Lazlo’s Last Stand

by Kathleen Creighton

  “You’re forgetting one thing, aren’t you? There’s still the boy. My son.” She tensed, and so did he. He saw murder come back into her eyes. “That’s right, Cass. He’s my son, and I want him. I mean to do everything in my power to save him from you. And I’ll keep up the fight as long as it takes. Until you, me or both of us are dead. Unless…”

  “Unless?” Her voice was as hushed and deadly as a snake’s hiss.

  Corbett rose to his feet. As tall as she was, he still looked down at her. “I will give up any attempt to win back my son in exchange for two things from you. First, I want your word that you will call off your dogs-leave Lucia Cordez alone.”

  “Lucia? Oh, yes…” She smiled unpleasantly. “The little computer whiz you are so fond of. The one who shot my son.” The smile vanished. “You ask a lot. What is the second thing-perhaps…the moon?”

  “No.” Now it was he who smiled. He hoped it wasn’t a nice smile. “Nothing so romantic. All I want is to know who my betrayer is. Who has been feeding you the inside information that has made it possible for you to destroy the Lazlo Group? I want to hear you say the name.”

  “You want to know that?” Just for a second he saw her gaze flick past him, and her eyes brighten with a terrible gleam of triumph. Then she threw back her head and laughed. His heart hammered in his chest. “You would like to know who betrayed you, Cor-bey? That I will tell you-with the greatest pleasure. It was her, of course-” She flung out an arm and pointed, with all the dramatic flare of an opera diva. “-the computer genius herself…”

  Corbett heard a sharp gasp behind him and spun toward the sound, so that he barely heard the name he’d asked for.

  “…Lucia Cordez.”

  Lucia barely heard the words, either. All she saw was Corbett’s face. Corbett’s eyes. The fierce blue light of his eyes, and the color draining out of his face.

  “Lucia?” It was a question, whispered in disbelief.

  She felt frozen, incapable of movement, unable even to shake her head or utter words of reassurance and denial, or even his name. All she could do was lock her eyes with his.

  He moved toward her, then, but Cassandra was faster. She sprang, lithe as a panther, and managed to thrust her body between Corbett and Lucia, grab Lucia’s arm and turn them both so that she held Lucia in front of her with the arm twisted painfully behind her back.

  “Don’t struggle,” she hissed in Lucia’s ear, “or I will kill him where he stands.” She reached her free arm around Lucia’s side just far enough so that she could see the tiny but lethal gun she held half-concealed in her palm. “And you, Cor-bey,” she said, “make one move and I kill her instead. Right in front of your eyes, the way you killed my brother. Of course, I plan to kill her anyway-what did you expect, that I would take your deal? Go ahead-try to take your son from me. He hates you now, as much as I do. That is all I care about-that you will never have him. Never!”

  The guttural shout seemed to hover suspended over the silent trio…until the silence was broken by a word, spoken in a weak voice made harsh by shock and pain.

  “Maman?” All eyes jerked to the occupant of the wheelchair rolling soundlessly toward them down the corridor. “Is this true? This man-est-il mon père?”

  Cassandra gave a gasp that sounded almost like a sob and brought the barrel of the gun up, leveled it, aimed it straight at Corbett. The gunshot that followed blended with a scream of rage and pain, as Lucia stabbed a sewing needle deep into Cassandra’s thigh.

  Cassandra’s wild shot and shouted threats brought the police guard at a dead run with gun drawn. He and Corbett both froze, however, when Cassandra turned the gun and pressed the barrel against Lucia’s neck.

  Lucia then heard the clatter of running footsteps, but any hopes she might have had of imminent rescue died a moment later when at least half a dozen of Cassandra’s armed bodyguards came thundering onto the scene. She could only cling to Corbett’s anguished eyes as the uniformed policeman hastily dropped his weapon, and the muscular orderly stepped in front of the wheelchair to shield its vulnerable occupant from flying bullets.

  Cassandra’s cackle of triumphant laughter had barely faded from Lucia’s ears when she heard a loud metallic click very close by. And then a cheerful voice with an unmistakable Australian twang.

