by AJ Quinn
Darien squared her shoulders and gave a terse nod. “Once the three leaders were dead, the rest was surprisingly easy. Without them, the networks they’d built fell in total disarray, fighting over leadership, while we systematically destroyed everything they controlled. Warehouses, nightclubs, brothels, meth labs. The whole house of cards came down. Or at least, that’s what we thought. Until now.”
Jessie felt breathless, as if she’d just stepped off a tilt-and-spin carnival ride. “And just like you did at thirteen, you’re also telling me you’re willing to do anything to go after them now.”
“Yes.”
“No matter what?”
“No matter what. The Guild—then and now—is still responsible for my mother’s death. Somehow something wasn’t completely destroyed. Something survived. That’s my failure and I’m going to rectify that now.”
“Even if you get hurt?”
“Jesslyn, I’ve stood on the edge of this particular abyss before, battered and bruised but still standing. I’m not afraid. And I won’t go down without a fight.” Darien rubbed her face as if to shake off the last few minutes, then met Jessie’s gaze. “Now you know it all.”
Not entirely. Jessie stared at her. She knew there were questions she still needed to ask…like what Darien had planned and how she could help. But some of those questions, she could see by the look on Darien’s face, would have to wait.
That was okay, because she realized Darien had given her exactly what she’d asked for. Her honesty. Her trust. “Ben told me he raised you from the time you were in your early teens. Is this how you ended up with him?”
“Yes. When it was all done, when we thought there was nothing left of the Guild, I had nowhere to go. No family to go to. I was prepared to strike out on my own, but Ben took me back to London with him, and eventually to MI6.” She paused, bit her lip. “I had to go through a lot of psych evaluations before I could officially join, but I wasn’t worried. I knew I wasn’t crazy.”
“I know that.” Jessie paused. Through the shadows, she had seen something flicker in her expression and she needed to know. “But why Ben?”
“You’re asking why Ben and not Grace. That’s what you want to know, isn’t it?”
Jessie nodded and simply waited. Didn’t breathe. She could see the question had hit a little too close, and Darien’s expression offered a glimpse of the emotions she kept so tightly under wrap.
“That’s one you’ll have to ask your mother sometime.”
She began breathing again. “All right, I’ll do that. Can I ask one last thing?”
Darien looked up and Jessie thought she saw something different. “I can’t believe there’s anything left to ask.” A slow smile curved her lips. “What haven’t I told you?”
“I think I just want to know—do you ever get tired of what you do?”
She went so still Jessie was afraid she’d finally overstepped her bounds. But it was too late to take the question back.
“Tired?” Darien blinked. “It must be obvious by now that I started down the path I’m on not for any noble purpose or calling, Jesslyn, but for revenge. Pure and simple. But anger and vengeance can only sustain a person for so long. It’s like living without a soul. So, yes, I’m tired. Tired of adrenaline and lies and not really knowing who I am. I have been for quite some time, and I’d like not to do what I do anymore. When I told Ben it was over for me once we finished this, I meant what I said. Instead of living from assignment to assignment, mission after mission, I think I’d like to just be.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Yes, it does, and I still have hope.” She paused and raised her eyes to meet Jessie’s. “Did we just bond?”
Jessie laughed. “Now that’s a scary thought.”
“Isn’t it, though?” She grinned. “But the truth is when it all gets to be too much, I remind myself of something your mother once said to me.”
“My mother?”
Darien nodded. “She said that things have a habit of working out the way they are meant to be.”
Jessie smiled. “My mother’s a big believer in looking back not with regret but for what you can learn.”
“Unfortunately, I’ve learned what I do is necessary.” Darien bit off a sigh. “And until this particular job is finished, it does no good to think about anything else.”
Chapter Fifteen
As the promise of the new day spread across a blood-washed sky, Darien leaned against the balcony railing and let the breeze whisper around her. She loved this time of day almost as much as twilight. She loved the play of otherworldly shadows and light on the city, and the photographer in her wished she had one of her cameras in her hands.
Around her the soft silence stretched, deepened, allowing her thoughts to run unchecked and uncensored in her head. She just wasn’t sure what was more painful—her thoughts or the third degree she’d just experienced.
She couldn’t remember a time when she’d divulged as much deeply personal information. Not even to the psychiatrists who had endlessly grilled her prior to clearing her into the ranks of MI6.
Not that she’d ever blamed them. After all, how many thirteen-year-olds were brought to them having survived taking down three powerful organized-crime heads? And how many thirteen-year-olds could boast having one of the agency’s most respected covert operatives as her unofficial, self-appointed guardian?
She knew the team of psychiatrists had been charged with checking her fitness for duty. Ensuring she wasn’t a sociopath or a psychopath before she was entrusted with additional skills and cut loose to kill on behalf of Queen and adopted country. But she was also aware while the multitude of tests they ran only confirmed she was bright and had an aptitude for languages and technology, they’d been frustrated by the lack of personal information she’d shared with them.
