“I thought you came to protect us.” I lifted the baby to my shoulder and burped him, then kissed his forehead.
“Knowing his destiny, you had to know a time would come when he would have to leave you, that he would have to risk his life to fulfill his purpose,” Rafaela said.
“And what’s my purpose?” I wanted to know. “To be alone? I’ve lost my family, my colleagues, and now my husband.”
“Yours is to love him, to teach him to love,” Rafaela said patiently. “To bear his child.”
I shook my head. “I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough,” I said, fighting tears.
“Then you must lean on the Father. You already know this,” she said. “And you are definitely not alone. You know this as well. You have a beautiful son, Lynne. A living part of the man you love. Remember that, at least, and you’ll find a way to keep going.”
70
Connor
I tried to sleep during the long flight to the UK, but found it impossible. I took my phone from my pocket. There were half a dozen text messages from Lynne:
PLEASE COME HOME.
GET THE NEXT FLIGHT BACK HERE AND WE’LL BE WAITING.
PLEASE DON’T DO THIS, CONNOR.
YOUR SON NEEDS HIS DADDY.
PLEASE, CONNOR. COME BACK TO US.
I LOVE YOU. WE LOVE YOU.
I’d lost track of how many times I considered calling her, just to hear her voice one more time. I always managed to stop myself just short of making the call, knowing it would only take one more plea from her to make me turn around and go back.
It would be so easy to get off at the layover in Athens and catch a flight back to Christchurch, to go back to everything in this world that really mattered to me. I wanted to be with my wife and son, even if it meant living in exile for the rest of our lives. I wanted to see my son grow up. I wanted the life Edward and Dante had stolen from me.
“You’ve always known the truth.” It was my mother’s voice. “I told you from the beginning, my darling, that you came to the world for a special purpose. God gave you to me, and I gave you back to Him.”
“What about Lynne? What about my son? What happens to them now?”
“God will protect them.”
Once again, I wished I could believe….
71
Caitlin
I was roused from sleep by the ringing telephone. I rolled over, groaning, and snatched the receiver off its cradle. “Hullo?” I mumbled as I pressed it to my ear, upside down at first.
“Blondie, it’s me.”
“Jack?” I was instantly alert. “What time is it?”
“You don’t want to know.” He paused. “Harry Lambert’s dead.”
I sat up in bed. “How?”
“Would you believe suicide?”
“No.” I pushed my hair away from my face. “Would you?”
“He was found at his place, supposedly having ODd on barbiturates and booze,” Jack said.
“Harry didn’t drink,” I remembered. “He had an ulcer.”
“He also had some kind of lead on the GenTech case.”
“Meet me at Reagan National,” I said.
“I’m already on my way.”
“The official story is that Rhys-Williams also committed suicide,” I told Jack when we picked up the rental vehicle at the airport in London. “However, one officer I spoke with told me, strictly off the record, that he was the one who found the body. And his hands were indeed tied behind his back.”
Jack grinned. “Hmm…think foul play was involved?”
“According to Scotland Yard, Andrew Stewart was spotted at a hotel in Kensington,” I said as I buckled my seatbelt. “You talk to the police about Rhys-Williams. I’ll see what I can find out about Stewart.”
72
Connor
I checked into a hotel upon my arrival. I made some calls—I wasn’t going to simply surrender myself to the authorities without legal counsel. I scheduled an appointment with a solicitor who came highly recommended.
I tried to visualize every possible scenario. Best case scenario, I get a light sentence. Worst case, Dante and his people get to me first and I’m a dead man. Worst case, those kids are never found and my own son grows up without a father.
Like I did.
I had to see Sarah, but I’d have to be careful. She was probably being watched. I dressed in jeans and a hooded jacket, concealing my face, and went to the house in Belgravia where we'd grown up after making sure she was now living there.
She opened the door and looked at me as though she’d seen a ghost. “Andrew!” she gasped, hugging me tightly. “Father told me you were dead!”
“He knew full well I wasn't,” I said, withdrawing from her embrace slowly.
“You know—”
“That he's dead? Yes, I know.” I removed my jacket and followed her into the drawing room. “Probably at the hand of one of his own business partners.”
“Nicholas Dante,” she said.
I couldn't hide my surprise. “You know him?”
“I've met him. He makes me uncomfortable.” She paused. “Tea?”
I shook my head. “Not now, Princess,” I told her. Then I told her everything…the whole, bizarre story…
Unable to sleep, I phoned Lynne when I returned to the hotel. Sarah had wanted me to stay with her, but I knew it wouldn’t be safe for either of us. Dante’s goons would be watching her. It was eight hours later in New Zealand, and I was sure Lynne would be up with the baby. “Edward’s dead,” I told her, giving her details of the arrest. “Sarah says the official story is suicide, but I don’t believe it.”
