Chapter 13

Two days later

Ibiza, Spain

The music throbbed and pulsed, like the veins on his forehead.

It was so loud he couldn't speak. Or think.

Bodies bobbed in unison around him, like a giant undulating wave, occasionally interspersed with someone bobbing out of rhythm, like a fish flailing in water, until he or she was brought back into the giant uniform wave.

"Isn't this great?" Helen mouthed. Or at least that's what he thought she was saying.

It wasn't, Dimitri Marick thought. Helen looking lovely in a short, strapless blue dress that matched the blue of her eyes, that was nice. The rest not so much.

The night before he'd impressed himself by keeping up both in dancing and drinking with those less than half his age. But a second night was asking for trouble.

He put his hand on Helen's lower back and nudged her away from the crowd. Away from the tanned young man who'd been dancing more intimately with her than he cared. Dimitri glared at him.

She looked disappointed. "Dimi! We had a prime spot by the DJ!"

The DJ in question was far enough from them now that he could hear her and no longer had to lip read. "Sweetheart...I can't. The music is so loud I'm sure mainland Spain can hear it."

Helen laughed. "You had a good time last night, didn't you?"

It was true he did. It had been like a dare. Like bungee jumping. His most vivid memory of the night before hadn't been the music, or the drinking and dancing, but holding back Helen's hair as she got sick almost as soon as they were back at the hotel.

It made him think he was a teenager on a date. And he wasn't entirely convinced it was a good feeling anymore.

"I did, but I don't want to do this every night. Do you?" Already now Dimitri was certain this evening too would end the same way it did last night and it made him shudder involuntarily.

"Dimi...you're tired, that's all." She pulled something out of her tiny purse. "Here..." she handed him a little pink pill. "This'll make you feel fabulous."

"I don't need something for a headache. I need a place where the music isn't so loud that the ground is vibrating."

Helen laughed. "It's not an aspirin, idiot. Trust me...I'm amazed you made it through last night without one."

Understanding now what she was offering him made him groan. He pushed her hand away. "Do you even know what that is?"

She smiled. "I know it's making me feel great. Stop thinking so much and take it."

"No," he said firmly. "I'm too old for party drugs." He almost added that he thought she was too. He also knew if he'd seen Andrei take this stuff in front of him, his reaction would have been a lot less kind. "I'm going to call it a night."

She was clearly disappointed. "I thought we came here to have a good time. Why are you being like this?"

"I thought we came here to have a good time too..." he said softly. "I'm going back to the hotel," he announced, louder. "I'd love it if you came with me."

"We can't leave. It's not even midnight!"

"I don't want to spend every night watching you throw up."

"Oh please..." She looked offended. "When the hell did you get so self-righteous?"

"It has nothing to do..."

"Yes, it does." She cut him off and tugged at his sweat-drenched shirt. "Come on, Dimi!" She managed a smile. "Don't make me spend the rest of the night dancing with young Spanish men."

"I'd like you to come back with me," he repeated. There was a roar of applause from the crowd. Maybe another DJ had arrived.

"He's here!" Helen's face lit up. She was gorgeous when she smiled.

But he freed himself from her grasp. "I'm going to head back."

"What is wrong with you?"

"I'd like to spend an evening with you...not you and a thousand sweaty bodies and music so loud it makes my head hurt."

"So, you want to go back to our room and flip channels on the telly like an old married couple?"

Dimitri raised his brows. He was thinking more along the lines of a good meal and good conversation, followed a night together that they might both remember the next morning. But right now, even a night in front of the television was starting to sound appealing.

"We started seeing each other because you said you wanted to have a good time again. Did that change?" She put an arm around his shoulder, offering him another smile. Letting him know she wasn't up for an argument. "I don't want that to change. It's been a lot of fun so far, Dimi."

"I'd like..." He hesitated. It was a harder question to answer than he might have thought. Especially given how foggy his thoughts felt. "I'd like it to be more than that. To spend an evening together doing, I don't know, nothing at all..."

Sometimes he'd spend hours out on the grounds at Vadsel, after a ride with Alex. Reading, dozing off under the afternoon sun, staring at the clouds, at the horses, at her...

How could something that felt so simple and natural be so impossibly hard to replicate?

Helen's smile faded. "Fine, Dimi. Act like the senior citizen that you are. No wonder your wife left you!"

Dimitri thought he might've been too tired and too inebriated for that one to hurt. Sadly he was wrong.

"'Good night," he mumbled and walked away.

He wondered whether she cared and he suddenly realized that there was a good chance that she didn't.

