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Authors: Connie Suttle

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Rafe walked beside me, his face set and so silent I barely
heard his footsteps. Yes, I was seeing the spy who'd worked for the Soviet
Union for so many years, and even beyond the days after the cold war ended.

They'd coerced him. I knew it; I'd merely waited for him to
volunteer that information. After the next few minutes, that opportunity might
never come. Reaching out, I gripped his fingers with mine and squeezed.
I
love you
, I sent to him. He lowered his chin in acknowledgment.

* * *

Notes—Colonel Hunter

A war raged within me. I wanted to grip the throats of the
ones forcing us to give up Corinne and Rafe, so I could squeeze the life from
them. I would enjoy watching the light leave their eyes as they died. This is
how anyone might feel when they are faced with such helpless feelings—when
someone they care for is in danger.

Rafe would go down fighting—I had no doubt of that.

Poor Corinne didn't stand a chance. She'd see exactly what
they were, and if they didn't kill her outright, would attempt to force her to
do unspeakable things.

A heavy door loomed ahead of us, with a keypad glowing softly
at its center. On the other side of that door lay disaster. I glanced at
Corinne. She was pale. Shaking already. I offered a silent prayer to anyone
listening as the President reached for the keypad and entered her private code.

* * *

Corinne

When the door swung open, we saw nothing except a narrow,
concrete entrance sloping upward, and beyond that, ornamental shrubs and trees,
hiding the entrance. In the distance I could hear sounds of traffic—people
going here and there on their daily journeys, unsuspecting that the fate of the
world might hang upon the next few minutes.

"What time is it?" Madam President asked.

"We have two minutes," Chief of Staff Hal Prentice
replied. "We're not late." He stood next to the President, blocking
her from any attack that might come from the greenery above as he spoke.

"Where are they?" Madam President betrayed her
nervousness by rubbing her arms.

Rafe reached out and pulled me against him. I knew his shield
was up, but Madam President was too far away to include in his protection. I
wondered in a distracted fashion if she realized that. Auggie, on the other
hand, was close enough to be included in Rafe's protective bubble.

My breath caught when the Chief of Staff called time and the
ones who'd come for us revealed themselves.

Chapter 18
 

Corinne

They detached themselves from concrete walls, their clothing
blending so well with the surface they'd seemed a part of it. That wasn't the
most frightening thing, however.

All eight of them looked exactly like Becker
.

Not only had Cutter's cronies developed a way to kill
thousands with Becker's blood, they'd learned to create clones, just as the
ones who'd sent assassins after the rest of us had. How they'd managed to
replicate so many so quickly was a mystery. Each clone held a weapon as they
took steps in our direction.

"Becker, that's close enough," Auggie commanded.

"That name has no meaning to us," one of the clones
replied. "We are here to collect those two." He nodded in Rafe's and
my direction. I worked to keep my breathing even—they had orders to keep me
alive and kill Rafe, once they got us away from there.

"How many of you are there?" Madam President's voice
quavered. Hal Prentice, still standing between her and the approaching clones,
gripped her elbow to steady her.

"That is not our information to provide. Command them to
come with us quietly, or we will kill all present."

"That wasn't part of the deal," she snapped.

"It will become part of the deal if they are not given to
us willingly."

"Come, cabbage," Rafe urged softly, pulling me with
him toward the waiting clones. I had no idea how they intended to get us out of
there. It didn't really matter; Rafe would be dead and I'd be a prisoner if
they had their way.

Ask them if he's watching—the one who sent them
, I
mentally instructed Madam President. I worried about the consequences if I
refused to cooperate.

Rafe's life mattered most to me at that moment.

"Is he watching? I want to know," Madam President's
voice wobbled again.

"You are so shortsighted," the spokesman replied.

And you are so dead
, I sent directly to him. He dropped
immediately, as did the seven others who flanked him.

Madam President screamed. Yes, I knew someone else was
there—someone who hadn't yet revealed himself.

Or, in this case,
herself
.

