by Cliff Ryder
His face turning as pale as his fish entree, Terrence rose to his feet with such force that he overturned his chair, attracting startled stares from nearby patrons. "I don't have to sit here and listen to these ridiculous accusations…"
"Actually, Terrence, if you'll look to your left, you'll see two very good reasons why you're going to do exactly that." Samantha's gaze followed Terrence's as he glanced over to see Jake and Darlene, both of them staring back at him with their best dead-eyed, covert-government-assassin gazes.
"They are my operatives. And if I give the word, they will follow you out of here, wait until the proper time and place and spirit you away to one of our little hiding places." Samantha's voice, which had still been light and jovial, turned ice-cold. "And I can guarantee you that the setting, and the conversation therein, will not be nearly as pleasant."
"Sir, is everything all right?" A solicitous waiter, unaware of what he had walked into, addressed Terrence, who was looking as if he might keel over at any moment.
"My dinner companion just had a slight shock, but I'm sure he's all right now, aren't you?" Samantha's tone hid honed steel under velvet.
"Yes, I'm just fine, thank you. Terribly sorry about the disturbance, everyone. Please, enjoy your meals." The mercenary didn't so much fall as collapse into his chair, which had been righted by the waiter.
"There, isn't that better, Terrence? Perhaps you should take some water," Samantha said.
"To hell with that." Terrence grabbed for his wineglass and knocked back the rest of the chardonnay, then poured himself another. "I could really use a double Scotch."
"Perhaps later, after we've concluded out business."
He stopped with the glass still raised. "Business? What business? You've caught us dead to rights. We're finished. After this breaks, Mercury Security is over. You've ruined my company and me, you heartless bitch."
"No, that you did all by yourself. However, I have a solution for you. Let's say that I'm not representing MI-6 or the British government right now."
Terrence's sweating brow frowned in annoyance. "I don't understand…"
"That's fine, but just go with it. I'm not here to arrest you or to dismantle your company, Terrence. In fact, I'm here to offer the opposite. I can make this all go away, for you, and for Mercury. No one outside of you, me and a small, select group of people ever need know that it happened at all."
"Why would you do that?" he asked.
"Because your company is worth more to us intact than torn apart. Mercury Security has its fingers in some very nasty pies, and the people I work with want to know what's happening in those kitchens, to extend the metaphor."
"You want me to be a double agent — spy on my own people?"
Samantha picked up her glass and sipped the chardonnay, then set it down again. "Again, an excellent recommendation. It's either that or you stand trial for treason, of which you will most assuredly be found guilty. Your choice, of course."
Terrence visibly deflated, any semblance of the polished, refined gentleman disappearing as he hunched over in his seat.
There was a long silence before he mumbled the words that Kate wanted to hear: "I accept your terms."
"Excellent." Samantha rose from the table. "So glad to have reached such an amicable solution, Terrence. My people will set up the details. Oh, and it was wonderful to see you again." She strode out of the restaurant, drawing stares from both men and women as she passed their tables.
Kate hit a button on her phone.
Samantha's voice answered. "Yes?"
"That was marvelously done," she said.
"I must admit it gave me a small amount of pleasure. However, I would have given it all up if our team had survived instead."
"You and I both. Still, a masterful job. I have a feeling that this is going to pay off huge in time."
"Yes, I do, as well. Who knows — we may even subcontract with them for some of our messier jobs."
"I'm not sure I'd go that far. Take the rest of the night off," Kate said.
"I'll be drawing a bath and rewarding myself with a good, long soak. What about you?"
"Believe me, there's a bed calling my name this very minute. Thanks again, Samantha."
"No problem at all, Kate. Get some rest yourself — and that's an order."
"Message received. Goodnight."
Kate set her phone down, turned it off and took out her earpiece. She'd need at least six hours of rest, then the whole thing would start over again.
As she undressed and walked into the tiled bathroom, she pondered Samantha's words. While she also would have given up the chance to turn Terrence in exchange for her Midnight Team's survival, those decisions always had to be made sooner or later, or else very bad things would happen. And Kate knew that, no matter what the consequences, the responsibility for those decisions rested squarely on her shoulders.
And I would make them again if I had to, if it meant accomplishing what we have tonight, she thought as she stepped into the shower. I would make the same one every single time. But even though she made the water as hot as she could stand it, Kate never truly felt warm, not then, nor under the thick blankets on the bed. Her sleep, however, was relatively untroubled and in the end, that was all she ever could ask for.
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