Jason floored the accelerator as he drove the car out onto the highway, the fastest way to Ali's headquarters. The city lights glowed against the clouded sky.
His chest tightened as he thought of Connie, bravely giving him her blessing for his mission. He hated to leave her—but it was better this way, even though it would make this mission much more pleasant if she were at his side.
He might've downplayed the risk a little for her sake. Although he would do everything in his power to get back to her if they found him out.
I won't let them. I've got to use every tool at my disposal… although they are a little rusty these days…. A little worn out and outdated. Maybe I am too old for this, too damaged…. Although if I have a chance to use my skills for good…. I have to use them. I just hope they're enough to get me out of trouble if it comes to that… if I make a fatal mistake, maybe it's a sign I should stop trying to be the agent I was. Maybe I don't have what it takes anymore… and I'll do the mission more harm than good.
Just a recon mission. I'm up for this. Although… it is Yavesh. And Ali… the Hawk.
He exited off the expressway and parked a block away from Ali's electronics headquarters. Some bushes obscured part of his car, but he could still see out the windshield. Light spilled out of the high broad front windows onto the street, illuminating the statue of a man in holding a phone.
Jason took out his spyglasses, glasses that had binocular capabilities and nightvision. They were inconspicuous, so even if he were caught, it would take careful analysis to figure out they weren't normal glasses.
A few cars pulled away from the building. Discreetly, he watched them; none of them were Ali as far as he could tell. Then, a limo drove out of the parking lot. He couldn't see in the back through the tinted windows. Could it be Ali? Or would Ali go in another car? If it was, he didn't want to miss the chance.
As soon as the limo drove to the end of the block, Jason spun his car around and followed it as it sped out onto the highway. He made sure to usually keep a few cars in between while still keeping an eye on them. A few times, though, it almost disappeared too far ahead—Jason had to pass a few cars and almost missed it because its blackness blended into the night.
Finally he settled into an easy pace along the road south away from Rakima. An ache squeezed Jason's heart as he drove further and further away, leaving Connie far behind. An impossible amount of space between them, when all he wanted was to be as close to her as possible. But at least she was safe and secure in the palace. He was the one heading into danger—away from the one he loved, perhaps forever—
No. Don't think like that. I'll just get the intel then hand it off. What I'm best suited for now anyway. No rushing in like I used to, guns blazing…. I've learned to be more careful. It's come at a price. Back then, I could make it work, be impulsive and beat events into my favor. Well… it didn't always work. I should've been a little more cautious sometimes…. Now, I couldn't even go in the old way even if I wanted to. I tried in Paraguay…. But I was captured. I was probably losing it even before…why Akim could capture me…. And before that, I lost sight of my moral center, the beginning of all this. In a way, I deserve this. PTSD – never fully recovered, which makes my reaction times slower, which makes me jumpy at certain things…. Dulls my edge. I was in denial… but I can't be now. After how close I came to not coming back to her. And my physical wounds hold me back too… some parts of me have never healed, not in the right way. Too much scar tissue in my shoulder, too much nerve damage in my hand…. Even if I could've kept up the same level of activity for a few more years, as some are agents past 40 and beyond, these scars have made me old before my time. Which makes me wonder anew how she can love me so much….. makes me all the more determined to get back to her, whatever the cost.
His mind flashed back to earlier that day. He'd just gone to do a mundane task, take a shower, and she had exploded it into another dimension. It really wasn't fair…. But it had been amazing at the same time. Agonizingly perfect. So close yet so far… leaving a barrier between them. Ah, but so beautiful…. The water cascading over her hair, soaking it…. Plastering her shirt to her body, giving him tantalizing hints of what lay beneath…. Caressing his body and kissing him as she washed it… yet never going past a certain point… her glorious kisses on his lips as her fingers pressed hungrily into his back… the impossible ache of wanting, needing more—he had to kneel before her beauty and escape before he collapsed with longing….
His mind bounced back to before… to their first time together during their honeymoon, how she'd broken him past his self-consciousness at his scars and given him something more amazing than he could imagine….. her beauty impossibly glorious—a gift he could never deserve…
Then, the long darkness, her soul veiled from him…
Then, the return, her love blossoming again—though still shadowed with guilt she didn't deserve…. Her mind and body had needed to recover and he would wait forever for her, though hopefully not that long.
Now, drawing this out… he almost wished he hadn't suggested it. But it was for her sake. He only hoped he would not be lost beforehand. For many reasons, but to never be able to experience the fullness of her love again… to never be able to give her all she deserved….
He cut off that thought. It won't happen. I will return.
I have to think of something extra special to treat her with….
He was so immersed in his thoughts of Connie and figuring out new delights to surprise her with that he almost missed the exit as the limo pulled off onto it. Jason swerved; the car squealed.
Probably best not to think too much of her now, even though it's unbearable not to even have that amount of closeness to her…
Can't be distracted, so I can get back to her.
He followed the limo down into a valley, then up to a shining city perched on the foothills edging some low, pine studded mountains with a few craggy peaks, some of them suggesting castle ruins. The limo wound up through the trees then onto a city street. Jason kept at a distance, especially since there were few cars on the road, probably because it was past 10:30 p.m.
The deserted streets of Valhad were lined with fountains, trees, and flowers, with picturesque wooden and stone houses. He passed the city square with a large fountain in the center, drove past some stores which looked pretty high-end. Then past even fancier houses, some parks, and finally up some terraced streets to a hotel gleaming bright against the side of the hill. The Castle Hotel looked rather exclusive and included a golf course. In the distance some footlights shone on an actual castle on the side of the mountain, a blue, red, and yellow Muldavian flag waving in the wind above it.
