by MC Lee
“Put the gun down, Ryan,” Jack said.
“I don’t think so,” Anderson said coolly. Leo’s back arched, and a small grunt escaped his lips as the gun pressed harder. Jack took a conciliatory step backward, keeping his hands out front where Anderson could see them.
He was aware of a good deal of commotion in the alleyway, and out of the corner of his eye he could see that Freya was surrounded by armed guards and that Donovan’s goons were kneeling on the concrete with their hands clasped behind their heads. Freya’s eyes were round with shock, and she suddenly looked extremely young and frightened.
“This is not going to end the way you think.” Jack turned his head to find his guardian standing at his right side, addressing Anderson coolly. “Where’s Mark Donovan?”
“Nowhere you’re likely to find him,” Anderson said. “Now back the hell off. I’ll let your boy go as soon as I’m clear.”
He took a step back, tugging Leo along with him, and Jack found himself taking a step forward as though pulled by an invisible thread.
“That’s not going to happen.” Palmer’s statement was unequivocal, and Anderson looked momentarily startled. He quickly collected himself and took another step backward.
“There are three high-powered rifles aimed at your head right now,” Palmer said calmly. “Take one more step and they will be deployed.”
Anderson smirked. “If I go, your agent goes with me.”
Jack didn’t think he could have heard right when his guardian replied, “That’s a price I’m willing to pay.”
Jack’s head whipped around, and he stared at his guardian in horror, too shocked to speak.
The smirk dropped off Anderson’s face. “I mean it. Move against me and your boy is going down.”
Palmer inclined his head, considering Leo dispassionately. Leo’s eyes were locked on his, a hint of panic flaring.
“My operatives know and accept the risks,” Palmer said. “Make your decision. My conscience is clear.”
Jack wasn’t even sure that the growl rumbling through his chest was articulate, so he was shocked when the words that tumbled out of his mouth sounded distinct and firm. “Take me instead.”
“No!”
It wasn’t clear who shouted the word that bounced off the walls and echoed up the alleyway. Leo’s eyes were suddenly wild, Sean materialized on the other side of the car, and Michael Palmer’s cool shattered as he turned his head.
But it was too late for any of them to try to stop him. As he said the words, Jack stepped forward and was now within an arm’s length of Anderson, who reached out and dragged him closer, the gun in his hand unerringly jammed hard against Jack’s temple. Almost at the same time, Anderson shoved Leo forcefully, and he fell to his knees, smothering a cry as he hit the pavement face-first.
Martin was suddenly right in front of them, and he dragged Leo to safety before helping him into a sitting position and cutting the ties that bound his arms.
“You damned fool,” Michael Palmer barked, his face red with anger.
Jack flinched but held his ground. Anderson’s fingers tightened, digging into his shoulder painfully, but the gun never wavered.
“I think that changes things,” Anderson said, his hot breath brushing the back of Jack’s neck. “All of you stand back. We’re leaving.”
For a moment nobody moved. Then Michael Palmer raised a hand and gave a brief signal, and everybody moved back a step. Anderson breathed an audible sigh of relief and edged Jack toward the car door.
“You’re driving,” he murmured against Jack’s ear. He maneuvered them into position and shoved Jack into the front seat, all the time keeping the gun jammed against Jack’s temple. Then he opened the back door and slipped quickly into the seat behind Jack before pressing the gun to the back of his head.
He took a moment to glance over at Freya. “Sorry, sweetheart. No room for you this time around. But don’t worry. I’m sure the Center will treat you well.”
Freya’s jaw set in a hard line, but she didn’t rise to the bait, her accusatory stare speaking for her.
Jack turned the key in the ignition, and the car rumbled into life.
Anderson laughed, an incongruous sound given the palpable tension on everybody’s face. “You never know,” he said. “Maybe Donovan will decide to trade you for Jack. He seems to be a commodity everybody wants.”
