Assassin Games

by Sidney Bristol

  Irene, Mitch, Hector—all people she’d trusted were on the final list.

  It wasn’t comforting knowledge.

  There must be a missing piece. Something that so perfectly hid the mole’s movements that it was invisible to even the data crunching, logical path of association.

  Where the hell was Andy?

  She needed to speak with him, but this was the plan.

  They’d split up, go radio silent, and hide while the danger passed. The intent was to allow Carol to crunch the data Andy stole from the facility, but the way Carol was looking at it now, there wasn’t time. Someone they knew—someone they trusted—was involved.

  The chime on the front door to the suite sounded in the too-empty office.

  “Camie, hey.” Lillian pushed to her feet and quickstepped around her desk. She’d changed from her workout clothes to her power suit. She stepped into the hall and paused. “Oh… Hello.”

  “Lillian Matthews?” a familiar voice said.

  “Irene?” Carol bolted for the door, pushing past Lillian.

  Carol had never been so happy to see Irene in her entire life. She flung herself into the woman’s arms, squeezing her with everything she had.

  “We don’t have much time.” Irene gave her a tight squeeze. “They’ll be monitoring everything and that wasn’t a hard clue to figure out.”

  Carol stepped back and sucked down a deep breath.

  “Irene, Lillian. Lillian, Irene. For the moment, I’ve retained the Matthews’ services, but that might not last long.”

  “Then let’s get down to it. They have Mitch.” Irene drew herself up, as though saying those three words took all her strength.

  “Are you sure?” Carol swallowed.

  “SPS took him into custody and now no one knows—or cares—where he is.”

  “I’m sorry—who?” Lillian asked. “This way into the conference room.”

  “We should move.” Irene didn’t budge.

  “We’re most at risk when we’re moving,” Carol said, repeating Andy’s words.

  Irene’s face creased, the concern written in every fiber of her body.

  “No one is getting through these doors unless we want them.” Jesse stepped into the open doorway from his cave. “There’s a security door we can slide over, and there’s a secondary exit we don’t freely admit to since it’s not up to code.”

  “Jesse…” Lillian stared at him.

  “All right. Conference room.” Irene nodded. The fear and concern seemed to melt off her, and she was once more the battle-hardened agent Carol knew and loved. “We’ve got a lot to say.”

  “This way.” Lillian led them into a spacious room with a long table and sofa.

  “You need to decide how much you want to hear right now.” Irene paused in Lillian’s path, staring her down. “Our lives are on the line, and how much you know could determine who wants you dead.”

  Lillian’s lips moved, but no sound came out.

  “We’re the Matthews Corporation.” Jesse blocked the door, hands in his pockets. “We don’t back down from anything once we’ve put our name on it.”

  The door banged open, the noise drowning out the beep.

  Jesse moved first, drawing a gun Carol hadn’t seen and turning to face the threat.

  “Irene!” a man’s ragged voice called out.

  Carol whirled, but the walls were solid concrete. There was no way out. They were trapped. And someone had already tracked Irene in the span of a few minutes.

  “Stand down. He’s one of ours,” Irene snapped and shouldered past Jesse. “Noah? How the hell did you find me?”

  “Noah?” Carol started. She’d heard of him, but had never met—or seen—the contractor herself. Andy sure had a few words to say about him.

  Her heart twinged and her eyes prickled. She could feel the anxiety rising. The longer she was without Andy, the worse it was getting.

  “Who the hell is Noah?” Lillian threw her hands up.

  Carol sucked down a deep breath and braced her hand on the chair closest to her, memories like photographs flickering through her mind.

  Jesse disappeared down the hall. The door slammed shut a few moments later.

  Carol began a slow count to ten. This was not the moment to have a panic attack or a breakdown. That was a luxury they didn’t have time for. She had to think. What would Andy do?

  Ten…

  “I brought you a friend, Irene.” Noah backed into the conference room, dragging a bloodied, mangled man. “I’ve been following you for blocks. You never slowed down enough for me to wave.”

  Nine…

  “Oh my God.” Lillian backed up a step.

