by Vanessa Kier
Siobahn forced herself to give a rueful smile. “No, you know me. I don’t like to worry my family.” She dealt with her own problems, thank you very much, then notified her family afterward. Otherwise, her father and brothers would step in and take over her life.
The senator nodded. “Good. Good. An independent woman like yourself doesn’t need to go running to her family every time she has a little scare.” He reached out and patted her hand. She tensed, fearing the prick of a needle, but all she felt was his clammy skin before he withdrew his hand. “You just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I have contacts in all facets of the local law enforcement community.”
Siobahn managed a weak smile. “Thank you. I will.” Interesting, though, that he hadn’t asked if she was all right. Or even what happened.
The waiter arrived with their coffee, then went back to get their desserts. Wallace was in the middle of a story about a recent party he’d attended where some local celebrities had fawned over him when Siobahn’s phone rang. Recognizing the special ringtone she’d set up with Ryker, she pulled the phone out of her purse.
“Excuse me,” she said, knowing how much Wallace hated being interrupted. “I’m expecting an important call and I need to answer this.”
The flash of annoyance in Wallace’s eyes was quickly replaced by avuncular exasperation. “Of course, my dear. I understand the importance of fulfilling one’s responsibilities.”
Siobahn smiled at him and answered the call. “Hello?”
“Are you having fun yet?” Ryker said softly.
“No.” As discussed, Siobahn shot Wallace a look of alarm, as if she’d heard some disturbing news. “Are you certain?”
“Certain that I wish we could have done this another way? Hell, yes.”
Hearing Ryker’s voice settled some of the butterflies in her stomach, but didn’t the man care that the FBI was listening in?
“He was murdered? That can’t be right.” Gathering up her purse, Siobahn slid out of her chair, making certain that she kept a wary eye on Wallace. “But—”
“You’re doing great, Siobahn,” Ryker said. “I didn’t know you were such a gifted actress.”
“Wait. Let me find someplace private, okay? Then you can finish that thought. All right?” Giving the senator a shaky smile, she began backing away from him. His eyes narrowed and his lips flattened into a tight line.
Siobahn bit her lip and glanced away, as if guilty of hiding something. Fully expecting Wallace to try and stop her, she was surprised when he just watched her walk away.
Hurrying across the nearly deserted courtyard, Siobahn kept the now silent phone to her ear, grimacing as if she’d received bad news. She only slowed down when she reached the relative safety of the ladies’ room. Ending the call, she shoved her phone back in her purse. If this attempt to draw Wallace out didn’t succeed, maybe it wasn’t because he was too smart to act against her in public. Maybe they just had the wrong guy.
She grabbed some paper towels out of the stack along the back of the sink, wet them with cold water, and placed them on the back of her neck. Closed her eyes and tried to still the pounding of her heart, knowing that her nerves were due more to the potential of Uncle Sheldon’s betrayal than to fear of any physical danger.
The loud buzz of an incoming text on her cell phone made her jump. Taking a deep breath, she threw the wet paper towels in the trash, dried her hands, then read the message from Ryker.
Wallace seen dropping substance into your coffee. Team moving in. Stay put until I come for you.
No. She wasn’t going to hide in here while Wallace was led away. She needed to see his face. Needed an explanation.
Opening the door to the corridor, she stepped into controlled chaos. Men with windbreakers proclaiming FBI on the back had invaded the courtyard. Two agents held Senator Wallace by the arms and she saw the glint of handcuffs on his wrists. From the furious expression on the senator’s face, he was arguing with the agent in front of him. Or maybe reaming the agent a new one.
Siobahn headed toward the French doors leading to the courtyard.
“Ma’am, you’re not supposed to go out there.”
Siobahn shot the agent a glare. “Senator Wallace just tried to poison me. I think I have the right to an explanation. Don’t you? Besides,” she gestured to the agents milling around. “What can he possibly do to me with all of you surrounding him?”
“Sorry, but we’re under ord—”
Siobahn used her shorter size to slip past the agent. Putting a look of alarm on her face, she strode into the crowd. “Uncle Sheldon! What’s going on?”