At least it was a hotel, so it wouldn't be conspicuous for him to park in the parking lot. Although they might eventually find out he didn't intend to stay there…. Hopefully, he'd leave before anyone noticed. Just long enough to find some actionable intel….
He parked near the edge of the parking lot with a kitty-corner view of the limo. It parked near the center of the parking lot and sat idling. Jason watched without taking his eyes off of it, keeping his mind focused, though it threatened to drift because of exhaustion. I've stayed up much later than this, after much more grueling days. I might not be what I used to be, but I can still do this…
After about forty-five minutes of almost complete calm—something Jason had never been very good at handling, he admitted—another car pulled up beside the limo. It was a red sports car, some brand Jason didn't recognize, probably built in Muldavia. A man and a woman climbed out. A moment later, a black van pulled up beside the car, and several security personnel jumped out, no visible weapons, but who walked as if they could whip one out at any moment and whose bodies were weapons themselves, sleekly muscular with sharp vigilant eyes.
Jason's heart pounded. This is it.
The limo driver climbed out, and so did a few more security personnel. Then Ali stepped out and blithely walked over and shook hands with the man and the woman. Jason pressed 'record' on his spyglasses. The man was rather heavyset but he also looked strong, with cords of muscle in his arm as his hand met Ali's. The woman was tall, graceful, whip-thin, her blond hair swept up into a braid around her head, her body hinting at hidden muscle as well. She wore a red dress to match the car and high heels. Jason's heart froze; for a moment he thought it was Elena. But her face was more angular, and she looked only about in her late twenties, while Elena would be around Jason's age.
Jason rolled down the window a little; thankfully, this car had manual window cranks so he didn't have to turn it on.
"You weren't kidding," said the heavyset man in an American accent. "This place is the top of the line. Thanks for suggesting it."
"If you want premier, Valhad is the place to go," said Ali. "Muldavia may have a lot to offer in a small space, and it has many unique elements. However, if you want world-class… not many places fit the bill. We're not Lichtenstein, after all." He laughed and the man and woman laughed with him. "But this—this is one of the only hotels which are on par with your status."
"I do so love a picturesque view, and golf—well, if rain wasn't in the forecast, I would suggest we take a midnight swing. In any case, perhaps we should get down to business?"
"If by business, you mean a few drinks in the lounge."
The man laughed. "I wouldn't be averse to that. Jessica?"
The woman nodded. "I may join you for a few. But then I'll need to get prepared for tomorrow…"
"Why don't we forego the heavy business until the day after. Take a mini vacation."
"That sounds like a good idea. However, I am always on duty."
"How right you are." He pressed his hand to her back; she slid away, still keeping her demeanor professional. It looked like a basic business deal. Still, appearances could be deceiving…
"Well, shall we head inside?" said the man. "I hear a martini calling my name…."
"I'm excited to further our business relationship face-to-face. However, there is a small matter I need to take care of first."
The man looked quizzical, then headed toward the hotel, a spread of security personnel behind them, blending in with the shadows.
Ali directed his people inside as well; they didn't look too happy about it, but they obeyed. Then Ali turned, looking up toward the castle, his hand on his hip. It started to rain and drops flicked through Jason's cracked window. Ali grabbed for something in his belt—a gun— no, it was just his phone. Jason slowly slid his seat back and pretended to be asleep. Beyond the blur of his eyelashes he could see Ali stride past him, type on his phone, lean on one of the dividers at the edge of the parking lot facing the bushes and rocky hills beyond. Ali fiddled on his phone a little more then headed back toward the hotel, striding past Jason. Jason heaved a sigh of relief.
But then Ali stopped and spun back around. He looked straight at Jason and motioned to him to roll his window down. Jason thought about starting the car and speeding away, but that would be even more suspicious. He rolled down his window further and cold flecks of drizzle trickled in.
"I must say," said Ali, "I didn't expect to see you here. Are you staying at this hotel?"
"Yes, I am." Technically, he was "staying" at the hotel just by parking here.
"Looks like you couldn't wait to go inside before falling asleep." He chuckled.
"I had a long day."
"I know what you mean. Was it only this morning I met you? It feels like we've known each other much longer than that. We have a certain affinity; I felt that from the very beginning. Probably why we ended up at the same place. Hey, where is that lovely little lady you had with you this morning?"
"She's inside." Technically, she was inside—back in the palace.
"That's too bad. I would have liked to see her again. Perhaps tomorrow?"
"I'll be leaving pretty early."
"And forego the wonders this hotel has to offer? You're missing out. But your wife will stay?"
"I may be going into danger. I don't want her near that."
"Understandable. She is quite the exquisite creature."
Jason slid his seat back up, anger slicing through him. "Don't talk about her."
"Oh, I can appreciate from afar, can't I? I mean, if I were you, I'd be in that hotel with her instead of sleeping out here in the rain. You two aren't having…trouble are you?"
Jason tamped down the flare of anger. He had to keep his cool with a potential enemy. "Far from it. This is just… because I'm tired. I'm feeling better now."
"Needed to freshen up a bit—to give her the best you can offer?"
"That's none of your business."
"Hey—I get it. It's just that this hotel is quite luxurious—it has some intensifying effects, if you know what I mean. If I were you, I'd get inside and start reaping the benefits."
"I will—in a few minutes."
"Maybe I'll see you around. Say, I didn't know you wore glasses." Ali gestured to Jason's face.
Jason had to control his urge to take them off, but that would draw more attention to them. "I need them for night driving."
"Too tired to take them off?" Ali leaned in closer, a sharp spark in his eyes.
Jason took off the glasses, laid them casually on the dashboard. "So you are here for a business conference?"
