The Rogue Agent

by Daniel Judson

  Cahill nodded. “Gateno was one of the four men your father tracked down in the city two years later. He was the only one to walk out of that hotel room alive.”

  Tom stared at his friend.

  What could either man say?

  After a moment, Cahill spoke. “I didn’t know, Tom. No one did, not the Colonel, not Raveis. I don’t think they would have kept that from you. If anything, it would have helped them get you to do what they’d been grooming you to do.” Cahill paused, then said, “No one would have known if not for Valena keeping the phone Ballentine had given her. Without that, we would have never found the courier, and without her . . .”

  Cahill didn’t finish his thought.

  Stella was out of the rowboat and on the dock, approaching Tom.

  She reached his side, but he was still staring at Cahill.

  Then Tom let the line drop from his hand, and the steady nighttime current began to pull the small boat away.

  Nothing was as it was, nor would it ever be again.

  Stella knew this just by looking at Tom.

  As did the others.

  Word had spread through the house by morning, but preparations for a quick departure kept everyone busy.

  No one had time to do more than quickly seek out Tom’s eyes, and when they did, he made certain to acknowledge each of them with a grateful nod.

  If not for them, after all, the Algerian would not be dead.

  And their own lives, like Tom’s, would never be the same because of the Algerian.

  Either by the man’s hand or command, someone they cared for was dead.

  Theirs was an order to which no one wished to belong, but they did now and always would.

  While Stella was grateful she did not belong in that club—Tom was alive—she knew that she was a member of another.

  She had played a part in killing the Benefactor’s best man.

  And she had played a part in the death of the other men he’d sent.

  Of course, the Benefactor would not know the specific details of those two events, but how could a man like him not want any and all who had dared to stand against him to be destroyed?

  And how could he fail to recognize that Tom had not made his stand alone?

  Stella’s life, too, would never be the same.

  As long as Tom was beside her, though, she didn’t care how deep they had to hide or how far they had to run.

  She was strong enough for all of that.

  And she would only get stronger.

  But their real strength was in numbers, and Stella needed Tom to finally see that.

  The safest thing wasn’t to scatter but to remain together, face whatever was to come as a force.

  So as they waited to depart with the others, Stella brought Tom to the dark study and made her case.

  “I’m done running, Tom,” she said. “And I’m done hiding. So let’s not fight it anymore. Raveis wants you, always has, so he’ll take me, too, if it means getting you. We’ll learn what he has to teach, because no matter what we do or where we hide, the Benefactor will find us. So let’s be ready for him when he does. Or better yet, let’s save him the trouble and find him first. Let’s end all this or die trying, because what else is left for us? He pushed, and now we have to push back. We’ll bring them the Benefactor’s head, and then we’ll go somewhere and live our lives in peace. It’s the way this has to go, and you know it. It’s been leading to this from the very start. I’d rather die beside you than live without you. Maybe if we do this, we won’t have to do either.”

  Tom looked at her but said nothing.

  “So let’s call Raveis now, because there isn’t a lot of time to waste. He’s out there, Tom, and you know it. The Benefactor is out there, and he wants us—all of us—dead.”

  It was six a.m. when the vehicles arrived—a convoy of black SUVs sent by the Colonel and driven and protected by men Raveis had recruited and trained.

  To Stella’s eye, each and every one of those heavily armed men possessed the zeal of a true follower.

  Hardened disciples of Sam Raveis, these men would not betray them.

  And may God have mercy on them if they tried.

  The Cahill estate on Shelter Island was closed up by the time the vehicles departed again thirty minutes later.

  The SUV that Stella and Tom occupied was the last to leave the grounds.

  She watched through the rear window as the guards that would remain behind as caretakers closed the gates.

  The home that had once been full of life and light and healing was now silent and empty.

  Abandoned, like so many of the places in which Stella had lived over these past years.

  But what was behind them didn’t matter.

  She told herself this, believed it now more than ever.

  What did matter was who was beside her, and who was around the two of them.

  She was among warriors, was herself one, now.

  Nothing was as it would be, nor would it ever be again.

  About the Author

  Photo © 2012 Tracy Deer-Mirek

  Daniel Judson is the Shamus Award–winning (and four-time finalist) author of The Temporary Agent, his first novel in The Agent Series, as well as Avenged, The Poisoned Rose, The Bone Orchard, The Gin Palace, The Darkest Place, The Betrayer, The Water’s Edge, The Violet Hour, and Voyeur. Judson’s immersive research method lends his work a distinctive authenticity and has fostered an ever-expanding, eclectic skill set that includes Vipassana meditation, Filipino knife fighting, and urban-evasion techniques. A Son of the American Revolution, former grave digger, and self-described onetime drifter, Judson currently lives in Connecticut with his fiancée and their rescued cats.