Colby Agency: Decoded Part 11

Alayna blinked as if confused. "Was it him?" She didn't dare say her brother's name out loud. It was forbidden.

"You have gone too far this time, Alayna." Camille moved her head slowly from side to side. "All these years I have trusted you. I have given you everything. And you allowed me to believe that you remained stead fast and loyal. But I now know that you were keeping much from me." She lifted her chin in resolution. "I've just been informed that you have betrayed me time and time again."

Alayna struggled to keep the panic from her voice. "I don't understand." Fear wrapped around and around her throat, tightening like a snake determined to render its prey helpless before devouring it. How had she discovered what Alayna had been up to? She had been so cautious.

"You have kept him informed of our security measures. You," Camille accused, her lips tight with fury, "warned him of this morning's action. Your actions were deliberate and without excuse."

Like there was ever a good enough excuse for the Dragon. The trembling started in Alayna's bones. She labored fiercely to keep it in check. If her mother saw the depth of her fear she would know her accusations were true. "I have no idea how to contact him," she argued, trying to sound offended. "How could you think such a thing?" She reached out to her mother. "You know I am loyal to you. I always have been."

Camille drew away, disdain in her eyes. "The two of you were my greatest successes. When the others failed, you thrived. First he betrayed me, and now you." Her fingers curled into fists. "My only hope now lies with the younger ones. You are dead to me, Alayna."

Her mother wheeled and walked out of the room.

Alayna couldn't move. She held herself together until Camille was gone and the door closed. The shuddering took over then, weakening her knees until she had to brace herself against the nearest table to remain standing.

Despite the reality of what this meant, a faint smile tugged at her trembling lips. Her brother had succeeded. His Maggie would be safe now. Alayna prayed her brother would take Maggie and disappear. He should never come back here. Never, ever.

But he would not run from the danger. Not this time. The end was near. For them all, Alayna feared.

The doors opened. Two guards stormed into the room, coming toe to toe with her.

"You are to come with us."

Alayna stared at the man who had spoken. Eli Kennemore, Camille's chief of security, had not said her name. Defeat settled on her shoulders. In the face of that foreboding weight, she affirmed her ground, shoulders back, chin lifted in defiance. She would die with dignity.

"How dare you address me in such a way." She noted the glint of uncertainty in his eyes and garnered some satisfaction from that small victory.

"I have my orders," Eli maintained. "You must come with us."

Alayna snubbed her own rising uncertainty. With all that she knew, a part of her still needed confirmation. "Say my name."

The man she had known since she was a child stared at her now, regret written plainly on his face. "It is forbidden."

And so it was as her mother said. Alayna was dead.

She pushed between the two men and exited the room. Her heart pounded, sending the blood roaring through her brain.

Resignation filled her, strangely heralding a sense of welcome relief. Her brother had suffered enough. If her life was the cost of his freedom, Alayna was happy to pay the price.

CAMILLE PACED HER ROOM. How could Alayna do this to her? She paused to stare at the monitors that kept her abreast of ongoing operations and world events. Everything was right on schedule. She was a master. Whatever operations she undertook were always a success. And no one had ever seen her coming or going. Camille had learned a long time ago that many layers were necessary to survive in this business. Every aspect of her operation was layered in such a way that years of research would be required to narrow down a specific detail. By that time she would have changed all of it.

That was the other important factor. Change.

But she had not been able to protect against the human emotion element.

How could her own progeny betray her? The first two were nothing more than mistakes. With him she had miscalculated certain variables. His biological father had been burdened with that same extreme sense of self-righteousness. Until that genetic defect had surfaced, Tripp Marek-even thinking his name sickened her-had been the perfect operative. Unstoppable.

But he had turned. The possibility that he had inherited that defective gene from his aunt infuriated Camille. Lavena had been a fool. Camille had offered to take care of the stupid old woman after her husband died fifteen years ago. She had been too full of that holier-than-thou rubbish, as well. She would starve, she'd claimed, before she would take a dime from Camille.

All these years Camille had tolerated her insolence. She had shown far too much mercy merely because Lavena had taken care of her as a child after the loss of their parents. Lavena had defied her on every front. Crossed her at every opportunity.

No more. She had gotten what she deserved just as her no-good grandson had.

Camille felt no regret at having ordered her older sister's death. She showed allegiance to no one but herself. Cared for no one...except Alayna.

Now she was gone, too.

No. Not now. Alayna had been betraying her for many years. Slipping information to her brother to protect him. Her biological father had been a cold-blooded a.s.sa.s.sin. She should not have inherited such weaknesses. Clearly, her brother's behavior had influenced her.

He would pay for his betrayal. Rage detonated inside Camille. He would pay even more dearly for taking Alayna from her. The Code was broken, the prototype a failure. But there were more coming, almost ready. Six expertly trained to begin a new program. Near-perfect a.s.sa.s.sins and relentless infiltrators. Nothing would stop her this time. She had learned a hard lesson with the first group. That group had been four in number, all born of her body. Not one had inherited her unmatched abilities.

Being biologically involved had been a mistake, putting her at a disadvantage in terms of recognizing a weakness before the defect grew out of control. The surrogates for this new Code had been disposed of immediately after birth, breaking that infernal biological bond before it could become an obstacle.