  “Oh hello, precious.” Noah dropped his grip on the man and turned toward Lillian, giving her a little bow. His cavalier smile evaporated when he saw Irene—and Carol. “I should have fucking known. What the hell did Andy get into?”

  “Who is this?” Irene approached the unconscious man.

  Carol cringed. There was something about the nose…

  She got up and took a few steps closer, peered at the man’s face. His chest rose and fell, the sound of his breathing rattling in his chest.

  “I recognize him,” she said.

  “You do?” Noah peered at her.

  “Yes, he and a woman. They tried to kill us.”

  “Okay, I know you said you thought you’d die in the week, but…Carol.” Lillian turned to face her, all the color leached out of her skin.

  “People have been trying to kill me for two weeks. I’m sorry. What do you want me to say?” Carol was at the end of her rope. Where had she been? Oh right, eight.

  “His name is Tate. He’s a contractor.” Irene glanced up at Noah. “Like you.”

  “Shit,” Noah muttered. “Is anyone going to tell me what Andy is into?”

  “Where is Andy?” Irene turned toward Carol.

  “I don’t know. That’s what I was going to tell you.” Carol sat in the closest chair to avoid collapsing. Seven…

  “From the beginning then—what happened?” Irene dismissed the unconscious form of Tate bleeding on the floor and focused everything on Carol.

  She stared at Irene, and the tears welled up. No amount of counting or deep breaths could keep them down. She grabbed a napkin and swiped at her cheeks. The time for tears wasn’t now. If there was anything to be done for Andy, it had to happen fast.

  Carol composed herself as much as possible before beginning. Sinking her mind into the details, the facts, helped a little. Each one was tinged with an Andy memory. She left out the private moments, the glimpses she had of the man under the killer, and did her best to stick to the highlights, but toward the end she choked up. This part she hadn’t told Lillian, because it was best not to. But Irene needed to know all of it.

  “Andy sent this fuck-face at me.” Noah kicked the downed man. “They have him.”

  “And they are a lot bigger, and older, than we thought,” Irene said.

  “What do you mean?” Carol fisted her hands, terrified of the answer. She’d guessed that Andy was in trouble. Everything at the CIA remote site felt…wrong. That woman shouldn’t have been there.

  “I mean”—Irene drew in a deep breath as though preparing herself—“the CIA has known they have a leak for almost a decade. But these people? They’re embedded deep. They have hooks in people everywhere, and ripping them out would destroy the whole company.”

  “Th-then what do we do?” Carol stared at Irene, afraid of the answer.

  “We fucking burn our houses to the ground and get out of Dodge, that’s what we do.” Noah paced the length of the room, a caged animal ready to lash out.

  Lillian sat in a chair while Jesse watched them all, offering no input.

  “How did you find out? Who told you?” Carol asked.

  “I can’t tell you. It’s safer that way.”

  “Other people know.” Carol gripped the edge of her seat and leaned forward. “My friend—Jan? He’s aware we have
a leak. A substantial one. If he knows, then others do, too. We can’t do nothing.”

  “No, we can’t, but we have to be careful, and assume that they have”—Irene took a deep breath, as though steeling herself against her next words—“Andy and Mitch.”

  Carol nodded, her heart aching.

  “What the fuck do you think we can do then? Huh?” Noah paused over the man. “Damn it, I think he just died on us.”

  “What?” Lillian gaped at the body and the pool of growing blood on the floor.

  “Will you stop it with the screeching?” Noah bent and pressed his finger to the man’s pulse.

  “You just said he’s dead!”

  “That’s what happens when you pump a body full of bullets.” Noah wiped his fingers on the man’s jacket and stood. “I was hoping we’d get a few answers out of him. Okay, what next?”

  Some part of Carol felt guilty for dragging Lillian into this. After all, a week ago that would have been her. Now, she saw the bigger picture, and that terrified her.

  A digital chime sounded.

  Jesse started and pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen.

  “Camilla is here and wants to know why the security door is locked.” He glanced up. “Prepare yourselves. And put him out of sight, will you?”

