He hadn’t been looking for this, whatever it was, but it’d found him. He wasn’t going to let go of Lillian. Not for anything this world had to offer.
…
Tuesday. Port of Hamburg, Hamburg, Germany.
Lillian’s body hadn’t yet gotten the memo they were no longer on the boat. Her head felt funny and though she hadn’t suffered from motion sickness the way Noah had, she wasn’t ready to eat, either.
Noah glanced over his shoulder, his gaze barely touching her. There was a strain around his mouth and the way he kept looking around made her want to hunch her shoulders and hide somewhere. It went against her instinct to keep ten feet of distance between them as they strode from where the boat had docked to the streets of Hamburg.
Their group dispersed as people on their commercial freighter headed for different destinations, some within the marina. By the time they reached the street there were fewer than ten people still with them. Four were Brandon’s people.
Lillian paused on the sidewalk to take in her surroundings. The air smelled of brine and diesel.
Noah looked up and down the street and leaned forward.
He wasn’t…
He darted out into traffic.
Lillian groaned and jogged after him. She caught up at the median, where he paused to wait for the traffic to break.
“Was that necessary?” she asked.
“Didn’t want them following,” he said without looking at her.
“Everyone has their own route, right?”
“Yup.” Noah took her hand and pulled her onto the street.
She yelped and quick-stepped to keep up, hustling across to the curb. Noah didn’t stop when they reached the sidewalk. He kept going, dragging her along with him, headed away from the marina.
“What the hell?” She huffed and found her stride alongside him.
“We aren’t going to the safe house. At least not yet,” he said.
“What?” That was news to her.
“I wanted to see Mitch and Irene alone. We need to decide what we’re going to do about Demetrius and find out what they know, without Brandon’s bias.”
“We can’t work as a team if we’re keeping secrets.”
“We won’t keep secrets. All I want is the chance to get all the information without him making unilateral decisions.”
Lillian swallowed her knee-jerk comments. Noah was right. Brandon might burn them instead of helping if it got him some measure of revenge. Even she was concerned about what he might do and how it could endanger everyone they’d brought with them. Already one of his men hadn’t shown up for boarding the boat. If they lost others, would those loose ends become their liability?
She was beginning to think like them, fitting the jigsaw pieces together. It wasn’t all that different from what she’d done in her professional life. Things weren’t always a matter of right and wrong, it was how you framed the situation. How it looked to the public. She’d come into this partnership wanting to do what was right, except now it was more shades of gray.
Noah led her further south, into Harburg and away from Hamburg. They walked for blocks, to the point that Lillian’s feet throbbed and she was sweating despite the chilly temperature. She stopped trying to look around at the historic structures and focused on placing one foot in front of the other. They weren’t here to see the sights.
At long last Noah changed direction so fast she walked past him. He pulled on her arm, leading her into a café that looked like a hundred other shops they’d passed since leaving the port authority. She swallowed her grumbling for the sake of her growling stomach and throbbing feet. Even a little pause was a welcome change.
Her gaze skipped over a man with a bushy, blond beard to the elegant black woman sitting at the corner table.
Lillian’s breath caught in her throat.
She knew that woman.
Irene…
She stuck out in a crowd. It was the way she held herself, poised, confident. The black sweater tunic, jeans and shiny boots merely underlined that.
The bearded man leaned into her line of sight, his eyebrows wiggling.
Wait a minute…
Blond hair shot through with silver. Blue eyes. Big build.
Mitch?
“Why don’t you go sit at that table and I’ll grab us something to eat?” Noah nodded at the table adjacent to the other two agents.
“Sure,” Lillian mumbled.
She shambled to the table and opted to sit with her back toward the door, leaving the other chair for Noah. He was better at this stuff and so far she excelled at keeping her head down.
“Good to see you,” Mitch said softly as she settled in the chair that was almost next to his own.
“I didn’t recognize you.” Lillian kept her gaze on the table.
Irene got up, tucked her newspaper under her arm and strolled out of the shop without meeting Lillian’s gaze once.
“We’re going to wait a few minutes once we know you weren’t followed.” Mitch tapped at his phone, never once looking at her.
“Please tell me we’re going somewhere close?” Lillian dropped her head into her hands.
“Just around the block.”
“Here you go.” Noah slid into the empty seat and handed her a cup of coffee. He kept the two wrapped sandwiches in hand.
Mitch’s phone vibrated. A signal?
“Keep close,” Mitch said softly.
He put his earphones in and stood, stretching his arms over his head.
“You good to go a little farther?” Noah asked, his attention on her, as though he never saw Mitch.
“I guess I have to.” Around the block didn’t sound too bad.
Mitch ambled out of the café while they were still seated.
Lillian wrapped her hands around the warm cup and stood, leading the way back out onto the sidewalk. This time they walked at an easier pace. Under the power of coffee she was able to at least lift her head and glance around, taking in what she assumed was an average street with its narrow lane and stone buildings.