  “Right-O, Cassandra, m’darlin’, that is, indeed, a pistol barrel you feel snuggling up against your pretty head. Now then, I want you to tell all your naughty boys to throw down their toys-there’s a good girl.”

  From what seemed like every corner and nook, every door and corridor in the hospital, came a silent and deadly army, every one of them dressed in black and sporting, on caps, sleeves or jackets, green intertwined pentagrams, the logo of the Lazlo Group.

  And then, for the part of the world Lucia occupied, at least, time seemed to stop. All around her was motion, noise, confusion, but where she was…all was silent. Even her heart, her breath was still. She existed in that frozen state like a princess in a fairy tale, cast under a witch’s spell, until the voice, the right voice…and the touch, the right touch, restored her to life again.

  “Lucia-my God-”

  “Corbett…” Dazed, she put out a hand. Felt stiff fabric, and beneath it the rigid thickness of body armor.

  “Lu-are you-God, I thought-I hoped…”

  She felt his cheek, bristly with beard, against hers. Heard the tremor in his voice. Her heart began to beat again, hard against the body armor. “Corbett, I’m sorry. I had to come. I found the mole. I’m so sorry. It’s-”

  “Edward. Yes, I know.” His voice was guttural, thick with the grief he couldn’t show-not here, not now. Not with his men all around him and an image to uphold.

  Lucia, being a woman and therefore not so stupidly constrained, drew a sharp, shuddering breath, buried her face in the warm curve of Corbett’s neck and let her tears fall where they pleased.

  In the parking lot across the street from the hospital’s main entrance, Adam Sinclair leaned against the fender of his BMW and contemplated his future. Time for a change, he thought, watching the couple just now emerging from the revolving doors and making their way down the steps, arms around each other’s waists, as if they couldn’t bear to be separate from each other even for a moment.

  What the hell-he hadn’t been home in a while. Maybe he’d see what sort of excitement Oz had to offer these days.

  First, though, there was one last job he had to do-for the Group-and for his oldest and best friend.

  He straightened and waved to the couple, who checked then crossed the street to join him, almost running together in perfect step.

  “You have him, then?” Corbett asked quietly, not a muscle in his face betraying the emotions Adam knew must be tearing his guts out. Only the diamond hardness of his eyes…

  “On ice, back at the shop.” Adam tilted his head toward Lucia as he climbed into the driver’s seat, but didn’t look directly at her. Didn’t have to, did he, to know her cheeks were flushed and her eyes gone misty with love. “You want me to get someone to run her home?”

  “She comes with me.” The simple statement rode over Lucia’s sharp intake of breath and told Adam everything he needed to know-if he hadn’t already figured it out.

  He nodded and turned the ignition key. Corbett and Lucia climbed into the backseat of his car.

  At the Lazlo Group’s security entrance in the basement parking garage, Corbett took Lucia gently by her arms and looked into her eyes. “Wait for me in the apartment, love. I won’t be long. Promise.”

  “Promise,” she whispered.

  He kissed her-a much-too-sweet, much-too-brief moment. Then watched her step backward into the elevator. Watched the door whisk silently closed on her somber face and shimmering eyes. Together and in silence, he and Adam waited for the elevator’s return. When the door slid open, he placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder.

  “I think…I have to do this alone,” he said in a voice rough with all he couldn’t say.

>   Adam nodded and stepped back. “Gotcha, mate.” He held out his hand, grinning crookedly. “I guess it’s g’day, then.”

  Corbett took his hand in a brief, hard grip. Unable to speak, he only nodded, released it and stepped onto the elevator. The door closed, leaving him with a lingering vision of his old friend’s face and a sharp sense of loss.

  Corbett stepped silently into the steel-walled soundproof room deep in the bowels of the Lazlo Group’s basement keep and closed the door behind him. Hope flashed briefly across the face of the only other person in the room, before a shield of desperate bravado replaced it.

  “Corb! What the devil is this all about? I demand-”

  “Save it, Edward. I know,” Corbett replied quietly. He was gratified to discover he felt nothing. Numbness…contempt, perhaps. But that was all. He watched dispassionately as his brother’s normally florid face turned pasty, then seemed to collapse in on itself.