Kigali, Rwanda

Anna Devane walked into the large resort lobby, impressed.

The hotel where her daughter was staying at put every other building she'd seen on her ride in from the airport to shame. It was sparkling clean and had touches of unexpected opulence, like the crystal chandelier hanging high above her head.

However, after the hot, dusty ride in on the backseat of one of the motorcycle-taxis that were the preferred mode of transportation here, it was the central air-conditioning that felt like the biggest luxury of all. The heat was different here than the welcoming warmth of Rome. Here it felt heavy, moist and oppressive. Breathing alone took more effort than it should. Anna had dissected a guide book during her last two flights, and remembered reading that it was a mountainous country, with an average altitude higher than that of most nations in the world.

The heat was stifling, the air was thin...and there were refugees pouring in from a civil war to the west. Never mind the brutal genocide they had here during their own recent civil war.

Of all the countries in the world, you had to pick this one, sweetheart? Something like Nicaragua wouldn't have been enough of a challenge?

Anna wondered how Robin could stand it all day long, when she was out in the field, tending to the wounded, in medical tents in the middle of hot, crowded refugee camps. She'd always known her daughter had a strength that belied her small frame, but this kind of work called for a whole other level of grit.

My little girl's become a fighter. One who just happens to be brilliant and beautiful too.

The thought suddenly flooded her with admiration for what Robin had accomplished. Against all odds.

A sign in the lobby announced an in-house spa, offering massages and facials. Anna found a house phone next to a large, elaborately framed mirror. Much as she liked the idea of Robin staying here, it didn't make sense, she thought; that a non-profit organization like Medecins sans Frontieres would house its workers in these kind of accommodations.

She stared at herself in the mirror, pleased with the purchases she made in Rome. A simple but beautifully cut white blouse and dark linen slacks that were perfect for this weather. A thick leather belt and her large, silver Raymond Weil men's watch were the only two things more fashionable than functional about her outfit. Even the leather shoes she wore had heels low enough that she'd be able to take off in a sprint if need be.

Once an agent, always an agent.

Her black messenger purse was still the only thing she carried with her. The suitcase that had spent two nights at Fiumicino didn't make it to Kigali. It didn't surprise Anna. In fact what would surprise her at this point would be seeing it again in this lifetime.

"Robin Scorpio's room please," she told the operator, who connected her.

It rang twice before her daughter picked up on the other end. "Mom, you made it!"

Anna smiled. "Didn't I say I would?"

Robin gave her the room number and Anna made her way to the nearest elevator.

When she got off and walked towards her daughter's room, she noticed a man sitting on a chair beside the room. He got up as soon as she came near.

It was then that Anna noticed he was armed.

Anna swallowed, her throat dry. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

The guard demanded, in French, to know what she was doing here.

"Je suis...je suis sa mere."

"Avez vous preuve de votre identite?" he demanded and Anna was about to take out her wallet when Robin opened the door and explained to the guard who she was.

She looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Mom. I completely forgot he was here until I heard his voice..."

Anna walked past the guard, who apologized as well, and into the room, shutting the door behind them before taking her daughter into her arms. "Sweetheart...what the hell is going on?" Another full-length mirror at the entrance showed her that the colour had drained from her face.

"You look amazing, Mom. No one would ever guess you've spent the last three days in transit..."

Anna gave her a sombre look. "Don't change the subject." She pointed to the door. "There's an armed man guarding your room! Do you want to tell me what kind of trouble you're in?"

"Trouble?"

"I thought you were ill, that there was a problem with your protocol?"

Robin pulled her over to her bed. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, not in pyjamas or a nightgown. "Mom...let me explain. It's true, I am...I was. I couldn't refrigerate half my meds out in the field and because of it I couldn't take some of them. I got the flu and it made me sicker than it should have."

Anna eyed her. Robin looked good. Maybe a bit skinnier than last time she'd seen her, but not ill. "And you're alright now?"

"Yeah. I spent a couple of nights in a hospital here and the last two days, I've done nothing but eat and sleep. I'm much better."

Anna looked into her daughter's eyes, trying to gauge the rest of the story from them. There was still so much that didn't make sense to her. The Robin she knew wouldn't have asked her mother to come to Africa because she didn't feel well for a few days. Never mind the luxurious surroundings and the armed guard outside the door.

"You sure you're alright?" she asked, her voice softening.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm back on track with my meds and I'm hoping within a week my t-cell count will be back to normal too."

"Did all this at least convince you that working in an African refugee camp is not a good idea for someone with a compromised immune system?"

"Mom...I don't want to have this argument again."

