She wished she could say good-bye to him, tell him she loved him, tell him that he had to find a way to allow himself to love someone back, because he wasn't meant for the lonely existence he'd chosen. He could find a woman who would stand by him, who wouldn't betray him, who would love him for the rest of his life. He just had to be open to it.
A crash came from somewhere in the warehouse, followed by the smell of smoke.
She stiffened, hope rushing through her veins.
Elena exchanged a look with the man behind her. "Find out what's going on," she ordered.
As the man moved toward the hallway, she caught a glimpse of someone moving along a raised platform behind Elena. She didn't want Elena to see him.
"Please, let me go," she told Elena, drawing the woman's attention back to her. She didn't want to beg, but she wanted to keep Elena focused on her. "I'm not involved in any of this. I'm not going to talk. I don't care what you do. I'll move away. You'll never see me again. No one will be looking for me; my parents are both dead."
"You're stalling, Sophie."
"What about the money? Don't you want that? My dad left me a suitcase filled with cash. I have it stashed somewhere. I could get it for you."
Elena looked marginally interested. "I'm sure I can find it after you're dead." She tilted her head, giving her a thoughtful look. "Oh, I see. You think he's coming for you, don't you? He won't get here in time." Elena lifted her gun.
Sophie fought hard to keep her eyes open and not cower in her chair. She was going to fight to the last breath. She had to. She turned her head to the right, seeing nothing and no one coming to rescue her, but pretending like she was. "Thank God," she murmured. "You're here."
It was enough of a ruse to make Elena look.
In that split second of distraction, a shot rang out, and Elena went down.
She fell onto her back right in front of Sophie, a hole in the middle of her forehead, her eyes opened in shock and disbelief.
She had died in an instant.
Sophie found herself wishing Elena had suffered a little longer.
Pounding footsteps made her fear what was coming next.
And then she saw Damon, coming down a ladder. He dropped to his feet and ran toward her, his gun in his hand, relief flashing through his eyes. He stopped for a quick minute to make sure Elena was dead and then he came to her.
"Sophie!" he said in a voice choked with emotion.
"I'm all right. But there are other men here. I don't know where they are."
"Wyatt and I took care of everyone else. She was the last one."
"I thought I smelled smoke."
"Wyatt started a small fire to lure out Elena's bodyguard. Then he took him out." Damon pulled out his keys and used the small penknife to slice through the plastic ties. Then he kissed her on the lips and put his arms around her, pressing her into the tightest and most welcome embrace of her life. "Thank God you're all right."
She wrapped her arms around his neck, overwhelmed with gratitude that he was alive, too, that they were both safe. But then she heard sirens and the fear returned. "We need to get out of here. The police are coming, and I'm sure the FBI won't be far behind."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "We're not running anymore."
"We aren't?" she asked in confusion.
"I recorded your conversation with Elena," he said, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "Wyatt called Peter once Elena confirmed that Peter is innocent. He's on his way. It's over, Sophie."
"I want to believe that, but what about Michael Brennan, and the Venturis, and—"
He put his fingers against her mouth. "We're going to take them all down."
"Do we have enough evidence?"
"If we don't, we'll get it."
"What about Karen? Is she dead? Elena said she was."
"She was alive when I left, but I don't know if she'll make it." He paused. "Did you hear what Karen said?"
"About sleeping with my father and being blackmailed? Yeah, I heard that. I wonder if she even cared about him at all or if she was just using him."
"I think a lot of things will become clear as we dig into this."
"I just don't understand why my dad didn't tell me that Michael and Elena were blackmailing him. At least I would have had that information."
"The more you knew, the more danger you would be in. He was trying to protect you. And I think, in some ways, he was trying to prevent you from knowing what he'd done. That's why he made plans for you to leave."
She stood up as Wyatt entered the room, followed by Peter Hunt and a half-dozen agents and cops.
Peter came toward her, apology in his eyes. "My God, Sophie. I am so sorry."
His words seemed bitterly ironic. "That's exactly what you said to me last Wednesday when you came to tell me that my father was dead."
"I meant it then, too," he said heavily.
"Why didn't you tell me that you knew my father was a double agent? Elena said that they fed you that information a few weeks ago."
"I was still reviewing it. I'm always skeptical of evidence that comes my way too easily. There's usually an agenda behind it."
Maybe Peter wasn't as dumb as Elena had made him out to be. "Did you know about Karen Leigh, too?"
He shook his head, as anger filled his eyes. "No, I didn't. Not until today. Agent Adams read me in at the hospital."
"Is Karen dead?" Damon asked.
"She's still in surgery," Peter replied. "There's a slim chance she'll make it. Agent Adams turned over the recording she made of your conversation at the park. Even if Karen doesn't recover, we have her last words." He paused. "You should have come to me, Damon. That first night when I asked you into my office, you should have told me you were going after Sophie."
"I hadn't decided at that point," Damon replied. "I wasn't sure she was at the cabin; it was a hunch."
"One you should have shared."
"I'm not going to apologize when God knows how many people in the field office you oversee are compromised," he returned.
Sophie sucked in a breath as anger flared in Peter's eyes.
