18

The metal folding chair was hard against her back. Her breath puffed out in white clouds with every exhale. She might have been staring into those nightmarish eyes, so dark brown they looked black, but she had to think about anything and everything else.

Si, hermano.” He hung up the phone and those eyes narrowed into black slits.

“Who is he?”

El Cuervo said nothing.

“You just called him ‘brother.’ How do you know each other?”

He stood there as if she hadn’t spoken. She needed him to tell her about the blackmailer, otherwise she’d have nothing.

Megan gritted her teeth, then said, “You’re just going to kill me. Why not tell me who he is? What difference will it make?”

His lip twitched on one side. Great, so he enjoyed the thought of her being dead. Or was his pleasure in her own realization of it?

“You were supposed to kill me two years ago, right? Missed your chance.”

“You have proven useful to him since.”

She didn’t react to that. “And now my time’s up, right?”

“In death, you will also serve a purpose.”

“Because my dad did something that wronged him? So he’s taking it out on me, even though I was in elementary school at the time.” And that was the reason Will was dead—because a parent of his had been a part of it.

Megan couldn’t help wonder if Hank had put them together because he’d known even back then that their parents had been involved. Which meant he’d also had to have been under the blackmailer’s thumb even then.

She looked back over her left shoulder. Could Hank be the blackmailer?

No. There were indications he’d been taking orders, and El Cuervo had been talking to someone on the phone. It had sounded like they were equals, though he’d received instructions. And called the man “brother.”

Who was it?

Someone with computer skills. Someone with knowledge of redacted Top Secret missions. Someone old enough to have been affected by an event that took place decades ago—which narrowed it down, but not by a whole lot. He was at least her age, though likely older. And she also figured the blackmailer was connected. Like maybe he had a government job, or was military. Someone with the influence to be able to dig into Steve’s background and put the screws to him.

“I want my money,” Hank said.

She watched El Cuervo react. Cold. Calculating. His gaze flicked to land on Hank. She wanted to shiver. Sitting bound in the middle of four men—Hank, the Venezuelan, and two of his bodyguards—put her at a serious disadvantage.

One she remembered every second of every day and in all her nightmares as the worst, most fearful day of her life.

All she had to do was shut her eyes and she saw blood bloom across Will’s chest. Watched his chair topple backward, him in it. Tied there, just like she was now. Just like she had been back on that day.

Powerless.

Emotion threatened to overwhelm her. But she wasn’t going to break down, even if she wanted to just cry and be a girl surrounded by a bunch of thugs. They wanted her to do it. Wanted her to give up. To surrender to their strength.

And she wasn’t going to.

No way.

She recited all the Bible verses about strength that she remembered. Said them all, one by one, in her head. It didn’t matter what El Cuervo and Hank were talking about. How he’d betrayed her. How short the rest of her life was going to be. To die was gain, right?

She didn’t want to leave her mom, not like this. She didn’t like leaving with the blackmailer still free. Or not being able to see what might happen in her future with Adrian, void of a stressful situation.

Still, it wasn’t like dying would be a bad thing—for her. She’d quite like to see what eternal glory might look like. No more pain. No more fear. Sign her up for that.

There was plenty to want to stay alive for, but she also knew God’s plan might not be that she remained alive. He might want her life to be done here. It was His prerogative, and for the first time in her life, she was willing to surrender to Him. Because she trusted that God knew what was best—not what was easiest. And He would take care of the people she loved.

Megan prayed that the truth would be revealed, regardless of what happened to her. She prayed for everyone involved, all her friends. Her teammates. Her family. Adrian.

A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek.

Regret and peace sat inside her like two things on opposite ends of a scale. The peace was overwhelming, a gift given to her by God, outweighing the regret. But that didn’t mean regret wasn’t still part of the balance.

The first gunshot caused a flinch in her body that nearly lifted her from the chair. Her ears rang.

Another shot blasted.

Then a third. A fourth. She lost count as sounds melded together and her ears rang, overwhelmed with the noise.

Bodies dropped to the ground.

El Cuervo.

Hank had shot him.

She turned back to the man who’d been her mentor. He lay bleeding, the gun inches from his fingers. Gasping.

The Venezuelan and his two bodyguards were dead.

