by Ronie Kendig
“I didn’t know.” Admiral Braun almost sounded sincere. “I’m sorry. Do you know where they’re holding her?”
“No.”
“We’ll find her.”
Iskra gave a curt nod but said no more. Nobody understood the things she’d done over the years to save her daughter . . . except Leif. She didn’t know what the Neiothen were after, but she would find him. Give him a chance to answer. She owed it to him, after all he had done for her.
“Do you think your brother was among them, too?”
The admiral was asking a lot of questions. Was she blaming Iskra? She considered the stout woman for a long moment. “Mitre is coldhearted, so it is not difficult to accept that he was here.”
The colonel stormed across the hub to Iliescu. Though his words weren’t detectable, his gruff tone was clear. Iskra did fold her arms then, not caring if she telegraphed a message. Her instincts told her that officer was trouble.
“He means well,” Admiral Braun said, “but he’s the proverbial bull in the china shop. He’s going to bring this thing down if we aren’t careful.”
“What thing?” Iskra asked. “Reaper? Leif?”
“All of it.” Braun sighed and shook her head. “If you’ll excuse me, I should insert myself before the testosterone war detonates.”
* * *
Dru sat behind his desk, mostly because the blow on the head was still blurring his vision and turning his stomach. The EMT said he likely had a concussion. Seated across from him were the SECDEF and Nesto, who had somehow elevated himself above Braun.
“You failed this bunker,” Nesto said through gritted teeth. “They relied on you, and you brought the serpent right into it.”
“Don’t we have better fish to fry?” Dru asked. “Or do you seriously think blaming me is the right way to spend our time here?”
“What else would you suggest?” Nesto barked.
“How about the systems the insurgents took? The phones, laptops, tablets? What about the men they shot and wounded? I didn’t see you trying to stop or thwart them.”
“What? You think I was in on it?”
“No, I think you’re a coward who hid when the trouble started.”
“Listen, I want to hear it all,” the SECDEF said. “Start from the top. When you first noticed them coming—”
“Right.” Nesto shifted to the edge of his seat and nodded. “Of course, sir. I had been here—”
“I wasn’t speaking to you, Colonel.” The SECDEF gestured to Dru. “If you don’t mind, Director.”
Braun opened the door and stepped inside. “Sorry I’m late. Following up on some things.”
“Good timing,” Dru said. “SECDEF wants to hear what happened. We’ll need to notify Lake’s family.”
“Already working on that.”
Dru launched into a detailed explanation of how he’d detected an intrusion at home, the weapon pointing to the picture. Something registered at that moment, and he flicked his gaze to the side of his desk. The picture was gone. Hand over his mouth, he felt the blood drain from his face.
“One heck of a shock, wasn’t it, to find someone had been in your home without alerting your security or surveillance.” SECDEF nodded grimly. “He didn’t steal anything?”
Dru had to play it cool. Not overreact to the missing picture. “No, not even the weapon he could’ve easily made off with.” Instead he’d used it to make a point. And it still surprised Dru that Leif knew so much about his personal life, right down to where he’d hidden the gun.
After thirty minutes of grilling by the SECDEF and patronization by Nesto, Dru sat alone with Braun. She mentioned something about debriefing Reaper individually, and then they chatted about the useless intel they’d extracted from the operative who’d posed as the Chinese delivery guy. The Agency had taken possession of him, and if they didn’t get anything out of him, he’d be stuck in some nameless, windowless prison for the rest of his life for trying to kill their deputy director.
Dru’s thoughts kept coming back to the missing frame. At some point, Alene left him alone with his doubts and fears. Leif. The picture.
“Director.” Saito rapped on the open door. “They’re taking Cell up to the hospital to do a CAT scan, make sure the ricochet didn’t do any internal damage, but he’s stable.”
“Thank you—for stabilizing him and for updating me.”
“No problem, but Canyon deserves thanks. He stood down the Neiothen so I could get to work. Oh, and Culver is stitched up and heading home to rest.”
