by Will Jordan
‘Tired? Edgy? Short-tempered?’ She flashed a rueful grin, but he couldn’t tell if it was forced. ‘All of the above, I’m afraid. It’s been a long night, you know?’
He did. But that didn’t mean fatigue and stress were the root of the problem.
‘I know, but… we’ve both had our share of long nights. This is different. I’ve seen you beat down, hurt, exhausted and very, very pissed off,’ he added with a knowing smile, hoping to lower her guard. ‘But this is the first time I’ve seen you… scared.’
She didn’t say anything; didn’t agree with him or contradict him. That alone was enough to convince him to keep going.
‘I’m not in the business of judging people. Least of all you,’ he ventured. ‘If you want to keep stuff to yourself, that’s your choice. I won’t hold it against you. But it’s just the two of us here, and I’m not going anywhere for at least…’ He checked his watch. ‘Fifty-eight minutes. If you want to talk, I’ll listen.’
He could see she was struggling, torn between loyalty to him, and… what? Fear? Fear of him, or something else?
‘Do you trust me, Ryan?’ she finally asked, staring off into the shadows.
‘More than anyone in this building,’ he answered truthfully. And that was saying something, considering some of the people under this roof.
‘And you trust that I’m a good person.’
‘Of course.’
She sighed and nodded, though it was a while before she felt ready to speak. ‘I told you once about my family, that my dad was all I had. It wasn’t always like that.’
Drake said nothing. She needed to get this out, but she needed to do it in her own time, without prompting.
‘I had a brother. Liam, three years older than me.’ She smiled as her mind replayed old, bittersweet memories. ‘There’s no other way of saying it – Liam was a real pain in the ass. Always teasing me, playing pranks, making fun of me in front of his friends. The way big brothers do, I guess. We used to argue and fight like cat and dog… drove Mom and Dad crazy.
‘But you know the funny thing? Once a year we’d go on vacation – we’d head to Colorado for the summer, camp out in the Rockies. I used to love it there, and so did he. That was when he was different with me. Because no one knew us there, didn’t expect anything, we didn’t have to be brother and sister. For a week or two, I guess we could just be… friends.’
He saw her swallow, saw her blink back tears and guessed what was coming. ‘I was eight when he died. My mom was driving through an intersection with Liam in the back seat, some guy ran a red light… usual story. She didn’t even see it coming, and neither did Liam. He took the full force of the hit, died pretty much instantly. Just like that, done.’
‘I’m so sorry, Sam,’ Drake said, well aware of how inadequate such words were. She had never told him any of this before.
She managed a faint smile, acknowledging his intent. ‘My mom… I think that crash broke her. I don’t mean physically. She walked away with barely a scratch, but she was never the same. I heard her arguing with Dad later, heard her say she wished she’d been killed as well. She could barely bring herself to look at me. I think she blamed herself for what happened, and I was just a reminder of what she’d lost.’ Samantha shrugged then, cutting away from the old pain. ‘She left about a month after the funeral. Just got in her car, drove off one night and didn’t come back. I never saw her again.
‘So that was it – it was just me and Dad from there on out. He’d lost pretty much everything, had his life fall down around his ears, and all he was left with was an angry, frightened eight-year-old kid to raise by himself.’ She shook her head, as if she still couldn’t comprehend what had transpired. ‘A lot of guys would have lost it then, hit the bottle, gone off the rails, and I wouldn’t blame a single one of them. But not him. He sat me down the morning after Mom left and said that it was going to be the two of us for a while, and that it wasn’t going to be like before. We were a team now, we had to work together, and no matter what happened, he would never, ever leave me. And I believed him… maybe because I needed something to have faith in. But whatever the reason, he kept his word. It was like… the more pressure he was under, the calmer he got. I’ll never understand how he did it, but somehow he got through it. He pulled us both through.’
Only then did she finally look at him, and he saw tears glistening in her eyes.
‘When I said he was all I had left, I meant exactly that, Ryan. He was the only person who stuck around, never let me down, never gave up on me.’ She swallowed, glancing up at the ceiling high above, now bathed in darkness. ‘What we’re doing here… it’s a declaration of war. If Downfall fails, Cain will come after us with everything he’s got, and he won’t show any mercy. He’ll target anyone close to us, including my dad. And I’m scared… scared that I’m going to lose him.’
Drake felt like the breath had been punched out of him. He couldn’t believe Samantha had been carrying such a burden all this time, that she had never told him about the tragedy that had struck so early in her life or the struggles that had followed.
‘Sam, why didn’t you tell me? We could have gotten to him, found a safe—’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not that simple. My dad’s old now, and sick. There’s nowhere for him to go, and we’d have risked the whole group trying to protect him. I couldn’t do that to them, to him… to you.’
Drake had moved close to her now, wanting to comfort her, wanting to somehow shield her from the grief and sadness that seemed to be closing in all around. But he couldn’t. This was something that had been festering inside her for a long time. A few hastily spoken words wouldn’t do anything to change that.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, Ryan,’ she said, tears streaking her cheeks. It was all coming out now; there was no stopping it. ‘I’m sorry about a lot of things. I just… I didn’t want to make things worse, didn’t want to add to your problems. I tried to—’
He silenced her then, cupping her chin and tilting her head back, pressing his mouth against hers. Not hard or demanding, but slow and gentle, almost tentative, as if it were the first time he’d ever done it.
