by Gennita Low
Her eyes ran down the rows of files. Names…familiar names, some American, some Russian. Gunther the Geek had collected quite a bit of information. Her name was there too.
Van Duren. What did the man have on her? Impulsively, she moved the cursor over her name and clicked.
Photos of her. Famous cases tied to her with question marks that Gunther had noted down. Greta smiled. Of course, no one would ever know which of those had been her doing; that was the sign of a great operative. Gunther had been trying to figure out what was truth and what was legend.
She read on. Disappearance? Possible death?
“Reassignment, you stupid man,” she said. These must be notes he’d made before he’d found out she had been moved from assassin duty to undercover as a secretary in the CIA.
A picture of her after she’d gone through training, just before she’d relocated to the States. Damn, she didn’t remember the plastic surgery to change her eyes. No wonder she’d always hated the way her eyes looked. She had—
Greta’s hand went to her mouth. She had…screamed and fought against having her face changed. She was an assassin. How dare they want her to undergo training to learn how to fucking type! She was not getting too old to seduce and kill! She certainly was not growing old in some stupid behind-the-desk job moving information! That wasn’t her at all! She—
Her hand shook as she reached out and clicked on another date. That was the day she’d officially been taken off duty. She recalled how she’d screamed at the deputy in charge—
The needle—
Ich will dies nicht! Ich will dies nicht!
The file took a moment to open up. Gunther’s notes on top: What are these? Greta stared at the graphics that followed. Rows and rows of familiar patterns.
“Reading something interesting?”
Greta looked up, startled. She hadn’t heard anything. Talia stood at the doorway, looking at her casually. Way too casually.
“Did you know about my file here?” Greta asked calmly. I don’t want this! The screams rang in her head over and over. She covered the weapon on her lap with one hand.
Talia walked toward her. “Really? A file about you?”
Greta moved the weapon beside her. “Yes,” she said. Her attention went back to the screen. She needed time to digest this. Talia must never know….
“Does it show strange images that remind you of those knitting patterns you’re so fond of? Maybe the afghan and shawls you’ve knitted over and over?” Talia asked, her voice strangely serene, her dark eyes watchful.
“You…know?” Greta had to force herself to stop looking at the pattern. It was so beautiful to look at.
“Level Five hypnotic state is the hardest to come out of, Greta. Years and years of hypnotizing your own self with the same message. The Russian way has always been a little crueler than the American way, don’t you agree? They programmed you to program yourself and you spent ten years being what you’d vowed to them you’d never be. That pattern you’re looking at is the release, just like Llallana Noretski has her own release.”
“You’re lying!” Greta returned her gaze to the screen. She moved the cursor down. “You’re lying!”
“You didn’t like family, Greta, never had. You left your German family to go to the Soviet Union way back then, don’t you remember? You don’t remember your nieces and relatives. That’s why you accepted anything I said about your past with me—you can’t remember.”
“Gunther—”
“He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t quite figured it out yet, but he would have, eventually. But too late for him, he can’t do anything about it now,” Talia said. She took a few steps closer. Her voice was gentle. “They’ve prepared you to go home in the grandest manner, a final big assignment for one of their best. Wasn’t that what you kept telling yourself? Do you really think there is a dacha waiting for you? Or are they going to take you away, give you another face, reprogram you, and stick you behind a desk for the rest of your life?”
“No!” Greta realized she had to destroy all evidence, as well as Talia. No one must know this. No one! Her eyes were drawn back unwillingly to the screen, and she had to move the cursor further. She needed to see that pattern…so beautiful…it’d be perfect for a rainbow afghan, one to decorate the living room in the dac…no!
She was seeing scenes in her head that made no sense and explained too well. A screaming, fighting session. The needle. I hate typing! Ich will dies nicht! She heard herself yelling. There was a fleeting second when she caught an image of herself being distracted by someone screaming….
“Look at the screen! Zahlen Sie Aufmerksamkeit!” a voice had reprimanded sharply.
She’d returned to her knitting, following a pattern on a huge screen. Then they’d put some earphones over her ears….
Greta screamed, pushing the computer off the table, pulling up her weapon. Talia lunged forward and locked her arm, directing it upwards, and Greta’s shot went harmlessly into the ceiling.
She was an assassin. She knew how to kill…she turned sideways and viciously elbowed into Talia’s stomach. Talia released her hand that was still holding the weapon.
Triumph went through Greta. She pointed her gun. Talia kicked, and Greta lost her grasp. The weapon fell to the floor.
“I’ll go back and show you it’s a lie!” Greta screamed, shaking her hand in pain.
She fought like she hadn’t fought for years now, countering moves like she used to. She swung at her opponent, connecting hard. She gasped when she received a painful fist in her stomach. Staggering back, she grabbed the chair. Her niece dodged and the chair hit a corner of the table. Screaming and cursing, she smashed the remaining broken leg against Talia’s defending arm and it broke into half. She threw it away in disgust.
