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by Cynthia Henry


  George covered her hands and held them still and steady. “We have guards on them and your parents--Chris’ family too. They’re hanging back not to be seen. Some are even planted at Noah’s school and Audrey’s pre-school as dishwashers and teacher’s aides. Your kids are safe.”

  Beth let go of George’s shirt. What was she doing? She wasn’t an agent anymore. She was a housewife who knew more about gelatin molds than arsenals. She spun to face Deej. “I can’t do this. I can’t be responsible for this. I’m not ready. I’m not prepared. I’ll slip up and they’ll kill him.”

  Deej grabbed her arm that had been flailing as she spoke. “They’re going to kill him anyway, Bethie. You’re the only chance he has. You’re the only chance your children have of seeing their father again.”

  Tears that she’d fought publicly since the day she’d arrived here to this hellish place, tumbled from her eyes. “I can’t do it, Deej. Bryan Holden was just a boy when I was in Jaelyn. He won’t know if you send someone more capable in and pretend it’s me.”

  Deej gave a resounding, “Ha!” He threw the photos he had gathered up to the table. “Bethie, you’re smarter than that. That guy has probably studied your face every hour of his life for twelve years. He’ll know in an instant and then Chris is dead for sure. You are the only one who can get through, just like you got through when Gloria Tweed was inside. We don’t want a bloody standoff this time. We just want you to get in, convince Holden that you’re still Farley-Fauna the divine, find Chris and play along just long enough for us to locate evidence to put this maniacal Holden family out of commission for once and for all.”

  Beth massaged her temples and struggled to think. She wasn’t brave anymore. She wasn’t an idealistic twenty-one-year-old fresh out of a cushy college with a dual psychology/criminal profiling degree and determined to rid the world of injustice. She had children now and the saving of the world should be the responsibility of someone else.

  Beth felt George’s palm against her back. “You don’t have to do it, Beth.”

  She could almost feel Deej’s bristle behind her.

  Beth spun around in her chair and faced him. “Tell me the truth. What are Chris’ chances if I don’t go in?”

  Deej shook his head.

  “And what are his chances if I do?”

  Deej slid the photos back into the manila envelope from where they came. “Slightly better.”

  Beth turned and looked into the concern of George’s eyes. He was a good man--but he wasn’t the father of her children. “Then I guess I have to proceed with those odds.”

  Chapter 15

  Interesting reaction.

  The Most Masterful dimmed the observation screen and lowered to the lounge in his sanctuary. Stoddard-of-handsome-face wasn’t the man The Most Masterful had pegged him to be.

  Oh, The Most Masterful had expected the initial resistance--the fighting stance and sailor’s tongue. He’d even expected the apathy--the pleas for it to be done because in actuality it already was.

  But, once the seed had been sown and the bricks laid, The Most Masterful had predicted compliance. He’d studied psychological techniques, seen enough of his father’s teachings to know that generally the tortured and manipulated conformed because no one truly wanted to disappear.

  But Stoddard seemed to.

  He glanced back to the screen and the broken body lying comatose and stoic on a hard bed.

  It didn’t matter.

  All that mattered was that Stoddard hung on long enough for him to witness Farley-Fauna’s return to the fold. Then Stoddard could leave this world; take his payment in the next. His children would be dealt with someday because they’d have to be--The Most Masterful had no choice but to ensure their elimination or at least their demise--but that was still years away when everything would become so clear. Then the line would be drawn, the evil blood halted and the earth and all eternity would be poised to achieve what it always should’ve--The Master’s vision of Flora-Sky.

  Movement flickered on the screen. Chanta-Clara entered Stoddard’s room, set a tray beside him filled with a heaping plate of rack of lamb and parsnips. Stoddard flinched only slightly, probably remembering that it was she who gave the pleasure that terrified his soul--then lay still once again.

  He was beyond even attempting to whack the tray down or dive because he was, above all other things, starving for nourishment of his very human being.

