CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
September 28, 5:00 A.M.
Langely, Virginia
OWEN WASHBURN BACKED his gold Lexus out of its bay in his three-car garage. A beautiful fall day greeted him in his upper-class suburban neighborhood, tranquil and quiet in the early morning hours. Several other doors had risen and expensive cars rolled out, waiting politely while he passed by. Owen waved at his neighbors, thankful to be part of such a safe and comfortable community.
He didn’t miss field work in the least. He enjoyed coming home to his loving wife and two children each night, and leaving the killing to men like Cash Luker. He probably should feel guilty about what had transpired in Hong Kong all those years ago, denying Cash any hope of ever experiencing a top management career or a quiet life in the suburbs. The guilt ate at him every now and again, but Cash was such a thorn in his side that the tiny tugs at his conscience usually faded quickly. Cash’s legendary ability to track and dispatch the worst of the worst grated Owen’s nerves. Women loved him, and their colleagues worshiped him like some kind of action-adventure movie hero, so as far as Owen was concerned, the sooner Cash’s line of work caught up to him—and it always did—the better.
Owen made two rights and a left, freeing him of the impressive homes and streets he knew well, and sucking him into the heavy early morning commuter traffic. An odd sensation overcame him. He glanced in his review mirror, but saw no suspicious vehicles. He took the next exit, made several turns off his usual route, and still he couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed, despite seeing nothing to support the paranoia edging into his consciousness.
Even after all his years behind a desk, he trusted his instincts and they screamed out in warning. A sixth sense was a skill good agents developed that often saved their lives. He checked his mirrors again—nothing—yet a familiar scent filled his nostrils. He struggled to place the smell, and as his mind rifled through his past, a sense of dread edged into his consciousness. As he honed in on the perfume, the reality struck him like a punch to the gut, forcing all the air out of his lungs.
Jerking the steering wheel, he whipped his head around, sending the car dangerously close to the shoulder of the road. He corrected and straightened his direction, his knuckles white from the effort and his pulse racing.
“You’re losing your edge, Owen. Pull over before you kill us both.”
Owen did as instructed.
“You promised to never contact me again,” he said without looking back.
Owen wiped his sweating palms on his pants as he waited for a reply, forcing himself to level his breathing to disguise the panic attack welling up inside him.
“I need you to keep me in the loop, just like before, and maybe I’ll reward you the same way. You remember how you enjoyed your rewards,” she said, leaning forward until he could feel her breath on his neck.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The sinister laugh made Owen wince. After Pete described the woman who had tried to kill him in Bimini, Owen feared his time might be running out and his past would come back to haunt him.
“Let me remind you. While we made love in a hotel room in Hong Kong, you told me all about Cash’s sting operation to catch a double agent.”
“I didn’t know the traitor was you.”
“It doesn’t matter. Bottom line is, you leaked the information, costing six agents and a contact their lives. You never admitted your culpability to anyone. You accepted a big promotion out of the field, let Cash beat himself up all these years—not that he didn’t deserve it—and you’re living a happy little life out in the suburbs with your naïve wife.”
Owen had nightmares about the possibility of this day. Even though she had promised to disappear and never contact him again, it was foolish to trust a double agent, though he didn’t see a lot of other options. The idea of trying to find and kill her had entered his mind several times over the years since Hong Kong, but he was no match for this deadly woman. He was never a good field agent like Cash. He didn’t have the stomach for killing, nor did he possess the instincts and nerve needed to stay alive in that line of work.
“So, Owen, what will it be?”
“I won’t let you use me again. If Cash’s life was the only one at stake, maybe, but I can’t live with unnecessary casualties a second time.”
“You can, and you will, or a recording of our conversation that night in Hong Kong gets sent to your wife, the Director of the CIA, and maybe a few news stations. I might even walk your children to school while your wife is sobbing her pretty little eyes out over your deception. Do we understand each other?”
Owen nodded his head, but didn’t speak. He refused to hand down a death sentence to Diane, Pete, Ian, Marjorie, Diego, and Diane’s sister, who was currently serving as a civilian advisor. He was even starting to wonder if there might be something to the legend, and if so, the idea of helping her hammer nails in millions of coffins, including his and that of his family, forced bile to rise in his throat. But the consequence for refusing to cooperate with her included the loss of his job, his family, his reputation.
“What do you really want, Zara? This pointless venture has nothing to do with money. You get paid well for the services you provide to terrorists, unscrupulous governments, and those operating outside the law, not to mention all of the wealth your father skimmed from the Afghanistan government before we caught up to him.”
The cool barrel of her gun pressed tight to his temple. Owen froze, knowing it would take little goading to convince Zara to pull the trigger. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of her ending this deception, seeing no better way out of his predicament.
“Don’t you ever refer to my father as anything other than a martyr. He earned every dollar, and he required much money to rid his country of the likes of you and your pompous organization.”
“I just don’t understand what you hope to gain with this ridiculous treasure hunt. Murdering innocent unarmed women and children has never been your style. You used to enjoy taking out the strong and confident, while protecting the disadvantaged. What happened to you?”
“Innocence in this world has gone extinct. Besides, I’m bored, and I love a good adventure. If my colleague is wrong about the crystal’s power, I’m sure the relics can be sold for a fortune. There are plenty of people with more money than sense. I’d much rather become the most powerful woman in the world, but either way, I’m having fun in the process. The added bonus of taking revenge on Cash is gravy and long overdue.”
Owen turned around in his seat and looked at Zara. Her stunning almond-shaped green eyes twinkled with excitement. He had been captivated and intrigued with her as a young agent, as was every man she came into contact with, an asset that made her very effective at her job. She was fearless to the point of reckless, and a little crazy in a dangerous high-stakes adrenaline-pumping kind of way, but now as he looked at her he interpreted something different. She wasn’t a little crazy, she was insane, and she was no longer a little dangerous, she was deadly.
“I want the names of everyone on Cash’s team, their current locations, and any plans in the works, sent to me at this email address by noon today, your time, or copies of the tape will be distributed. If I get regular updates from you, I may consider giving you a taste of what you used to enjoy so much,” she said, kissing him on the cheek before slipping out of the vehicle and out of sight.