Jack had time to see how that comment contorted his guardian’s face before he sought out Leo’s eyes. They looked bleak, and Leo’s skin had suddenly paled. The cut on his neck had torn open and blood was starting to drip. It was a disconcerting sight, and Jack briefly wondered if this was how he would remember Leo in the future. If he had a future.
“Move,” Anderson ordered. The gun pushed against the back of Jack’s skull, pressing his head forward, and Jack had no option but to throw the car into gear and press the gas pedal.
He took a final look at Leo’s stricken expression before easing the car slowly out of the alleyway. He tensed, half expecting a bullet to rip through the window and into Anderson, maybe even into him if the Center wanted to stop Anderson badly enough. But nothing happened, even though there were several rifles aimed at the car.
“Turn right and gun this motherfucker,” Anderson snapped.
Jack followed the instruction, and as soon as they cleared the alleyway he put his foot down and drove, leaving an alley full of helpless operatives to face Michael Palmer’s wrath.
When they had successfully put distance between themselves and the Center’s agents, Jack felt the barrel of Anderson’s gun ease away from his head.
“Okay. Slow it down, hotshot,” Anderson said. “Can’t have you bringing the boys in blue down on us.”
Jack reluctantly eased his foot off the gas pedal and slowed the car down to well within the speed limit.
“How the fuck did you guys find us?” Anderson said, sounding genuinely curious.
Jack shrugged. “The Center’s training is thorough. I memorized the route you took when you drove me to the meeting point.”
Anderson whistled through his teeth. “Impressive,” he mumbled. “No wonder Donovan is so batshit crazy obsessed with taking Palmer out. You guys are hard to beat.”
“You must know they’re interrogating Freya right now,” Jack said. “She might try, but she won’t be able to hold out against them.”
Anderson laughed. “I’m counting on it, Jack.”
The knot in the pit of Jack’s stomach tightened. “You fed her false information.”
The next cackle of laughter grated on Jack’s nerves.
“Here’s the thing, Jack. Freya is only credible when she really believes something. You found that out for yourself. She’ll tell them what she knows, and she will be one hundred percent convincing. But what she spills won’t be worth a goddamned thing because it won’t actually be true.”
“You must know she’s in danger.”
Anderson snorted. “What is it your uncle said? She knew the risks involved.”
“You double-crossed her.”
“Collateral damage, Jack,” Anderson said. “Pity you never really learned how to play this game.”
Jack sucked in a breath, trying to get his nausea under control. Freya had been his last hope of coming out of this intact. Without her, he was sunk.
“Save the rest of your questions,” Anderson said briskly. “Take a right here and listen carefully.”
Chapter Thirty
THEY DROVE for ten minutes, Jack carefully following every instruction Anderson gave. When he finally told Jack to stop, they were outside a small warehouse complex in the southeast quadrant of the city. It struck Jack as darkly funny that the address was one of the places Sean’s research team had indicated as a likely hideout.
A door opened, and Jack stiffened when Anderson jammed the gun against his neck.
“In you go,” he said.
Jack stepped out of the car just as Donovan walked out of the building.
&nbs
p; “What the hell happened?” Donovan barked. “Where’s Palmer?”
“It didn’t go according to plan,” Anderson said. “They ambushed us. I only managed to get out by taking a hostage.”
“Damn it!” Donovan fumed. “How did they track you?”
Anderson jerked his thumb. “Ask him.”
Jack didn’t think he was giving much away at this point. “Memory training,” he said succinctly. “And the Relay Protocol has some serious faults.”
Donovan studied Jack’s face, and a bead of sweat itched as it slid down Jack’s back. “I’ve served my purpose,” he said. “I’m out.”
He spun around but wasn’t surprised to find Anderson blocking his way.
“Not so fast, Jack.”
Jack turned back around to face Donovan. “I think we’d be better off taking you along,” he said coolly. “You might be useful to me—”
“Michael Palmer won’t fall for the same trick twice,” Jack said adamantly.
