Jack put the Vanquish back in gear and headed towards the Alfa.
“What are you doing?” Mati looked frantically between him and the Alfa. “We got away. Don’t go back there.”
As they got closer, the helicopter stopped firing and settled into a menacing hover behind the Alfa, bringing the car to a complete stop in the middle of the road. Jack angled Victoria across the road in front of the red car, pinning it in place.
“Stay here and get down,” Jack instructed the kids as he quickly changed mags again.
“You aren’t going out there are you?” the guy asked worriedly.
Mati was eyeing him with narrowed eyes, arms crossed over her narrow chest. “He is.” The disgust and recrimination in her tone were exactly like those in Meera’s.
Squashing his regret down, Jack got out of the car, gun at the ready.
The double thump of the Ka-52’s coaxial rotors pounded on his chest and in his ears, but he could still hear the soft rumble of the Alfa’s engine. She was ready to run, given the first chance.
Jack shot out the closest tyre, then put another bullet through the grill. After a second, steam started coiling up from under the bonnet. The engine spluttered out a moment later. With the car disabled, the Ka-52 lifted away, taking the noise and wind with it.
“Get out, hands up!” Jack trained his site on the driver’s side door. He was about to repeat the command when the door opened.
The woman who stepped out was the same one who’d met Jack and Ethan in a shopping centre carpark a year ago. She’d exchanged a lot of damning information about one of the directors of the Office for Victoria. This was also the woman whose paintings Jack had admired in Vietnam. Such beautiful creations from a person who’d been about to kill a couple of innocent kids.
“Hands up,” he said again to the blonde assassin. “Put them on the roof of the car. Legs spread.”
Expression bland under her sunglasses, she complied without argument. She wore dark-coloured tactical clothing and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, shorter than when Jack had last seen her. Wary of getting too close, Jack eased into position behind her, close enough to guarantee a kill shot if needed, far enough away she couldn’t get him with a surprise attack.
“Is it just you?” he asked, aware of the Ka-52 moving in a slow circle high above them. If it went tits up on the ground, the bird was fast enough to still move in and assist. “Or is there another one of you crazy fuckers out there?”
Jack wasn’t really expecting an answer and wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t get one. His implant pinged and a message informed him backup was two minutes away. He could keep the assassin contained for that long and use that time to learn some things.
“Do you know where Ethan is?” He kept his tone even so she didn’t know how desperate he was for the information.
She didn’t respond, didn’t move.
“Is it the Cabal? Are they the ones who sent you after my family? Why didn’t you come after me instead?”
Nothing. Apparently Ethan wasn’t the only one who clammed up in defence. Perhaps he needed a different tactic.
“I liked your paintings and I’m sorry we busted up your home.”
Getting no reaction, Jack settled into his stance, prepared to stay there the entire time it took for ground support to show up. A minute in, the woman spoke.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Then they waited in silence.
Ground support came in the form of a big silver 4WD that pulled up next to Victoria and disgorged four members of an Office strike team. One of them leaned into the car, talking to the kids, while the other three came towards Jack.
“Reardon,” Sturges said when he was close enough.
“Sturges,” Jack replied. “Nice to see you.”
The big man gave him a curt nod and instructed his two assets to secure the subject.
“Watch her,” Jack cautioned them. “She’ll be as slippery as Ethan Blade.”
The two assets nodded in acknowledgement and converged on the woman. Jack and Sturges kept her under cover all the while.
“My sister?” Jack asked as the woman was very thoroughly patted down and divested of several weapons.
“Very vocal, but safe. Two of the team are still with her. There was no disturbance at the house.”
“That’s good.” At least the Cabal hadn’t bothered to spare two of their assassins for the job. Under normal circumstances, one would have been more than enough, but anything Ethan was involved in wasn’t normal.
The man Sturges had left with the kids came over and said they needed to take the boy to the nearest hospital. Sturges told him to take the 4WD and radioed his other team members for one of them to find another vehicle and meet them here, now that the assassin was in custody. Jack went with him to help transfer the injured boy to the bigger car. Mati hovered over them the entire time and when she tried to climb into the 4WD after her friend, Jack grabbed the back of her top and held her back.
“I’m going with Tate,” she insisted.
“No, you’re staying with me.”
Now that they weren’t racing for their lives, Jack really looked at his niece. He hadn’t seen her in thirteen years, but he recognised her. Or rather, he recognised Meera as she had been at that age. The big, dark eyes; high, fine cheekbones; the shape of her jaw. She had been a bright, vibrant four-year-old when he last saw her, bouncing at Jack’s feet, demanding to be swung around and told stories and assured she was the centre of her uncle’s world.
Now, here she was. Tall and willowy with masses of dark brown hair lightening at the ends, and piercings all the way up one ear. Grown up, but still so young. Not bouncing, not laughing, but roughly pulling out of his hold and scowling at him. Oh yeah. She was Meera’s daughter all right. He’d wondered if he would feel that spark of family with her. He shouldn’t have been worried.
“I don’t know you.” She crossed her arms and clenched her jaw.
