But the most unbelievable part is that the woman before me is Mellie Hart.
She’s barely recognizable as the previous target I met at the sailing race. The entire right half of her face has been badly burned, and there are visible scars running up and down her arms. Instead of a summer outfit, she’s wearing all black in a dramatic fashion, complete with a veiled hat and leather boots. How could I not have realized she was still alive? Her body, like Lawrence Fisher’s, was never found.
“Hello, Lily,” says Mellie, smiling at me. “How are you enjoying Damien Fabre’s wedding?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” I hear myself ask.
She shrugs, as if unconcerned about what happened at the sailing race. “I assumed Jamison would try to kill me after he poisoned Zoe. We both knew I’d go to the media about what Ophidian was doing after I divorced Gallagher. When he refused to board the Claire, it was the only thing that made sense. I dove into the water during the explosion, and poor Lawrence Fisher died instead.” She shakes her head. “What a waste of a specimen of a man.”
“Jamie didn’t poison Zoe.” My lips feel numb. “You’re lying.”
“I have no reason to lie to you,” she says. “I’m the only person in your life who’s telling you the truth. My stepson is a very convincing actor, Lily. He’s more dangerous than any of us, and he’s simply trying to use you to take over Ophidian.” She gestures at the burned side of her face. “This is what the future would have held for you. I’m doing you a favor by ending it before it even starts.”
A policeman steps forward and hands a revolver to her. I watch in disbelief as she limps to her feet and takes aim at my head. Despite the fact that she was once friendly, any trace of warmth has completely disappeared from her scarred face.
Mellie Hart is turning out to be an evil stepmother after all.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say desperately. “I know you’re not a killer.”
“Unfortunately, that’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes flash with determination. “I arranged to have the private jet explode, the same way Jamie blew up the Claire. I arranged to have Damien poisoned with cyanide, the same way Jamie killed my dear Zoe. I tried to leave the Hart family, and I lost everything because of it. Justice will more than make up for the scarring and pain that I’ve suffered.”
My fingers tremble as I make myself covertly fit the silver hairpin into my handcuffs. If this is true, if Mellie Hart really blew up Jamie’s plane and poisoned Juliet’s target, then she’s definitely about to execute me in the penthouse of the Hotel Cygne de Paris. There are eight armed policemen in here, in addition to Mellie herself, and I can’t take them all on my own. The one with the handkerchief around his leg will be violently sick in a few minutes, but he won’t die. Even if I manage to obtain a gun, I’ll be shot in the head before I can make it to the elevator. A bulletproof corset won’t help with that. The only way I can survive this is if Alpha snipes everyone in the penthouse, but he has to do it before Mellie Hart pulls the trigger.
I don’t know if he can get to a vantage point in time.
“We’re on the same side,” I say, trying to keep her talking for as long as possible. “I was going to leave Jamie anyway. He’s way too obsessed with me, and I’m sick of hearing about aberrants all the time. I don’t want to be anywhere near him or Ophidian—”
“I’m impressed by your acting,” says Mellie, not missing a beat. “I really am. But the thing is, Jamison seems to sincerely care for you. After you managed to survive the plane explosion, I had to see for myself whether the love between you was genuine. And because it is, I can say with absolute confidence that I will have the utmost pleasure in personally taking you away from him. His future will no longer hold you or his sick vision of an aberrant world.” She tenses her finger slightly, preparing to shoot me. “Any last words?”
I know what I want to say.
This is messed up.
I hope you get what you deserve.
Screw you.
But I have to get close to the ground if I want Alpha to have a clear shot at Mellie Hart. It’s insanely risky to bet everything I have, including my own life, on the belief that my partner has prioritized keeping me safe over everything else. We never actually touched base again after I reached Paris, and for all I know he hasn’t been covering me at all. Even if he was, he might still be on the wrong side of the hotel. I could easily be on my own right now.
But isn’t this how it always is? On any mission we go on, there’s always the possibility that my partner will be overtaken or distracted, that he won’t be around to protect me when I need it the most.
I have no choice other than to trust that August will be there for me, the same way he has always been, ever since we were children.
Moving as slowly as possible, I kneel down on the tarp and bow my head, as if preparing to beg for my life. Please, August, I think fervently, as if I can actually will him to be looking through the scope of his sniper rifle. If I know you as well as I do, I know you’re going to do it. I know you’re going to keep me safe.
But the very real possibility I don’t want to admit to myself is that I’ll be dead within the next minute. Alpha might not have found another vantage point, and he already failed to snipe the hired assassins in the elevator, which doesn’t exactly make me feel confident that he’s been watching over me with his X-ray vision. What if this is the same thing that happened after I made out with Reese? What if August decided he didn’t want to be my partner anymore after seeing me with Jamie on the patrol boat?
What if I misinterpreted the coded symbol he sent me?
I feel as if I’m about to puke. My pulse is racing in my veins, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out no matter what happens next. I force myself to twist the silver hairpin in the handcuffs, preparing to fight for my life anyway, but I’m so screwed. The most I can hope for is taking out maybe half the enemies in the penthouse before I’m killed. Is Alpha ready with his sniper rifle or is he not? Is he still my partner or is he not? I can’t decide. I don’t want to decide.