So that left Mercy, Iskra, and—
“Saito.”
“Hai.”
“Where’s Cell’s friend, Alisz?” Dru was on his feet
“Went with him in the ambulance.” Saito sniffed. “Kind of glad to get her out of here. Didn’t trust her.”
That shouldn’t have been allowed. She was free after having access to the bunker. Was her presence and the subsequent insertion coincidence? He needed to find out. “Find her, bring her back.”
Saito hesitated. “I thought you cleared her.”
No time to explain. “Just get her back here.”
“Okay, but isn’t searching for the Neiothen top priority? With Cell down, we need more hands—”
“Find her. We’ll handle tracking the Neiothen.”
Leg pinching with pain, Dru reached for the phone but once again thought of the picture and dropped back against his chair. He knew. Leif knew. The picture at his house that Leif had pointed the gun at? It hadn’t just been Dru in that picture. He’d been standing in front of the yacht he’d named Your Destiny. Leif had put it together and knew the picture on his desk wasn’t just about friendship. It was about protection.
“Director?”
He glanced up as Iskra entered his office. “Hey. You okay?”
“No,” she said quietly as she moved farther in. “What did he want?”
He sagged, shoving his mind away from the picture. Away from what it meant. “I don’t know. He never asked for the book or the painting—which, where are they?”
“Safe.” Her eyes were hard, uncooperative. “But I didn’t mean what he wanted from the bunker. I meant—what did he want from you? From this office? He risked the last few seconds to come back in here. Why?”
Dru couldn’t answer. Didn’t want to. That would open a can of worms he couldn’t come back from. A confession he wasn’t ready to make. “I couldn’t tell you,” he lied. “Obviously they were looking for something.”
Her lips thinned. “He found whatever he was looking for,” she said with an edge to her words. “He came in and exited fast. I am pretty sure you know what he took, because you are way too calm and collected.”
Iskra might’ve been an operative, a trained killer for Hristoff Peychinovich. She might have gained a reputation for being painfully persuasive, but there was a reason Dru Iliescu was the Deputy Director of Operations with the CIA.
“I am calm,” he said, deliberately focusing inward and slowing his heart rate, his racing thoughts, “because I’ve had an attempt on my life, a threat to my career, and Leif broke into my home. My task force”—he indicated the hub, where a sense of order was slowly returning—“was attacked, several shot, and one member is en route to the hospital.” He drew in a long breath and slowly exhaled. “If I was panicked, I’d make mistakes and invite more trouble.” He held her gaze for several long seconds. “I cannot afford more mistakes.”
Iskra had an iron will and a steel spine. Arms folded, she returned his stare and unnatural calm. “What mistakes, Director?” That she stood at the corner of his desk and didn’t take a seat told him she was positioning to dominate this conversation. “I’m really struggling to believe Leif did this in the first place, so whatever brought him here . . .” She nodded, the weight of her thoughts visible in her stooping shoulders. “It was big. And I’m going to find out.”
“Focus on finding Leif,” Dru said. “Because after what happened here, if they can definiti
vely prove he was involved, Braun and those with oversight will pull the plug, strip me of authority, and deal with him in their own way.”
“Deal with him?”
“You’re a smart woman, Miss Todorova. You know what it means.”
“Your acerbic responses tell me I’m hitting a nerve.”
“My last one, apparently.” He stood. “Time to get back to work. We need to determine which direction the Neiothen went.” Hands on his belt, he inclined his head. “Unless you feel the need to question me more?”
Irritation rippled through her features as she turned and walked to the door. Touching the handle, she looked back. “I only came in here because Leif considers you a friend. I thought that would matter to you.”
No, Leif considers me a traitor.
TWENTY-FOUR
REAPER HEADQUARTERS, MARYLAND
When Iskra walked out of the director’s office, she was more convinced than ever that Leif had found what he’d been looking for. Back in the slowly quieting hub, she spent the next hour writing what she remembered, hoping something would reveal itself. The last of the SWAT members left, taking with them the dozen military police. Lingering behind were a handful of uniforms.