She rose from the chair and fell to her knees. Stumbled over to him, hands bound behind her back, to lean over his face. “Hank.” The word broke, and she sucked in a breath.

His body shuddered and he tried to speak.

“No. It’s okay.” She knew he couldn’t talk. “You did the right thing.” He’d killed her enemies. Ended the threat.

“So—rry.”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. “I know.”

Hank’s breathing stopped, and she watched the flicker of light in his eyes die out as his heart gave in to the trauma. Then he was gone.

More tears rolled down her cheeks. She tried to move, but her hands were bound tight. It took a minute, but she found Hank’s knife in his back pocket and cut herself free. Ouch. Blood welled on her wrist where she’d nicked the skin.

She moved to El Cuervo then and found his phone, which she used to dial Remy. She wanted to call Emergency services here, or Adrian.

“Mason Industries.”

“That’s a new one,” Megan said.

“Oh, it’s you. Thank goodness. I’m glad you called because I need to talk to you, and I only have a second. But first, are you okay?”

Megan looked at the carnage around her. “No. I’m not okay at all.”

“You want me to call the boys? They’re in India, but I can get them back here if you need help.”

“There’s no time,” Megan said.

“Agreed. He breached my system, Meg. I have to go dark, but I wanted to give you something before I do.”

“An airplane would be great.”

“Done,” Remy said. “You know the drill. But you won’t be able to contact me. I got too close, and I’m being burned.” She paused for a second, then said, “You’ll be on your own.”

Megan thought about all the people in her life. “No, I won’t.”

“I’m going to send everything I know to Special Agent Walker, including proof you have nothing to do with this.”

“What?”

“Proof—so they can’t keep blaming you for being in collusion with Zimmerman.”

Adrian walked right behind them as agents Peters and Bryant escorted Rear Admiral Frampton (retired) and Captain St. Germaine to the waiting SUV. They’d even called in the local tactical team from their office. Plenty of guns watching.

Looking for Zimmerman.

Other agents and local cops plus state police were all over the place. The convention center had been evacuated, and people were still filing out.

It was over. But they hadn’t found Zimmerman yet.

Adrian would be happy about it if he didn’t have that niggling feeling this would only cause Zimmerman to go to the ground. He had to remind himself that lives had been saved today—on more than one front. Zimmerman could go somewhere else. Hit a new target. But they’d prevented an attack on innocent lives today. They had the two Navy officers. That meant a good shot to figure out where those might be. Information was what they needed right now; all the details they could get about what had happened. Adrian would add a whole lot of prayer, so that hopefully they could figure out the blackmailer’s identity.

The SUV door shut. Bryant turned back and held out his hand. “We’ll get them secured and talk with them. I’ve got your number and your email, so I’ll keep you posted on what we learn.”

Adrian nodded. He’d done all he could. He’d arguably saved the day, getting the convention center and the two men secured.

But why did he feel that niggling…whatever it was …at the back of his mind? That it might not have been enough.

They still didn’t know where Zimmerman was.

Megan was still being implicated.

“Thank you,” he said anyway. “I appreciate it.”

He couldn’t discount the fact these two men might have been bought by the blackmailer, but he’d checked them out with their boss. The speed with which they’d called in the full force of the Denver FBI office had been impressive. These weren’t lone wolves acting under duress.

They drove off, and he turned back. Considered calling Megan’s mother again. Sylvia had been a lifeline during this, making calls to powerful people. He figured some of the FBI’s arrival here had been due to her. The agents had been clear they were supposed to look for Zimmerman, and not Megan. Her mother likely had FBI contacts from her days as an agent’s wife. But that was just speculation.

He pulled out Megan’s phone, but there were no notifications.

His own had been quiet, as well. The agents at his office back in DC had confirmed that Hank’s duty issued phone was turned off. Still no way to trace where he’d gone.

Where he’d taken Megan.

“Adrian!” A slender woman climbed out of a cab and raced toward him. It was like looking at Megan in thirty years. And the future was bright.

He met her halfway. “Mrs. Perkins?”

She nodded and made it all the way to stand in front of him. “Megan just called me. She’s on her way here right now, in a private plane.” The older woman held onto his biceps. “She’s all right.”

Relief swept through him. They’d talked more than once in the last few hours, and he figured it had slipped that he was worried about Megan. Maybe even that he cared about her.