He didn’t even know for sure why he did it. Every rational instinct in his body told him it was wrong, that it was dangerous and foolish to do such a thing at a moment like this, but he just couldn’t help it. It felt right in a way that went far deeper than reason or rationality.
He felt a moment of tension, of hesitation at this sudden move. She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t been ready for it. Her full lips parted slightly as instinct and carefully repressed desire took over, and she let out a soft moan as he pulled her closer.
When he drew back, her eyes were staring into his, still shining with grief, the pupils dilated in the dim light. Her breathing was coming faster now, her body trembling beneath his touch as they held each other in that moment, bodies just inches apart.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, feeling suddenly self-conscious over what he’d done. ‘I shouldn’t have—’
He didn’t get a chance to say anything more as she kissed him again, and pretty soon he realized it no longer mattered. It was as if a dam had suddenly given way within her, and she wanted, needed nothing but him. Before he knew it, her arms were around his neck, her fingers running through his hair, her body pressed hard against his, her breath warm and close against his cheek.
Their kiss was no longer gentle or tentative as they fell to the floor together, fighting with each other’s clothes, pulling and tearing at ties and belts, desperately seeking one another in the only way that mattered to either of them now.
‘Now,’ she whispered in his ear, yanking her trousers down. ‘I need you now.’
She held him tight, her fingers digging painfully into his back as he entered her. This wasn’t tender and careful lovemaking, and she didn’t want it to be. That wasn’t what she needed now. She closed her eyes and let out a low groan of pain and hunger, trying to keep from c
rying out as her body matched his, moving faster and harder with each thrust.
Images of her father, of Cain, of Drake and all the others whirled through her mind in a confusing kaleidoscope of memories and emotions, and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter to stop the tears coming. But even as they threatened to overwhelm her, she could feel them fading, burning away in the rising fire within her as the sensations rose to an unbearable peak.
And at last, she found the release she’d craved.
Nearby, Anya turned away from the scene, wishing she could cover her ears against the sounds of their lovemaking, wishing she could forget the sight of their straining bodies entwined.
She had lain awake, waiting until she was sure the others must be asleep before venturing out into the main warehouse to speak with Drake, hoping to find him alone, hoping to somehow make amends for what had happened earlier. She wasn’t accustomed to apologizing to anyone, to admitting a bad decision or a lapse in judgement, but she’d been willing to do so tonight. After everything Drake had done, everything he’d sacrificed and lost because of her, she owed him that much.
And in truth, there was far more she wanted to say to him. It had been three years since they’d first met, yet their actual time together had been agonizingly brief. There had always been some new crisis brewing, some outside force pulling them apart. Never enough time to say what she needed to say.
Tonight she’d hoped to finally put that right. She’d been ready for it. Ready to open up, to take a risk, to put her trust in another.
The sound of muffled conversation as she’d approached had told her someone had beaten her to it, and curiosity had compelled her to listen in. Trained as she was to move unseen, it had been easy enough to slip silently through the shadows.
She hadn’t been surprised to find McKnight there, but even she hadn’t expected this. More than that, she hadn’t expected the response it evoked in her.
She’d known it was happening between them of course. Living together as Drake and McKnight had, it was obvious what would happen. Even Anya had been young once, and knew all too well the power of such desires. She’d told herself it was a logical choice, that they made sense together, that Drake deserved someone who could offer him a normal life, a chance at a future.
Things she herself could never give him.
But actually seeing it with her own eyes, hearing the sounds of them coming together… that was something else entirely. That was when logic and common sense came undone, when her objectivity failed her. And that was when she felt an ache, an emptiness deep inside, as if some great gulf had been torn open.
Leaving as silently as she had come, she crept back to the derelict storage room that served as her sleeping quarters. A box of a room with crumbling plasterboard walls, measuring eight feet wide by ten feet long. She knew because she’d paced out the distance, just as she’d done every day in that freezing, squalid prison cell in Russia where she’d spent four years of her life.
As foolish as it seemed, that was still her standard of measure. Any room that worked out bigger was an improvement in her mind.
Lying down on the hard floor, she pulled the sleeping bag around her and drew her knees up to her chest, curling into a ball as if trying to protect herself from the pain. Another action she’d had a lot of chances to practice in her life.
She lay there, alone in the dark, hearing only the sound of her own breathing. She supposed she’d been alone most of her life, one way or the other, but never had she felt it more keenly than at that moment.
Angry at such thoughts of self-pity, Anya squeezed her eyes shut and tried to empty her mind, willing herself to surrender to sleep, though she knew it was a wasted effort. Sleep would be a long time coming tonight.
Part Three
Culmination
In 2010, a report by the London School of Economics purported to have uncovered concrete evidence that the ISI was providing funding, training and sanctuary to the Taliban on a scale much larger than previously thought, even attending meetings with the Taliban’s supreme council.