  “Fine.” Noah grasped Tate under the arms and dragged him across the conference room to a partially obscured corner. A long trail of dark liquid pointed the way.

  “I’ll get a mop.” Lillian held her arms tight around herself and stalked out of the room.

  Irene turned toward Carol, her gaze searching her face.

  “I need to talk to you alone,” Irene whispered. “If we have to go, we split. You take my car. Meet me by the river at that one place, okay?”

  “I’m not as fragile as you think I am.” Before Andy, Carol was that weak. But now, she was a bit stronger because of him.

  “Making plans without me, huh?” Noah asked.

  “I didn’t think you wanted to be involved,” Carol said.

  “These assholes attacked my home. I had to scrap my whole setup. Do you know how long it takes to set up a secure site like that?” Noah scowled at the corner. “What are we doing?”

  Lillian stopped in the doorway, mop in hand, staring at the blood.

  Voices filled the hallway.

  Their time was running out.

  “Give me that.” Noah snatched the all-in-one mop from Lillian’s hand and went to work disguising the evidence.

  “Lily, what have you done?” Camilla’s cool voice resounded through the suite. It was that voice filling courtrooms, trying high-profile cases right out of law school that had gained Camilla Matthews a reputation the family business only strengthened.

  “Morning, Camie.” Lillian smiled and stepped out of sight, hopefully blocking the hall for a minute.

  Noah worked fast, almost as if he’d done this before.

  “What are our chances here?” Irene turned to face the door.

  “If I were giving probability numbers? You wouldn’t want to know.” Carol swallowed and straightened her back, staring at the door.

  Camilla’s heels clicked to a stop.

  “Move,” she said.

  “Camie, can we talk first, please?” Lillian asked.

  “I said, move.”

  Lillian sighed. A moment later Camilla Matthews rounded the door. Her dark-brown hair was teased and curled. Her dark suit was subdued, tailored, and conveyed a sense of authority.

  “CIA, I’m guessing.” She looked Irene, then Noah, up and down, ignoring Carol. “Whatever it is, our plate is full right now. I don’t want any part of this.”

  “We already signed a contract,” Lillian said.

  “You what?” Camilla whirled on her sister.

  Carol cringed. She knew how long it’d taken Lillian to find her footing once she was outside her sister’s shadow.

  “Camie, please, just listen.” Lillian held up a hand, her tone patient but pleading.

  “I say yes.” Jesse’s voice silenced both sisters for a moment.

  Carol held her breath.

  “This is not a democracy. It’s a benevolent dictatorship, and I’m the one in charge.” Camilla turned to face them. “Whatever you’re involved in is too much for us to handle right now, and since there’s a dead body in the corner, it’s too dangerous, too.”

  “Damn it.” Noah sighed like a kid caught sneaking cookies, not a man hiding a dead person.

  “I say no—and I want all three of you gone. Understand?” Camilla stared at Carol, the steel wall fully erect. There would be no arguing with her.

  The front door banged open again, the beep drowned out by the collective groan of Camilla and Lillian.

  “What now?” Camilla sighed.

  A woman rounded the door flanked by a man.

  A woman Carol would know anywhere.

  “Mom? What are you doing here?” Carol stared, her jaw going slack. All the emotion she’d pushed down deep bubbled up.

  And then she glanced at him.

  The man behind Mom.

  Carol’s blood went cold and she gripped the back of a chair.

  The man could be her father, minus thirty or so years and still alive.

  “I don’t care who you are—I want all of you, and the body, gone in half an hour.” Camilla stalked out of the conference room and across the hall to her office.

  “Hello, Carol.” Jennifer Sark’s face creased, as though she were in pain.

  “W-what’s going on? Who are you? Why are you here?” Carol stared at the man who had an all too familiar face.

  “I needed to talk to you,” Jennifer Sark said.

  “We need to move. Talk later,” Irene said. “Someone is bound to follow one of us here.”

  “Where are you going to go?” Jesse leaned against the door, blocking the only exit. “Every one of you is wanted dead by someone, I’m guessing. You step foot out that door and you’re a target.”