This did nothing to put her at ease. “Come home,” Lynne pleaded. “Don’t let them kill you, too.”
“I can’t,” I said, considering it even as I said the words. “I have to do this. I’m the only one who can. I have the proof, Lynne. I can show them where the bodies are buried—literally and figuratively. I may be able to make a deal for myself. I help them, they reduce my penalty.”
“If you live that long,” my wife said, unconvinced.
As I emerged from the hotel the next morning, I was approached by an attractive blonde woman moving toward me with determination. “Dr. Andrew Stewart?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.” I kept walking.
She followed. “Okay, let’s try Connor Mackenzie,” she called after me. “Does that name work for you?”
I stopped in my tracks and turned back to her. She held up her FBI badge and official ID. “Caitlin Hammond, US Federal Bureau of Investigation,” she identified herself.
“Am I under arrest?” I asked. The wind was blowing. It was starting to rain.
“Not at this time,” she answered, putting away her identification, “but I do have some questions for you.”
“About?” I opened my umbrella. She followed suit.
“A lot of missing kids. Your stepfather’s business interests. A man named Julian Marshall. Take your pick.” The wind threatened our umbrellas, jerking them about. Hers turned inside out. I grabbed it and made the necessary adjustment to fix it for her.
“Dr. Stewart?”
“Not here,” I said, scanning the faces on the street, wondering if any of them worked for Dante.
“Where would you suggest we do it, then?”
I looked around. There was a church down the street. It would be safe—or so I hoped. “There,” I said.
She clearly found the suggestion baffling, but didn’t object. “All right. Let’s go.”
We crossed against the light and went inside. The sanctuary was deserted. I breathed a sigh of relief. We weren’t likely to encounter any of Dante’s people here. I closed my umbrella.
“Looks like God has trouble getting his wayward children to visit,” Caitlin observed as she closed her folding umbrella and looked for a place to put it. Water dripped from it onto the floor. I took both umbrellas and placed them on a coat rack
.
“Here,” I said, gesturing toward one of the pews. Caitlin sat down, and I slid in next to her.
“Why here?” she asked, still curious. A loud clap of thunder startled her. The rain was pouring now, pounding the church’s roof.
I was oblivious to it. “We ran the risk of being watched out there,” I said.
She gave me a wry smile. “Paranoid, Dr. Stewart?”
“Not at all. I know what I’m up against, that’s all.”
“And what would that be?”
I inhaled. “A group of powerful, connected people who want something I won’t give them.”
“Not to mention possible criminal prosecution.”
“The least of my worries, I assure you.”
“You could have come to the authorities,” she suggested.
“That was my intention.”
“A little late, don’t you think?”
I frowned. “It’s been my experience that a badge doesn’t automatically ensure trustworthiness,” I said. “The cartel has far too many of their own in positions of authority on their extensive payroll.”
“Point taken,” she conceded.
“This might surprise you, but you and I want the same thing, Agent Hammond,” I said then. “You want to find all those missing kids. So do I.”
“I want to find them, yes, but I also want to bring those responsible to justice,” she said.
“So do I.”
“You were involved.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I was involved in experiments that were illegal,” I told her, “but I was not involved in the abduction of those children.”
“And why should I believe you?” she challenged.
“Because I’ve been in hiding for the past several months. Because the people who are responsible want me dead. Because you would never have found me if I had not chosen to come back,” I pointed out. “Because I have the proof to bring the guilty ones down. What I don’t yet have is the location of those children.”
“So even if we get your associates,” she began, “we may not ever find those kids—dead or alive.”
I nodded. “These people have resources beyond anything you can imagine. By the time you could get inside their offices, they would have gotten wind of your plans and the proof you need would have evaporated into thin air.”
“You make them sound like the Mafia,” she said, mildly amused.
“They’re worse,” I told her. “They have unlimited connections and resources. They believe they get it directly from Old Nick himself.”
“Old Nick?” she asked.
“In Britain, Old Nick is a nickname for Lucifer,” I explained.
“Lucifer?” She laughed mirthlessly. “You expect me to believe—”
“It doesn’t matter what you or I believe, Agent Hammond,” I told her. “The fact that they believe it makes them dangerous. They’re both capable and willing to do things normal human beings would be morally and psychologically incapable of doing.”
She looked at me, surprised. “You’re serious.”
“I’ve known for months how dangerous they are,” I confided. I told her everything I knew. “My wife believes in God, Agent Hammond. She believes that He gives us what we need when we need it and sees us through the dark times. She would say you and I crossed paths as we did so that we could find those kids.”
“What about you?” Caitlin asked. “Do you believe?”
“I don’t know,” I said truthfully.
“Suppose I were to believe all this bullshit,” she started. “What are you suggesting we do—together?”