"I'm expanding to America, as I told you, and we're here to hash out our first foray into the US. It's marvelously exhilarating. Especially since my contacts are not averse to mixing business with pleasure. I'm looking forward to this retreat—something I didn't fully realize I needed until now. This will be an essential meeting on many levels. A game-changer for my business." He stood straight again. "Now, I promised to have a few drinks with Mr. Herrick. I don't want to keep him waiting." He took a few steps toward the hotel. Then stopped and looked back. "Hey, before I forget. I'll be occupied with business—unless you two want to join me for drinks sometime while I'm here. I have a lead for you—it's best if it's acted on promptly. The police in Zelise have a tip about the blond man with the scar you learned about this morning, connecting him with human traffickers. If you want to follow up on it, I can give you their info and put in a good word for you."
"Well…"
"The police there could use an extra hand—they're a little overwhelmed at the moment."
"I do want to follow up on all the leads I can…."
"Good. I'll text you the number of the chief. Ah, I remember when Zelise was another little resort town—now it's rife with crime. Probably best to leave your wife behind. If you like, I can provide her with some…entertainment."
"I don't think that will be necessary."
"All right, then. I'll see you around." He gave a swift wave and strode toward the hotel without a backwards glance.
Jason sat back against his seat, willing the tension to drain from him. What exactly had just happened? Had Ali found him out and was just toying with him? Was he actually giving Jason an actionable tip? Why the veiled innuendo…. Just designed to get under Jason's skin, or was that just how he was? In any case, Jason was glad the meeting was over—that there had been no overt danger. But how much did Ali suspect? And could he trust the tip? Would it be a trap—too much of a risk to follow through? Or was it worth the risk to arrest a human trafficker? Did the police really need him?
Perhaps Markov would be interested… better than going alone…. Police in crime-ridden towns tended to have a corruption problem. The federal police might take an interest if this had a potential connection to Yavesh….
Jason's phone vibrated and he checked the message. It was from Ali and gave a phone number and several lines of info, along with a hyperlink. Jason set the phone down; he couldn't do much tonight to act on it. Should he go in and spy on Ali? He already knew Jason was there. If he knew he was being watched, he would be extra careful. As the Hawk, he was probably meticulous anyway. Such a big fish…. It was a shame to cut him loose. But with so many bodyguards… Jason probably couldn't accomplish much anyway. He'd have to figure out another way to track Ali… despite his words, it seemed like Ali wasn't particularly surprised to find him there… another reason to get out in case it still was a trap.
He started the car and drove back to Rakima. By the time he arrived, it was almost 1 a.m. The palace guards let him in and he crept back through the hallway to his room. Opened the door carefully so he wouldn't wake Connie. But to his surprise, she was working on the computer, apparently with Eugene's program. When he stepped inside, she jumped up and flung her arms around him. "Jason!" She kissed his cheek. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"Yes…just tired." He sat down on the bed, weariness dragging on him, although her presence buoyed his spirits. She sat down next to him and twined her arm around his.
"I was so worried…. I couldn't sleep. So I looked at Eugene's program…. I had to call him again so he could explain how to work it… I think I got like two frames of a video done…. Anyway. Did you find out anything? They didn't see you?" She looked at him earnestly, the dim light illuminating slices of green in her eyes.
"Well…" He took a deep breath. "Ali found me out somehow. But he didn't do much about it." He relayed the evening to her, not leaving out the parts about how much he missed her.
Connie shivered. "He gives me the creeps. Something's definitely up with him. But—at least he… didn't do anything to you."
"Maybe he couldn't do much… it was a public space. Although it was pretty dark in the parking lot… I don't know if I can possibly trust a tip from him. Maybe it's better I leave it to the professionals."
"Probably."
"On the other hand… if there's a chance it can lead to real intel…. I don't know. I'm just tired, can't think straight…."
"Then we'd better go to bed. I think… I can actually sleep, now that you're back."
He slid his hand into her hair gently. "I'd better stick to missions with low risk…. Then you can come with. It's not like I did much good tonight…. I'm afraid I'm not much of an asset anymore. I might make a misstep—too much of a chance for failure. Which won't do anyone any good, including the kids…. Background investigation is probably best. That way I can be with you. Stick to what I'm good at. It still holds risk, because it involves a dangerous organization… but it's acceptable because it means saving people. Just keeping a balance, staying behind the front lines… walking a fine line between what I'm capable of and what is needed…."
She slid her hand into his hair, swept some of it back from his forehead, delicately tracing his ear. "I'm not saying I don't agree with you. I don't want you to go too far… it's probably too much for any one person to take on. But I don't know what you mean by not being good at it anymore."
"I just think…. I'm getting too old for this business."
"You're not old, Jason!"
"I mean—well, I am getting older. My next birthday will be… I don't want to think about it. But lots of people are still agents, and good ones, past that…. It's just that I—what I've gone through. Someone else might've been able to handle it. It's worn me down. My mind and body can't take what it used to…. I'm probably a lot older than my actual age." He rubbed his left shoulder, which had never been the same since its severe dislocation when he'd been hung by it during Gray's first interrogation.
"Well, you sure don't look old." She stood up, then leaned down and kissed his shoulder. "think you can do a lot still. But I get…why you'd feel that. How much pain you went through—more than most people do in their whole lives." She gently picked up his hand, kissed where the nail scars were. Part of his skin couldn't feel her lips because of the nerve damage. Still, her kiss chased away the echoes of pain that always hit him every time he looked at his scars…
She laid his hand gently down and kissed his cheek, the most visible scar. "I wish I could make you feel better…."