Jesslyn Coltrane could teach those long-forgotten psychiatrists a thing or two about how to get information from an unwilling subject, she thought wryly. For some unanticipated reason, she had been able to tap into Darien’s carefully guarded psyche with remarkable ease. The words had felt as if they had no choice but to spill out, and she had handed Jessie pieces of herself she’d never meant to share with anyone.
Perhaps her nightmare had left her vulnerable and susceptible to Jessie’s questions. All Darien knew was not since her mother’s death had she been able to talk like that with anyone, and she’d forgotten what it felt like to share.
But the aftermath of opening herself up lingered. She would have thought she would feel some sense of relief, but she didn’t. She felt drained. She feared she’d said too much. And the realization of just how badly she wanted to take some—or all—of it back threatened to bring her down.
At least for now, Jessie appeared to have no more questions left to ask. She’d called room service and ordered breakfast, then muttered something about a shower before she wandered off, correctly sensing Darien’s need to be alone.
But the sense of loss surprised her. Darien didn’t know what to make of it or what it meant. She only knew she was tired and in no shape to be reading anything into her own thought processes and emotions.
Still, her mind lingered on the moment just before Jessie had walked away. They’d stood so close and Darien had suddenly ached to taste her again. Something had passed between them, and she knew all she had to do was step forward. So she took a step back instead and let the moment pass. It was better that way.
Abandoning all thoughts and questions, she headed for her own shower, a marble and chrome extravagance with a double-headed shower and limitless hot water. When she was done, she dressed in jeans and a loose cotton shirt and tucked her SIG into the holster she clipped to the back of her jeans. That act in itself felt familiar, normal, and she felt better for it. Less a stranger in a strange land.
A quick glance in the mirror as she ran a brush through her hair revealed tired and faintly bloodshot eyes. Her head was still aching, but the swelling on her face had receded
and was all but gone, leaving only a bruise across one cheek. She wasn’t worried about that.
Of greater concern to her was the much larger bruise covering her ribs. The pain was bearable, but she knew it left her flexibility compromised. She tested her ability to strike with her fist, found it distinctly wanting. But she knew she’d experienced worse, just as she knew it would not be enough to prevent her from doing whatever was necessary should the need arise.
The knock at the hotel-room door jackhammered through her as she walked out of the bedroom. Her instincts immediately went into overdrive just as another knock was followed by a familiar voice calling out, “Room service.”
Darien relaxed, slipped her gun back into its holster, and opened the door. “I wondered when you’d get around to showing up.”
Ben smiled and pushed a loaded room-service cart into the room as he moved past her. Elle followed close behind, pausing long enough to close the door.
“Elle would have had us here last night when Jessie dropped the phone in the middle of their conversation. But I checked and was able to assure her everything was fine. GPS showed you were here, right where you were supposed to be, and your vital signs were coming through nice and clear, although your heart rate was up a bit.” Ben lightly skimmed the bruise on her face with one hand. “Now I see why Jessie asked for a doctor. Are you all right? How’s the head?”
Darien ignored the ever-present headache and responded with a dismissive shrug. “Unintended consequences, nothing more.”
“She’s got a mild concussion. She also needs to eat something, so it’s good you’ve brought the food with you,” Jessie said as she walked into the room, her hair still damp from her shower.
She looked good in jeans and a black turtleneck. Damn near edible, even. Darien licked her lips. “She keeps trying to mother me,” she muttered.
“Trust me, I don’t feel the least bit motherly toward you,” Jessie responded with a grin before turning to Ben. “Did I just hear you say you were able to track Darien’s vital signs?”
Darien’s breathing unraveled and she was left to stare at Jessie while Ben explained the tiny GPS-enhanced tracking device implanted in Darien’s hip. For her part, Jessie ignored her, focusing instead on removing the covers from heaping platters of food and placing them on the table.
Fearing her thoughts were visible on her face, Darien turned her attention to the food and forced herself to relax. Tried to ease the tension from her shoulders and neck, which was making her headache worse. She hadn’t been hungry until that moment, but the delightful aroma emanating from the table made her mouth water and her stomach sit up and beg as she approached for a closer look.
Automatically, she reached for the closest carafe and filled four cups, then quickly discovered the coffee was hot and strong and wonderful. It helped clear her head if not her headache, and for the next few minutes she allowed the conversation to flow around her while she concentrated on enjoying the abundance of fresh fruit and french toast smothered in maple syrup Jessie had ordered. Relishing the normalcy.
When she finally leaned back in her chair and released a satisfied sigh, she found Ben looking like he was trying not to laugh. “It’s good to see your appetite’s finally back. But are you sure you’ve had enough?”
Darien noticed the flicker of amusement in Jessie’s eyes as well. Shrugging, she grinned in response. “I didn’t realize I was so hungry. And to answer your question, yes, thanks. I’ve had more than enough.”
“Good. Jessie relayed the gist of what happened when she called looking for a doctor, but now would be a good time for you to bring Elle and me completely up to date. Where things stand with Yuri, and what comes next.”
Darien was aware of the moment his eyes focused on her bruised face. Looked deeper, seeing, she was sure, much more than she wanted to reveal.