"I do not believe that anyone else is compromised," Peter said.
"You don't know that for sure," she said. "Elena told me her in-laws are part of a powerful crime family. How did you not know that Michael's ex-wife was tied to organized crime?"
"I never had any reason to look into Katya's background. And they've been divorced for almost ten years now. As for Michael, his business has always been clean. I know that hedge funds can be used to launder money; I checked him out a long time ago. I wanted to be sure our friendship could never be questioned."
"Well you didn't dig deep enough," she said.
"That's going to change. Wyatt played me the recording of your conversation with Elena. I'm on my way to see Michael now. If we get him to cooperate, and I think he will considering his daughter is dead, we'll be able to nail the Belenkos and the Venturis to the wall."
"I want to come with you," she said. "Don't tell me I can't, Peter, because I have to see the man who lent my father money to save my mother's life, knowing that the Belenkos would then force him into becoming a traitor. Did you know that the Belenkos threatened my life? That they sent my father pictures of me, telling him that they could get to me at any time?"
"I didn't," Peter said.
"My father was trapped. He could do what they wanted him to do, or he could watch me die. But he couldn't kill Wyatt. That was the one thing he couldn't do. So, the Belenkos killed my dad, and Michael Brennan knew about it. He's going to tell me how he could do that to his friend. He owes me that. And, so, do you."
"Then let's go," Peter said grimly.
Twenty-One
Despite her forceful plea to Peter, Sophie was a little surprised that he'd agreed to let her come along, but they were now driving to Michael Brennan's house in a bullet-proof, black Escalade. Wyatt and Peter sat in the middle row, discussing various aspects of the case, wh
ile she and Damon sat in the back row, their fingers intertwined.
She couldn't seem to let go of Damon, and he couldn't seem to let go of her. That would probably change when the shock wore off, but for now she was happy to hang on to him.
"Thanks for saving me again," she said quietly. "I was afraid it was going to be three strikes and you're out."
He gave her a smile. "You're channeling Jamie with the baseball metaphor."
"I am," she admitted. "By the way, how did you know where to find me?"
"Wyatt saw them grab you. He was chasing Elena out of the park after she shot Karen. When he saw the Venturi van, he guessed where they'd be taking you. He knew the way things worked there, the layout inside, where the guards would be. We took out the two guys by the front door, then got inside. We would have moved in earlier, but you were getting some good information out of Elena. We thought we should let her talk."
"She was talking to me, because she wanted to brag, and she didn't plan on me living to tell anyone about our conversation. When I saw a shadow on a ledge behind her, I was hoping it was you, but I wasn't sure."
"I was getting into position. Thanks for distracting her by the way."
"It was all I could think to do. You made a tremendously good shot—one bullet right in the center of her forehead." A chill ran through her as she saw Elena's image again in her head. "I think she was stunned that she'd been caught. It was in her eyes when she fell to the ground. I'm glad she knew. She was so full of herself. She thought she could rule the world."
"Not with us in it," Damon said.
She smiled. "At least not with you in it."
"You did your part. I probably should have shot her in the arm, but I couldn't risk her taking a shot at you. Keeping her alive might have given us more evidence."
"I'm glad she's dead. I know that I probably shouldn't admit to that, but it's true. She was a bad person. I knew she was wild when I was a kid, but I didn't know how horrible she was. She had no heart, no soul. It was terrifying to see nothing in her eyes. I think she killed her brother, too. The family believes he's traveling around the world, but she made it sound like he's never coming back."
"I heard that. She didn't want to share her power."
"He was also bad." She paused, remember what had made her look up the Brennans again. "Her brother had a ring with the same design as the tattoo. I knew I'd seen it before. When I was waiting in the car, I was thinking about the tattoo so I wouldn't worry about you taking on Karen, and I remembered being at a party when I was a teenager. I bumped into a guy, my hair got caught in his ring, and I shivered when I saw this red eye looking back at me. I think now the symbol is probably from Ukrainian culture and tied to the Belenkos."
"The man in the storage unit was probably tied to them, too; that's why there was no record of him in this country." Damon paused. "I found your phone and I saw the photos of the Brennans. I showed Wyatt the picture of Elena, and he confirmed she was the woman he'd seen last night at the meeting with Karen."
"I thought I saw Elena going into the park, but it seemed like such a ridiculous idea that I couldn't quite believe it. I tried to say something to you, but you were already talking to Karen."
A light came into his eyes. "You did say something about someone else being there."
"I guess I should have said it louder." She took a breath. "I'm glad you took out Elena, but I'm worried the rest of the rats are going to scatter."
"More likely they're going to talk. When the boss is dead, the first people to talk usually get the best deal."
"But only one boss is dead. Stefan Venturi is still alive and so are Elena's uncles."
"We'll get them all," he promised. "I'm not stopping until that happens."
"The one I want the most is Michael. Maybe he runs a clean business, but when it comes to my father, his hands have blood on them."
"I know."
"I hope he's home," she said, as the car stopped in front of Michael Brennan's home on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. The luxury home came with two security guards out front, but Peter's badge forced the men to step aside.