"When I'm with you—I feel young. I feel like—age doesn't exist, pain doesn't exist—or at least, doesn't matter. That's one reason why I want to be with you all the time. You're so beautiful… so amazing in every way, my love." He reached for her and she sat down beside him. Wrapped her arm around his back, clasped his hand, her fingers tracing his palm delicately, sending bright shivers through him.
"You're so beautiful, Jason…." She caught his eyes, desire burning deep in them. "Getting to know your heart… how you're even more wonderful than I thought…. How understanding you are of me, even when I'm at my worst… and how much you give without taking… and how hard you fight for justice— Jason, the more I get to know you, the more beautiful you are, so— how old you are won't matter. Except I'll just love you even more." Her hand slid up his back to his neck, swirling among the short hair there, sending firebolts sleeting through him. She kissed the edge of his jaw. Tremors danced through his body. Her hand dipped beneath his shirt, playing over the top vertebrae of his spine.
"But…I'm scarred…. damaged."
"That doesn't matter. Except it hurt you…. it's just part of how glorious you are. How you endured that pain… overcome it…. Please don't think you're any less because of that. I wish you hadn't gotten hurt. But the scars are part of you—so I love them. I just want to kiss you all over." She kissed his temple, near his ear. He had to fight to control his breaths, though he trembled to be nearer to her—but she had to take the lead. Could she want him—want this, now? All exhaustion fled from him at the thought.
But she pulled away, leaving just echoes of her touch dancing over his skin, flaring hot spots over his body. Every fiber of his being longed for more of her…. But she stood, silhouetted against the window, faint blue light illuminating her. She wrapped her arms around herself; she was trembling too. But she walked over and turned out the light and then slid in bed, underneath the covers.
Connie… why do this to me
But of course… it was the game he had started. For her sake. She always came first, no matter how deeply he wanted her. A pang hit him that she didn't want him…. But that was irrational, borne from his need. She was just good at this game, good at self-control despite her desire…. And it would be better, he admitted, if they were at a fresher state, and after he had some time to think of something extra special to surprise her with…
He lay down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. Her hand trembled as it crept over his to press tightly there as if she never wanted to let go. But soon her breaths evened and she was asleep, leaving him to lie awake in the dark, her warm form clasped to him, his thoughts racing from the events of the day…. of her incredible self. He wracked his brain to figure out what she would like…. But he couldn't think of anything particularly special. Just loving her the way he always had…. Perhaps that would be enough. She was always, always enough… But, consumed by love, he longed to give her something more—anything, whether it was physical or some act of service or a gift…. Had he even figured out her love language…? They hadn't discussed that yet….
Sleep eventually claimed him as his mind still searched for an answer.
Windswept dreams…. A storm raging… Connie on the edge of a sea cliff—he reached for her, almost grasped her hand—she screamed as she was torn away-
He gasped awake. His phone was buzzing on his nightstand. He snatched it up, hoping he didn't wake her. It was still dark out—who could be calling now. But then he realized it was raining, and the clock said 7:45. Still a little early after the late night…. He pressed accept.
"Good afternoon," said Sierra. "Or should I say, good morning. I'm doubling up my tasks, having lunch at a nice little Manila café. I do like my time in the Philippines when I come here, at least, in the better districts…. though it is monsooning at the moment…"
"It is here, too." The pounding rain reminded him of his dream… he shrugged off the last shreds of it, denying it any power in daylight. "How's the investigation going?"
"Let me tell you about the more solid development first. It concerns your nephew."
Jason's heart jolted. "What? Did you find him?"
"In a manner of speaking. We found his location. But it may be difficult to extract him…."
"He's been captured?"
"By the police. For drug trafficking."
"Oh." His heart sank. Somehow, he had never thought Jerry's son would sink to that level. Even though he'd already betrayed his family… what kind of man was he? Do we even want to contact someone so debased? He probably wants nothing to do with us anyway….
But then…he was family. He was in despair—maybe he needed a lifeline. Maybe he needed forgiveness. To block him off would do no good… if there was a chance he could be saved, they had to try.
"Your father is heading to the prison as we speak," said Sierra. "He's planning to use some of his contacts to see if Tam can perhaps get a lighter sentence and use his funds to get him out on bail. Considering his background, he might refuse, or he might take the offer and run. We'll see more of what he's like when we're face to face."
"Do you know the specifics of the charges?"
"The offense was relatively minor, it seems. But he has committed several similar offenses in the past. It looks like small-time stuff—probably simple tasks to pay off his suppliers for a drug habit."
"So he's an addict."
"Looks like it. From what I've been able to piece together from his past, it's been a steady downward progression. Kicked out of his country, his wife leaving him, not being able to integrate well… it's taken its toll and he's latched onto drugs to cope. Only—drugs just make it worse. People never factor that in before they start… or it's part of a self-destructive streak. Something I'm…more familiar with than I'd like to admit. In jail for a longer sentence, seems like he's close to rock-bottom. Who I'm really sorry for is his daughter. The upheaval she's had to deal with—along with a father who can't take care of her. Whit's getting his address at the police station; as soon as he finds it, I'm heading to the house to check on the girl."
"She…wouldn't be addicted too?"
"That's always the possibility. Drug abusers aren't always the most attentive of parents. I've seen so many like this…. Little girls out on the streets because their parents can't take care of them. Guess where they end up. Could've been my origin, who knows. The earliest memory I have is snatching food from a street vendor… my parents aren't even an image in my mind, except the thousands of pictures I've imagined through my life. And of course…." She took a deep breath. "You know where I ended up. I want to protect this little girl from the same fate. And like me…she has mixed heritage. The world can be especially cruel to children like that. If there's anything I can possibly to do help her—well. I suppose I feel a special affinity with her for these reasons. And because she's a relative of yours. Though I wouldn't need more motivation other than her being an innocent child.