“You really don’t have to do this,” I say, but my voice is shaking and it’s not an act at all.
Sighing, Mellie cocks the revolver and says, “Yes, I do—”
The first bullet pierces her forehead before she even finishes the sentence.
twenty-three
As if in slow motion, Mellie Hart falls through the air in front of me, the blood spraying out from the bullet hole in her head and across the tarp on the carpet. An entire window has shattered with the gunshot, which means Alpha must have seen what was happening and moved to a different vantage point facing this side of the hotel. He wouldn’t have had much time to get there.
It must have been the race of his life.
The hired assassins are pulling out their guns, looking around for the sniper, but he’s nowhere in sight. One by one, they jerk back and crumple to the ground, their bodies falling around me where I’m kneeling with my head still bowed.
When I look up again, they’re all dead. Every last one.
August saved me.
For a few seconds I remain motionless on the bloodied tarp, my limbs paralyzed with relief. I’m almost afraid to get back up to my feet, and I can’t believe I haven’t been injured at all. But I can’t let myself fall apart like this. Alpha is still covering me, expecting me to meet with Romeo at midnight.
If I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late.
I discard the handcuffs and crawl over to Mellie Hart’s body, pulling the revolver from her grasp and concealing it in the back of my corset. I can just imagine Alpha shaking his head, wanting to tell me that it’s a bad idea to carry a weapon around the streets of Paris, but I don’t care. I’m not going to give anyone another chance to kill me.
Somehow I manage to stumble into the elevator and descend to the lobby without puking, and then I’m pushing through a set of glass revolving doors and into the street, breathing in the nightt
ime Parisian air. But as I start in the direction of the Victor Hugo statue, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a shop window. Shit. My hair is beyond tangled, and my eyes are desperate, and there are bruises on my bare arms from the fight in the elevator. A lot more blood has splattered onto my dress than I realized. It must look as if I’ve been in some kind of attack or accident.
But there isn’t time to stop and fix my appearance. I don’t know if I even have the presence of mind to slow down. My heart is still pounding from what happened up in the penthouse, and I’m basically moving on autopilot at this point. I could have died, easily. I was seconds away from being shot by Mellie Hart or the policemen. If Alpha hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t been watching over me with his X-ray vision, if he’d missed...
But he didn’t. And he never would.
I walk through the Parisian streets as casually as possible, trying to stay in the shadows as much as I can. There are more French policemen in the area than I expected, and I look disheveled enough that it might attract their attention. But I force myself to keep moving steadily without making eye contact, avoiding the glowing streetlights and wandering tourists, running through cover story after cover story in my mind in case I’m stopped by anyone.
Finally, as a nearby clock tower strikes midnight, I arrive at the Victor Hugo statue, my chest aching, the revolver digging into my back. If Romeo isn’t here, I don’t know what I’ll do...
But there he is, waiting underneath a tree, his face shadowed by a beret. He’s watching me with a neutral expression, as if he doesn’t know me at all. As if he never touched me as we stood in a safe house, kissing passionately, our bodies entirely too close together.
“Wasn’t sure if you’d show, Eliza,” he says, when I reach him.
I shrug. “You know how it goes.” It’s hard enough to focus on staying calm right now, much less manage to produce socially competent conversation.
“What’s wrong?” Reese asks, his gaze sharpening on the blood on my dress.
“Mellie Hart just tried to kill me,” I say, my voice dropping harshly.
He actually looks shocked, his cool slipping for the first time. “She’s still alive?”
“Not anymore,” I say. “Apparently she survived the explosion by jumping overboard. But she thought Jamison Hart poisoned Zoe Evano and blew up the yacht, so she was going to kill me as some kind of revenge. Alpha sniped her before she could pull the trigger.”
Reese considers me for a long moment. Finally, he says, “She was right about Zoe.”
I stare at him, but he isn’t smirking at all. “What?”
“I didn’t kill Zoe Evano,” he says. “I had no idea what you were on about that night at the mansion. I was there to kill Mellie Hart, but she didn’t show. I figured you poisoned Zoe and were winding me up to maintain your cover. After Alpha told me you weren’t to know about Mongoose, I just assumed you were to be kept in the dark about everything else as well.”
I collapse against the tree trunk next to him, drawing a hand across my eyes tiredly. Could Jamie really have poisoned someone just before he ran into me at the Woodland Castle? Yes. He could have, if he used the secret corridor and had a flask filled with cyanide. It would explain why he decided to have everyone play Sardines. Instead of hiding in the library, he was trying to isolate Zoe Evano to share a poisoned drink with her. The entire reason we went back to that closet was so I could confirm his alibi.
“Jamie’s taking me to Ophidian,” I say finally. “I’ll be able to find the manifest while I’m there. He already knew I was with the Executive, but I convinced him that I was defecting to his side.”
“That’s a dangerous move.” Reese glances sideways at me. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
I shake my head. “It looks like I’m going to have to.”