“I know you need more time to recover,” Ben continued. “And I truly wish I could give it to you. But my every instinct is telling me the Guild’s not going to give us that time.”
She kept her gaze steady as she met his eyes. “I agree.” She began by relaying the conversation she’d had with Yuri at Oz, concluded with his agreement to facilitate a meeting with the Guild, and deliberately left out everything in between. Ben stared at her with eyes that saw entirely too much, but he didn’t mention the oversight.
Darien knew Ben was unhappy that she’d gotten back into the cage so soon after the last time. Nor did she believe she was hiding anything from him. The doctor would have already given him an update on her condition, and knowing they’d gone to Oz, he would have deduced how she got in that condition. She knew she’d hear about it sooner or later. She’d just as soon wait for later.
But Ben was a professional, and he would understand what she did even if he didn’t like the tactics she’d chosen. What was important was the result, and her bruises would heal and fade.
“Do you think Yuri will come through?” Ben asked.
Darien thought about that for a moment, then gave a dry smile. “Yuri doesn’t trust his own reflection in the mirror, but he has no real reason not to come through. It’s my guess, though, that he’s not particularly happy about it.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s not that he doesn’t want to help, especially because he thinks there’s money to be made and he wants to be part of the action. It’s more that he thinks this woman leading the Guild is—”
Elle released a strangled sound. “Wait a minute. Are you saying it’s a woman we’re after?”
Darien turned too quickly and tried not to wince. “Yes, and Yuri thinks she’s crazy, although considering his usual associates, I’m not sure what that means. But it doesn’t really matter. He’s a businessman, so he’ll arrange an introduction and do whatever is needed to ensure he gets a cut on any deal.”
“Damn,” Elle said. “It’s great that we’re finally getting somewhere, but I hate it that it’s a woman. I mean, I know it happens. I’ve been around enough to know women are often involved in carrying communications and money between terrorist cells. But this—for some reason I’m having a hard time accepting it.”
“What’s hard to accept?” Darien asked. “The concept of women as terrorist leaders isn’t new, Elle. Women have long been involved in terrorist movements and have been counted among the leaders in a number of organizations, including the Japanese Red Army, Italy’s Red Guild, Peru’s Shining Path, and Germany’s Red Army Faction.”
Jessie nodded in agreement. “Women have also been responsible for carrying out numerous bombings and deadly attacks. Take a look at Russia and the Black Widows suicide bombers. In fact, it’s believed more than half the suicide bombers in the world since 2002 have been women.” She passed Darien two tablets. “It’s just aspirin, but it’ll help with both the inflammation and your headache.”
“Thanks.” Aware of Ben’s eyes watching her every move, Darien quickly popped the tablets in her mouth and chased them down with the last of her coffee. When his cell phone buzzed softly, she was grateful for the distraction. A moment later, both Jessie and Elle reached for their own phones as they began to vibrate.
*
Jessie pressed the phone tightly against her ear and swore she could feel the tension coming through the satellite connection to Langley before she heard the deputy director’s taut, low voice on the other end. But once she did, try as she might, she found it difficult to swallow.
Oh God, oh God, oh God. Her vision blurred and her throat tightened as guilt cloaked her.
She had known from the start they were working to a tight timeline. The Guild had confirmed it in their original media communiqué, indicating they were just getting started and warning that their next move was imminent. And every threat analyst Jessie knew had arrived at the same conclusion. Escalation would come swiftly. They would need to work fast if there was any hope of stopping the Guild before that happened.
But her call had just made it perfectly clear. They were too late.
The next move had already been made.
She felt a knot of coldness deep within her. Maintaining a tight grip on the edge of the table, she ignored the pounding of her heart and struggled to put any personal feelings on hold while she listened. Just beyond the table, she could see Elle’s face had turned ghostly pale as she nodded and listened to someone—probably Adam—undoubtedly giving her the same news.
A quick glance farther into the room showed that Ben was no longer in her line of sight, but Darien seemed to be acting on some kind of prescient instinct. She had turned on the television and was quickly working her way through the available channels. And even though she’d left the television on mute, Jessie could see all the networks were carrying the same story.
The only problem with the live feed was that the images left nothing to the imagination. Still listening to her mother’s voice, Jessie watched smoke streaming from what had once been an upscale shopping mall. The aftermath of the explosion had left a gaping maw filled with rubble, smashed glass, and dangling wires. The feed managed to convey the silent screams of sirens as emergency vehicles converged on the scene, while the dazed and the injured were assisted from the wreckage of the building.
The information she was receiving from Grace indicated synchronized attacks had been carried out in three different countries. A shopping mall in Moscow. A courthouse in Ottawa. A school in Berlin. Simultaneous bomb blasts in three cities resulting in chaos, death, and destruction.
Jessie knew she had encountered worse in her career and would again as long as she stayed with the agency. But it would always be the loss of innocent lives, the children, that would tear her up. As she watched the images continue to unfold, all she could think was they never had a chance.
After she ended her call, she stared at the television no longer seeing the images, turning her head only when she felt Darien’s hand squeeze her shoulder and heard her murmur, “Are you all right?”