"I see him everywhere. I see his face on the streets…. I know they're just phantoms. But once I confront actual traffickers…. I don't know if I'll be able to control myself…. To not just rip them apart before I'm aware of what I'm doing…. Perhaps…. If I tell your father… I can drain out some of this anger before it consumes me….. though I'm not sure I want to. That's my problem, that's part of why I'm avoiding the subject, I think. Other than, you know. The shame of it."
"My father would never shame you for that."
"I didn't think so. But I can't help but feel it myself. I tried to keep detached from it. But now…it's harder to avoid, looking the monster in the face."
"I can only imagine. How you would bear all the burden of the shame that should be loaded onto the attackers."
"That's why I need to give them the empathy they never had—like I did with Gray. A pale semblance of justice, but one that needs to be dealt— try to rectify the eternal imbalance. It's so ravenous within me—it overclouds everything else, eclipses the faces of the other girls. I don't want to deny those girls justice by letting my emotions take over and make me make a fatal error. It feels like… like there's a nuclear bomb inside me, and the core rods are heating, and when I catch the traffickers, it'll explode—and I will obliterate them. They'll be vaporized and all the little girls will be safe forever."
"You might take out the innocent… and yourself."
"I feel like I will automatically spare the innocent… which may not include myself any longer. I am willing to give my life if it destroys them. Although if there are any left, I don't want to leave this plane yet. Realistically though… the part of me that's still an agent, not a time bomb—it's better for me to keep a cool head. A bomb is too indiscriminately destructive. I need to make precision strikes. If I tell your father… I might siphon off some of that destructive energy. Because it's being fed by…being shoved below the surface for so many years, gathering pressure…. You'd never know a volcano was brewing beneath… even I didn't know. Part of me wants to let loose this power, because the more I have, the more traffickers will be killed. I have a feeling your father wouldn't approve of such a method."
"Dad isn't a big fan of revenge."
"Oh, I know the method is wrong…. Still… I feel an inexorable attraction to it… Besides, why not revenge? Don't I deserve it? I'm not entirely clear on the difference between revenge and justice, although I am a novice on the subject. I didn't analyze how I saw the face of my abuser in all of my targets…. Just let it fuel my actions without letting them control me. Perhaps I should go back to who I was on the surface…. then I wouldn't have to face this pain. But I feel that I'm past a point of no return, besides, now I'm facing the victims, and I couldn't do that before, because they were too close to me. How does the girl I was not deserve justice just as much as they do?"
"Well… I'm not sure if I see the dividing line clearly between revenge and justice either. There is an imbalance. One that can never be repaid. Revenge seems more personal… and when it's a real injury, getting someone back is a form of justice. But that's the problem. It can never be repaid—you can never get back what you lost. That empty space…. No matter what you do, it can never be filled. You can never erase your scars. You'll always carry the pain…. You can never hurt the one who hurt you enough. You'll always feel a bit of emptiness…. Even if you tortured him endlessly. I think…. There needs to be punishment, and there needs to be repayment, if possible. But…what helped me was…not revenge. Remember what happened in the cellar? Just before you knocked me out?"
She laughed mirthlessly. "You forgave him. You set him free. You're suggesting I let the traffickers go?"
"They need to be in prison so they can't hurt anyone else. Gray was the one who had hurt me. I hurt him but—it was just adding to both our pain. I had to make up for that…. since you were there, it was more a gesture to let him know than anything. Something beyond just—telling him I forgave him. It was up to someone else what they did with him."
"I'm glad I was able to trap him so he couldn't hurt you again."
"I'm not saying it's not good he was taken in. I mean—forgiving him didn't take away all my pain either. But it took away the pain that hatred was giving me. I didn't even realize how it was poisoning everything I touched… and I'm so glad that, even though I was still suffering, I forgave Gray before my wedding. It would have weighed me down, darkened my life with Connie before it started…. Forgiveness wasn't easy and sometimes I still…catch myself hating him. But that day was a start."
"I could never forgive my abuser. And in any case, it's a moot point, because he's dead."
"But your hatred… it's still driving you toward the others…"
"Anger fuels my desire for justice."
"You can still get justice. Hatred is the basis for revenge—that's the difference. And hatred is never a good foundation for anything."
"I'll never understand how you could forgive him."
"Only by God's grace."
"Well, then. That's the difference between us. God, if there is one, has no part of my thoughts."
"Maybe now is the time—"
"No. I'm not going there, Jason. You can't suggest to me that God can somehow make it better, after he either caused it or turned a blind eye to it. And you cannot suggest to me that I can forgive my enemy. Maybe you can—despite how horrific it was, it definitely was not to the extent I experienced torture. So come back to me when you've been violated repeatedly, after unspeakable things are done to you, after you're beaten brutally for trying to escape the only way you can—using a piece of broken glass to end your suffering." Her breaths rasped, trembling, into the speaker.
"Sierra…. I would never…. I'm just giving you my experience, and it's nothing compared to yours. I just… if it was such a burden to me…. And it helped me to forgive…."
"I get it, Jason, and thank you for what you're trying to do. But there's a limit to what I can do. To what I can consider. I'm sorry. I don't mean to use my experience as a weapon, of all things. And I certainly hope something similar never happens to you. I would only wish that on my worst enemy—him. Aghh, I can't even say his name. That's the hold he still has over me… I do have to deal with this, in my own way, in my own time. I suppose it's good for me to face this, too…. To not go through my life not dealing with it. Perhaps it will make me a better agent if I learn to balance my passion with prudence….
