by R. D. Brady
Elisabeta smiled, pulling her cloak from behind her chair and wrapping it around herself before heading out the door. Yes, her unmasking was just the beginning. The beginning of her finally realizing her destiny.
“Any sightings of the child?” she asked Artem as he fell in step with her.
“Not yet. It is still believed Delaney McPhearson is in hiding with her, and once she steps out of hiding, the child’s location will be known, although we have received intel that Delaney McPhearson may arrive at the estate today to meet with government lawyers.”
Elisabeta nodded. She knew the U.S. government was planning on dropping all charges against Delaney. It was strongly believed that the other countries of the world who’d sworn out warrants would follow suit.
“They’ll drop the charges. I am now their focus. If McPhearson shows up, be ready for the trifecta plan. I assume everything is in place for it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Artem paused, opening the car door for Elisabeta. “If she does show, should she be the first target?”
“No. Delaney is last on my list. She is not to be harmed, not yet.” Elisabeta smiled, picturing Delaney’s face as Elisabeta removed, one by one, those closest to her. That would be a pain much worse than any death. That was what she deserved.
“Let me know when the government makes their move.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How long until we reach the airport?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Wonderful. Have some champagne chilled for when our business in Sudan is concluded. I have a feeling this is going to be a fulfilling day.”
Chapter 13
Baltimore, Maryland
The Chandler estate was 500 acres of rolling hills that sat about twenty minutes outside Baltimore. It had been part of the Chandler family for around 200 years. Laney felt a pang of longing as the chopper flew along its boundary, heading for the helipad on the east lawn. God, she had missed this place.
But even as much as she was looking forward to stepping onto the grounds again, she couldn’t deny that she had a small twinge of fear racing through her. She had been elated at Henry’s call, but that elation had diminished when he said that government officials wanted to meet with her. She’d thought she was free and clear, but she had a feeling some tight strings were going to come with her freedom.
Drake and Patrick had offered to come with her, but she’d told them both to stay behind with Victoria. No, not Victoria, she had to remind herself again. Nyssa.
That was going to take some getting used to. But in the long run, it would be better for her. They needed to think of her as just a child, because right now that’s what she was. And she deserved a childhood free from the baggage of Lilith for as long as they could manage it.
Three figures came into view as she spied the helipad—Henry, Jen, and Jake Rogan. Tears welled up in Laney’s eyes as she soaked them in. The chopper had barely touched down before Laney was opening the door, ducking low, and running for them. Henry wrapped her in his arms, twirling her around with a laugh. She held him tight, her laugh mingling with her tears. He gently placed her on the ground. His eyes were bright with tears as well. Hands on her shoulder, he turned her, and then she was engulfed in Jen’s hug.
“I have missed you,” Jen said.
“Not nearly as much as I have missed all of you.”
“All right, all right. My turn,” Jake said.
Laney felt herself being turned around again and pulled into Jake’s embrace. Emotion wafted over her at the thought that somehow, even with their breakup, they had managed to stay such good friends. “Oh, Jake.”
“You’re home, Laney.”
She nodded into his shoulder and felt the truth in his words. Home.
Laney sat at the kitchen table in the main house, a mug of tea wrapped in her hands. The staff had loaded a buffet on the giant island. Now she was happily—bordering on uncomfortably—stuffed. She’d been on the estate for almost two hours. There had been a parade of people through the kitchen. From the security team to the administrative assistants, it seemed like everyone had stopped in to welcome Laney back.
Laney had managed to carve out a quick trip down to see Dom to thank him for helping her disappear. Now Dom’s face was on the iPad that sat on the table, listening and joining the conversation every once in a while, usually to correct a factual inaccuracy.
Lou, Rolly, and Zach had stopped by along with Danny. Snow, the all-white Javan leopard had been with them. Laney was happy to see how bonded she was with Lou.
Henry’s watch beeped, and he looked at it with a grimace. “The government people have arrived. They’re being shown to a conference room now.”
A sliver of apprehension fluttered through her stomach. “So we’re sure this isn’t just some ruse to arrest me, right?”
Jake patted the gun at his side as he stood. “We are prepared for that possibility.”
Brett Hanover, head of the Chandler legal department walked in at just that moment. Normally Brett was unflappable, always in a stylish suit and tie, never letting stress show. But at Jake’s statement, his mouth fell open. “You cannot bring a weapon to an FBI interview!”
Jake shrugged. “I have a permit.”
“You still cannot bring it with you.
“It’s joining the meeting, Brett. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll tell the snipers on the roof to stand down.”
Brett’s eyes went larger than Laney had thought physically possible. “Snipers on the roof? Are you insane?”
Laney took Brett’s arm. “It’s fine. And I’m sure Jake’s joking about the snipers.” She glanced at Jake.
“Sure I’m joking.” He gave her an exaggerated wink.
Laney groaned.
Henry quickly took Brett’s other arm and led them out of the room before Brett had a heart attack. Jake followed behind them.
Laney turned to Brett. “Any last-minute advice?”
Brett glared at Jake over his shoulder before turning to Laney. “Yes. Remember, Dr. McPhearson, you say nothing unless I give you permission, all right? And offer as short and succinct a reply as you can, all right?”