He said, “That’s great.” Two words, so inadequate.

She grinned. “She sounded tired, but what’s important is that she’s all right.”

Of course Megan had called her mother first. It made the most sense. He was here and busy, and she probably didn’t want to bother him. Even if he wanted to be bothered. Especially by her.

Adrian blew out a breath. She was all right.

He’d made the right call. Thank You, Lord. Could this be the beginning of the end of this journey they’d all been on?

He said, “We’re still looking for Zimmerman. This isn’t over.”

She nodded. “But our girl is safe.”

Adrian wasn’t sure he’d go that far just yet. He needed to see if Megan wanted to have that title in his life. She might not feel the same way about him that he did about her. But he prayed he would get the chance to find out soon.

Adrian looked at the glass front doors of the convention center, then at the surrounding area. Plenty of places for Zimmerman to hide with his sonic weapon, even with the police sweeping the area.

“We should head to the airport and meet her.”

Adrian nodded before he looked at Megan’s mother. “I’ll let them know I’m leaving, but the SAC here doesn’t need me. His team will take up the hunt for Zimmerman here.”

Adrian was one man. It was the FBI as a whole that would bring him down. Right these wrongs.

Sylvia said, “You think he left?”

“When we gave the evacuation order, most likely. He probably saw us escort his two targets out of here, and now he’ll have to check in with the blackmailer on what to do next.”

She frowned. “Will he follow them and try to hurt them at the FBI office or in a safe house?”

Adrian said, “It’s possible, and the agents will be watching for that. But he needs the exact frequency of the material a building is made out of if he wants to bring it down. It’s not as easy as pointing and shooting.”

“Okay.” She nodded, but didn’t look much relieved.

“If we can get Megan to the FBI office as well, then we can get her to give a statement. And I can tell them about Hank. We can get all this figured out and squared away.”

“That would be good.”

He was still convinced the truth, utilized by the law, was the way this would be resolved. Remy could find anything, apparently, but only when applied to the justice system would the blackmailer’s plans be thwarted.

Adrian kept an eye on Megan’s mother while he checked with the SAC on scene. He didn’t need anything to happen to her on his watch. It was the guilt making him do it. Megan had gone off on her own. But he could have made sure she stayed safe, right? He could have caught up to her in time.

She was all right now—he hoped. But who knew what she’d gone through, or how she’d gotten out?

Adrian drove her mother toward the Denver airport, and into an alternative entrance. One for private parties and their private planes. Usually businesses the FBI would be interested in knowing about.

Megan’s mother gasped. “Look.”

A small plane was coming in to land. Much too fast.

Smoke poured out of the tail of the aircraft.

“Is that her plane?”

Adrian didn’t know. He couldn’t even speak to tell her mother that. His foot stuttered on the gas pedal, and the borrowed federal vehicle slowed. He couldn’t watch the plane Megan might be on, crash right in front of him.

This had to have something to do with Zimmerman.

Adrian twisted in his seat to look around.

He drove past the hangar. Down the runway a man stood out in the open, a bulky object on his shoulder like a rocket launcher. Zimmerman. He’d exposed himself, on orders from the blackmailer, to bring down Megan’s plane. All of it rolled through Adrian’s mind, one realization after the other.

Adrian hit the gas and drove straight toward the man, standing out in the open.

Megan’s mother gasped and grabbed the handle on the door.

“Hold on.” He honked his horn. If it didn’t get Zimmerman’s attention, maybe he could alert emergency services. Or at least someone in the airport watching out the window. Please God, let us be seen.

He couldn’t watch Megan die.

And while it wasn’t the same as her witnessing Will’s death, Adrian at least understood what losing his partner would be like. He knew he wouldn’t survive it nearly as well as Megan had.

She needed to live.

Zimmerman didn’t turn, despite the fact Adrian laid heavy on the horn. He just kept pointing the weapon at the airplane.

Adrian’s speed hit sixty miles an hour, as he barreled right toward Zimmerman.

At the last second, the man turned. He saw Adrian coming and dived out of the way. Adrian clipped him with the car. The rogue agent flew through the air and landed on the runway with a thud. Megan’s mother screamed. Adrian hit the brakes and turned the car around.

Behind them, the airplane’s engines screamed as it headed for the runway.

It was going to crash.