"Anyway. There isn't much to tell concerning the human trafficking investigation… I've run into a dead end tracking the shipping container, as you did early on with the flight to Muldavia. Now I'm haunting the darker parts of Manila…. Considering going further afield. Focusing a large part of my efforts on the online trade, because that's rampant in the Philippines. I'm looking at places that specialize in the exotic, because that's where someone like Ben would market best… I do hate thinking in traffickers' terms, but there's also a value in retaining some detachment. It's not as easy to stay detached when I view the videos of the slaves…. I'm not who I became anymore, I'm that child in that room, I can feel the… the whip, the knife… the ropes… the devices and… his weight crushing me…. And—well. I'm just glad your father contacted a friend who sent me an ingenious program so I don't have to view the figures anymore, just the background. Though I wish I were strong enough… then I could find more clues…"
"I don't know how anyone decent can stand watching it… but with me…. They….had a whip—"
"Oh—I didn't think of that. It's not surprising it hit hard. I'm sorry, Jason."
"I couldn't get past it. At least—I have the same program. So I'll be able to look for them in my spare time."
"I am going to pause the videos as they start—see if anyone reveals part of their identity. I'll keep a catalogue of their faces. Then if I meet them—they'll be sorry they ever crossed paths with me. That they ever looked at a child wrong."
"You won't—just mete out your own justice—"
"As a freelancer, I'm not entirely bound by the law. I've seen how much the law falls short. How often it causes injustice rather than supports the victims. If anything, I know better than the law. And I'm better equipped to carry it out."
"I've seen that too. But if it's only justice, no path for mercy—"
"Mercy! On these scumbags! They don't deserve it."
"I mean, that's the definition of mercy. That they don't deserve it. Gray didn't. But mercy can be a path to redemption—"
"Ha!" Her laugh rang in his ears. "Redemption? Those things are irredeemable."
"They probably are. But if there's a chance to turn the person around, makes them a force for good…. Revenge doesn't leave a path for that."
"I understand you when you spoke of rejecting revenge, at least your experience of it. But if Gray can't be redeemed, then the traffickers certainly can't. Somehow, I can't picture Gray reforming."
"Well…he isn't who he used to be, either. Do you…know what Vivian did to him?"
"No—I don't concern myself with my targets after I deliver them. And I certainly didn't have any reservations about delivering Gray—he deserved everything he got."
"I… I wouldn't wish…that on anyone." He didn't want to come right out and say it, but he also wanted to help her see the fallout of what she'd done.
She cleared her throat. "You're not saying—that Vivian—"
Jason sighed. He didn't want to reveal Gray's secret, but perhaps in this case an exception was warranted, since Sierra was involved. She knew more than most what Gray had gone through. Maybe it would help her see him in a different light. And see that even Gray wasn't beyond redemption… at the very least, not beyond sympathy. "She sent in some convicts in to…."
"I can't say he deserved that…. it probably wouldn't be repayment in kind. Somehow, despite me associating him with my abuser, he doesn't seem the type. At least—not for any personal reasons, but I wouldn't put anything past him if it came to breaking someone."
"Vivian wanted to make him suffer for killing the man she loved."
"Hm. That's a bit psycho…. But who am I to judge. I've never gotten close enough to anyone to experience grief…. I don't know to what lengths it can drive you. Besides, I'm not losing any sleep over a psychopath like Gray. Maybe the punishment was a bit…extreme. But if he hadn't killed that man, hadn't tortured you—he wouldn't have gotten where he did. I'm glad I took him down—it was worth it. It was up to my employer what she did with him after that. If I'd known what would have happened…I still would have delivered him to her. Because he had to be taken down or taken out."
"Maybe…. I don't know. I'm glad he's not dead. But to kill him would have been a mercy compared to…."
"What, Jason. Are you trying to make me feel guilty? Or are you trying to make me empathize with him? Whatever happened to him, I can pretty much guarantee I experienced worse. I can't even face most of it directly, not if I don't want to break down. A past target doesn't matter to me. Not now that I've accomplished my mission. I'm only mystified that you would defend him. But then, your faith is alien to me."
"I'm just showing you where he's coming from. He was… cutting himself, to try to escape the pain. He's not the defiant ruthless agent he was."
"I'm not saying it should have happened…. But at the same time, perhaps he needed breaking. Show he wasn't the superior being he thought he was."
Jason's mind resisted this interpretation. Although, something had needed to happen—something serious. Something in him had to break in order to build back up into something better. But it was far from a done deal…. Breaking didn't mean your new form would be a better one, and it might mean you didn't survive…Gray almost hadn't….
"He's been working with us on an…aspect of the investigation."
"Willingly?"
"Not exactly. He's…forced to work with the Agency. Or…they'll give him back to the CIA. Back to Vivian."
"Oh." Her voice took on a tone of surprised dismay. "That's…particularly diabolical. It's systemic—not just for vengeance. On one level, I can appreciate that amount of cold-bloodedness in pursuit of a cause. On another level—threatening someone with rape, making them a sort of slave—it's barbaric. Not befitting a US government agency."
"They justify it by saying that Gray is a high asset."
"How much of an asset can he be, after such trauma?"
"He's trying to work past it—"
"I know what that's like. So soon after— The mission is in jeopardy, and so is he."
"He's undercover."
"That amount of pressure? He'd have to be superhuman. It took me years to build up my armor. He might not have experienced the same, but— sexual assault does something to you. It's very…insidious. It can break you apart—you might think you're fine, you've dealt with it. And then you unravel in unexpected ways. Someone that strong, brought down by that—I can pretty much guarantee you there are cracks in his armor. It's very irresponsible to put anyone in that position undercover."