Talia was fast, but Greta was Greta Van Duren. She’d once been the best assassin and her muscle memory was still there, even though she was older…. She cried out in anguish at her lost skills as Talia found an opening and made contact, a merciless uppercut against her jaw. She fell hard on her back, rolled, got up a second too slow, and received another kick that sent her flying backward. Nausea and dizziness. She lay there, panting.
“We can work to give you back your past if you’ll answer some questions,” Talia said. “We want to know what you’ve done at the CIA, that’s all.”
That’s all? Greta laughed. She’d given ten years of her life and they’d reduced her to this…she saw the weapon on the floor. Rolled. Grabbed. She would not be bested. She was Greta Van…
A shot rang out.
“Duren,” Greta finished as she crumpled to the carpet. Her hand went to her chest. Blood, lots of blood. She coughed and tasted blood.
Someone kicked the weapon away. Greta looked up at Talia. Their eyes met for a long second. Then Talia turned away.
Voices…far away.
“You’ve killed her.”
“She would have shot you.”
Greta strained her ears. That wasn’t Gunth talking. She was dying. She could feel her heartbeat slowing. She must…see…who…had finally gotten…her. She angled her head.
“What are you doing here, Alex?” she heard Talia ask.
She watched, her eyesight dimming, as a tall blond man in a black body suit came into view to stand in front of Talia. Not Gunther at all. Gunth was not this good looking. Greta coughed out a laugh and choked on her blood, her breath rattling as she tried to escape the encroaching darkness. How dare they pay her scant attention! She reached out, her fingers curling inches from the weapon.
“You and I have unfinished business, Tess,” the man said, reaching for Talia.
The world went black.
CHAPTER 21
Six weeks later
Lily would be lying if she said the past month and a half had been easy. There was nothing easy about being put into seclusion and treated like a lab animal. That was how she felt being led from room to room by people wearing crisply ironed lab coats and being subjected
to tests and questions and then more tests.
It was necessary. She didn’t like being prodded and tested, but she’d found out a lot more about her “condition.” To her relief, there was nothing implanted in her brain, like some of the manuals had suggested. She didn’t know if she could live with the knowledge of a chip in her head.
Her anchor was Reed. The only reassurance she wasn’t going to be kept this way forever were his visits. He came to her twice a week, giving her strength, making sure she was all right. Without him, she would have been lost. Without him, she would have run from these people.
Among these new people, she had become friends with Nikki Harden, who had privately shared with her her own horrific experiences. Lily suspected she was one of a privileged few who knew all the details. The woman had gone through so much, and yet here she was, a happily married woman.
“Almost normal,” Nikki had told her, with a wry smile, “although my husband’s still learning new things about me.”
Husband. That word had never been in Lily’s thoughts before, never been considered part of her vocabulary. It signified a normalcy that she couldn’t imagine for herself. She told Nikki so.
“Baby steps,” Nikki advised. “I rejected the idea of a husband, or someone who would actually want me, for ten years. You know what I’ve learned?”
Lily watched curiously as Nikki opened her powder compact and handed it to her. At Nikki’s prompting, Lily peered into the mirror.
“Check my makeup every day?” she suggested dryly, arching her eyebrows in mockery. She made a face at herself.
Nikki laughed. “No. What you see in the mirror isn’t what people see. I’ve learned to look at myself through other people’s eyes,” she said. Lily looked at her, noting the darkening emotions in the other woman’s eyes. “Especially my husband’s. There’s nothing like a man’s true love reflecting your image in his eyes, Lily.”
How beautiful to know that. Lily closed the compact and gave it back to Nikki. “You’ve obviously never been a Wretched Wench,” she said, grinning. She always felt relaxed enough around Nikki to joke with her. “Ask Amber what that is.”
“A Wretched Wench?” Nikki repeated, amused. “You’re going to keep me hanging till I see her? Can’t you tell me now?”
Lily nodded to Reed standing at the door. “Not when he’s around. Some things we women have to keep from them.”
“Damn, and I’m interested in the subject of wretched wenches,” Reed said, walking into the room. He had a pleased look on his face. “This is the first time I’ve shown up and not seen both of you in deep discussion. It’s good to see you laughing, sweets.”
Lily shrugged, a small smile on her face. She still didn’t trust this place, Command Center, or ComCen, as they called it. Even when the doctors explained to her the exact procedure of the test they would be conducting, she didn’t trust them. After all, she’d learned a lot about hypnotic levels in those manuals they’d given her to read in her spare time. She was a Level Three—they thought. That meant she could go under two more levels and not even know it.
She looked at Reed. She’d learned his sharp gray eyes never missed anything. Even though he didn’t often tell her everything he saw, she knew he was the one who’d suggested bringing in people she’d once trusted. Talking with them, she could reconnect with her “old” self, as well as know she wasn’t being manipulated.
Or, at least, that was the theory. She was still afraid sometimes that everything around her would go poof. Good things never lasted, right?
“I’ll see you both at the wedding,” Nikki said, taking her leave. “Good luck, Lily.”