“Perhaps not,” Donovan said. “But you can give us a lot of information.”
Jack barked out a startled laugh. “Me? I don’t know a goddamned thing. I’m about as useful to you as Freya is to the Center.”
If the jibe landed, Donovan didn’t let it show. “You might not think you know anything, but your training techniques speak for themselves. We can learn a lot by studying you, Jack. And when we’ve finished with you, maybe I’ll consider throwing what’s left back to your uncle.”
“Inside.” Anderson’s gun connected with Jack’s back, forcing him to follow Donovan into the disused warehouse. He led the way to what should have been a derelict office, but what was instead a well-equipped nerve center. Computers lined one wall, and a bank of TV screens flickered on another. Maps and charts were spread out over a table, along with stacks of files. It was obvious this was Donovan’s staging area, not the building Jack had been taken to earlier—that he was sure was already being raided by the Center.
Donovan started sorting through the paperwork on the desk.
“Ryan, you know what to do with this place.”
Anderson nodded. He disappeared for a minute, returning with a gas can and a smirk on his face. He began splashing the contents of the can over the office, the acrid smell churning Jack’s stomach.
“It’s odd how history repeats itself,” Donovan said. He was still flicking through piles of paper, and at first Jack didn’t realize Donovan was addressing him. “Your parents found themselves in this position thirteen years ago.”
Jack swallowed hard. “What do you mean?”
Donovan finally looked up. “They didn’t seem to understand there was a price to pay for getting them free of the Center. When they realized we expected them to turn on Michael Palmer, they tried to renege on the deal.”
“How?”
Donovan frowned. “I would have thought that was obvious. They appealed to Palmer for help. Whatever foolish things they had done, they were still his brother and his wife. Unfortunately for them, we found out.”
The smell of gasoline had grown stronger, and fierce pain was hammering against Jack’s skull.
“We realized what was going on when Ellie returned from a visit home without you. She said you were staying with relatives, but we already knew she didn’t have any. It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together after that. Ellie must have met up with her husband and handed you over. It pretty much sealed your parents’ fate.”
“How?” Jack’s throat was raw as he repeated the question, the heavy gasoline fumes making it difficult to breathe. His eyes began to itch and water, tears spilling over when Donovan replied.
“A plane crash isn’t difficult to fake.”
“You killed them.”
Donovan’s expression hardened. “We weren’t in a very forgiving mood. It was clear they would never turn against Palmer. They were no longer useful assets.”
“But now we have you instead,” Anderson said.
Jack turned his head slowly. He scrubbed away the tears wetting his cheeks. “I will never work for you.”
“Never is a strong word. It has a certain finality to it. Are you sure you want to make that decision now?” Donovan said. He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead he picked up a memory stick and held it up. “Your parents’ file. I think you’ll find it interesting. It contains the only photographs of you with them. We did that, at least. We documented your early years.” He sorted through a pile of papers on his desk and picked up another memory stick. “And this one is yours. I’m surprised it was so easy to hack the Center’s files,” he said absently.
But it shouldn’t have been. Jack swallowed with difficulty as the thought rose unbidden. Leo had said the same thing once, and Jack had dismissed him. But he’d never known the Center to lose control of anything, let alone fail to stop a hack of its most sensitive materials. He tried to figure out what it meant, but his head was throbbing too badly and his stomach churned dangerously.
“Okay. Party’s over,” Anderson said. He gestured with the gun, and Jack turned reluctantly and followed Donovan out. They paused in the doorway as Anderson rooted around in his pockets and then pulled out a box of matches with a triumphant flourish.
He lit one and tossed it into the room, and a whoosh of flames flared, the heat driving Jack back a few paces.
“Let’s go.”
Jack followed Donovan to the tall metal door and stood aside as he pushed it open and stepped from the dimness into the bright sunshine. Jack walked out behind him, his heart almost failing when a body launched across the tarmac and tackled him to the ground. A moment later he was being dragged across the pavement, gravel burning his face and bare arms, until he was deposited unceremoniously at Sean’s feet.