"It's inevitable he'll collapse?"
"He needs… either lots of support, lots of time, or both. You can't just…jump back into the fray."
In hindsight, it made sense how Tasha hadn't been up to a new mission until almost a year after the Iran one where she was captured…. "He has some support at least. My friend Tasha has helped him."
"That might make a difference in his success potential. Still… I wouldn't put his chance of getting out of this alive at more than—twenty-five percent."
"That low?"
"I've been where he is. I've had the time…the support. I've been able to build up my armor over the scars. And we're roughly on the same skill level, with different advantages and disadvantages. He thought he was invincible. I knew what it was like to be vulnerable. Though I might be a time bomb too, because I ignored it after I recovered sufficiently, his pride has been irrevocably shaken. He doesn't have the experience to deal with being vulnerable. His scars are still raw wounds… and any bad actor will be able to smell blood a mile away."
"So—he should get out of there."
"Probably."
"And Tasha—I could contact them, but it would jeopardize their mission."
"Unless you have a concrete way to help, probably not worth risking. Hopefully, what shreds of freelance agent he can weave together will be enough to pull him through. He wouldn't have a chance without his supporter. I should know." She sighed. "Without my mentor, I would never have survived to adulthood.
"Hmm… Against my will—I'm feeling a spark of empathy for Gray. I don't understand why you'd have sympathy in the first place… but if you can forgive him, maybe I can. He just knocked me out and broke my rib. You—well. I saw what he did.
"I don't know—it was the beginning, that time with you. The cracks appeared in my armor—the ones that were there all along, beneath the surface. I felt—a kinship with you, somehow. Because you were an agent. Sympathy for your wounds. It's why I hurt him the way I did. It's why I told you what happened to me…. Maybe I…convinced myself I saw my enemy in him, when I really saw myself. He may be a psychopath, but we… aren't really so different. And is using your empathy to hurt others any better than feeling no empathy at all? Perhaps it's worse. I don't know. I'm just—losing some of my moorings. Unraveling. Another thing I have in common with him—being an agent, a superior one, and then—collapsing. For different reasons, but all knotted around a common nexus—you. You and that infernal house… it's always a house. A place of healing or pain…. Or both….
"Anyway. I'm done with lunch and past time I get going. I just wanted to feed you that little update. So it's not a complete surprise when your father calls…. it may be a disappointment, so steel yourself for that. Tam might not want to have anything to do with you."
"I hope he lets us build a bridge, rather than a wall."
"I'm not going to let Tam take no for an answer, unless I find he's totally a lost cause. Something tells me your father will never believe that. Even I'm not a lost cause to him." She laughed. "That kind of faith—you and your father have. I suppose it does have a certain appeal. I can't understand it and part of me is revulsed by it. In any case, I can feel a parallel development. As I unravel, I feel myself weaving more intricate bonds with you and your family… fate has thrown us together and—perhaps it's a weakness but I'm not about to resist it. I just hope I don't explode before I can see its fruition."
"Please don't explode, Sierra."
"I'll do my best. I'll see you soon, Jason Whittaker." She hung up.
Jason lay back with a sigh onto the bed, setting the phone down on the lampstand. Part of him wanted to sink back into sleep, but he had things to do…. He flipped onto his left side, facing Connie. He swept back a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her angelic face. Longing hit him to kiss her… but he wasn't going to do it without her consent and didn't want to risk waking her up. So he drank in her features, her incredible beauty, then slowly, carefully slipped out of bed.
Since she was sleeping, he didn't bother to go into the bathroom to get dressed. He pulled on jeans and a green T-shirt, purposefully choosing Connie's favorite color. Then he turned to see her watching him, adoration on her face. "What a nice show," she said.
"I….didn't know you were awake."
"Sorry. I…just woke up…..couldn't tear myself away…."
"I'm just glad I gave you something to look at."
He sat down on the bed. She slid her fingers beneath his collar.
"Wouldn't be very practical to take it back off…"
He kissed her cheek—she grasped for him, her hands pressing against the back of his neck. Longing pierced him. But he pulled back. "I'm sorry. The mission."
"Oh—right."
"It'll be worth the wait." Well… he hoped so. Maybe best would be to improvise, feel what was best in the moment according to her reactions. He was better at improvising than planning anyway.
She smiled delightedly. "Any previews?"
"I…. don't know if I have time…"
"Could you just take off your shirt again? Until we have to leave. Unless— you could keep it off…"
"It might raise some eyebrows."
A broad smile broke over her face. "Maybe too much of a distraction… all I'd want to do is kiss you."
"It'd be hard to work."
"Tantalizing, though…. But I don't really want that… I want you all to myself."
"Always. Only yours."
He stood and slowly peeled off the shirt, rolling the fabric up over his abs, gliding his hand over his muscles, accentuating them. Then further up, his palm pressed to the broad plane over his heart, brushing the scar. He slid the shirt up over his head then let it fall to the floor. She gasped, slid to the edge of the bed. Awe and desire harmonized on her face; her green eyes scanned him appreciatively, lingering on the nuances of his torso.
He turned slowly, letting her admire his back, even the whip scars, then lay down beside her and she explored his chest, her fingers gliding lightly over his skin, thrills rippling through him. She asked him to flip over and gave him a marvelous massage, kneading out knots he hadn't known he had, infusing strength in him. His muscles tingled from her careful pressure. "Hey—do you want me to return the favor?" he said.
She sighed and stretched. "We'd better get going…. Maybe later."
Maybe that was how he could repay her… although he never could fully….. she was just too amazing.