Canyon joined her. “What’d he say?”
She eyed Mercy, who was working at a station. “That he did not know what the men wanted.”
“And you don’t believe him,” he said, angling his head, his all-too-perceptive gaze seeming to catalog her facial responses.
“Leif hurried into the director’s office before leaving. He wasn’t in there more than a minute before returning to vanish with the others.” She nodded in that direction. “He went in with intent and exited quickly.”
Canyon bobbed his head, looking toward the main foyer, thinking things through. “Maybe he wanted to verify the Neiothen had pulled all the director’s devices. That’d be the right amount of time to get in and out.”
Iskra bristled. “He could’ve seen that from the door.”
“Maybe he was being thorough,” Saito added, joining the conversation. “I can see Leif doing that, double-checking.”
“Since when?” Mercy scoffed, sauntering over with a grim expression. “Leif never babysat anyone. He trusted them to do their jobs so he could do his.”
Iskra agreed. “No, he didn’t go in there to be thorough. Think about it—they came in here and did what, steal computers?”
“Computers,” Mercy said, “that will be shut down and remotely wiped as soon as they’re powered up. The Agency won’t allow anyone to get a lick of information off them, if those guys have any say.” She nodded to the suits still working on the main systems at the central hub.
“Leif had to have known that,” Iskra muttered. “They knew how to get in here. Surely they would know there were protocols for the computers.”
“Maybe the systems were a ruse,” Canyon offered, scratching his jaw. “They come in, the guys run through snatching computers and phones.”
Saito palmed his bandaged leg. “And we watch them, concerned.”
“So,” Baddar said, taking up a stance behind Mercy, “what did we miss?”
“I am not sure we missed anything,” Iskra said quietly. “I believe they came here because of what I stole from Leif in Germany.”
Canyon scowled. “You stole from him?”
Guilt tugged at her conscience. “Not my best moment, but in my defense, I thought he was attacking me in an attempt to get away. He drew a gun. I saw he had a satchel and took it—only realizing afterward that he was protecting me from other gunmen. I do not know who they were.”
“That satchel contained the Book of the Wars,” Mercy said.
“And a small bifold painting.”
“Why’d you take them?” Canyon asked.
“Because I thought if Leif had gone to the dark side, which seemed to be the case when he pulled a gun on me—”
“Which you just admitted was a misread of the situation.”
She nodded. “I thought he had been activated like the other Neiothen, so I could not trust him with the Book of the Wars. And Reaper needed it to learn about and stop the last war. And I hoped taking it would . . . force him to come back to me.”
“Which it did,” Canyon said with an appreciative look. “Perfectly.”
Her heart stuttered at the truth of that.
“But we have the scans of the book, don’t we?” Mercy asked. “Sorry, I’m just trying to understand why we even care about the actual book anymore.”
“We all are,” Saito said. “This is really confusing and messed up. Including that Vogt chick. Is anyone besides me concerned?”
“Any time a new element is introduced, skepticism is natural,” Canyon said. “Including the addition of me.”
“Taking the satchel seemed right at the time,” Iskra said, “but you have a point. I do not know why we need the book when we have the scans.”
“Scans aren’t good enough,” Harden said, appearing from the side-access tunnel with a slow grin. “Sorry. I wanted to come when I heard about the incident, and Dru informed me earlier that you had the book hidden somewhere.” He stared at them and seemed to understand they all saw him as an outsider. “Listen, the scans were great, but with the actual book, we can do testing. We can use special equipment to see if more text is hidden in the leaves. Nuances show up with the right tools.”
“But it doesn’t change the prophecy, right?” Mercy asked. “So why would Leif come back for that?”