Hands reached down and pulled him upright, and it was only then he realized Leo had been the one to knock him down and drag him to safety. The same hands that had pulled him to his feet ran over his limbs, and he looked up, dazed, to find Sean patting him down, searching for injuries.
“I’m fine,” Jack croaked, pushing Sean away.
“So how come you look like shit?” Sean said, smiling faintly. He clapped Jack on the shoulder. “Welcome back.”
“It’s damned good to see you,” Jack breathed.
“Put the gun down, Anderson.”
Jack turned at the sound of his guardian’s peremptory order and saw Anderson and Donovan standing in the doorway of the building. Anderson still had the gun in his hand, but it wavered in the face of the sniper rifles arrayed against him.
“It’s over,” Palmer said coolly. “Don’t make this any harder than it should be. Give yourselves up.”
“To you?” Donovan said calmly. “Seems doubtful.”
“You don’t really have any other choice,” Palmer pointed out.
Behind them the sound of several small explosions shook the air. The computer screens had shattered in the heat of the fire. Suddenly, a column of flames licked into the air.
“Perhaps there’s one other choice,” Donovan said.
He turned and grabbed hold of Anderson, flinging him forward onto his face. As Anderson fell, Donovan disappeared into the burning building. Jack surged forward unconsciously, stopping only when Leo hooked an arm around his waist and pulled him backward.
“He has my parents’ file,” Jack cried. He hadn’t been stupid enough to actually think he could stop Donovan, and he certainly hadn’t planned to follow him. His movements had been instinctive, the urge to hold on to something of his parents’ almost overwhelming reason and common sense.
Leo loosened his hold, but he didn’t remove his arm from around Jack’s waist. Jack watched as Sean’s men picked Anderson up and hustled him into a waiting van. Then Jack turned his head as flames shot out of the building high into the air, moments before the structure creaked and groaned and finally collapsed in a shower of sparks and dust.
“How did you find us?” Jack asked, his eyes still fixed on the ruined building, though no sign o
f life stirred. He sensed, rather than saw, that Sean was standing beside him.
“I wasn’t frisking you for a tracking device when you arrived at Washington Square—”
“You were planting one,” Jack finished.
Sean reached out, and Jack felt a tug on his T-shirt before Sean’s hand appeared in front of him, open palm facing upward, a tiny pin resting on the tip of his index finger.
“You think Donovan’s… gone?” Jack asked.
“I think that’s the best we can hope for,” Sean replied. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
He turned, tugging gently at Jack’s T-shirt to encourage him forward. Jack stopped when a figure loomed in front of him, and he looked up into his guardian’s eyes.
“Good work, Jack,” he said.
It was a startling sentence, one Jack hadn’t been expecting given his actions. Until he read the look on his guardian’s face.
“You knew it would play out this way. You knew I wouldn’t let Anderson take Leo hostage.”
Michael Palmer inclined his head. “I prepared for every eventuality,” he agreed. “Given the patterns you’ve established over the past assignments, it wasn’t difficult to predict which way you would jump. I simply took advantage of the situation.”
“How much of this was a setup?”
“Put your training to use,” his guardian said sternly. “You should be able to answer that question for yourself.”
Chapter Thirty-One
THEY SPLIT Jack and Leo up, insisting they travel back to the Center in separate vehicles. It was painful to whisper good-bye against Leo’s ear and then watch him turn and walk away.
“It’s only for a couple of days,” Sean assured him. “Just until we complete the debrief.” He forced Jack to stand still while one of the Center’s operatives cleaned his scraped skin. Jack barely felt any pain, although he knew it should hurt.
When it was over, he climbed into the back of a car and sat opposite Sean, his eyes eventually drifting shut as adrenaline slowly receded and his taut muscles relaxed.