While she got dressed, he called Markov about Ali's tip. He had to turn his back to her or risk forgetting what he was going to say. As it was, it was distracting to hear the soft rustles of clothes as she put them over where his hands longed to travel…. A sweet distraction he didn't mind, although he stumbled over his words a bit, lost his train of thought a few times. Markov told him he'd independently corroborate Ali's tip. Then they went to the breakfast room and ate some puffs filled with strawberry cream.
Jason's phone rang. It was Markov. Jason walked out to the balcony with Connie.
"The tip checks out, Jason. It seems the police have been staking out a blond man with a scar called Leon Kohl."
Jason's heart jolted before he realized why. Kohl—that had been Jason's alias in Egypt, the alias that had brought him in contact with Nadira. But of course it was only a coincidence, so he dismissed his visceral reaction. "Do you know if he's connected to Yavesh?"
"So far, we haven't been able to find a link. But we only just started looking into this. It's not likely we'll be able to devote many resources to it; that is, unless you're able to find something more concrete. There are just too many human trafficking cases, too many threads to follow. As it is, after we finally cracked him, the information Wil has given us has turned out to be more complex than we anticipated…. It's even hinting at corruption in our own forces. That's why I'm on a secure line. Since yours isn't under the same constraints, that's as much as I can reveal—it's extremely sensitive because we don't want the infiltrators to be tipped off.
"You're basically on your own for this. If you get in a tight spot, call me and I can send in a team."
"Thanks. I can't exactly expect you to follow every tip. That's what us freelancers are for…."
"If you find something that ties in with Yavesh, or seems to hint in that direction, let me know. Of course, if the police bring him in, we'll keep in touch to see if he has anything to offer and perhaps interrogate him if he holds any promise."
"Seems like you hit the jackpot with Wil."
"We're still checking out a lot of his intel. Seems like there's quite a network, but the more slippery characters know how to keep in the shadows. The higher up, the more invisible they are. Makes me think that Wil is just at their lowest level. Still, it's better than we've ever had, and we've got to follow up meticulously on each dimension of his intel."
"You are…continuing the same tactics…?"
"We're doing whatever is effective. You opened up the first crack in his façade. Gave us professionals the inroad we needed to delve deeper. Don't worry, we were very…strategic with our hits. Mainly, we just used violence to soften him up, then used more psychological methods afterwards. Most of his wounds are superficial and easily mended."
"Most?"
"A broken nose, a few broken fingers. You needn't concern yourself with the suffering of a lowlife."
"But—to turn Aleem back into Slaughterhouse—"
"This is an exception. To catch the human scum, to find the traffickers who kidnap and torture children. I'd say a trafficker's pain is more than worth that."
Jason knew he couldn't win that battle. Part of him saw the practicality of it, if not the morality… but he also couldn't totally shake the guilt of what he'd done, especially since he'd thought he was over such violence. He had a feeling recklessness would always be something of a fatal flaw, even as it was tempered with caution born of hard-won experience… "At least you're focusing on the psychological method now."
"Deep down, this man is a narcissistic coward, and we're using that to great effect. Following the supply chain. The trickiest part, besides finding Yavesh leadership, is finding the source of corruption in the force. We thought we were invincible, incorruptible—and I suppose that was a blind spot. So now we've got a special task force looking into corruption and infiltrators, which is mostly incognito, handpicked from the best of my agents.
"Well, I'd better get back to work."
"I'll let you know if I find something interesting."
"Thanks, Jason. Oh—and be careful. Zelise can be…rough."
"So I've heard."
Connie was leaning against the balcony, her hair blown back by the wind. The garden glistened with rain, but the clouds were scattering, morning sunrays flooding the rolling hills. And above the forest, a faint rainbow appeared, then glowed steadily brighter. Its crystalline iridescence framed her, testifying to her beauty. He wrapped his arm around her waist, glorying in the stunning view and reveling in her presence.
He wished he could linger here with her all day. But he had to forge forward, find the traffickers. Rescue everyone he possibly could.
So he called the Zelise lieutenant in charge of the op. She told him to come down to the station as soon as possible; they'd found a role for him to play. He asked what it was, but she said it would be better not to discuss it on the phone. He agreed, especially since the police line probably couldn't be as secure as Markov's.
"Well… I'd better get going," he said.
Connie turned away from the railing. She clasped his hand, brought it close to her heart. Tears glistened in her eyes. "Can't I go with?"
"It's supposed to be a dangerous area…"
"But you're not heading straight into danger or anything…."
"There are no guarantees."
"That's why I want to be with you. I… I know it hurts you to know I might get hurt. But it would hurt me more to know you were in pain and I couldn't be there for you. I don't want to make it harder for you to do your job or mess things up. But if there's somewhere I can wait, watch in the distance—as close as I can possibly be to you, without putting you in danger."
"Just so Yavesh doesn't get you in its sights. I…can't stand being so far from you either, like I was last night… I'll probably be on the sidelines too, since the police won't want me to get in the way. Maybe you can stay at the police station, lend a hand with a basic task or something—that would be the safest place. And you would know as soon as possible if something went wrong."
"Nothing is going to go wrong. You'll catch the traffickers and rescue the kids and come back to me. We'll go home and—start the rest of our life together." She laid a hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with fierce tears.
He laid his hand over hers, imagining a tiny life growing inside her. Maybe there was even now, who knew.
And if there were more tragedy…. They would take it as it came. And they would trust God and work it out—together. Never parted in spirit, even if the worst happened—
Danger to her was the only consideration, the only reason to be any further from her than this. He belonged to her, every cell of his being fused to hers eternally.
Apprehension tugging at his heart, her hand in his, they headed out to the car, and then sped toward Zelise.