“I think it was the painting he wanted,” Iskra said. “He stole it from Hermanns’ estate before the Taipei mission, but I did not think it important—odd, yes, but I was distracted by my brother.” She shoved her hair from her face with a sigh. “Regardless, I shouldn’t have taken the satchel, and now I have irrevocably damaged my relationship with Leif.” Her throat felt raw. “He was my only hope to get Taissia back.”
Canyon touched her shoulder. “Don’t give up on Leif so easily. He’s a Metcalfe. We know the right road, even if it takes us a while to travel it. And we’ll find your daughter, one way or another.”
The desperation of that thought, of knowing another day had gone by with her daughter in dangerous hands, made her stomach roil. “But I do not think that will happen without Leif. They must have taken her to draw him out.”
“Can we back this landslide nightmare up to Vogt again?” Saito said, narrowing his eyes at Mercy. “She seemed to know a lot about what you were doing. And called you by a different name.”
Mercy tightened her lips.
“No response?” Saito challenged.
“No,” Mercy said, then sighed. “Not until I speak with Dru.”
“I hear the Neiothen say ‘Ossi,’” Baddar said. “That is the name for Runt in Taipei, yes?”
“It was,” Iskra said. “And I believe it was Leif who went into the director’s office just before they left.” She felt like she was beating a dead horse. Maybe she should just let it go.
“Did Iliescu say anything was missing?” Saito asked.
“He said he couldn’t tell.”
Saito sniffed. “Have you ever known the director to miss a detail?”
This almost sounded like they believed her. Iskra peered over Canyon’s shoulder at the director’s office. “There are too many things happening lately that are not adding up.”
“There was that attempt on his life,” Mercy commented. “That Chinese food delivery gone wrong.”
“Right,” Saito said, “and they locked that guy in the tank.” His brow knotted in confusion. “I don’t think I ever heard what happened to him.”
“CIA took him,” Mercy said.
“So y’all think that’s connected to this?” Canyon asked. “To the Neiothen?”
“We never got read in,” Saito said. “Maybe we should ask.”
“Excuse me!” Nesto’s voice boomed through the bunker. “Anyone here actually doing any work? Anyone know where these guys went when they left the bunk
er?”
Mercy whirled around. “Sorry, but that’s Cell’s specialty, and since he’s in the hospital, we just—”
“I don’t care what you were just doing,” Nesto barked, crowding into their space. “You’ve got hacking skills, Miss Maddox, so stop pussyfooting around.” His gaze blazed, red rising through his complexion. “You’ve all had enough time to sit around and whine about what happened. Now find out where those men went. Run surveillance. Hop security feeds. Find them! I want IDs on each and every one.”
“IDs?” Canyon straightened and unfolded his arms. Challenge in his posture and tone. “You recall they wore balaclavas and voice-masking devices?”
Nesto shouldered into Canyon, who held his own. They were two very evenly matched men, except one had control of his temper. “Are those excuses you’re sending my way, soldier?”
“Just facts. Facts that make it pretty impossible, unless you have software that can see through tac gear, to do what you’re asking. But if you have that tech, it’d be helpful to these operators, who would very much like to find and retrieve one of their own.”
“That your way of saying Metcalfe was involved?”
“That’s my way of saying we want him back. Wherever he is.”
Nesto’s fury colored his cheeks again. “Then—”
“Colonel,” Admiral Braun called from outside her office. “Let’s talk.”
Iskra tried to hide the smile that crept onto her face, watching Nesto do his best to save face and extract himself from the confrontation he’d started. The irony was that he’d tried to ply information from Canyon, but the former Green Beret had a defiant streak like his brother’s and hadn’t given an inch.
“Was that necessary?” Nesto’s growl snuck past Braun’s office walls. “I was—”
“I know very well what you were doing, and while I may have agreed to your temporary assignment here, I will not allow you to tear down a team that is doing their darndest to disrupt ArC’s influence and efforts.”
Canyon rolled around with a grin.
Saito sniggered. “You love ticking him off.”
“One of life’s finer pleasures.” Canyon nodded to Iskra. “So the book and painting?”