Anna smiled a lopsided smile. "I didn't fly all this way to not have this argument. I swear, I'm going to get through your thick, stubborn skull before I leave this continent."

Robin chuckled. "We'll see..."

"So, if you don't want to talk about your health, do you want to talk about why there's an armed guard outside your room?"

Robin frowned and it looked to Anna as though that was an even less favourable topic of discussion.

Too bad, Robin. We're going there.

Anna decided to help her out. "David said you saw Sandrine Mutanga, of all people, at the market where you fainted? Does she and the WSB have anything to do with this?"

"Kind of..."

"Kind of?" Anna sighed. "Robin...you know I've been trying to get in touch with Sandrine for over a year, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"She worked with myself, Sean and Dan when we were searching for Alex and then, when were in Moscow, she suddenly disappeared from the face of the Earth. When we did find out that she'd gone back to Africa, some regional director made it very clear that both Sandrine and her partner were unreachable."

"I know."

"Her partner was the man who helped Alex get out of Faison's estate! We had all sorts of questions for him and her. What she did...it wasn't just unethical. It was...devious and calculating and for god knows what reasons! And now...a few days after you run into her, there's an armed guard on your door?"

Robin didn't say anything and her gaze had shifted to the floor.

"Sweetheart, what is going on? What are you not telling me?"

"It was an afternoon in Paris when I met Sandrine for the first time. Do you remember, Mom? You sent her over to my apartment to get some disc. Something you'd left behind."

Anna shrugged her shoulders. She couldn't exactly remember that afternoon, no. So many of those endlessly long days were a blur to her now. All of them were running on fumes then. Leah was still recovering from Faison's virus and the kind of migraines she got only on occasion these days had been a daily constant. It was a time she preferred to forget.

"Sure...I remember," she told Robin.

"When I went to look for the disc, Sandrine saw a photo we had on a bookshelf. A photo of you and me and Dad, when I was about eight years old. Sandrine picked it up and looked at it."

Anna eyed her not sure where this was going.

Robin smiled. "I thought it was weird. I mean, what would she care, right? But then I remembered that she's WSB too, so maybe she'd heard of you and Dad. Sandrine confirmed it, saying she'd heard that Dad was going to be the director of the WSB, before he died."

"And?"

"Then she asked me if I missed him."

Anna narrowed her brows, still wondering what all this had to do with the armed guard outside the door.

"I said, yes, of course all the time." Robin looked at her, with those gentle, wise-beyond-her-years eyes that Anna knew so well. "We talked a bit about you and Dad too and then I wondered what Dad would think if he knew I was studying medicine."

"You told Sandrine all that?"

"She told me he'd be proud."

Anna frowned. That might've been a nice response to a young woman missing her father but it also implied a familiarity that Sandrine had no right to.

"I thought she was just being nice back then," Robin. "You know, saying what I wanted to hear. But now when I look back...I know it was so much more than that."

Anna sighed. Maybe she was more tired and jet-lagged than she thought, or maybe her daughter really was making as little sense as it felt like. "Robin, where are you going with all this? What does that afternoon in Paris have to do with anything?"

She her daughter take a deep, cautious breath. "Mom...Sandrine knew Dad. Personally. She still does."

Anna fought back a chuckle. After a ludicrously long journey, she'd arrived in Africa to find her daughter saying things that made no sense. It was all starting to feel surreal. She was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to worry. She moved to sit down next to Robin on her giant, king-size bed. "Sweetheart, you're not making any sense."

Robin's face was dead serious now. "Mom...you couldn't find Sandrine's partner, because he didn't want to be found! Because he wasn't who you thought he was. Dad was her partner. Roger Saunders was an alias for Robert Scorpio."

Anna did laugh now. There was no other possible reaction. Because what Robin was saying was so preposterous, it didn't merit any other response.

Roger Saunders couldn't be Robert Scorpio. Never mind that Robert's life had ended in a ball of fire off the coast of Venezuela years ago. Or that the man she knew and loved more than anyone else in the world, would never have stayed away from them if he didn't.

There were simple logistics that made Robin's announcement completely absurd. Sure they'd never seen a photo of Sandrine's partner or made any sort of contact with him, but Alex did.

Roger Saunders had helped Alex escape from Alexei Estate. If he was Robert Scorpio, Alex would have told her. It was that simple.

A chill went up her spine as she remembered the last promise she'd made to her sister before she disappeared.

"I need you to do something else for me, Anna. Promise me you'll find Roger Saunders. To thank him for me. Please."