I thought about it and made an impulsive decision. “Put a wire on me. I’ll confront Nicholas Dante. I’ll make him tell me.”
She took a few minutes to process all of it. Then she said, “You do realize if everything you’re telling me is true—and I’m still not totally convinced—you would be risking your life in doing this.”
“They killed my mother,” I said. “They’ve forced me to leave my wife and child in order to keep them safe. The advantage of a man who has nothing left to lose is that he doesn’t mind dying for the sake of revenge.”
73
Lynne
I wished I knew what was happening in London.
I stood at the front door, looking out across the valley. In my mind, I could see him chopping wood…meditating on the stump…waving to me to join him.
Will I ever see him again? I wondered.
“You haven’t been sleeping.”
I turned. Rafaela stood in the doorway, a look of disapproval on her face. “I can’t sleep when he’s not there with me,” I said.
“You slept without him for forty years,” Rafaela reminded me.
I didn’t smile. “I didn’t know him then,” I said. “I didn’t love him.”
“You knew him,” Rafaela disagreed.
I looked at her, confused.
“You knew him before either of you came into this world. Your souls have been entwined from the beginning of time.”
As she walked away, I sank onto the bed. There was a time I would have believed what Rafaela had just told me without question. Now, I doubted. I was no longer sure of anything.
I wanted to believe again. I wanted my faith to be restored. I wanted my son to grow up with faith, with hope. I wanted him to grow up with his father.
I bowed my head and began in a low voice: “Dear Father, I have doubts. I need my faith restored….”
74
Connor
I returned to my hotel room alone. I removed the two flash drives from their case, then took two envelopes from the drawer. I addressed one to Sarah, one to Caitlin Hammond. I put one flash drive in each, along with a brief letter to my sister. Then I phoned a courier service and had the envelope for Sarah picked up for delivery the next day. In the event anything goes wrong, I thought.
I phoned Lynne. “This is it, darlin’,” I told her, explaining what the FBI agent and I had decided to do.
“You can’t be serious,” Lynne objected. “This is suicide, Connor.”
“It’s the only way I can see to locate those missing kids,” I said.
“What about your own son?” she wanted to know.
I wished I could make her understand. “I love you.”
“I love you. We love you,” she said. I could tell she was crying. I hated what I’d done to my once strong, fearless wife. She was no longer that woman, and it was my fault.
I left the hotel and walked to my meeting with Caitlin Hammond, hoping I could trust her. I knew only too well that nothing, no one was what they appeared to be. I could only trust my own instincts and hope they wouldn’t let me down.
There are no other options, I thought.
I was vigilant, aware of everyone and everything around me as I walked. If Dante knew I had returned to London—and I was almost certain he did—he would have his goons looking for me.
I scrutinized every face I encountered on the street, always wondering, is he one of them?
“Excuse me, sir.”
I looked at the old woman approaching me. “Can I help you?” I asked.
“I do hope so,” she said with a smile that revealed two missing teeth. “I seem to have dropped my keys and I can’t find them.”
“Where?” I asked.
“There.” She pointed.
I knew I should keep going. I didn’t want to be late for my meeting with the Americans. But I looked at the old woman, and I felt for her. “All right,” I said, following her.
I located the missing keys quickly. “Here you are,” I told her, extending my hand.
“Thank you so much.” She grabbed my hand and I felt a sharp prick. And after that, darkness….
75
Caitlin
“What are the odds of this working?” Jack asked.
I shook my head. “Somewhere between slim and none,” I admitted. “But as far as I can see, this is all we’ve got.”
; “You think this cartel was behind Harry’s death?”
I nodded.
“Think Stewart will show?”
“Yeah. He’ll be here,” I said confidently.
“Still think he’s coming?” Jack asked hours later.
I was seething. I’d been so sure of his sincerity. I had trusted him and he’d bailed on me. “If he ever shows his face on US soil, I’ll be waiting,” I said with unmasked contempt.
76
Connor
I opened my eyes. My head was splitting and my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I was disoriented. I tried to talk, but the words wouldn’t come. My limbs felt heavy, too heavy to move.
“I’m truly disappointed in you, Andrew.”
Nicholas Dante. Edward's second in command. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear his voice. He was close by. Very close.
“I’m surprised you're out and about in the light of day, Nicholas,” I said. “I thought you’d be in your box, waiting for the sun to go down.”
“For someone as brilliant as yourself, you didn’t handle this well at all,” Dante gloated.
I finally found my voice. “What did you do to me?” I asked.
“I saved your life,” Dante said, coming into view, walking around me, circling me like a predator about to seize his prey. “You collapsed on the street. Don’t you remember?”
“I remember a sting. A tranquilizer, I presume. It was one of your people, no doubt.”
“As a matter of fact, it was.”
“Where are they, Nicholas?” I demanded. “What did you do with the children?”
Chasing the Wind Page 24