Who was no longer there.
“Where’d he go?”
Sherrie pulled his face back toward hers.
“He’s an agent. Probably where you’d least expect him.”
St. Paul’s University, Maryland
Kane peered through the rear door at the class in progress. Much more popular than I remember. He opened the door and stepped inside, making sure the door closed quietly behind him. Taking a seat in the very back, he pulled his ball cap low, leaving his sunglasses on, and listened to his favorite professor talk about the latest finds at his dig site in Peru.
Kane had kept tabs on Professor James Acton since he had heard the news reports he was missing, his entire team massacred at the very dig site he was now talking about. Needless to say he had been relieved reports of the Doc’s death were premature and exaggerated, and ever since, he had used his contacts to keep an eye on him and his exploits across the globe, cringing every time he read the briefs.
This was the man he had modeled himself after in a fashion. Kane knew he wasn’t an intellectual, but neither was the Doc. James Acton was an adventurer, trapped in an intellectual’s profession. A modern day reluctant hero who had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but always doing the right thing, even if it meant risking his own life and running toward the danger.
Kane had yearned to talk to the professor, to tell him what had come of his life, to tell him what he was doing. But it wasn’t just that. Kane yearned to tell someone. He couldn’t tell his folks, it would put them at risk. As far as they were concerned, he did indeed work for Shaw’s of London, travelling the globe on various insurance fraud investigations. And the amount of fretting his mom did just hearing about the cover stories sealed the deal on him ever telling them the truth.
She’d die from worry.
He knew his dad would be fiercely proud, but worried for him as well.
And they didn’t need that in their lives.
But he needed a confessor. Someone he could talk to. Someone he could get things off his chest to.
Someone he could trust.
He trusted Chris, but Chris was nearly his age. He needed a father confessor, not a younger brother. And Chris didn’t need to be burdened with the knowledge Kane carried. He smiled as he pictured his friend kissing a spectacular specimen that he hoped would treat him right. He would have loved to have stayed and spent time with them, but he knew his friend needed to be alone with his new partner, and he would have just been in the way.
He’d see him again.
After leaving Chris with Sherrie, he had arranged a simple message for a hurting detective in Ogden, left on the seat of his car.
Your partner has been avenged.
He was pretty sure it was true. Atticus Tucker was dead, and Bradley Finch had disappeared without a trace, and that just didn’t happen. There was always a trace. Perhaps not a trace that could actually be traced, but in this case there wasn’t even a hint of an escape from the country, accounts being accessed, reported sightings.
Kane’s guess was The Assembly had eliminated him.
The idea of The Assembly terrified him. If they were indeed real, the world had a bigger problem than two rogue executives trying to start a war. These people would try again, and more innocents like the Peterson’s and Shephard’s could be put at risk.
They had to be taken down, but right now, he didn’t even know where to start.
His debrief after the mission had indicated the rescued scientists and their families had been shocked to find he wasn’t on the submarine with them, and were even more shocked when they were told their cover stories. “Fantasy kidnapping.” Phil Hopkins had died in a fishing accident, his body never found, and Jason and Carl returned to their rebuilt lab, continuing their research. He knew they’d have a hell of a time recovering from their ordeal, and the outlandish cover story was designed with little Darius in mind. There was no way an eight year old could keep a secret like this, but if there was an alternate explanation, he’d be dismissed as confusing the fantasy vacation with reality.
It’s actually not a bad cover idea, come to think of it.
The class suddenly rose, emptying quickly. Kane waited, knowing full well if the Doc he remembered and respected were true to form, he’d wait until the last student left.
And he did.
Kane finally rose, walking down the steps to the bottom of the room where the professor stood, erasing the chalkboard.
“Professor Acton?”
The man who had helped him over ten years ago make the decision that had led him to becoming a spy for his country, turned to face him, a puzzled expression on his face as he tried to place the face that stood before him, then a smile spreading wide as he made the connection.
“Dylan!”
And before Kane realized what was happening, his mentor had embraced him, holding him tight for several seconds, Kane returning the hug, not realizing how much he needed it. Acton released him, but continued to hold him by the shoulders.