* * *

Ilya

I went cold. Eight clones died before my eyes, in less than three
seconds. All eight. I glanced at Corinne. Her nose was bleeding.

Words ran through my mind. Corinne's words, as she sat behind
a computer, studying photographs.

Dante Dolsen, dead.

Francis Pike, dead.

Karl Graham, dead.

 Langston Coffman, dead
.

She'd killed them while she stared at their photographs. While
she was in the nation's capital and they were in Canada.

My blood went from cold to frozen. Eight clones lay dead in
front of us when the hidden one revealed herself.

Was she human?

Not now
.

I blinked, too, at the one she held hostage, a gun pointed at
the woman's temple.

Colonel Hunter's wife, Laci.

* * *

Notes—Colonel Hunter

She had arms and legs, like a human. Very little past that
resembled any human I'd ever seen. Covered in greenish-brown scales, she appeared
more lizard-like than human. She was also dressed in camouflage, to keep us
from seeing her until she chose to reveal herself.

She pointed a fucking gun at Laci's head.

I had no idea how Becker's clones had suddenly dropped dead,
but suspicions were forming in my mind. Those would have to wait until later.
Yes, Laci had filed for divorce. I still loved her, and it broke my heart to
see her threatened like this. Obviously, the enemy had covered all his bases.

Corinne and Rafe had stopped walking the moment Laci and her
captor appeared. I could tell that the deaths of Becker's clones disturbed the
lizard woman.
Greatly
.

I didn't have time to dissect that fact. I had to figure out
how to get Laci away from her.

"Let her go," Corinne said. "Or you'll end up
like the Beckers."

"I will kill her if you do not come with me," lizard
woman replied. I could see sharp teeth as she spoke—teeth made for killing, not
chewing.

Did she swallow her prey whole or in chunks? I fought down
nausea.

* * *

Corinne

This was my last hand. The ace I'd held until the end, so the
others wouldn't be so afraid of me they'd attempt to kill me or run away.

There hadn't been any choice. Lizard lady probably knew her
minutes were numbered, but she'd been given strict orders to haul Rafe and me
away. The thing that terrified me the most? There were others just like her.
And I mean
just
like her. In every way, down to the smallest scales on
her little pinky.

Her boss, though, whoever he was, wasn't going to get what he
wanted. Not today. With a narrowing of my eyes, I watched her fall. All of it
seemed to happen in slow motion. Lizard woman crumpled. Laci dropped to her
knees, sobbing. Auggie ran toward her. I looked past him at Madam President,
who was forcefully tossed to the ground by her Chief of Staff, Hal Prentice. Hal
then pulled a gun and aimed it at Auggie.

Seeing his face—focusing on it for the first time, told me so
many things. He'd been contacted months ago.
He
was behind the
helicopter bombing and the passing of Rafe's information to the Russians.
He
was kept in the loop as much as possible by the President herself.

He
was a clone.

Like Mary Evans, this version worked for the enemy. He'd never
wanted Auggie in charge of the Program, because Auggie was a straight shooter.
He'd advised the President to name Cutter after General Edwards' death. He'd
been instructed to kill Colonel August Hunter now, after Rafe and I had been
safely squirreled away. Even with the failure of the first part of the plan, he
was still following orders.

Could I kill him with my talent?

I tried. Something prevented it.

I screamed and ran toward Auggie and his wife. Rafe called my
name dimly behind me. I shoved Auggie aside.

The gun went off.

I was outside Rafe's protection.

The bullet hit me in the chest.

* * *

Ilya

I wanted to kill him a second time. He'd emptied his weapon at
me while I stalked toward him. He should have known better than to attempt to
run. Hal Prentice lay at my feet, his neck broken, glassy eyes staring at me in
surprise.

"Get back," Leo Shaw shouted behind me. I turned
swiftly.

What was he doing?

Colonel Hunter was shoved away from Corinne's body. Dr. Shaw
pulled a syringe from a pocket and plunged it into Corinne's neck. I screamed
Corinne's name; I know I did.