Chapter 40
The new day dawned cloudy and indistinct in northern Pakistan, the sun visible only as a brightly luminous patch in the early morning haze that seemed to linger over the city of Rawalpindi. Whatever heat had bled off into space during the night soon returned with a vengeance as the temperature and humidity began to climb along with the sun.
It wasn’t long before the streets began to fill with traffic and pedestrians as the population awoke from its slumber, millions of inhabitants heading out to work, to school, to shops and to the countless other places their daily lives took them. And all of them were oblivious to the events that were to play out tonight.
Drake and his team, however, had been awake long before that, already preparing themselves for the tasks that lay ahead. It was fair to say that none of them had enjoyed a particularly restful night; the combination of nervous tension, physical discomfort and growing anticipation conspiring to prevent all but the most fleeting snatches of sleep.
As a result, nobody was feeling very talkative as they ate a meagre breakfast of cereal bars and bottled water. Frost in particular looked abjectly miserable. She ate like a starving man most of the time, but on her own terms. As far as she was concerned, any breakfast that didn’t contain large quantities of fried meat was a waste of space.
Still, they were here, they were awake, and they had a few hours left to finish their preparations for the house assault tonight.
‘All right, to-do list,’ Drake said, taking a gulp of water. ‘Cole, you’re on weapons and equipment detail. Give everything a final check, then get it stashed away in case any of our neighbours get curious about us.’
The warehouse was well surveilled by the cameras they had set up, but it was far from impregnable. And it was in the middle of a heavily used industrial district. The last thing they needed was for some curious local to poke his nose in and find tables of weapons and ammunition laid out for the world to see.
‘Copy that.’
‘Keira, stay in touch with Dan back at Langley. The minute Cain’s plane hits the tarmac, I want to know about it.’
Frost gave a less than enthusiastic nod. ‘I’m on it. What about you?’
He gave her a knowing smile. ‘I’m going car shopping.’
The Bukhanka might have been sufficient to get them this far, but when it came time to make their escape from the safe house, they were going to need something fast, powerful and manoeuvrable. A 20-year-old panel van with an exhaust system held together by little more than patch welds and chewing gum just wasn’t going to cut it.
Purchasing a vehicle at short notice with limited identification wasn’t easy, but he was willing to bet there were dealers in this city prepared to part with their car for a healthy wad of cash, no questions asked. It was just a matter of finding them.
‘I’ll tag along, make sure you don’t buy us a lemon,’ McKnight ventured. ‘I’m going to be driving the damn thing anyway.’
‘No faith,’ Drake said, feigning wounded pride.
‘I’ve seen how you drive, Ryan. It isn’t pretty.’
Things were different between the two of them this morning – easier, less fraught and strained. Maybe her admission last night had helped clear the air, or perhaps it was what had come afterwards that really made the difference. Whatever the reason, Drake wasn’t complaining.
‘Fair enough, you’re in.’ Then, seeing that she’d barely touched her food, he added, ‘Might be a while before our next meal. You sure you don’t want that?’
At this, her playful mood seemed to dissipate. She shrugged, trying to look casual about it. ‘I’m not hungry right now.’
Drake frowned, surprised. Like the rest of them, she hadn’t had a proper meal since leaving France, and that had been a good 24 hours ago. Was she feeling unwell? Looking closer, he couldn’t help noticing her pale complexion…
‘What about me?’ Anya interjected. ‘Where
do you want me?’
‘Why don’t you keep an eye on the perimeter,’ he suggested, trying to think of a way to keep her out of trouble. ‘Make sure no one gets too close.’
He was expecting an argument on this, an insistence that she accompany Drake to find a suitable vehicle for tonight. So far on this operation, everything with her had been an argument, every decision contested, every point a struggle for control.
But to his surprise, the woman shrugged indifferently. ‘Whatever you say.’
A moment of confounded silence descended on the room, as if no one was quite sure what to say or do. Each was harbouring similar thoughts to Drake, wondering why Anya had suddenly become compliant and accommodating. But sure enough, it was Frost who finally broke the deadlock in her own unique way.
‘Well, shit,’ she declared, flashing one of the crooked grins Drake had come to know so well. ‘We’ve gotten through a whole meeting without an argument. Even I’m starting to believe this bullshit plan might actually work.’
‘Thanks for that vote of confidence, Keira,’ Drake said sarcastically.
‘I’m all about supporting others.’
In truth, though, he was pleased to find the atmosphere a little less combative than yesterday. Napoleon’s maxim that ‘in war, morale is everything’ had been true two centuries earlier, and it was no less so today.
Still, he was puzzled by Anya’s change in demeanour. It was possible that she’d decided to heed his advice about learning to work with his team, but he wasn’t convinced. Anya took advice like pop divas took criticism – badly. And there was something about the way she looked at him that suggested cooperation was the last thing on her mind.
Still, there was little to be gained by disrupting this new-found spirit of harmony, so he was content to let the matter rest for now. Standing up, he tossed his empty water bottle in the packing crate that served as their trash can, eager to get moving before someone found a reason to start an argument.