  “Corb, I swear, I never-”

  “I said, save it. I only want to hear enough of your voice to answer me one question. Why’d you do it? Why betray the Group? Why betray me?”

  “It was that bloody sod, Viktor-he was blackmailing me, Corb. I swear, I had no choice.” Edward came toward him, babbling, hands outstretched, entreating. Corbett folded his arms on his chest, barricading himself and his emotions against the onslaught. “I’d got myself in a spot of trouble-my gambling. Look, I’ll get help, I swear, I will, if you’ll just-”

  “People have died, Edward. Good people. People I cared about.”

  His brother’s face spasmed with pain. He drew a shaking hand over his eyes…shook his head. “I never meant to hurt anyone-you must believe that. Least of all you. I thought Viktor only wanted the information to steer clear of our agents…SIS, you know? How was I supposed to know he’d turn around and peddle the stuff to Cassandra DuMont? Viktor promised you’d never be hurt. Devil take him-I trusted him, Corb. He was family.”

  “Family?” It took all the self-control Corbett had to keep his voice quiet. Steady. Rigid as steel. “I’m your family, Eddie. You could have come to me.”

  “Come to you?” Edward halted, his face contorted with anger, eyes filled with tears of resentment, pain. “Mister High-and-Mighty? Mister Perfect?” He made a fist and pounded himself in the chest with it. “I’m your big brother! When we were kids, you looked up to me. When you were in trouble, you came to me. I was the golden boy, not you. And look at you now. You’ve never set a foot wrong-even that dustup with SIS wasn’t your doing. That was the last time I felt like you needed me, wasn’t it? You think I don’t know you gave me a job out of pity? Come to you for help? For God’s sake, leave me some pride!”

  “Pride-is that what you call it?” There was no contempt in it, only sadness for all that had been lost. Wasted. Corbett turned, unable to bear looking at his brother’s face a moment longer.

  “What are you going to do? What’s to become of me now?”

  Corbett shrugged and said without turning, “As someone once said, frankly, I don’t give a damn. You’re through with the Lazlo Group, of course. And with me. We’ll carry on as usual through Josh and Pru’s wedding-I won’t spoil that for them, or for Mum and Dad. After that…well, I’ll call in a few markers, I suppose, see if I can arrange some kind of deal that might keep you out of jail. If you’re willing to tell everything you know about Cass and her operation-and testify against her at trial, of course. After that, I don’t want to see your face. Ever. Do I make myself clear?”

  He waited for the whispered, “Yes,” opened the door, then paused. “Oh-and Eddie, you won’t make the mistake of trying to run off, will you? Because if you do, I will find you. And all bets are off.” He went out, leaving his brother standing there. Alone.

  Alone.

  He stood in the empty corridor…Corbett Lazlo, legendary head of the most respected private-security agency in the world. Powerful…invincible…unknowable. The man in the shadows. Alone.

  Except-it came to him then: He didn’t have to be alone anymore. And, more important, didn’t want to be. He needed…yes, needed…warmth, comfort, support. Love. He needed with every fiber of his being, every breath in his body. His need overwhelmed him. And his need had a name. Lucia.

  Lucia. It was true, he didn’t just love her, want her. He needed her. Needed her with him, supporting him, comforting him, amazing and confounding and exasperating him. Laughing and weeping with him. Making babies with him. Growing old with him.

  Halfway down that empty gleaming corridor, Corbett Lazlo began to run.

  Epilogue

  “Édesem…Can you ever forgive me?”

  “That depends. Did you really think I could…”

  Corbett looked down at the heart-shaped face nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. Luminous eyes gazed back at him, shimmering like quicksilver in the dim light. “Not for even a moment,” he said, shaken by the weight and depth of his feelings for her.

  “Are you sure?” Her long thick lashes dropped like curtains over her eyes. He felt her deep breath. “Corbett, I saw your face. When she-when Cassandra said that I was-”

  “What you saw on my face was sheer horror, no doubt,” he said, his voice coming deep and rough from the place inside him that still felt the agony of that moment. “I couldn’t believe you were there, after everything I’d done to keep you away.”