Upon hearing her voice, the senator’s anger drained away and a slightly confused look took its place. God, had he always been such a consummate actor? How had she never noticed?
“There’s been a terrible mistake, Siobahn.” Here was the imperious senator, emphasized by a regal glare at the nearest agents. “They think I…” He shook his head and his expression turned to one of disbelief. “They actually accused me of putting something in your coffee. Honestly. Can you believe such rubbish? As if I would ever hurt you.”
Siobahn made certain to keep her tone sympathetic. “You’re right. I’m sure there’s just some horrible mix up.” She turned toward the FBI agent hovering by their table. “This is very easy to clear up.” She snatched her cup from the table and raised it to her lips.
“No!”
The senator knocked into her with his shoulder. The cup flew out of her hands. The nearest agent caught the cup before it hit the ground, but no one caught Siobahn’s stomach as it plummeted.
She’d really hoped they were wrong. “Uncle Sheldon? If there’s nothing wrong with my coffee, why did you just stop me from drinking it?”
“Why…why… I was protecting you.” He drew himself up tall. “I might be innocent, but clearly the FBI suspects someone is trying to kill you. Anyone in the restaurant could have gotten to your coffee before it even reached the table.” He nodded. “Yes. I saved your life.”
The agent in charge shook his head. “Wrong. The FBI prepared the food today and our agents carried it to the table. No one else got close enough to doctor the food. Plus, we have tape of you reaching across and dumping something in her coffee while Ms. Murphy was in the ladies’ room.”
“Sugar. That’s all. Siobahn likes her coffee sweet. I was just being helpful.”
Siobahn took a step back. “Why? Why try to kill me? What threat did I pose to you?” Her voice echoed with betrayal. “I trusted you.”
Wallace slowly turned his head side to side, eyeing the milling agents. Then he pulled against his captors. “Let me go. I am a Senator of the United States of America. I am immune from your petty accusations.”
“No one is immune to attempted murder charges, Senator,” the agent in charge stated.
Wallace turned back to Siobahn. “Siobahn, you know me. I’ve always treated you like one of my own children. Tell these men that the restraints are unnecessary. I’m certain we can resolve this misunderstanding peacefully.”
Siobahn shook her head and stepped away until the edge of a table bumped against the back of her legs. “No.” She shook her head again, feeling like a little girl desperate to deny the scary truth. “No. I just can’t trust you any more.”
“You don’t understand, girl. I’m a patriot. A true blue American. My entire life has been dedicated to protecting this great country of ours.”
“Since when did protecting our country involve murdering U.S. citizens?” she demanded. “Or killing President MacAdam?”
Wallace blanched. Then he squared his shoulders and looked down his nose at the agent. “I want my lawyer.”
Siobahn turned away, tears stinging her eyes. As she passed close to Wallace, he leaned over. “I never wanted you hurt, Siobahn. Please believe that. You’re like a daughter to me.”
Her throat tightened, cutting off her air for a moment. Choking, she pushed through the crowd of agents into th
e main restaurant. Only when she reached the relative quiet of the dining room was she able to take a deep breath.
Her knees gave out and she sank into the nearest chair. Then she put her head in her hands and wept.
At some point she registered that she wasn’t alone. Ryker’s familiar soap-and-aftershave scent identified him without forcing her to lift her tear stained face. When she finally raised her head, she discovered that they were alone in the restaurant. Through the window she saw a few agents lingering in the courtyard, but everyone else had left.
“I’m sorry, Siobahn. I wish it could have turned out differently.” The sympathy in Ryker’s eyes almost started a new bout of crying. Except she felt as if she’d been completely drained of tears.
She shrugged.
“Come on.” Ryker stood up and held out his hand. “I’ll take you home.”
She rose and entwined her fingers with his. “Will you stay with me?”
He squeezed her hand and shot her a look so laden with emotion her heart soared. “Always.”