They followed Mitch to an apartment complex. Once inside, Lillian was lost, but Noah seemed to have a trail, winding them up stairs, down halls, and on without hesitation.
Their destination was on the third floor. A door at the end of the hall was open as though inviting them inside. Even though they were going to meet friends, Noah still pushed her behind him and took the lead.
Both Mitch and Irene sat at a four-person table situated away from the windows. Irene crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Lillian, giving her quick squeeze.
“It’s so good to see you,” she said.
“How have you been?” Lillian hugged Irene back. They’d had one face-to-face meeting and dozens of phone calls. They were unlikely friends. When Lillian couldn’t talk to anyone, Irene understood.
“Not to hurry things along, but we are on a tight schedule,” Noah said. He shed his coat and took a seat at the table, unwrapping the sandwich without looking at it.
Lillian kept her coat on. She was still so cold she could barely feel her toes. Mitch pulled out a chair for her and she sat next to Noah.
“I like the beard,” Lillian said.
“Thanks.” The whiskers around Mitch’s mouth quivered, as though he were smiling.
“Is that a counter-surveillance measure? Does it make it harder for people to read your lips?”
“Hey, I hadn’t thought of that. Did you hear what Lillian said, Irene?” Mitch grinned at the other woman.
Irene rolled her eyes and shook her head. The difference was in her smile. Lillian wasn’t sure if she ever seen the CIA agent smile before.
“Were either of you able to track Demetrius? What do we know about him?” Noah took a bite of his sandwich.
“Demetrius, now there’s a person I could have gone my entire life without knowing about.” Irene shook her head and reached for a tablet sitting in the middle of the table.
“Demetrius Theron is a
thirty-six-year-old South African immigrant. He came to America four years ago on a work visa along with his two children. Officially, there’s nothing sketchy or bad about him. But, if you scratch the surface and ask around, another story unfolds.” Mitch gestured to the tablet Irene laid on the table.
Irene sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “According to the dark web, Demetrius used to be a very expensive hit man in South Africa. He did work as far north as Egypt, but he primarily worked in the southern Africa region. His work includes assassinating political figures, business owners, bad boyfriends, cheating wives, you name it, he’s done it. However, all of that work disappeared four years ago when he came to America.”
“We did find some interesting things about his children.” Mitch tapped the screen of the tablet. “Their documents are good, but someone fixed them. Their names and records didn’t exist before four years ago. Whoever these children are, they had no documented relation to him before coming to America. Could be intentional, could be he took a liking to these kids and decided they were his.”
“You think he kidnapped these children?” Lillian hadn’t even thought that was a possibility. She’d heard Demetrius put everything on the line for these children and just assumed they were his.
“I’m not saying they aren’t his children, just that there’s no paper trail. It’s possible that the children’s mother did not want to name Demetrius as the father when they were born because of his job. It makes sense that he would have enemies who would target his family, especially his children. For all we know, it was done intentionally to protect them.” Irene looked to Mitch.
“That makes sense.” Noah stared at the tablet, but his gaze wasn’t there. “A man who does what he does knows the risk of having a family. If someone got to the mom, if they killed her or hurt her, a guy like this is going to make that person pay and make some hard choices about protecting his children.”
“We are looking into missing children, but…” Mitch shrugged.
“Makes you wonder how Rand and Sarah are doing,” Irene said.
“Yeah, how are they doing?” Lillian glanced at the two CIA agents.
“About that…” Mitch shook his head and chuckled. “Rand went radio silent on us for a while, and we had no idea where they were. Someone’s had a hard-on for them lately. They’ve been right on their tail, so Rand decided to do something about it. Our boy led a bunch of these guys all the way to Thailand straight into a trap and blew up a house on top of them.”
Lillian gaped at Mitch. “Oh my God.”
“Do we know who was after them?” Noah asked.
“SICA is our guess based on the tech and connections.” Irene grimaced.
“Before we change topics, what are we going to do about Demetrius?” Noah asked.
“Without someone to confirm that his children are missing, all we have to go on is his word.” Mitch shrugged. “How much is that worth?”
“We need a break. Badly. If he’s serious, and if we can trust him even a little, it’s worth considering,” Irene said.
“We can’t take the risk. Not after what happened in London,” Mitch said.
“London. How is our new ally holding up?” Irene asked.
“Which one?” Noah asked.
“Let’s start with Brandon.”
Noah glanced at Lillian. Where to begin with that?
“He’s a wreck.” Lillian hated saying that, but after watching Brandon unravel over the last two days, there were no other words for it.
“Our biggest fear is that Brandon will prioritize his revenge over our mission. Right now we do not have the same goals. I’m hoping we can align our efforts with a little help. We need him and his resources. He has a team, equipment, money, and no one wants him dead. It’s a lot more than we’ve got.” Noah leaned back in his chair.
“Those are not small things,” Irene said. “Are we willing to risk it? If we don’t work with him, he could work against us.”
“What about Secretary of State Grant?” Mitch blew out a breath and picked up a pen. “Now there’s something I wasn’t expecting.”