Colonel Hunter and the President of the United States did their
best to hold me back as I struggled to get to Corinne.

* * *

Notes—Colonel Hunter

"August, I'm so sorry."

Laci's apology salved part of my guilt.

Just not all of it.

Shaw and Richard Farrell were with Corinne's body. Six hours
had passed since the incident, and there was no news.

Either Cori was dead, or the drug was taking hold.

We'd had to sedate Rafe. He wanted to kill all of us, I think.

"She's like a daughter," I mumbled, working to keep
the tears from my eyes.

"I was jealous. Of her. Of your job," Laci wept.
"I was so stupid."

"Laci, don't cry. You make me want to," I said,
sitting beside her and wrapping my arms around her shoulders.

Madam President's phone had remained curiously silent. That
concerned me. I pondered that while I held my wife and wiped away her tears.

Did Corinne's talent frighten the enemy so much he'd backed
off?

Now I knew why she wanted to see him so badly. To kill him. To
make him pay for all those he'd killed just to get this painting or that bauble
for somebody else.

I knew a certain Asian dictator who'd better watch his back if
Corinne happened to survive. Actually, I knew a lot of people who ought to
watch their backs.

* * *

"I have information, connecting Hal with Hugh
Lawrence." The FBI Director handed a flash drive and a file to the
President. "The information is sketchy—what we could put together in the
last few hours since you requested it."

"But why?" Madam President had worked hard to keep
tearstains from showing. It wouldn't do to show that weakness to anyone.

"Did Hal push Cutter for the Secretary of Defense
position?"

"Yes." The President lowered her eyes. "Right
after General Edwards was murdered."

"We have information on plenty of calls between Lawrence
and your Chief of Staff, two months before Lawrence died. There are odd
transfers of funds, too, that have been coming to Prentice's bank accounts since
then."

"He was connected to this whole mess?" The
President's voice trembled.

"It looks that way. We'll know more in the next few
days."

"No wonder he was never in a meeting with Corinne,"
the President muttered.

"What's that?" the Director asked.

"Nothing. Thank you for this—I'll take a look
immediately. Bring the other information when you have it."

"I will."

"One more thing, Director."

"Yes?"

"I want the body turned over to a special team for an
autopsy."

"I'll make arrangements."

* * *

Ilya

Days have passed. The President, Colonel Hunter and many
others have turned their attention to the growing unrest in the Middle East.
The U.S. government is taking the blame for the deaths in Afghanistan, when
they had little to do with it.

I knew now that the Civilian Security Services rogues who did
the killing were already dead when their convoy was bombed—satellite images and
air strike pilots confirm that the vehicles weren't moving when the missiles
were launched. Many of them looked to have been wrecked where they were—Corinne
had killed them while they were en route to their next target.

Yes, it was frightening, and I understood why she held that
information back until there was no other choice. I sat beside her bed—as often
as Dr. Shaw would allow it.

She had no idea that we trusted her—with our lives. I reached
out to push a tendril of hair behind an ear. A moan, as soft as a whisper,
escaped her lips.

* * *

Corinne

You float in a bubble
.

At least I did, poised between death and another life. If I
chose the latter, would they run from me, knowing I could kill them with a
thought?

All I had to do was see them—or their photograph—once, and I
could do it.

You have no concept of time
.

Whether it had been days or weeks while I struggled to make up
my mind, I had no idea.

Should I stay?

Faced with the prospect of no friends and few allies, what
incentive did I have?

That's when I felt the mental brush against my soul, the words
gentle. Careful.

Shhh. Ilya's here, my darling. Ilya's here
.

It was all I needed to know.

 

The End

 

About the author:

Connie Suttle lives in
Oklahoma with her patient, long-suffering husband and three cats. For
information on forthcoming titles, please visit Connie's website at
www.subtledemon.com, her blog at subtledemon.blogspot.com or find her on
Facebook—Connie Suttle Author. She is also on twitter: @subtledemon.

 

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