  Chanta-Clara slipped from the room without touching him and Stoddard’s eyes fell closed and he was still.

  The Most Masterful glanced at the clock in his chamber--a seafaring contraption with a loud tick that he’d found in a tacky thrift shop, but enjoyed nevertheless--and smiled.

  He lay back against the lounge and tuned in music with a remote control device. Puccini.

  He closed his eyes just as Stoddard had. All was right with Flora-Sky. Gleaming weapons waited in a bolted room--weapons that the enemy had used to destroy twelve years before. The Most Masterful ensured that they’d fallen into the right hands this time--the breaching shotguns and Heckler and Koch MP-5SD’s with that wonderful Infrared visible laser. And there were more too--more than he could even fathom--which his army, though still few in number but strong in ingenuity had learned to master.

  All that was important was that justice would arrive.

  It didn’t matter that it had been a long time in coming.

  Chapter 16

  They flew from Amsterdam to Stockholm and then boarded an undescript old Navy vessel to charter the Baltic Sea. Rain had been falling for hours, but Beth couldn’t do more than sit under an archway and stare over the deck.

  She’d eaten little, smoked about a million and two cigarettes. It was easy to focus on the things that could go wrong; on the way she could botch everything and have the rest of her life to live with it. Or she could die trying and leave her children virtual orphans. But no matter the years that’d slipped away or the ambivalence that’d set in--she and Chris had originally been partners and above all else, a good law enforcement officer always protected their partner.

  “I never know where I’ll find you.” George had appeared and slid onto the step beside her.

  Beth crushed her cigarette beneath her combat boot. “I seem to be riveted to the water these days. It’s so huge.”

  “It is.” George was quiet as he watched the dark, murky waves hit the side of the ship.

  It was a strange situation. She was on the way to rescue her estranged husband with her would-be lover in tow. “George, I’ve truly appreciated that you’ve been here. I know that beyond duty, this has to be hard for you.”

  He shrugged and folded his hands. “I am an agent.” He turned to face her. “And I’m also a man in love and I’d give anything if you didn’t have to do this.”

  She reached for his hand, folded their fingers and rested them on her thigh. “I know.”

  “I believe that Deej and his contacts are the best, Beth, you know that. But I’m not sure they’re right about this. Part of me isn’t even sure whether or not Chris is alive. I’ve seen decoys and tricks too many times.”

  “I can’t think that, George. I have to believe that he is.”

  “And what if he is? What if you reach him, get him out, get him home, then what?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, then what? Do things change or remain the same? Do you stay in Old Saybrook or run back to Canada?”

  Beth loosened her grip, but George tightened it. “It’s a legitimate question. These certainly aren’t the same circumstances as seven weeks ago when you left.”

  “No, they’re not, but it doesn’t change the fact that Chris and I aren’t good together.”

  George studied her for a minute, reading her eyes, trying so hard to read her thoughts she was sure. He kissed her then and she let him because she needed to not think and just feel.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “I always have. I’ll make you happy.”r />
  “I know,” she whispered back.

  George pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t want you to go in. I’ll do it. I’ll find Chris and I’ll get him out and I’ll get him home. I’ll do that for you, Beth. But then I want you to divorce him and marry me.”

  Beth sat up and reached for the pack of cigarettes beside her. “We can’t barter my husband’s safety, George. There can’t be terms and conditions imposed. He’s my husband, he’s my children’s father, he’s a fellow agent and his best hope is me.”

  George snatched her hand and kissed the back. “Marry me. As soon as possible. Promise me that and I’ll feel safe in backing you because I’ll know you’re mine.”

  “George, please. You’re pushing again and this isn’t the night to push.”

  He sucked in a breath, rubbed his forehead and looked back to the sea. “You’re right and I’m sorry, but you see it as only a short time since you decided to leave; I see it as thirteen years since I first saw you. I’ve been waiting all that time, Beth. There hasn’t been another woman who has even come close. We’re right for each other and you need to see that. You chose the wrong guy.”