Lily thought of her visitors. Talking with Amber had been easier than she’d imagined. They’d even brought in Tatiana. Knowing she was all right had released a lot of tension inside Lily. She’d wondered what had happened to her girls. Tatiana was adjusting easier than she herself was, which was pretty amazing, when she remembered how the girl had been so broken she’d sat in her room staring silently at a closed window for weeks.
Lily couldn’t believe Reed had used his own money to help most of the girls who hadn’t wanted any help from GEM or any authorities. After their experiences with UN peacekeepers, they weren’t going to trust any agency that easily. Lily was glad. Selfishly, she didn’t want them to be dependent on any group of people. Again, Reed had understood her better than anyone else. His generosity and quiet strength calmed her worries. He was as solid as a rock. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand what he saw in her.
Talking to Tatiana gave Lily hope. She pursed her lips. Today would be a little harder.
“Ready?” Reed asked.
“Yes.” No. She didn’t want to do this. It was going to be one of the most difficult things she would ever do.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes calm and assessing.
“Standing and ready, sir!” she mocked, covering her fears.
His smile lit up his usually serious face. “I see you’ve taken a liking to that line, ma’am.”
“Oh, yes, indeed, Joker.” Ever since she’d found out that was what his teammates called him, she’d had fun teasing him about it. She enjoyed secretly knowing the real Reed had his own sense of humor he shared only with her.
He offered her his hand. “I’ll be on the other side of the door,” he told her.
“I’ll be okay,” she assured him.
“Nevertheless, I’ll be there,” he said firmly.
The walk to the solarium was quiet. One hand on the heavy door, she gave Reed a quick smile, knowing he wanted to be with her, that he didn’t want her to do this without him. But it wouldn’t be the right thing to do.
“I can do this,” she told him. She took a deep breath and entered.
Bradford Sun turned around from the artificial waterfall by the rock pool and studied Lily silently as she made her way to him. He carried his jacket in front of him. It was warm in the solarium, very different from the rainy weather outside, and one of the few places in the Center she actually liked. Her heart sank at the sight of his drawn face. He was looking thinner, and there was a hardness about him she hadn’t seen before.
“Hello, Lily.” His voice was still that soothing diplomatic tone that had always irritated and attracted her. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
She stopped a few feet in front of him. “Hello, Brad.”
A heavy silence fell between them as they stared at each other. The last time she had seen him, he’d been unconscious. They had been lovers, and, afterwards, she’d received one of those phone calls that had turned her head inside out. It’d made her believe everyone was using her and her girls, that everyone would betray her if she didn’t follow instructions. She’d taken a hypodermic needle out of her purse and…
She swallowed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Not in that way.”
His smile was slightly bitter. “You did call emergency just in time. As you can see, I survived.”
“And you saved me in the end too,” she said, her gaze direct, even though she felt like a heel. “You called me and provided the release code. Why? I wouldn’t have done it if it’d been the other way round.”
“You were going to decimate a whole summit with some kind of explosive device, remember? I couldn’t allow that to happen.” He released a sigh. “It’s been difficult letting you go, Lily. I know, from my own sources, you’ve started a new life, that you’re with someone else now.”
She looked away for a second, then glanced back. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I was an angry woman who only acted on emotions. I don’t know how to explain it, not even now, but, yes, I was attracted to you and, yes, I acted on that attraction. But I never fell in love with you. Never loved you.” Her voice softened at the haunted look in his eyes. “Brad, nothing I say will ever, ever earn me forgiveness. I’m not here to ask it, but I do want to look you in the eye and tell you I’m ashamed of what I’ve done and that I’ll always carry the cross of what I did to you and Amb
er.”
Brad kept quiet for a few seconds. “Still the same Lily, though,” he finally murmured. “Still charging ahead as if it’s you against the world. No one is after you now, Lily. Not even me. I came here for closure because I had to see this woman I fell for, to see whether I really was that stupid and blind.”
Lily winced. “You weren’t stupid or blind.”
“I feel it. And even more stupidly, I still want you.” Moving closer, he shifted the jacket, freeing a hand from under the folds. He reached behind her, pulling her to him.
He didn’t hold her, but Lily didn’t turn away from his kiss. She realized she didn’t want to touch him because she was afraid she might still feel something. His touch was firm but gentle, not angry like she’d expected.
And she felt nothing but compassion.
He stepped away, his expression unreadable. “Was any of it real?” he asked. “Was it all manipulated?”
“No, it wasn’t all manipulated,” she said. “But—”
“But it’s too late for both of us.”
“Yes.” They could never go back to those days. Besides, she wouldn’t fit into his world. She would still have avoided him after their time together, she was sure of it. She hadn’t wanted any kind of relationship with a diplomat. “I wish you only the best, Brad. Thank you for saving me.”
He laughed, a rough sound devoid of amusement. “Good-bye, Lily,” he said quietly. “Go.”
Her eyes met his for another long moment. She didn’t think she would see Bradford Sun again, but she refused to say good-bye. Someday she would make amends, even if she had to do it without his knowing it.