Camille lingered a moment, staring out the window at the fertile landscape she prized so highly. The land was the one thing in this life she could trust. It remained steadfast.

Unlike him.

For his betrayal, the punishment had to fit the crime. She wanted her last remaining son to writhe in agony and gnash his teeth.

Physical pain would not be sufficient. She had trained him too well.

Camille smiled. The answer was utterly simple.

First, she would slowly torture this redhead he seemed to need to protect. How dare he show such weakness by allowing a woman so close. For her part in his fall, she would die first. Death would come to this pathetic creature in tiny increments. But the coup de grce would be even more shattering.

Lucas Camp and his beloved wife had revealed Alayna. Had they not interfered, perhaps Alayna would not have taken this final step of betrayal. Like Maggie James, Lucas would die, equally slowly. Starting with his one good leg perchance. Camille laughed. Oh, yes, she would have the esteemed Lucas Camp dismantled one limb at a time, then one organ at a time. Until the last drop of his self-righteous blood had leaked from his cold, lifeless body.

Maybe she would video the entire procedure and send it to his lovely widow.

Perfect.

Camille would lose much this day, but the final, lethal blow would be hers. Perhaps this would be her greatest achievement yet.

Chapter Thirteen.

Colby Agency, Chicago, 8:00 a.m.

"The jet is ready."

Victoria turned from her treasured window. Whenever her world was a little shaky she could count on the view of the city she loved to steady her.

"Excellent," she said to her husband. She needed every ounce of strength she possessed right now. "I'm ready."

Lucas did not want her to go. But how could she not? Every instinct she possessed warned that this was somehow as much about Lucas as it was about Slade Keaton.

"I wish you'd change your mind."

The worry etched in Lucas's face tugged at her heartstrings. He was exhausted. They had both been up all night. Ian Michaels had confirmed that Keaton and Maggie had left the country. The pilot who'd returned to Chicago last evening had happily given all the details as soon as Simon Ruhl had called in his friend from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Jim had left for Mexico City immediately upon hearing the news. The agency's jet had returned only a few hours ago.

After a much-needed rest and necessary preparations, the agency's pilot was prepared to return to Mexico City with Victoria, Lucas and Ian. Simon would stay behind and coordinate activities here. Thomas Casey, Lucas's dear friend from the CIA, continued to liaise with Lucas as well as with Interpol.

The Dragon was wanted in several countries. If she was found, treason charges would be the least of her worries. Victoria suspected that whatever punishment she received would not be nearly severe enough.

Lucas joined Victoria at the window, and he cupped her face in his hands. "At least four people are dead already. I don't want you any closer to the fire than you already are. I could not bear it if you were hurt any more so than you already have been."

Two deceased a.s.sa.s.sins had been discovered at the motel near the major interstate between Chicago and St. Louis. A truck driver's conscience had gotten the better of him hours after the incident and he'd called the police. Chicago P.D. had informed Jim of what they knew. After sitting in on the interview with the pilot who had taken Maggie and Keaton out of the country, Jim had headed for Mexico. From the airfield outside Mexico City he had traced Keaton's movements to a borough called Coyoacn. Two more victims had been discovered. The collateral damage was piling up. Victoria and her agency had to do something. Maggie was an innocent in all this. Victoria speculated that on some level Keaton was, as well.

Lucas did not agree. But they both concurred that action had to be taken.

Victoria offered her husband a smile. "Whatever happens, Lucas, I will be at your side."

He sighed, the sound weary and filled with worry. "You are far too courageous for your own good."

Victoria pressed a kiss to his lips. "I belong at your side, for better or worse." She draped her arms around his waist and pulled him close. "Besides, we both owe it to Maggie to do all we can. Her family and friends are worried sick. We have to bring her safely home." Victoria had made that promise to Maggie's older sister, and she would not break that vow. "Don't ask me to ignore what I feel. This is something I must do, Lucas. It's far too important to all of us."

"This may not turn out the way we hope." Lucas had warned her repeatedly that this evil Dragon was by far the deadliest enemy either of them had faced thus far. "She won't be easy to defeat. Not even with all our resources."

"We won't be defeated." Victoria refused to consider that option. Good would prevail over this heinous woman. To believe otherwise was too unthinkable.

"If there's no dissuading you..." Lucas relented. His arms went around her and held her close. "But I want you in the background."

Victoria pressed her cheek to his chest. She loved listening to the beat of his heart. They had talked about his brief relationship with this woman who called herself the Dragon. He had been drawn to her because she reminded him so much of Victoria. At the time, Victoria had been married to James. Lucas had been in love with her even then, but Victoria hadn't known. Maybe she'd sensed he had deep feelings for her, but she had been so in love with her first husband and the father of her only child that she had dismissed the idea.

That Lucas had loved her for all those years, had waited selflessly, made her love him all the more.

Victoria lifted her gaze to meet his. "We have to try to protect Keaton, as well. You must see that."