She hadn't understood her sister's request then, had gone so far as to question it. But Alex's expression had been so serious. So intense.

"Promise me that you'll look for him?"

It had felt so urgent that of course Anna had agreed. Not that she didn't want to find him as it was anyway.

"Mom...?"

Robin's face was just as serious as Alex's had been then and suddenly her urge to laugh was gone.

Her daughter gently clasped one of her hands into both of hers. "Mom..." she said softly. "It's why I asked you to come to Africa. Because...I couldn't find a way to tell you over the phone that Dad's alive."

Ibiza, Spain

Dimitri Marick went to his room and the first thing he did was take an ice cold shower and brew a cup of coffee.

It had been tempting to fall into bed, but if he did he knew he'd wake up feeling as wretched as he did this morning.

Part of him hoped that Helen had come to her senses and would have joined him by the time he stepped out of the shower. But instead he poured the coffee from the percolator in solitude.

Another part of him knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until she got back anyway. He wondered what she was doing with whom, shuddering at the thought.

He knew he had to go back outside to look for her. It was the right thing to do. But he couldn't bring himself to do it just yet.

I'm not the only one who's too old for this.

It wasn't as though he was dating a twenty-year old. In reality Helen was only a handful of years younger than Alex.

Alex.

Why don't I stop lying to myself and admit the only thing I've thought about since coming here is that damn phone call from David? It's why I humoured Helen and spent the entire night drinking and dancing yesterday. To push that stupid thought out of my mind.

He stepped out into the balcony. He could hear the music in the distance and see the lights from the concert.

It made him miss the absolute stillness of Vadsel, where the only thing you could hear at night were the crickets and the horses in the stables.

For the first time in a long time he felt so uncomfortable he wanted to crawl out of his skin. To be anywhere but here.

It was a feeling that was alien to him and he didn't know quite what to do with it. The emptiness of it all made him long for someone's company.

He set down his coffee cup and left the room, heading down the hotel corridor towards Andrei's room.

Dimitri knocked. Normally at first and then he pounded on the door with some force, knowing if Andrei was asleep it would be necessary. His son could probably sleep through a nuclear attack.

Another hotel guest stuck his head out the door in the hallway and glared at him.

"Spinnen Sie?" he yelled in German.

Dimitri raised his hand in apology. "Entschuldigung."

His son finally opened the door, looking as though he'd just jumped out of bed. "What is going on?" he demanded. "Are you crazy? Do you want me to have a heart attack?"

The sight of him made Dimitri smile. "No...I just wanted to wake you up."

"You did this," Andrei told him, yawning. "If that's all you wanted you did good. Now let me go back to sleep."

"Andrei..."

His son's expression lost its irritation and he now looked at him with something that resembled concern. "Are you okay, Dad? You look terrible."

"Thanks."

"Is something wrong with you and Helen?"

"No," he shrugged his shoulders. It was a lie. There was. He might as well admit it. "I don't know. But I don't want to talk about that."

Andrei raised a skeptical brow. "What do you want to talk about at two in the morning?"

It was a good question, Dimitri thought. There wasn't anything really. "What did you do today?" he asked Andrei.

Andrei squinted. "Can I tell you at breakfast?"

"I was just curious..."

"Are you really okay, Dad?"

Dimitri nodded. "I'll be fine."

His son was fully awake now and he sensed that Dimitri wasn't going to leave. Andrei went to grab his camera. "Here. I will show you."

Dimitri flipped through the photos on the camera, seeing trails, countryside farms and hillside views of the Mediterranean, feeling a pang of jealousy when he realized Andrei was doing exactly what he'd have liked to have done on this trip. The many pictures of horses made him grin. "Have you never seen a horse before? I'm starting to think you're obsessed."

"I like that one," Andrei told him pointing to a grey stallion.

"Eh..." Dimitri shrugged his shoulders. "They're not exactly thoroughbreds."

"You think only thoroughbreds are worth looking at?" Andrei shot back

Dimitri raised his brows. The sting in his question took him back to that miserable night at Vadsel, after he'd hosted a party to welcome Andrei into the family, attended by dozens of Andrassys and other houses of European nobility.

He'd done it all too soon, Dimitri realized afterwards. Andrei wasn't ready. He'd still thrived on pushing their every button back then and rebelling against his new home where he could. Worst of all, Alex hadn't been there to charm his guests. Called away to Paris by her sister at the last minute. After introducing him as the latest Marick, Andrei promptly shot back, in front of more than a hundred guests, that his last name was Ionescu.