  Beth took a pull from the cigarette and exhaled a long slow breath. “Let’s just get the wrong guy home now, George.”

  Deej’s unmistakable heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. Beth turned to see him emerge with dossier in hand. “We’ll be docking just before dawn. It may be a good idea to get some sleep, Bethie.”

  She shook her head and stretched her arms in front of her. “I can’t sleep. I’ve tried, but I’ve never been so non-tired in my entire life.”

  “Then I guess I may as well brief you on what will happen.”

  Deej stepped through the space Beth and George made between them and leaned against the rail.

  George stood up then. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll sit this one out. I’ve already been briefed and I don’t think I want to hear it again. I’ll say goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, George.” Beth watched his form disappear down the stairs.

  Deej had crossed his arms over his thick abdomen when Beth looked back to him.

  “What exactly is going on with you two, Bethie?”

  Beth ground out her second cigarette and stood up. “It’s inconsequential right now.”

  Deej smiled in that charming, mischievous way. “Honey, I thought you would’ve learned long ago that nothing is inconsequential.”

  “He’s in love with me--has been since forever. He’s not a reason for the deterioration of my marriage, but I will admit it was easier to leave knowing I had someone to cushion the blow. Is that selfish?”

  Deej nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

  Beth slid her hands into the pockets of her khakis and stared out into the night and the vastness of the sea. “I know.”

  “Do you love him?”

  Beth shrugged. “I don’t know, Deej. Not like I loved Chris--that I’m sure of.”

  Deej laughed then--hearty and true. “That would be pretty easy to determine. I never saw people more crazy about each other than you guys were. How many places did I catch you two?”

  Beth turned to face him and felt the unmistakable blush fill her cheeks even though it was dark and even though it was only him and it shouldn’t matter. “We were young and I’m afraid now that we mistook attraction for love.”

  Deej was shaking his head before she even finished. “No, that wasn’t it.”

  “I mean all due respect here, sir, but how do you know?”

  ”Because I saw you--both of you. I’d worked with Chris for four years before you came along. I don’t have to tell you that he was a good-looking guy. Women were everywhere--always had been. And Chris was moderately interested, but never for long and never by much. Then he saw you. Damn.”

  Beth turned to him and saw his smirk.

  “I looked at him that day just to see. I’d been laughing for weeks because I’d seen you, and I knew what he was going to think the second you walked in. He’d been so pissed about having a little ivy-league grad assigned to him--he said every word I’d ever heard and some new ones I think he invented--but then you walked in and nothing was ever the same again. That cockiness was gone and something finally mattered.”

  Deej reached out and tucked a piece of Beth’s hair that’d escaped her crude bun behind her ear. “I always thought you two would see it through.”

  Beth turned back to the water. “I just want to get to him and then I want to go home to my kids.”

  “I know.” Deej leaned on the railing and they stood there quiet and still for long minutes until he finally spoke. “We’re going to wait until close to dark to infiltrate. You’ll go in in full Flora-Sky garb so they won’t attempt to dress you. You’ll be bugged and armed, though only with a stealth pistol that ideally you won’t need. We think we can gain entry in a few other points that our leak recommended.”

  “How much backing?”

  “Just you, George and myself at first. We’re hoping this doesn’t turn into Jaelyn, Beth. We aren’t equipped for that right now and in order to keep this under wraps, we couldn’t send out the cattle call. There is backing available and they’ll be nearby, but not a lot. We’re hoping that the crew Holden’s amassed is ignorant and ill trained. You do the shtick, pretend you believe you’re Farley-Fauna and the kidnapping of your husband served as a sign.”

  “Do you think Holden knows that we were separated?”

  “Probably, but he’s so full of himself he’ll believe that it enabled you to see the light. I don’t think he has any idea that we’ve gotten wind of it. That’s our hope.”