“I guess not,” he said evenly. “But I am the person who just saved your life, and that of your delinquent little friend in there.”
“Hey,” the kid protested from inside the car. Jack slammed the door shut and told the asset to get going. He had to grab Mati’s shoulder to stop her from trying to get in the car again.
“I want to go with him,” she snapped.
“And I want to keep you safe. You stay with me.”
As the asset pulled the 4WD away and left, Mati glared at Jack. “We were perfectly safe until you started Fury Road-ing us.”
Jack snorted. “Perfectly safe? You were on a bike without a tear resistant jacket and pants, gloves, or proper shoes.” He waved at the thongs on her feet. “You didn’t have a visor on your helmet, or goggles. Your little friend got hurt badly when you came off the bike.” He spoke over her protest. “And speaking of, is that delinquent even allowed to have a passenger?”
“Stop calling Tate a delinquent.”
“What else do I call the kid who took you joyriding, without permission from your mother, when you’re supposed to be in school?”
Mati crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t know anything about Tate. You don’t even know me.”
“True, but I know more than you about what’s going on here, so you will do exactly as I say. Get in the car.”
“No.”
“Get in. The car.”
“Are you going to take me to the hospital to be with Tate?”
“Sure.”
She eyed his sudden capitulation sceptically but turned with a flounce and threw herself back into the Vanquish.
“You’re not going to the hospital, are you,” Sturges murmured from behind Jack.
“No,” Jack admitted. “I might need to go once her mother is through with me, though.”
Sturges laughed and slapped him on the back. “Good luck, mate. We’ll see your latest assassin friend back to HQ. Try not to break this one out, hey?�
��
“You said we were going to the hospital.” Mati crossed her arms and slouched in the seat of the car.
They were parked outside of Meera’s home, a neat, single storey white stuccoed house with colourful roof tiles. The yard was bare of garden beds, just a single mock orange bush in the corner that had once been pruned into a ball shape but had since gone a trifle feral. It was covered in white blossoms, their citrusy scent floating across the yard and into the car.
“Maybe later.” No matter what Jack thought of Mati’s friend, she was clearly worried about him. Which said a lot about her. She had just survived an incredibly harrowing experience and she was more concerned for her friend than herself. “Your mum’s worried. You need to let her know you’re all right first.”
The curtains on the window closest to the driveway kept twitching. Probably Meera ignoring the commands of the strike team member left with her. Jack had called ahead to let them know he would be approaching in the black Aston Martin, with Mati, so Meera knew her daughter was close. If he didn’t get Mati out of the car soonish, Meera would probably take down her guard and march right outside, regardless of her safety.
“You called her,” Mati grumbled. “She knows I’m okay. I want to see Tate.”
“We’ll hear about your friend soon enough. Trust me, we know what we’re doing.”
“Why should I trust you?” She’d asked it several times already, but this time, it was sulky instead of snappy. “I don’t even know what’s going on.”
Jack heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry. This is my fault, but the worst of it’s over now. We know the threat is there, so we’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and your mum safe. Come on, let’s go inside. Meera’s going to want to yell at us both for a while. Best to get it over with.”
Mati looked at him inquisitorially, then she smiled. “You must know mum, then.”
He matched her smile. “Yeah. I guess she hasn’t really changed, huh.”
“Right. Like that’ll ever happen.”
Jack opened his door. “We can be each other’s backup.”
After an extended eyeroll, Mati got out of the car. Jack took a moment to tuck his gun into its holster, catching Mati watching him with a part wary, part fascinated expression, then he motioned her ahead of him.
“Thought I was your backup,” she muttered, but went with her head high.
Liking her courage, Jack grinned and followed her up the three steps to the front door. Leaning over her, he banged on the edge of the security screen. “Bains? It’s Reardon,” he announced loud enough to be heard inside.
After a moment, a woman in tactical wear opened the inner door. She scanned around them quickly, then flashed Mati a bright smile as she unlocked the screen for them. “Welcome home, Mati. Your mother will be happy to see you.”
Mati grumbled under her breath but slipped past the woman and disappeared inside.
“Reardon,” Bains said in the same joyful tone. “Your sister is going to be so pleased to see you too.”
Jack snorted. “I bet. Is everything here secure?”
“About as much as it can be. I’ve been organising with HQ for a safe house for them. We should be ready to transport in half an hour.”
The assassin had been caught, but Ethan had never exactly said how many of his associates there were. Who knew what else this mysterious Cabal might throw at them? Jack wasn’t going to take any chances with his family, no matter what objections Meera might have.
Meanwhile, Meera could be heard clearly chewing Mati out for ditching school. The diatribe was peppered with a few desperate “Buts” and “Mums,” yet Mati couldn’t gain any traction against Meera and stopped trying after a while. Then Meera’s words petered out and after a moment, she let out a loud sob.
Hoping the worst was over, Jack wandered into the house as Bains locked up again. There was a breezeway down the middle, with rooms off either side. He found his sister and niece in a bedroom between the front lounge room and rear kitchen. Mother and daughter were cinched tightly together in the middle of the room.