“Yes, no, I don’t recall?”
He patted her arm. “Exactly.”
No one spoke as they headed to the conference room on the first floor of the building. Normally conferences were held on the third floor, but Henry and Jake did not want to let the government people any farther into the building than they needed to. If it had been up to them, they probably would have told the officials they could speak through the front gate, with the officials on one side and Laney on the other. Luckily—or unluckily, depending on how this went—Brett had prevailed by arguing that showing the government courtesy could help ease tensions.
Laney couldn’t speak for the government, but she wasn’t exactly feeling a reduction of tension as she spied the door up ahead. She glanced back at Henry and Jake as she caught sight of the scaffolding outside the door. “Is the room under construction?”
“Huh, so it is,” Jake drawled.
Laney chuckled, but Brett glared at the three of them. “Really? You three do realize we’re trying to get the government to drop the charges and not add new ones, right?”
Henry just shrugged. There was no time to change anything; the government people were already inside.
Shaking his head, Brett adjusted his tie, wiping the annoyance from his face. “Here we go.”
Brett stepped in with Laney only a step or two behind him. Laney tried to keep her face as neutral as the lawyer, but the state of the room made it a little difficult. A giant scaffold had been pushed against the back wall, and dozens of paint cans were stacked up underneath it. Drop cloths covered mysterious objects on either side of the conference table. The table itself had been wiped clean, as had the chairs around it. Coffee and bagels had been set up at one end, but the attempts of the staff to tidy up the spot were sorely outclassed by the disrepair of the walls, which were unpainted
sheetrock with only half the spackle completed. Even the light fixture above the table had been removed. Now instead of one the Chandler Group’s signature chandeliers, a bare bulb on the end of a long wire dangled from the ceiling.
Laney put her hand to her mouth to hide her smile, then coughed at Brett’s glare. Straightening his shoulders and no doubt cursing Laney, Jake, and Henry silently, Brett just headed for the chair across from the three suited individuals, two men and a woman, none of them smiling. They stood up as Brett pulled out his chair. Laney recognized the man in the middle, Attorney General Dick Chenwick. To his right was the deputy director of the FBI, Andre Revken. The woman on the right, however, she did not know.
Brett made introductions. The woman was Danielle Patine from Homeland Security. Laney pictured Moses Seward, the psychopath who’d had Cain beaten within an inch of his life, who’d also been from Homeland Security.
Danielle met her gaze with a cool one of her own but said nothing.
None of the government offered to shake hands. Laney didn’t either. Apparently this was not going to be a friendly meeting. Once everyone was seated, Brett folded his hands on the table. “Now, what can the Chandler Group do for the United States government today?”
Chapter 14
Göbekli Tepe, Turkey
Two men in white with a stretcher between them hustled down the path toward the waiting ambulance. Mustafa Massari stepped aside, blanching at the arm that fell from under the sheet, blood sliding along the fingers to the ground.
The news of the attack had reached Mustafa as he was on the way to the Göbekli Tepe site. Matt hadn’t heard anything about it until he reached the site. The Turkish officials were trying to keep a lid on it.
He’d been a bundle of nerves the whole ride from the airfield. He’d been unable to reach his sister or Matt. He knew it was the spotty cell service. Matt had managed to get a voicemail through, telling him Fadil was alive, but still, it had been one of the most nerve-racking hours of his life.
She’s fine. Matt saw her. She’s fine. Mustafa reached the end of the path and collared a man in a long blue tunic splattered with mud and a spray of blood. “Where are the people who survived?”
The man’s eyes were large, seemingly unable to focus.
On a hunch, Mustafa asked the same question in Arabic, even though he knew it was only spoken by a minority of the Turkish population. “Please,” he added.
The man finally met Mustafa’s gaze. He pointed down the path to the right. “At the main dig site. Those that lived, you’ll find them there.”
“Thank you.” Mustafa patted the man on the shoulder and walked on, but he couldn’t help turning around and watching the man. He hadn’t moved. He stood now with his hand on his chest, tears streaming down his cheeks as another stretcher with a body too small to be anything but a child’s passed him by.
Mustafa turned away, picking up his pace, trying to staunch the horror that was slowly crawling over him. This was not his first mass murder site, but this was the first one that was personal.
From the reports he and Matt had received on the way over, no one on the dig had suspected anything when they began their work early that morning. The gunfire bursts were the first sign, and those had been aimed at the site’s security.
But from the eyewitness reports, they knew that most of the attackers didn’t need guns. The guns were a cover, used to confuse law enforcement into thinking it had been an ISIS-inspired attack by people angry at the uncovering of a historical pagan site.
The fact that there had been survivors was a miracle. The gunmen had taken down everyone that moved. No one was spared. But one woman had the quick thinking to grab as many people as she could and hide them within a small cavern. Fadil’s actions had saved a dozen people.
But Mustafa knew that no matter how many she’d saved, it would be those she hadn’t been able to save that would haunt her. Forty-two people had been killed, the youngest six years old. No mercy or hesitation had been shown. Another seven were injured, but it did not look good.
