’m a glorified accountant, whispering in my lover’s ear about how much money he stands to make from either using or reselling Henrika’s weapon.”
“Yes,” Gia said, ignoring my sarcasm. “You’ve been tracking Henrika’s finances, so you can advise Desmond if something seems off about whatever deal she proposes.”
Gia clicked a few more buttons, and the exterior photos of the hotel vanished, replaced by shots of the various ballrooms. “We’re not sure exactly when or where Henrika will meet with the potential Redburn buyers. We think the meetings will happen in one of the hotel’s private conference rooms, or perhaps one of the libraries, but we won’t know for certain until Henrika actually summons the buyers.”
More images appeared on the screen, showing the hotel’s conference rooms and libraries. They were all fairly standard spaces, although the libraries were more like exhibit areas showcasing the art, antiquities, and jewelry from the Halstead family’s private collections. Paintings, sculptures, figurines, furniture. Nothing terribly interesting or unusual, except for one thing—a stunning gold chandelier necklace studded with large teardrop-shaped emeralds and smaller princess-cut white diamonds.
“Wait. Stop.” I stabbed my finger at the screen. “That’s the Grunglass Necklace.”
Gia nodded. “Yes, it belongs to the Halstead family, and it’s currently on display at the hotel as part of an exhibit celebrating the renovations. Is there something special about it?”
I held back an exasperated sigh. People really needed to start reading my reports. “Henrika loves jewelry.”
“So what?” Joan spoke up. “Everyone knows that.”
I stabbed my finger at the picture again. “So Henrika especially covets the Grunglass Necklace. I don’t know why, but the necklace has some special meaning for her, and she’s been trying to buy it for years. I didn’t realize the Halstead family still owned it. Anyway, Henrika will most likely meet with the buyers in that room, where the necklace is. So if you really want to capture her, then you should focus on that section of the hotel. Trust me.”
Gia stared at me, a thoughtful look on her face, and Joan and Diego eyed me as well. Desmond smirked at me again, as if I’d finally done something he approved of. Arrogant psycho jackass.
“You’re sure that Henrika is interested in the Grunglass Necklace? Specifically that necklace and not some other piece of jewelry on display?” Gia asked.
I shrugged. “Well, knowing Henrika, she wants it all, but she’s been chasing the Grunglass Necklace for a long, long time. It’s her white whale. She’ll go to that room sooner or later, if only to set eyes on the necklace. She might even try to steal it during the gala, since she hasn’t been able to buy it outright.”
As soon as I said the words, I knew I was right. Maybe that was why Henrika had made all those donations to the foundation—so she could score a VIP invitation to the gala and get close enough to swipe the necklace. Either way, I couldn’t imagine her being in the same room with the Grunglass Necklace and willingly leaving it behind.
Gia nodded. “All right. We’ll focus on monitoring that section of the hotel.”
“And what if Henrika doesn’t want to meet there?” Desmond asked, a tense note in his voice.
Gia shrugged. “Then we’ll snatch her from wherever she does decide to meet with you.”
Desmond sucked in a breath like he was going to say something else, but then he looked at me again, shut his mouth, and leaned back in his chair. He must have realized that my so-called big brain had given him the perfect solution for how to get close to Henrika.
Gia clicked through some more photos and started droning on about the other agents and support staff that would be involved in the Redburn mission, along with the dozens of details that needed to be addressed in order to make it a success.
Eventually, she wound down and glanced around the table. “Anything else?”
Joan and Diego shook their heads, and she looked at Desmond.
“Like you said, it’s a simple operation,” Desmond replied. “Charlotte and I will make contact with Henrika and have our private meeting to discuss the weapon. Then we’ll take out her security detail, sedate her, and turn her over to the strike team.”
LIE.
The sheer, brutal force of his falsehood slammed into my mind like a red-hot poker stabbing into my skull. I grimaced and massaged my right temple, trying to ignore the sudden, pounding ache in my head. Desmond stared at me, a bit of worry flickering across his face. No one seemed to notice it but me, though.
“Problem, Charlotte?” Gia asked.
I forced myself to drop my hand, even though my head was still aching. “Of course not.”
She eyed me a second longer, then clicked a few more buttons, talking about some other mission logistics. Joan and Diego turned their attention back to the screen. Desmond did the same, although I could have sworn he was looking at me out of the corner of his eye. Or maybe that was because I was doing the same thing to him.
I had already known that Desmond Percy was hiding things from me. I just hadn’t realized he was hiding them from Section too.
Chapter Nine
Desmond
Charlotte was pissed at me again.
I had known she would be, of course, especially when Gia revealed her cover as my money manager—and mistress. It had been stupid and selfish not to tell Charlotte more about the mission, especially those pertinent details, but I’d been afraid she would tell me to fuck off again.
She still might do that anyway. I wouldn’t blame her if she did.
After ordering us to report to the sixth-floor weapons depot tomorrow morning for mission prep, Gia wrapped up the briefing. A
s soon as she finished speaking, Charlotte grabbed her pen and notepad, yanked the door open, and left the conference room without a backward glance.
Instead of returning to her assigned liaison desk, she strode out of the bullpen. I had to resist the urge to charge after her and…do what, exactly? Explain myself? I couldn’t do that. Not without jeopardizing my chances to get my hands on Henrika Hyde, and eventually Adrian Anatoly.
Gia crooked her finger at Diego Benito, the IT tech, and beckoned him into her office to discuss some mission equipment. She closed the door behind them, leaving Joan and me to head back over to our desks.
It was just after noon, and everyone else in the bullpen had gone out to lunch. Joan glanced over, making sure that Gia was focused on Diego, then crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. The aura around her heart flared a pale, icy blue, indicating how angry she was with me.
“What was that, Dez?” Joan snapped. “You’re seriously going to use Charlotte Locke as your liaison? In case you haven’t noticed, she hates you.”
“Oh, believe me, I’ve noticed.”
Joan didn’t care for my self-deprecating humor. She glared at me again, then looked around. Once she was sure we were still alone, she sidled closer to me. “I thought you said we were in this together. That we were going to get Anatoly and all the other bastards who helped kill Graham.”
Her voice cracked on the last few words, making fissures appear in my own heart. Ever-widening, ever-deepening chasms of guilt and grief that would never truly heal, but I was going to do my best to spackle them over—starting with Anatoly’s death.
A Sense of Danger Page 12