  “What do you suggest?” Irene asked.

  “Stay put.” Jesse pushed off the door and turned down the hall.

  “I’ll…go talk to Camie.” Lillian ducked out and into her sister’s office, leaving them relatively alone.

  In the span of ten minutes this whole situation had gone from somewhat-under-control to who-the-fuck-knew? Her mother was there with a man who looked like her father. Noah was ready to torch the town. Irene knew more than she was letting on. And Carol just wanted Andy back. She had to start thinking, do something, otherwise he was lost to her forever.

  “We’ve got thirty minutes before Camilla kicks us out.” Carol rubbed her palms on her hips. “Where do we start?”

  “What do you know?” Jennifer Sark wrapped her coat a little tighter around herself.

  “You don’t want to know, Mom.” Carol forced herself to smile.

  “Then let me start.” Jennifer sat in a chair facing the door and leaned her forearms on the table. “You have discovered the existence of an organization operating within the CIA. You want to identify those people and bring them to justice. How am I doing?”

  Carol gaped first at her mother, then at her dad look-alike.

  “How do you know this?” Irene asked.

  “Because.” Jennifer leveled a serious stare at Irene. “Up until the day they told me to kill my husband, I worked for them.”

  “The fuck?” Noah drew his gun, pointing it at Jennifer.

  “What?” Carol’s eyes bulged out of her skull and she couldn’t breathe. Her mother? She couldn’t have killed Dad.

  “Stand down, Noah,” Irene barked.

  “Did you just hear her?” Noah demanded.

  “Yes.” Irene continued to stare at Jennifer.

  “I would have preferred to never have this conversation.” Jennifer Sark stared at Carol, a cool, distant expression in her gaze. “You’re just like him, you know? No amount of guiding you would make you choose differently. I suppose it’s time you two meet. Carol, this is you
r half brother, Kevin.”

  Carol stared at the grim face of the man who had yet to take his eyes off her mother.

  “You’re Kevin Winters, aren’t you?” Irene asked.

  “Who?” Carol couldn’t keep up. It was all moving too fast.

  “My mother was our father’s secretary.” Kevin’s gaze slid toward Carol, finally meeting her eyes. “Shortly after my mom got pregnant, he met a beautiful teacher who stole his heart.”

  “I was told to. It wasn’t personal,” Jennifer Sark said as though that absolved her of a lifetime of guilt.

  “Why are you telling this to us?” Irene asked.

  “Because I realized after I killed my husband that I wished I hadn’t.” Jennifer tipped her chin up. “And I don’t want to kill my daughter, though that’s what I was told to come here and do. Whoever assigned Kevin to watch me is an idiot to not have known about our connection.”

  “You knew? This whole time?” Carol stared from Jennifer to Kevin.

  “I knew we were siblings, but…” Kevin shoved a hand through his hair, still glaring at the back of Jennifer’s head.

  “Kevin is former CIA. He was burned and turned into a contractor,” Irene said. “I always wondered…”

  “That’s not what’s important.” Jennifer leaned forward. “Carol? If I could go back and do things differently, I would. I won’t regret what I did, but I don’t have to do it again. What I came here to tell you is that SICA is much bigger—and older—than you realize.”

  “SICA?” Carol frowned. “What—”

  “There isn’t time for questions.” Jennifer took a thumb drive from her pocket. “The woman running the operation to kill you is named Kristina Butler. I don’t know who she is, or why she’s going after you this hard—”

  “Tina?” Carol frowned. The brunette from Irene’s office. The admin. She was an unfriendly, mousy woman. Not at all someone Carol would have identified as a threat.

  “If you don’t work for them anymore, how do you know about Tina?” Irene asked.

  “Carol, take this.” Mom ignored Irene and took a step closer to Carol. “Please. It has enough leverage on it to buy you—and maybe your friends—a new life. But you have to let this go. You can’t fight them. They’re too big.”

  “How did you know where we were?” Irene reached out and grabbed Mom’s arm.