That night that a few distant cousins suggested it was his own fault for adopting an "ungrateful brat" from a Romanian backwater orphanage. One whose ethnic background was a big question mark. Dimitri wasn't exactly sure what Andrei's heritage was, other than knowing his real mother was a gypsy.

"No," he answered, treading more carefully now. "It's not what I meant."

Andrei grinned letting him know he was messing with him. "But you are right that is an ugly horse." His grin got bigger. "But I like the ugly ones. They are sometimes more interesting. Like ugly people."

Dimitri laughed. It felt good to be here with him. "Agreed."

"So where is your girlfriend?" Andrei asked.

Dimitri shrugged. "I don't know. She's out there somewhere, having a good time."

"You should be with her," Andrei chided him. "There are a lot of crazy people on the beach."

"I know."

Andrei was right. Dimitri Marick was better than this. Whether or not he wanted to be out there or not was beside the point. Had Andrei done the same to his date, Dimitri would've sat him down and given him a stern lesson on what was expected of a gentleman. Or at least what he expected of his son.

Dimitri got up, knowing what he had to do.

If she doesn't want to come back, you're going to stay there with her. If you're not ready to do that, you should never have agreed to come here.

"Before you go, are you going to tell me what is bugging you?"

"David Hayward called me a couple of days ago."

Andrei eyed him and pushed himself off the bed, fully alert now. "Why?"

"He said he got a lead on Alex. That she might be in Vancouver." It wasn't exactly what he said, but then again he didn't entirely believe Hayward.

"Where?" Andrei looked shocked.

"Canada."

"Then why are you here? Why are you not going to Canada?"

"He suggested she might be living there. That she's perfectly fine."

Andrei's eyes widened and his face opened into a giant smile. "Dad! That is amazing. That's the best, best news in the world!"

Dimitri looked at him in disbelief. "Are you not the least bit perturbed by the possibility that she's been fine all this time and just decided to cut us out of her life? Without a word...without a damn reason?"

Andrei shook his head vehemently. "No...no, she was not okay in Moscow. For sure she was not. I remember in the hospital. Something happened to Alex when she was kidnapped. Something she didn't tell me and maybe didn't tell you. If she is alive, you have to go find out what happened."

Dimitri exhaled. If he'd thought Hayward had been insistent during his phone call, this was a whole other level of insistence. One he didn't quite understand. Especially from someone who was no stranger to having a mother walk out on him. His lack of resentment surprised him.

Maybe it's different when it's your wife who leaves you.

"Don't be too angry to find her," Andrei told him with a frown.

"She left us..." Dimitri repeated.

"My mother left me," Andrei told him. "She left me for her new boyfriend and dumped me in an orphanage. What Alex did...it's not the same."

Dimitri felt a guilty warmth flood his cheeks. Leave it to Andrei to put things into perspective. And to remind him that he wasn't the only one with something at stake.

"Please? Will you try to find her?"

Dimitri exhaled, knowing what the answer would be.

In truth, he wasn't too vain to think no woman would ever leave him. He didn't think quite that highly of himself. It's just that he didn't think Alex would.

"Alright...but first I'm going to find Helen and tell her that I need to leave tomorrow."

"I want to come with you when you go," Andrei told him.

Dimitri shook his head. "I need to do this alone. If I'm going to do this, let me do it my way."

Andrei bit his lip, clearly not liking the compromise. "Me, I want to see her! Even if you are angry with her and never want to see her again."

"I do want to see her," Dimitri admitted with a lopsided smile. "And I'd never keep you from her. She loves you."

Andrei crossed his arms. "I know."

Dimitri felt more sombre now, wondering if he'd been right to tell him about Hayward's call. To get his hopes up over something that might not even happen. "Do you want to come back to London with me?"

Andrei raised his brows. "No! If you don't let me come to Canada I want to stay here for the week. There are more trails I want to ride."

Dimitri pondered it, wondering if it was a good idea to leave his son in the party capital of Europe while he jetted halfway around the world. Then again, Andrei was eighteen now. An adult. When Dimitri was eighteen he'd already been shipped off to an army he didn't want to fight in. Eighteen was old enough to be a man. Besides, Andrei was on his own most of the time in England anyway.

Dimitri reached into his wallet and tossed Andrei one of his credit cards. "Use it if you need it. And please...keep an eye on Helen for me, okay?"

Andrei sighed. "This is a big job."

Dimitri smiled. "I've got faith in you."

"Now...go. Tell Helen, then get the first flight you can." Andrei got up to give him a hug. "I wish you good luck. Find Alex and tell her I miss her very much."

"I will. Promise."