Epilogue
Four Weeks Later
Ryker tapped his dessert spoon against the side of his water glass. Immediately all eyes at Siobahn’s dining room table turned toward him. He’d arranged for the key SSU players—Gabby Montague and Rafe Andros, Niko Andros and his wife Jenna, Kai Paterson and his fiancée Susana Dias, Mark Tonelli and Faith Andrews, and Toby Andrews—to meet here at Siobahn’s house in Georgetown in order to celebrate the end to the Kerberos situation.
“I would like to propose a toast.” Ryker raised his wine glass. “To perseverance. Honor. Loyalty. Integrity. Thanks to each and every one of you sitting around this table for your hard work and sacrifice in the pursuit of bringing Kerberos and Kaufmann’s program into the light.”
The assembled guests raised their glasses. “Hear, hear.” Faces broke into grins as they clinked their glasses together.
“To truth, justice and the SSU!” Toby called out. His release from the DOD had just been finalized. As of two days ago, he’d become the newest SSU member.
Another round of encouragement rang out.
“What’s happening with Senator Wallace?” Kai asked.
Ryker caught the flash of sadness on Siobahn’s face. She was coping, but it would take time for the pain of Wallace’s betrayal to fade.
“He is being carefully guarded by a multi-agency team whose members have been cleared of any involvement with Jamieson or Kaufmann,” Ryker said. “Wallace still insists he’s done nothing wrong and has refused to talk during interrogations. He claims that the packet in his coat that contained traces of the poison found in the coffee from Siobahn’s cup was planted by the FBI. Even though the video clearly shows him reaching into his coat pocket then dumping the contents of the packet into the cup. As far as tying him to Nevsky and then to Jamieson and Kaufmann, the data team is making progress on recovering the files he’d tried to wipe from his computer.”
“The joint CIA and SSU team assigned to pulling data from Kerberos’s computers has uncovered some incriminating files that point to collaboration between Jamieson and the senator,” Mark Tonelli added. “After the data has been reviewed it will be given over to the prosecution as leverage to get the senator to talk.”
A smile touched Ryker’s lips. The former CIA agent had come a long way from the arrogant bastard who’d sat in Ryker’s office all those months ago and demanded to accompany Jenna Paterson to Moscow. Tonelli had always made no secret of the fact he considered the SSU an inferior, poorly skilled organization that had no legitimate role in the national security infrastructure. But the man’s attitude had done a one-eighty since he’d contacted Ryker from Moscow asking for a deal in exchange for help taking down Jamieson. Ryker had never asked, but Faith had hinted that Tonelli’s change of heart had started with his visit to Dr. Ivanov’s lab. Ivanov had been a colleague of Dr. Nevsky’s, running similar experiments aimed at creating a super soldier or assassin. Having seen the videos recovered from Ivanov’s compound, Ryker could well believe those atrocities would change a man.
Once Ryker had agreed to Tonelli’s deal, the man had bent over backwards to live up to his word. He’d passed on information that the SSU had used to tighten the noose around Jamieson and Kaufmann. Tonelli had also been instrumental in bringing Toby home. Now his loyalty appeared to be with the SSU, to the extent that Ryker had made Tonelli a job offer. However, as Ryker had expected, the man had refused. He claimed he was going to start his own business, probably importing luxury goods from abroad.
Ryker figured Tonelli’s relationship with Faith had something to do with his desire to get out of the intelligence business.
“Since we’re on the subject of updates,” Ryker said, “Rafe, what’s the latest on the South Dakota compound?”
“As we suspected, it was an insular unit. The main purpose appears to have been to serve as a backup site storing not just electronic data, but physical samples of Kaufmann’s drugs.”
Next to Rafe, Gabby stiffened in her chair and shot an angry glance at the white bandage across his right cheekbone. Ryker knew she hadn’t liked Rafe leading the assault team on the new compound any more than he had. They both felt Rafe had suffered enough at Kaufmann’s hands. Yet Rafe had made the right decision. Sending in a team that understood the strengths and weaknesses of Kaufmann’s enhanced soldiers had been invaluable.