The signs of violence became more apparent the farther into the site he went. Ancient obelisks that had been protected by the earth for thousands of years now bore witness to the violence of the modern age with the bullet holes that had permanently altered their appearance.
Pools of blood were scattered across the site. Some bodies still lay where they’d fallen, the sheer scope of the wounded overwhelming the responders. The dead would have to wait their turn.
Mustafa wound past all of it, heading for the easternmost part of the dig. Ahead, a ring of law enforcement officers stood with weapons at the ready. Matt was already ensconced with them. He had paved the way for Mustafa.
Mustafa could hear the cries of men and women. As he drew closer, he saw the lucky twelve huddled in small groups, comforting one another. A quick glance showed they were all uninjured, although the blood staining their clothes and hands testified to their attempts to save their colleagues and friends. The group was a mixture of races and ethnicities, from blonde Scandinavians to dark-haired Chinese and Pakistanis to brown-haired individuals who could have been from just about anywhere. Mustafa only gave them a passing glance, his gaze focusing in on one dark-haired girl who had grown up outside Cairo and who used to bug him for a bedtime story every night from the time she was four until she was seven.
“Fadil.”
Fadil Massari looked up from where she sat her arm around an older woman with graying hair. Her eyes went wide, and she quickly spoke with a blond man next to her, who took her spot. Mustafa searched her for any injury. There were scratches on her arms and she limped, but otherwise she seemed uninjured.
Mustafa hurried forward and wrapped her in his arms. She clung to him as a shudder ran through her. “Mustafa. You’re here.”
“Of course I’m here.” He held her until her shaking subsided. Then he pulled back to allow himself to look into her eyes. “Are you all right?”
Fadil nodded. “We hid. We opened up a small cavern earlier today. The dirt was packed so hard it protected everything inside. We weren’t sure it was stable because of the hole we made, but I pushed everyone inside. I thought it was our only chance.”
A simple statement, but he knew how terrified she must have been. But according to Matt’s message, she had kept her head and hurried everyone into the hiding spot when the gunshots rang out. And she had been one of the first to leave the spot to check for survivors.
His voice was thick as he thought of how close he came to losing her. “You did well, little sister.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I hid like a coward. Robin, she was out there. And she . . .”
Mustafa closed his own eyes, feeling the loss. Robin and Fadil had met on the dig last year, and Mustafa knew that his sister had never been happier. Just these last few months, their parents had finally consented to meet Robin.
“I should have found her. I should have—”
“Shh, shh. There is nothing you could have done. The people who attacked the site, you would not have been able to stop them. You would have been killed, too.” Mustafa kissed her on the forehead. “You did well. No one could have done any better.”
“But so many people died.”
“Look at me, Fadil.” He waited until his sister’s dark brown eyes looked up at him. “In these types of situations, you can constantly question what you have done, what you should have done. The truth is you saved people’s lives today, and yes, lives were lost. But that responsibility is not on your shoulders. It is on the shoulders of the cowards who targeted a defenseless group of people. Don’t take that on.”
She nodded, but Mustafa knew she had a long road ahead of her filled with even longer nights. He pulled her close, promising to be there for her when he could and to make sure he found whoever had forced this fear into his sister’s eyes.
“I saw one of them. He smiled as he shot my friend Asir. Smiled. And then he ran so fast he became a blur.” She paused. �
�He was one of them, wasn’t he? One of the Fallen.”
“Yes.”
“But why? Why attack? What did they want?”
Mustafa looked around. “I don’t know. That’s what we are here to find out. Is there anything that you can think of that they would have been interested in?”
Fadil shook her head as she wiped her eyes. “This site is thousands of years old. What could possibly be of importance for them to do this?” She gestured to an obelisk. “I mean, this is history captured in stone. It makes no sense.”
“Mustafa.”
Mustafa turned. Matt stood a few feet away. “I’d like you to take a look at something.”
Mustafa looked down at Fadil, who nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll just—”
“Actually, I’d like you to come look as well,” Matt said.
Mustafa shook his head. “No. She’s not—”
“I’m fine, Mustafa. And if it will help, I want to.”
Mustafa glared at Matt before looking down at Fadil and giving her a tight nod. Matt headed down the path, winding his way through the site. Following, Mustafa took Fadil’s hand and clasped it tightly in his.
Matt led them to the other side of the site, stopping above a dig. Mustafa stopped on the edge, looking down. As Fadil came abreast of him, she gasped.
“I take it this destruction is new?” Matt asked.
Fadil nodded, seeming unable to tear her gaze from the piles of rocks littering the ground. “There were ten obelisks in here. Yann’s team just finished excavating them two days ago. Why would they destroy them?”
“I believe it is what was on them that they were trying to destroy. Were photographs taken?”
“Yes, of course. They were linked up to the main site.” Fadil’s voice dwindled away as she watched Matt. “What?”
“Your server has been hacked. All the information has been removed. And the computers and all cameras on site have been removed as well.”
Fadil’s face fell.
“Is there any other record of the site?” Mustafa. “Anyone who might have taken some pictures?”