  “How do I get to Chris?”

  Deej looked up into the inky sky. “Our source hasn’t been able to determine with absolute certainty that Chris is even there. You’re going to have to gain the trust of Holden, or at the very least Joanna King who seems to be the closest to him. She’ll be skeptical at first--she’s in love with the guy--but you won over Gloria Tweed who was younger, more naïve and present in the sick world a lot longer. I believe you can do it.”

  “And then?”

  “And then you find Chris, signal us and we come in. Hopefully we’ll have gotten lucky and located the weapons by then. Then we come home to ticker tape.”

  “And Chris?”

  “Deprogramming most likely. But he’ll be okay, Bethie. He’ll be alive thanks to you.”

  Beth pursed her lips and nodded. “Though I know the answer to this, I need to ask anyway. Why can’t the Bureau just sweep in, get him and arrest Holden on kidnapping and weapons charges?”

  “Because this has been deemed the best way. This needs to end. The kid is unbalanced. He’s linked to all sorts of shit that we can’t even fathom.”

  “He’s twenty-four years old. How has he had the time?”

  Deej faced her. “You’d broken down the evil empire by the time you were twenty-four, Bethie.”

  “I became a mother at twenty-four. My days of heroics were already through.”

  Deej slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Beth rested her head against his sturdy frame. “Twelfth hour, Beth. We’re almost home.”

  And she nodded because it had to be true.

  Chapter 17

  Chris spit out the thick chowder that the girl they called Chanta-Clara poured down his throat while the one called Dara-Dawn held his mouth open.

  “You must eat, Manish-Mannen. You will perish too soon otherwise.”

  There was so little left inside to fight with. He knew who he was--that was still clear--but the rest he couldn’t figure out. He knew he didn’t necessarily want to be here, but he couldn’t recall where he’d go if given the chance. He remembered children that he thought he may have fathered, but the horrible images he was shown daily made him wonder if there were even children at all anymore.

  And the woman he’d loved…what had happened to her? The photos showed her with another--holding her tight, stroking her h
air, covering her mouth. Had she always belonged to this other man or had she only run to him when he--Chris he sometimes remembered, or this Manish-Mannen everyone else referred to him as--had disappeared?

  In the images this woman he’d loved sometimes appeared to be hanging and cold. Other photos showed her happy with this new man in this other life and it was beyond difficult to solve the mystery of what was real or if he was even real.

  “Please eat, Manish-Mannen, and embrace your life with The Most Masterful.”

  “Why?”

  Both girls looked at him, surprise on their delicate faces. He hadn’t uttered a word in so long. Dara-Dawn stroked his brow gently. “You have a child to wait for--a child that will be delivered from Chanta-Clara into the world of the Flora-Sky in eight months time. You must not perish.”

  A child?

  Chris allowed his eyes to slip closed.

  It was the only time he found peace.

  ***

  The steel of the tiny gun was cold against her stomach. Beth adjusted the piece, but the female agent sent to assist shook her head. “You have to leave it there. It’ll show otherwise.”

  “All right,” Beth said as the woman tugged one last time and then let go of the white silky wrap and allowed it to fall freely. Beth glanced in the mirror and shuddered. A brief and hazy vision of herself flashed and then mercifully disappeared. Thankfully a knock came to the door and Deej peeked around the corner. “All ready?”

  Beth smoothed the fabric. “Ready.”

  “Remember, Beth, you’re not vulnerable anymore. Their tactics won’t work. Just keep telling yourself that.”

  Beth looked back to the mirror and nodded. “I know.”

  “It’s time then. It’s just about dusk.”

  And Beth followed the man who used to be her boss out the door.

  ***

  George tapped the tiny microphone that ran across Beth’s chest. “It’s working.” He met her eyes and looked almost sexy in his black ski cap, shirt and tight pants. He turned down the volume. “If you need anything, use this. Do you understand?”

 

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