Her husband's expression darkened. "He brought this to us. Put you in danger at least twice-"

"We can't prove that he was responsible for any of those events. You know that." Victoria was convinced that Keaton had simply been watching so closely that he'd picked up on trouble before anyone else. Watching her and Lucas had been his singular focus. "Until we understand what brought him here and how that plays into what's happening now, we have an obligation to help him."

"He has put you in danger, Victoria." Lucas spoke sternly. "And he may cost Maggie her life. You can't view this any other way. He is dangerous to anyone around him simply by virtue of his connection to the Dragon. That is what we do know."

"Lucas." Victoria had broached this subject already, but the escalating events had prevented her from pursuing the idea. "You have to seriously consider that Slade Keaton may be your son." Lucas had no children of his own, unless Slade Keaton proved to be his biological child. But her husband had loved Victoria's son just as much as if he'd been his own. He loved their grandchildren. Lucas was not a man who could do otherwise.

He looked away a moment, the concept clearly too painful to bear. "Why would she have kept a secret like that from me? Wouldn't she have wanted to use that information to her advantage? There were numerous opportunities when I was involved in high-level operations with the capacity for worldwide ramifications. We are talking about a woman deeply entrenched in the world of intelligence."

He had a valid point. Victoria considered that view for a moment. Then she understood the motive, and conviction flooded her on the heels of the epiphany.

A rap on the door of her office drew their attention there. Ian waited in the open doorway. "We're ready to depart."

"On our way," Lucas a.s.sured him.

Victoria surveyed her office one last time as she gathered her purse and scarf. She glanced out the window and said a quick prayer that they would all make it back here safely.

Lucas helped her into her jacket and escorted her to the elevators. As they waited for one to arrive, Victoria needed to finish what she'd had to say before Ian's arrival.

"Lucas." He turned to her. "I think you're right about her using Keaton to her advantage. I think she has likely done that his entire life." She searched her husband's eyes. "But I think there's something else she has considered more advantageous and that's why you never knew. She had an ace up her sleeve if she ever needed one. The precise opportunity just hadn't presented itself."

Lucas slowly nodded. "I've considered that possibility myself. Thomas is looking into what she's been up to. But uncovering her secrets won't be easy. She's a master at concealment."

A soft chime announced the elevator's arrival. Victoria took her husband's hand and squeezed it. "I think we're about to find out what she's been up to."

Chapter Fourteen.

8:48 a.m.

Slade had driven around for more than an hour before choosing this primitive village. Maggie couldn't even p.r.o.nounce the name, much less spell it. He'd rented an abandoned shack on the outskirts of the village from an old man who claimed to own it. There was no electricity or plumbing. A ragged bed leaned in one corner of the single room, while a scarred, wobbly table surrounded by two worn chairs huddled in the center. The cracks in the floorboards were wide enough for every manner of insect and rodent to feel welcome. Two windows were nothing more than square holes in the battered walls. Cobwebs lined most corners while dust coated every flat surface.

After what she'd been through, luxury wasn't high on her priority list. She could live with candles and bottled water.

What she couldn't live with was Slade's insistence on getting himself killed. He still intended to go after the Dragon while leaving Maggie here, alone, in this remote village. Like last time, he'd gathered supplies from a local general store of sorts. She sensed the urgency in his every move.

She desperately wanted to call for help. Did they even have telephone service here? Slade kept his cell phone in his vest pocket. Her chances of getting her hands on it were about negative ten.

He refused to listen to reason! Couldn't he see that they needed help?

"Can I have a look at your arm now?" The bleeding had stopped, but he hadn't taken the time to allow her to clean the wound or bandage it.

He moved from the window and sat down in one of the chairs. "Sure."

Maggie had no idea what had happened between the time he left her at the flat and when he'd ambushed her kidnappers, but he seemed more remote than usual. She picked through the bags of supplies she'd gotten at the store. No need for the feminine-hygiene pads now since the bleeding had stopped. She'd had the fleeting idea since some guy patronizing her coffee shop who'd gotten a terrible nosebleed had used one of his girlfriend's tampons to staunch the flow. The peroxide, ointment and bandages she could use. And the bandannas. Who knew how clean they were. She'd chosen a pale blue, the lightest color available, in hopes that the residual dye in the fabric would be minimal.

"Do you want to take off your shirt?" The sleeves were long and there was the vest over the shirt. She bit her lower lip as she considered having the opportunity to get her hands on that cell phone tucked in one those vest pockets. Service might be nonexistent here, but she would sure like the chance to try.

He stood, peeled off the black vest with all its pock ets and gear, then he tugged the skintight shirt over his head. He grimaced as the sleeve rolled off his injured arm. Maggie winced on his behalf. That had to hurt.

As soon as he was seated again, she inspected the wound. An ugly tear, shallow enough not to have hit bone. She didn't know about muscle damage. What they really needed was a doctor.

"You might need st.i.tches." She frowned at the b.l.o.o.d.y, angry gash.

"Clean it up and bandage it with whatever you have." He glanced up at her. "Or I can do it."

She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. "I'll do it. But if you get an infection, don't blame me."

He said nothing. She wasn't thick skulled. She realized that the injury was the least of his worries just now. A wave of weakness softened her knees. What in the world were they going to do?