It was Meera’s room, judging by the large bed, sombre stylings and the array of photos on the dressing table by the door. Their parents at Uncle Raja’s wedding in Kerala, the same photo Jack had on his bookshelf at home. Another of their father, taken recently as Jack recognised the nursing home garden in the background. Dad was laughing and he looked like he had when Jack was younger, before Usha died and dementia had started stealing his dad away from them. Bright eyed and happy. Half out of shot was Mati, grinning back at him with an expression of wonder. A rare moment of clarity for Chris and a rarer moment for his granddaughter to see the man he once had been. Then there was a set of images showing Mati as she grew from baby to toddler to school girl and to now, pained resignation on her face as she posed with a boy in a badly fitted suit, clearly on their way to a school dance.
Jack was caught by an early picture of Mati, back when she had liked being called Tilly, in a pink tutu, face scrunched up in concentration as she balanced on her tip toes. Her arms were up, little hands clutching larger, browner fingers for support. Jack remembered that day. Those were his fingers and he’d scooted back out of the shot because Tilly had wanted to look like she was doing it on her own. She’d been four. One of the last, happy times they’d all been together. He wondered if Mati had kept up the dance lessons.
As if sensing him, Meera lifted her tear-streaked face from her daughter’s shoulder and found him. They were of a height, mother and daughter. Meera hadn’t inherited their father’s long legs, or much else of his Caucasian genes. She was Usha’s child more than Chris’s, in more than appearance.
“What the hell did you do?” she demanded.
Mati pulled out of Meera’s arms. “Mum, he—”
“No. Jack can explain.”
“Meera, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he began.
Shoving a mass of thick, dark brown hair over her shoulder, Meera scowled. “You never do and yet it happens. And someone else always pays for it.”
Jack flinched. Meera’s deadly accuracy with her verbal knives hadn’t changed.
“Mum!”
“Go wash up, Mati. This is between Jack and me.”
“But—”
“You have blood on you,” Meera pointed out. “Go wash it off.”
“He saved me.”
“Mati,” Jack tried but Meera glared him into silence.
“You’ve already lost your phone and Netflix,” Meera said ominously to Mati.
With a parting grumble, Mati left. She mouthed “sorry” as she passed Jack.
When they were alone, Jack tried a little smile at his sister. “Can we skip the yelling and get to the hug?”
Meera just stared at him, her dark eyes narrowed, arms crossed. Christ. She looked like their mother. The familiar cheekbones, mouth, and eyes. A few patches of grey woven through her hair. That same steel spine and stubbornness.
“Meera, I’m sorry.”
The eyes narrowed even further and Jack braced for impact.
Meera burst into tears.
Shit. Jack stood helpless while his strong and determined older sister cried. Her hands dropped to her sides, wringing worriedly at the hem of her top, and she gasped softly as tears streamed down her cheeks.
The Reardons weren’t a family that cried easily. The only other time Jack had seen Meera cry was when Matilda had been born. She’d been in withdrawal from Sugar at the time and it had been possible Matilda would be a Sugar Baby, with the perceived stigma and all too real eye-related issues. She hadn’t been, thankfully, but the fear of it had sent Jack into research mode, giving him the knowledge to know Ethan for one many years later.
Uncertain of what to do, Jack stepped closer and touched her arm tentatively. His own eyes were burning. Today had been close. Closer than Jack had ever wanted his family to get to being affected by his job.
“Jesus.” He pulled her into his arms.
Meera cr
ied harder and leaned on him, though she did start pummelling his back with her fists. This physical assault he could take. It was the emotional one that tore him into strips.
He’d done this. His actions, his job, his choices, had brought them here. His niece barely snatched out of the way of an assassin’s gun, his sister in his arms crying in anger, relief, confusion. Dad would be so sad to see them like this. Would he forgive Jack for something this bad if he knew? Dad had never blamed Jack for Usha’s death, unlike Meera, and had forgiven his son for his bad choices afterwards, and all the ones leading up to it. But this? This seemed even outside of Chris Reardon’s capacity of understanding.
Mati came to the bedroom doorway at one point. She’d cleaned up and, in a fresh T-shirt and jeans, looked at them in wide-eyed surprise for a moment, before turning and exaggeratedly tiptoeing away. Jack smiled.
“She’s wonderful,” he whispered.
“I know.”
As if speaking had broken the spell, Meera pulled back, then pushed him harder so he staggered back.
“You goddamn piece of shit.” She grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the bedside table and handed him a couple.
“Not arguing.” Jack scrubbed his damp cheeks.
Meera patted her face dry, blew, and scrunched the tissues into tight ball. “I knew something like this would happen one day. What happened?”
And as much as Jack wished he could confess everything to his sister, he couldn’t. Not just because there were national and international secrets to be kept, but because knowing too much would put Meera and Mati in even more danger.
“I pissed some people off through work and they decided to get back at me.” True, as far as it went. And exactly what Meera had been waiting for.
“I knew it.” Fire sparked in her eyes. “The moment you went to work for the ISO I should have changed our names. God knows I wanted to get further away from you, but—” Her eyes widened and she grabbed the front of his shirt in both fists. “Dad.”
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