  She sighed again and nestled closer, and he saw a suspicious glimmer under her lashes. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, and the tear quivered free and rolled away down the side of her face and into her hair. Her eyes opened wide again. “Not that I came, though-I had to, Corbett. Once I knew. Even though I thought you might never forgive me.”

  “I know,” he growled, hugging her close. “I know. I just can’t imagine how you managed it. You owe Josef and Kati an enormous apology, you know.”

  She nodded, sniffed and pulled a hand from under the covers to wipe her eyes. “I’ll make it up to them, I swear.”

  “Kati, especially. You know she thought it was her fault? Evidently, when you went off to the cave to look for your…uh, glasses-supposedly-she thought she had time for a bathroom break. When you didn’t show up, she was sure you’d slipped past while she was in the loo. Poor woman was completely distraught.”

  “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” Lucia asked in a small voice.

  Corbett laughed softly. “Oh, I think she will. Particularly since the subterfuge was done on my behalf.”

  “It was. Oh, Corbett, I’m so sorry about Edward. When did you know? And how did you figure it out?”

  He was silent for a moment, staring up at the stars. Then he drew a breath that pushed against the lingering ache in his ribs and the newer, sharper one in his heart. “Once I forced myself to look at it honestly, it was…” He wouldn’t say easy. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had anything harder to do in his life. “It was a matter of character-or the lack of it, I suppose. Quite simply, Edward is the only one of you three who’s capable of doing such a thing. I think some part of me knew that, just didn’t want to believe it. He always was spoiled-had a habit of living beyond his means-and his capabilities. He was the firstborn, the light of our parents’ eyes. They’d feared they’d never have kids, you see, and he was their miracle child. Never had to excel, or even try very hard at anything. They treated him like the royal heir no matter what he did. I was rather an afterthought, I think…”

  “But…you outdid him in every way. I can’t imagine-”

  He hugged her closer to silence her, so her next question came muffled and hesitant. “Corbett…what-what will you do about Troy? Now that Cassandra and her thugs have been arrested, what’s going to become of him?”

  He stirred restlessly, but the knot in his chest stayed where it was. “I called in a few markers. But he’s done some terrible things, Lu. How much was his mother’s influence and how much his true character-who knows? But once he’s out of rehab he’s going to prison, there’s no way around that, I’m
afraid. One good thing-right now he’s so angry with Cassandra for lying to him all this time, he may be ready to hear my side of things. Remains to be seen, I guess. He’s got a long, hard road to travel.”

  “He’ll make it,” Lucia murmured. “He’s got you.”

  “Yes, that he does.” He lifted his head to look down at her, and his heart felt as though it had taken up a new position in his throat. “And you? Do we-my son and I-do we have you, as well?” She gazed up at him without speaking. He tried to smile…frowned instead, his breathing, even his heartbeat suspended. “I could use a partner. Particularly now that Adam’s decided to go back to Australia.”

  Smiling to herself in the darkness, Lucia felt overwhelmed with tenderness-not for the powerful, all but invincible leader and teacher she’d always been in awe of, not even for the incredibly skilled and sensitive lover newly met, who turned her bones to warm honey with a touch. But tenderness…for the gentle and vulnerable soul she was only just coming to know. The one who needed her.

  She gave a little snort and shifted away from him. “Not interested.”

  He thought for a moment. “Okay…what about wife? As it happens, that position is open, as well.”

  She turned back to him, eyes narrowed and thoughtful. “Well…that sounds a bit more interesting. Does this…position come with benefits?”

  “Not very many, I’m afraid,” he said somberly. “Just certain…uh, bedroom privileges, and my complete and undying love and utter devotion for the rest of my life.

  “That’ll do,” she said softly.

  He leaned down and kissed her a long, lovely time, then leaned back with a sigh. “Plus,” he said, nudging her head with his chin, “you get to sleep every night under the stars.”

  “Yes.” Her whispered voice was slurred with tears, but she didn’t care if he knew. She had nothing to hide from him, not anymore.