Prodigal (32 page)

Then slowly, inexplicably, they began to applaud.

The noise soon reached a surreal pitch. Lea didn’t recognize a single face among them—even though these people left no doubt that they knew all about her. It felt as if she had been living behind one-way glass, while these strangers watched her every move. Their adulation rushed at her, leaving her shaken and defenseless.

Until Trevor Bostic joined in, placing himself at Lea’s side.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced with unbridled flair, “may I present to you the woman who single-handedly delivered us a victory against our
Inru
enemies. Please, show your appreciation for Major Lea Prism—our very own
extraordinaire officier
!”

All the guests rallied at the mention of her name, punctuating their applause with cheers and whistles—but it was Bostic who took the bows, thanking them profusely. He allowed the shameless display to go on long past the point of obscenity, forcing Lea to address the situation. She acknowledged the party with a gracious wave, which seemed to sate their appetite for her attentions. Gradually, they simmered back down into their private exchanges, reduced to stealing glances whenever the mood struck.

“So,” Bostic began, with a formal turn toward Lea.

“So,” Lea tossed back at him.

“You’ll have to forgive the theatrics,” he went on, meticulously adjusting the white French cuffs that protruded from the sleeves of his tuxedo jacket. “I thought you might not accept my invitation if you knew my true intentions.”

“Which are?”

Bostic smiled broadly—a rehearsed grin, the kind he might use to grease his masters back in Vienna. “To show you how much I value your services,” he said. “It isn’t just anyone who can bring down the
Inru
in one stroke.”

“That’s a little premature.”

“Not according to my sources.”

Lea’s eyes narrowed. She expected more to follow, but Bostic only teased her with silence. Already he had her at a disadvantage, immersing her so deep in luxury that she couldn’t see straight. Now Bostic sprang
this
on her—offering Lea hope that there might be a way out.

That’s exactly what he wants you to believe.

She leaned in close to him.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“Of course.”

“Privately.”

“My study,” Bostic offered, pointing the way.

Lea took the lead, proceeding in haste while Bostic mingled. When he finally arrived at the carved wooden doors, he regarded her with no small measure of satisfaction. All those times she had avoided Bostic, now here she was begging to get him alone. Whatever control Lea might have asserted was long gone, and Bostic knew it.

He slipped a key into the door, which unlocked with a series of clicks.

And locked it again after they went inside.

“May I offer you a drink?” Bostic asked, walking over to the liquor cabinet at the back of the study. The room was dim, smothered in dark wood on all sides, bathed in a soft, intimate glow from the banker’s lamp on his desk. Lea had her back to him, standing at a window that overlooked Central Park, following the twisted paths illuminated by streetlamps and carriage lights.

“Bourbon,” she said, turning around. “If you have it.”

A wry look crossed his face, like this was some elaborate dance between them. He then reached for a bottle of Rip van Winkle, presenting it for her approval.

“Pappy okay?”

Lea shrugged. “Knock yourself out.”

Bostic poured a tumbler for each one of them, then came over to the window. He handed Lea her drink, taking a small, measured sip from his. “The dress looks good on you. Apologies for the drama, but the kind of people I invited here have certain expectations. I had to make sure you were presentable.”

Lea casually drained her bourbon in a single gulp.

“Thanks,” she said, handing the empty tumbler back to him.

Lea then pulled away, sauntering across the study. She could feel Bostic’s eyes against her back, scoping out her intentions.

“Typical Lea,” he observed. “Always in the fast lane.”

“Spare me the analysis, Bostic. You practically invented the concept.”

“Guilty as charged,” he confessed, taking another drink. “At any rate, that only applies to business. When it comes to everything else, I prefer to take my time.”

She could have laughed at the clumsiness of his overture, but kept her cool.

“I’ll have to try that,” Lea said, “when I’m not running for my life.”

“Maybe I can help you with that.”

Lea engineered a subtle retreat, pretending to browse the many treasures he kept under sealed glass. She took refuge behind one of them, an ancient manuscript copy of Sun Tzu—typical showboating for a man who took his gangster oaths a little too seriously.

“That would be a neat trick,” she said.

Bostic smiled again, draining the last of his bourbon. He set the glasses down on his desk, then walked across the room to join Lea. He circled around the other side of the glass case, watching her as she watched him. “You ever study
The Art of War
?”

“Just enough to be dangerous.”

He looked down at the book and quoted from the open page: “‘Manipulate the enemy to weaken, then exploit that weakness.’”

She leaned in toward him. “So now I’m the enemy?”

“Only as long as you want to be.”

“Maybe I like things that way.”

“If that were true,” Bostic countered, “you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Bostic was far more perceptive than Lea would have guessed. Playing him, it seemed, was out of the question. He was here to deal.

“What have you got in mind?”

“Just what I said,” Bostic explained. “A way out of this war. The Assembly is ready to declare victory—and make
you
their hero.”

“There’s a little problem with that, Bostic.”

He tilted his head curiously.

“It’s all bullshit.”

He laughed.

“You’re one of a kind, you know that?” Bostic said, crossing back around and moving in behind her. Bending down, he whispered into her ear: “But you have a lot to learn about corporate politics.”

Lea tossed a heated glance over her shoulder. Feigning innocence, Bostic withdrew to his desk. There, he sank into a leather chair and waited for her to respond.