“How are you? How have you been?”
Kane smiled. “I’ve been good.”
“Been keeping yourself out of trouble?”
“No more than you have.”
Acton frowned, letting him go and pointing to a chair. Kane sat down, Acton across from him.
“I take it that means you’re still in the Army?”
Kane shook his head.
“No, that ended quite a few years ago.”
Acton’s eyes narrowed. “I get the sense there’s a ‘but’.”
Kane took a deep breath. To Hell with it. He needed a confidante, he needed someone he could trust, and he needed someone who had been to hell and back, that understood what it was like to kill or be killed, to make choices that could mean the death of innocents.
He needed the Doc.
“I’m an operator with the Special Activities Division of the Special Operations Group in the CIA.”
Acton’s eyebrows shot up.
“You’re a spy.”
Kane nodded.
“Then I have just one question.”
“What’s that, Doc?”
“Twenty years from now, when you’re sitting with your family, can you look them in the eye, and know you made the right choices for the right reasons?”
Kane felt his chest tighten and his heart slam against his ribcage as he dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut, the images of his one regret surging forward.
“All but one,” he gasped, his chest heaving as he confessed his greatest sin to the one man who might understand.
And once again, he felt his confessor’s arms envelope him, returning him to his own safe place, his freshman archaeology class, when life was simpler, and free of the darkness he now knew existed throughout the world.
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The name Kane came after hours in front of random name generators, dozens of combinations run past focus groups (family and friends!), and in the end Kane became an “easy” surname decision. With the surname chosen, it was time to select a first name. After much more deliberation, an obvious choice presented itself when a story was told to me of a young man who is a friend of the family. He suffers from Muscular Dystrophy, and at the time of this writing, this twenty year old may soon lose a leg. This gentle giant (he’s six foot eleven!) wants nothing more than to be a chef, and I hope regardless of whether he stands on the two legs God gave him, or one that is “Manmade”, he continues to pursue his dream. This young man is the son of Derrick and Lisa Kennedy, and yes, his name is Dylan. On a related note, you may remember Derrick Kennedy as the name of the Proconsul of the Triarii!
Two names fans of the James Acton Thrillers may recognize (besides the main man himself), are Chris Leroux and Leif Morrison, characters from Brass Monkey, but actually real names. Leif Morrison is a family friend who has written a terrific book called Trapped, that is based upon his real life abduction in Nigeria. It’s hard t
o find, but worth the hunt (try chapters.ca). Chris Leroux is a good friend who other than his penchant for Red Bull, is not the fictional character painted here. Phil Hopkins is another real name, whose biggest concern was how he died in the book. Hopefully you’re happy with how you were taken out, Phil!
In the first edition of this book, I forgot to mention (much to my chagrin!) two other real names. Ayla and Darius. They are cousins of mine, who are now much older than their characters (Ayla just graduated high school and Darius isn’t that far behind). I haven’t seen them in years, so I still picture them as they were when I last saw them, so they fit perfectly into this book.
Dylan Kane was a blast to write, and the overlap with the James Acton novels was a lot of fun. If you haven’t checked out Acton, give him a shot. If you have already, thanks for your support! I look forward to the next Dylan Kane adventure, as well as James Acton. And yes, Detective Shakespeare and Zander Varga fans, your sequels are coming too.
Thanks again to my wife, daughter, parents and friends, and to Brent Richards for some weapons advice. And a special thanks to my Dad who I ran ragged on this one!
And to you, thanks for reading!
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy has written over twenty international bestsellers including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers series, the first installment of which, The Protocol, has been on the bestsellers list since its release, including a three month run at number one. In addition to the other novels from this series including The Templar's Relic, a USA Today bestseller and #1 overall bestseller on Barnes & Noble, he writes the bestselling Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers, the Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers, and the Detective Shakespeare Mysteries. Robert lives with his wife and daughter and writes full-time.
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Rogue Operator (A Special Agent Dylan Kane Thriller, Book #1) Page 28