They found Michael Brennan on the second floor in his study, standing in front of his floor- to-ceiling windows with a spectacular view of the Hudson River, sipping what appeared to be a whiskey. He didn't look surprised to see them when he turned around. He looked resigned…
"Is my daughter alive?" he asked.
She couldn't believe the lack of emotion in his question. Maybe all the Brennans were devoid of heart.
"No," she said, taking the lead from the three men behind her. She took a step forward. "She's as dead as my father is. And you stand here, having your drink, as if nothing in the world has changed? What is wrong with you?"
"I'm very aware that everything has changed, Sophie," he said, meeting her gaze. "I never wanted your father in the middle of any of this, but he was desperate for my money. So, I helped him."
"You didn't help him. You made him your pawn."
"Not my pawn. I didn't force him to do anything."
"No, you let your family do that. Do you think that makes you innocent?"
"You don't understand. It didn't start out that way, but the more money he needed, the more interest he drew from my in-laws. I was under pressure to utilize his connections. I—I had my own problems to deal with—a wife who couldn't get through a day without a drink, a son who was willing to waste his life snorting coke and getting involved with under-aged girls, and a daughter who was, sadly, as evil as her uncles. She told them about my relationship with Alan, the money he owed me, owed the family, really, because Katya funded my business in the beginning. It was her money that she'd brought with her and the Belenkos made sure I knew that. I wasn't just lending my money; I was lending theirs. That's why I told your father no at first. But he begged me. He said he had to do everything he could to save Maggie."
"Did he pay you back?"
"He couldn't. He got too far in debt. You have no idea how much it all cost, and he spared no expense. So he did a few favors, small things, nothing that raised suspicion. But a few years ago, the family wanted more from him. They wanted to expand their operations in New York. They needed an agent in the New York office. Alan had to be that agent. I made sure he knew that more might be required of him. I urged him to retire, to leave the FBI, to make himself unimportant."
She was shocked to hear that. "Why didn't he do that?"
"He said he needed the money."
Her heart twisted. "For my schooling?"
"He didn't say. I knew he was going to be in trouble. Elena was making a play for power. She wanted to impress her uncles and also the Venturis. She was angry with me for leaving her mother. I didn't want her to hate me. I tried to get her to lay off of Alan, but she wouldn't."
"So, you gave her what she wanted—my father on a silver platter," she said bitterly.
"I didn't know how to stop her. I didn't see a way to contain her ambition. Your father was willing to do anything to save his family. I was willing to do anything to make my daughter love me again."
"Make her love you?" Sophie echoed in bewilderment. "She was incapable of love. Do you know where your son is?"
He paled. "He's traveling."
She could see the truth in his eyes. "You don’t believe that."
He finished off his drink. "I've called my lawyer. He'll be here soon."
"A lawyer isn't going to help you," Damon said, stepping up next to her. "You're going to go down for multiple murders and a whole list of other crimes. If you turn evidence on the Belenkos and the Venturis, you may be able to shorten your sentence."
"He's right," Peter put in. "You should have told me, Michael. If you wanted to get out, you should have told me."
"He never wanted to get out," she said. "He just wants to pretend that he did now, so he can make himself feel better. If he has regrets, it makes it all okay."
"That's not true," Michael said. "It's not okay, and I know it. I neve
r thought things would go this far. I never imagined that Alan would die. I'm sorry, Sophie."
"And I'm really tired of people apologizing to me for things they should have done differently."
Michael's gaze moved from her to Peter. "They're coming after you next, Peter."
"I know," Peter said. "Who else at the Bureau is involved? I need names, Michael, every single one."
"As far as I know—only the woman who was shot in the park today."
"You know about that?" Sophie asked.
"I was recently informed," he admitted.
"I'm surprised you didn't run," she said.
He gave her a tired smile. "The world is a very small place, and even if the FBI couldn't find me, the Belenkos could. There's only one way for me to be free. It's almost a relief," Michael added, his voice getting thick, his words slurring. "I don't know why I fought it for so long. I had so much in my life, but not the most important things—love and family. Maybe I'll find Elena again in another life, and she'll be the girl I remember, not the woman she grew up to be."
Sophie's gaze narrowed. "What's wrong with you?" she asked.
"He took something," Damon said, striding forward as Michael fell to the ground.
Peter rushed to Michael's side, putting his hand on Michael's neck. "There's no pulse." He pushed Michael onto his back and started CPR.
Damon called 911, requesting an ambulance.
For long minutes, Peter, Wyatt and Damon took turns working on Michael, trying to bring him back to life. But it was to no avail. By the time the paramedics arrived, he'd been dead for several minutes.
As the medics put Michael on a stretcher and carried him out, Sophie went over to Peter. He looked shell-shocked. It seemed as if he'd aged ten years in the last few minutes. "You did everything you could," she said.
"I didn't do nearly enough." He looked at her through strained, exhausted eyes. "And I'm not talking about Michael; I should have known your dad was in trouble. I should have asked more questions about why he left Quantico. He loved the academy. I didn't understand why he wanted to leave there to come to New York, but now I do. He still had a debt to pay."
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