He’s silent for a moment, then nods. “The reason I wanted to meet was to warn you that a mole in Mongoose is working against us. Before he died, Kilo told me it was someone close to you. He didn’t know who it was, but they’ve already given a lot of information about you to Gallagher Hart. I had to use the dead man’s switch because they would’ve seen any message I sent you. I couldn’t risk telling Alpha and having him pull you from the mission.”
“And how do I know you didn’t kill Kilo?” I ask.
Reese spreads his hands. “Would I be here if I did? Someone in Mongoose is going to tell you to trust them, Eliza, and you’re going to die if you do.”
But I’m distracted by a pair of policemen walking in our direction. They’re about to pass right by the Victor Hugo statue. Romeo has noticed as well, and he’s already leaning over me so that his body is obscuring my bloodstained dress, his arm supporting his weight against the tree trunk above my head. I stare up into his gray eyes, my arms somehow locked around his waist without my realizing it. Our faces are mere inches apart, as if we’re just another couple about to kiss in the romantic Parisian night. But his face is completely open, leaving everything written plainly in his expression, and I can see what he’s thinking right now.
I risked everything to come here, Eliza.
I’m trying to save innocent lives, including yours.
As innocent as people like us can be, anyway.
“So tell me why you aren’t the mole,” I say, hating how breathless I sound. “You’re asking me to trust you, aren’t you?”
Reese smirks slightly, suddenly seeming like his normal self again. “Because we both know you’d never trust me anyway.”
And then he leans down and kisses me on the lips, gently enough that I’m caught by surprise. I find myself kissing back instinctively, sinking into the familiar sensation, clinging to the reprise of what happened between us in the safe house.
He presses harder, then, and harder and harder, and it’s like all the desperation that’s been inside of me comes pouring out of me into his kiss. I need to be touched right now, to feel the warmth of physical contact, to remember what it’s like to be human. Our tongues battle as if for the right to claim the other’s heart, as if either of us would ever want or know what to do with it. This is something that both of us accept can only ever be temporary. Every time will always feel like the last time, filled with despair and anguish, and it very well might be. It no longer matters if we’re only drawn to each other because of what we are. Even the knowledge that Reese is definitely going to bite me at some point, injecting venom into my bloodstream, isn’t enough to make me pull away. I can’t process anything other than losing myself in this kiss. Not the fact that August might show up at any second and see me making out with Reese again. Not the fact that this is the very situation Query warned me about in the comic book. And certainly not the fact that Reese’s fingers are tangled in my hair, tilting my face closer to his, making me gasp against his mouth.
I almost died in that penthouse. A previous target who should have been dead stood over me as I knelt on the ground before her, and she pointed a revolver straight at my head. Mellie Hart fully intended to kill me. I had no route of escape, and that was the end for me. It was going to be the end, until August saved me.
God, I want to puke.
As the pair of policemen walks past us, a two-way radio crackles in the air. Someone is speaking in French on the other end: Suspect with sniper rifle seen climbing onto Arc de Triomphe. Arrested after standoff with police. Nine bullet shells found. Nearby area being searched for victims. No sign of blood or injuries yet...
August. They’re talking about August.
I break away from Romeo and fight for air, my chest feeling as if it’s about to implode. Alpha knew he had to get to a different vantage point, but there wasn’t enough time for him to hide his sniper rifle. He was seen as he was, intent on killing and armed with a deadly weapon. He could have failed to reach a vantage point. He could have been shot by the police.
He could have died because of me.
“I’ll deal with this.” Reese presses a handful of euros into my palm. “Take a taxi
to your embassy. That’s where Jamison Hart will think to look for you. Uncle and I will pick up Alpha and extract you from Ophidian when you’re ready.”
“But I can’t trust you,” I say helplessly.
It should be me. I should be the one going to save my partner, to attempt to do for him even a miniscule amount of what he just did for me. If I could, I’d storm the police station and rescue him right now, no matter the cost.
But I’m not thinking rationally, am I? Alpha would want me to close the mission and retrieve the manifest. He’d want everything to keep going as planned. It’s not like anything bad is going to happen to him either way, other than a few hours in jail. But I still don’t know if I can trust Romeo. What if he’s the one betraying Mongoose?
Noticing my hesitation, he says, “Alpha pulled me aside after I was assigned to work with you. He said that if there was ever any situation in which I needed you to believe me, in which he was otherwise incapacitated, that there was one thing I should say to you.”
I almost laugh. There’s nothing Reese could possibly say right now to convince me that August trusts him this much. But then he leans forward, his breath tickling my ear, and says the one thing that ever could.
See you later, Alpha-gator.
twenty-four
Ophidian’s top-secret facility is located on a small island in the Atlantic Ocean. Based on the files I memorized to prepare for this very situation, I already knew it would be heavily guarded and surrounded by an electric fence. But I wasn’t prepared for how much it would simultaneously resemble an art museum and a prison. From up in Jamie’s helicopter, Ophidian looks like an array of modern sculptures beneath the moonlight. The facility consists of a number of windowless buildings that cover most of the island, their dim lights glittering above the waves crashing against the rocky shore.
Code Name Echo Page 14