“The compound contained a small lab,” Rafe continued, “with just enough equipment to manufacture the drugs needed to keep the compound’s three teams of enhanced soldiers in good shape until they could be rotated out. By the time our assault team went in, the teams had deteriorated to the point where their rages had become a danger to the administrative and scientific staff. Six of the twenty-four enhanced men were killed during our attack.”
“The remaining men were sent to our lab in Georgia and are responding well to treatment,” Gabby added. Since the men were in stable condition, she and Kai had flown up from Georgia for the weekend, leaving the care and observation of the rescued men to their capable staff.
That also gave Gabby some rare personal time with Rafe and allowed Kai to catch up with his fiancée, archaeologist Susana Dias. Susana was in town to give a series of talks at the Smithsonian on her excavation of the lost city of Amarinis in the Amazon Jungle of Brazil.
“Those of Kaufmann’s victims who have completed our drug regimen have been sent to the Oregon compound to finish their recuperation,” Gabby said. With a glance across the table, she passed the conversational baton to Jenna.
“We’ve had an increase in the number of patients who volunteer at the wildlife rehabilitation center,” Jenna said. “Including many of the men rescued from Kaufmann’s program. Our new art program is also proving popular.” The SSU maintained a wildlife rehabilitation center at its Oregon compound. Treatment plans for recuperating agents and their families often included time spent handling the animals and birds of prey. Following the attack on her family that had nearly killed her, Jenna had found working with the birds of prey extremely therapeutic. When she’d later proposed ways to improve the program, Ryker had put her in charge of implementing the changes.
Drawing on her background as an art history major, Jenna had also suggested that the SSU set up a therapeutic arts program where agents could create art in order to express difficult emotions. Ryker had given her the go ahead to start the program, which had been up and running for a couple of weeks now. At least two psychiatrists were present at the arts center during the day, in order to handle any emotional outbursts that might occur if a project caused an upwelling of violent emotions that the volunteer staff couldn’t handle.
“There’s even been talk of putting some of the art on display,” Jenna added.
“Good,” Ryker said. “I think that’s a great idea.” He might even create a piece himself, as a way to work through the lingering emotions from this whole Kerberos mess. “What else?”
“The hazmat team has cleared the S
outh Dakota compound and it’s scheduled for destruction in a few days,” Rafe said. “All samples have been turned over to the appropriate agencies, and the one vial of Agent Styx that we discovered has been secured.” He reached out and squeezed Gabby’s hand.
Gabby’s father had been one of the soldiers in Vietnam who’d been given Agent Styx. His bouts of uncontrollable rage had lasted until his death over a decade after the end of the war. Gabby had always suspected that her father had been killed because he’d started investigating who had authorized the continued use of Agent Styx despite the negative side effects. Data recovered from the raid on Kerberos confirmed that in order to stop her father’s investigation, Jamieson and Wallace had arranged for the car crash that had killed her parents.
“The DEA believes none of Kaufmann’s substances made it to market,” Niko said. After data had been recovered suggesting that Kaufmann had been trying to circumvent Jamieson and sell some of his chemicals internationally, Niko had been assigned to work with his former colleagues at the DEA to determine if any of the drugs had actually started circulating.
“My contacts agree,” Tonelli said. As part of his CIA cover as a wealthy international businessman willing to ignore legalities in exchange for profit, Tonelli had contacts in many of the black markets of the world.
“Same here,” Faith piped up. She and Tonelli shared one of those secret glances so common between lovers.
Ryker caught the amusement on Susanna’s face as she watched Tonelli and Faith. A few months ago, Tonelli had appeared enamored of Susana and had helped protect her from men who wanted to kill her in order to gain access to the microchip her father, Dr. Nevsky, had surgically implanted in her abdomen. While Tonelli’s actions had prevented Kerberos’s troops from killing Susana, Tonelli had earned Kai’s wrath when he kidnapped Susana, took her to Moscow and handed her over to Nevsky’s colleague, Dr. Ivanov.
In the end, though, Tonelli had suffered a change of heart and helped the SSU rescue both Susana and the chip. And he’d saved Kai’s life, giving him the antidote to the deadly poison that had been part of the booby-trap surrounding the microchip.