“You can’t just
say
the war is over,” Lea said. “That’s insane.”

“The Assembly doesn’t think so. In fact, they’ve been following your progress closely ever since you started with us—and they’re quite impressed with your work. In a few short months, you’ve accomplished more than Special Services has in the last five
years.
Because of you, we have the
Inru
on their knees.”

“All the more reason to keep fighting until it’s finished.”

“It
is
finished,” Bostic stated flatly. “Oh, there may be a few isolated pockets of resistance—but the
Inru
have no effective leadership and next to no financing. Their ability to mount serious attacks on the Collective is nonexistent. And now, after the operation in Ukraine, their hammerjack ranks appear to be decimated.”

His words provoked a stab of dread. Lea hadn’t briefed CSS about her findings yet. As far as she knew, Novak and Pallas were the only other people who had that information.

“Where do you get that from?”

“My sources independently confirmed the identities of the bodies you found.”

Lea wasn’t about to let that one go.

“How?”

“It wasn’t so difficult,” he mentioned offhandedly, reading her intent. “For some time, we’ve been watching a steep decline in hammerjack activity across the Axis. When enough of the usual suspects went missing, I started wondering why. We had to run a few probability scenarios, but the pieces eventually fell into place.” Bostic seemed disappointed at her outburst. “You’re not the only spook I have, Lea.”

“You could have told me before the mission.”

“It was unverified intel.”

“It could have saved
lives,
Bostic.”

“Maybe,” he conceded, showing a glimmer of remorse. “But that’s the price we pay for keeping secrets from each other, isn’t it?”

Bostic studied her reaction closely, obviously hoping to shake something loose. He knew Lea was holding back—but that also meant he didn’t know everything.

“You have to
earn
that kind of trust,” she said.

He nodded in slow agreement.

“Starting now?”

Lea gave no indication one way or the other. It was time for him to give.

“Very well,” Bostic said, putting it all on the table. “The Assembly agrees with my position that the
Inru
are dead in the water. They ran all the figures and concluded that it no longer makes sense to expend so many resources on a group that has been reduced to little more than a general nuisance.”

“That’s a hell of a way to look at the people who’ve sworn to bring them down.”

“The Assembly no longer considers that a possibility. Therefore, with my recommendation, they’ve decided to reassign the
Inru
matter to conventional security forces. Starting now, T-Branch will no longer have jurisdiction over those operations.”

It took all of Lea’s effort to remain still.

“You’re dissolving my team.”

“The team is already dissolved, Lea,” Bostic said, with a strategic measure of sympathy. “That last mission came at a heavy cost. I’m sorry you lost them—but at least you can know that their sacrifice counted for something.”

Thanks a lot, you bastard.

“You wanted the truth,” Bostic reminded her.

Lea stepped away and paced the room, trying to gather any thoughts that didn’t involve killing him. She still wasn’t sure what Bostic wanted—but if he was in the mood for truth, Lea was going to take advantage.

“What happens to my people?”

Bostic considered it.

“If they choose, support staff may continue at CSS in some other capacity. They’re still the best forensics unit in the business. Military personnel, of course, are subject to whatever new orders command has for them.”

Lea looked down at the floor. “Where does that leave
me
?”

“Full-time on the bionucleics project,” Bostic told her. “With your considerable talents focused there, the Assembly expects you to make remarkable strides toward finally stabilizing the unit.” After a moment, he added, “That
is
where you want to be—isn’t it?”

Lea stood far enough away, her face concealed in shadow, hoping to hide the panic that sparked behind her eyes.

“Yes,” she drew out. “But there is one other matter.”

Bostic folded his arms in anticipation.

“Avalon.”

His expression hardened.

“That battle is finished, Lea. Let it go.”

“I can’t. Not as long as she’s still out there.”

“Leave that to Special Services. Sooner or later, they’re bound to catch up with her.”

“Yeah,” Lea scoffed, “and we’ve all seen how that works out.”

“Unless I missed something, you haven’t done much better.”

Bostic’s remark had the intended effect.

“You see why I prefer lies,” he pointed out. “It’s much easier in our world.”

Lea couldn’t argue with him. “Then tell me one.”

“Deep down, I’m really a nice guy.”

“You really go for the throat, don’t you?”

“It’s not personal,” Bostic said. “It’s just business.”

She searched him for clues, but found him inscrutable. Bostic was leading her, but had some twisted need for Lea to go the rest of the way herself.

“That simple, huh?”

He shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

“And chasing these people is what
I
do,” Lea replied. “I know firsthand what Avalon is capable of, Bostic—and I can assure you, she will not stop until the Assembly is destroyed. For her, it
is
personal.”

“Sounds like you two have something in common.”

Lea walked over and sat on the side of his desk. She used everything—her gaze, her posture—to convey her seriousness.

“Avalon is dangerous. Even more now that she’s up against the wall.”

Bostic studied her closely.

“So are you,” he said.

“Then you know I won’t be worth a damn to you until I finish this.”

“It seems that way.”

“Then what’s it going to take?”

“That depends on what it’s worth to you.”

All Lea could do was threaten him.

“You’re taking a big chance with the
Inru,
” she said. “It’ll be your head on a spike if you’re wrong.”