“That actually did not surprise me.” Irene crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. “I remember when he used to be the rock-solid intelligence committee chair.”
“Can we trust him, though?” Lillian asked.
“What do you think?” Mitch asked.
“My experience with him was in another area. We were controlling the story around his transition into office. We weren’t fixing or covering up anything. It was all straight and narrow. I never would have seen this coming based on what I know about him.” Lillian had no idea what Mr. Grant had been up to. The knowledge that he was running a secret organization that focused on ending conflict was still a shock.
“But do you trust him?” Irene asked.
“I thought I did. I guess I still do.” Lillian didn’t know what to think about anything anymore.
“I think Mr. Grant is exactly who we think he is,” Irene said. “He is a patriot doing what he can to keep people safe. He has always had the good of others in his heart. If I was going to trust any of the players on the board, it would be him and us.” Irene spoke with passion. If she believed it, Lillian was willing to take the chance.
“Hector.” Noah looked around the table. “He was one of us.”
“The only reason he knew what was going on was because of Rand. If he hadn’t been Rand’s handler I don’t think he would’ve involved himself with us,” Irene said.
“Hector never seemed interested in being a team player back when the shit hit the fan with Rand,” Mitch said.
“Hector knows more about us and our way of operating than I’m comfortable with. I’m going to throw an idea out there and you guys can shoot me down, but we need to consider it.” Noah held up his hands. “What if we task Demetrius with taking care of Hector?”
“I’m not comfortable with the idea of ordering the death of a CIA operative, even a dirty one.” Irene shook her head. “I know what people say about me. I will admit that some of it is true, but not this.”
Mitch and Noah shared a look. Lillian was scared of what that meant. She didn’t want people to die, but Noah had a point. Hector had chosen his side and was after them. Given the opportunity, he’d kill her. That alone proved Noah’s side of things.
She never thought she would agree with Noah on anything. What did that say about her? When she began this job, it’s been about saving lives. Now she was arguing with herself on if it was a good idea or not to be okay with one man’s death. If she was going to be mercenary about it, Hector was a bigger risk to herself and the American public working with SICA than they were.
“Okay.” Lillian leaned forward and folded her hands on the table. “What’s our game plan?”
“Andy and Carol should be here by the end of the day,” Irene said. “Once they are, we can dive into what you guys brought with you from the UK and present our backup plan to Brandon and Mr. Grant. Until then, we should focus on Brandon. We need to control him, or figure out a way around him.”
Lillian’s heart broke for Brandon, but she hoped they could figure out a way to work together. On the other hand, she couldn’t wait to see Carol again. The brief amount of time they’d seen each other in London wasn’t enough.
“I didn’t tell you guys this, but Andy and Carol went and got married.” Mitch leaned an elbow on the table and grinned. “I’d like to get them a little cake or something.”
All the breath went out of Lillian’s lungs.
Andy and Carol were married?
Lillian stared. She’d known from Carol’s single-minded determination to rescue Andy that he was more than just the man she was working with. Lillian wished she could have been part of these chapters of her friend’s life. They’d often joked that they were each other’s only friend, and Lillian was missing out.
“We’ve got to get going. If we don’t get to the safe house soon, Brandon’s people are going t
o start looking for us.” Noah stood, his gaze sliding to Lillian.
“Right. Yes. More walking. Can’t wait.” She pushed to her feet and sighed.
This was her life. The decisions that had led her here were hers. At least she wasn’t alone.
Chapter Seventeen
Tuesday. Safe House, Hamburg, Germany.
Noah wasn’t sure how much he liked the safe house Mr. Grant had provided. It was too lavish. Too fancy. Someone was going to notice or comment on the number of rough-and-tumble people coming and going. But no one had asked Noah’s opinion on the place so he kept that to himself.
“Stop pacing, please?” Lillian sat curled up on the sofa, a cup of something hot in her hands.
“They’ll be here soon,” he muttered.
He peered out onto the street below.
The building was in a more affluent area. The company formerly run by Jeff owned the top three floors. There were blind spots, places where cameras didn’t penetrate. It wasn’t as secure a location as he’d have liked. But that wasn’t even his main concern at the moment. The impending meeting and how to handle Brandon were the bigger issues.
Lillian sighed and pushed to her feet. He watched her reflection in the window, taking perverse joy in the fact she came to him. She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arm around his waist.
“We’re going to pull this off,” she whispered.
He hoped so. For her sake. For Andy and Carol. For Rand and Sarah’s baby. They all had a lot riding on this, and it could still blow up in their faces. They could end up dead and buried, none the wiser, no difference made.
She tipped her chin up. “I was thinking—”
The door to their room creaked open.
Noah reacted without thinking. He whirled, drawing his gun, and put himself between Lillian and the door.
A woman with short blonde hair stepped inside, completely ignoring the gun.
“Carol!” Lillian practically shoved him out of the way in her haste to get to the other woman.
The women met halfway. They hugged each other and went through what appeared to be some sort of ritual complete with squealing, rocking from side to side, and a language he didn’t understand.
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