The Gemini Deception (38 page)

“Look.” Jack shifted her weight and cringed as pain shot up her leg. “I know I screwed up, but I’m good at what I do. You can’t judge me based on one failure.” She stuffed her hands in her jeans. “I need my own team to perform. Let me put one together next time, a few people I can count on. Not clowns like him.” She looked down at the lifeless body next to her. “The guy couldn’t even manage to keep the car keys in his pocket.”

“Why didn’t you pull the trigger, Jack?”

“I have anger-management issues,” she replied. “The contractor insulted and threatened me with her organization.”

“Since when do you care about contractors?”

“Since they almost killed me during a job.”

“Why is it you’re not concerned about me executing you instead?” TQ asked.

“I know—”

“Do you think I need you enough to overlook your failures, Jack?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“I know you want to keep me alive for as long as it takes to get over yourself, which could be never.”

“Myself?” TQ sounded intrigued. “How interesting. Do explain.”

“You didn’t come after me because I killed your brother. I doubt you care enough about anyone to seek revenge on their behalf.” She had to remind TQ why she’d wanted Jack in the first place; she had to put TQ’s anger back into perspective if she wanted to keep Cass alive. “I’m just here because you can’t cope with someone else deciding destiny or calling the shots. I put a glitch in your plans, in your perfectly choreographed life, when I killed your brother and rubbed it in your face. If anyone should have decided about his miserable life and reveled in the choice of his death, it should have been you.”

TQ clapped slowly. “Brava. Not bad for a lowlife assassin.”

“You’re not that complicated. Pretty transparent, actually.”

TQ laughed. “Am I, now?”

“Just another statistic, really.”

“How precious. Kitchen psychology.” She approached Jack.

“Probably a case of a messed-up childhood,” Jack replied. “Parents didn’t love you, think you were good enough. For some reason, gave more love or saw more potential in your paraplegic brother. Maybe they never wanted a daughter in the first place and treated you like an afterthought. But you proved them wrong. You got even by becoming powerful and rich. You showed them who really calls the shots when it comes to rejection and pain—”

“Shut up.” TQ shouted, completely out of character.

“How am I doing so far?”

“I said, shut up,” TQ repeated, quietly this time.

“The truth’s a remorseless bitch, isn’t she?”

“Undoubtedly.” TQ traced the scar on Jack’s cheek with her index finger. “Yet nothing, compared to me.” She went to the door but turned back, her hand on the knob. “I can end your life with the wave of my hand.”

“But you won’t.”

TQ smiled. “My game, my terms, remember? You get to live for as long as I deem necessary. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take care of your failure.”

She addressed the short goon standing there and his friend Hulk on the opposite corner. “You two…I want you to demonstrate just how remorseless I am, until I say otherwise.”

Burke, Virginia

Shield drove slowly past the safe house. The cracker-box home was dark, and the overgrown yard, if it could even be called a yard, told her it hadn’t been used in a while.

The isolated safe house was near the northern edge of Lake Accotink Park, an enormous wooded area big enough to get lost in. She skirted the edge of the park for nearly three miles before she began looking seriously for a good dump site.

She’d hoped to hide the van among the trees, but every possible avenue she explored had problems or carried too much risk of immediate discovery. She spotted the solution in an enormous car dealership coming up on the right. Shield followed the signs to the service department around back and parked in a lot filled with older vehicles waiting to be repaired or picked up by their owners. “Let’s go,” she told Wagner as she slid the keys under the front mat. “Follow me closely, keep quiet, and don’t draw attention to yourself.”

After a two-block jog they were inside the tree line at the edge of the park. They’d made it there unobserved, fortunately, because the bloodstain on Wagner’s light-blue hoodie was getting too large to ignore. Since it was still much too early for park visitors, Shield kept to the main path that led north through the woods, confident they wouldn’t be seen. Still, she remained quiet, alert to any noise or sign of movement ahead or behind them. Though it was black as pitch out, they could move quickly because the pathway was wide and had been paved for bicycles. Wagner did a good job of keeping up, though she was breathing heavily.

The one-story safe house, set a good distance from any neighboring homes, was sadly neglected, with peeling paint, an iffy roof, and a driveway of cracked concrete and tall weeds. All the curtains were drawn, and every window was opaque with filth. From the look of it, it might have been years since anyone had last used the residence for any significant amount of time.

Shield hoped they’d at least find a working phone.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Wagner bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. The sleeve where she’d been shot was saturated with blood.

“There’s nothing else around.”

“What’s this house supposed to be?”

“A safe house is a place where ops or agents can find refuge until further notice or a place to hide witnesses.”

Wagner straightened and stared at the sagging porch. “It looks…spooky.”

“As long as we find a phone, I don’t care what the house looks like.” Shield tried the front door, the Walther at the ready. Locked. Wagner stayed close behind her as she made her way around to the back. The back exit was locked as well, but the wood was so warped there was a gap between the door and frame, enough to pop it open with the security keycard from her wallet. The Russian goons who’d overpowered them in the tunnel had taken only her Glock.

“Wait here,” she told Wagner. She slipped inside and slid her hand along the wall until she found a light switch. She flipped it on, relieved when a dim bulb came to life, illuminating a small, sparsely furnished kitchen.

She turned on more lights and looked around, giving the half dozen rooms a thorough check in the space of a couple of minutes. Two small bedrooms, one bath, a living room, dining room, and kitchen. Although everything was dusty and worn, the place did indeed conform to the usual safe-house standards: it was isolated, with a good view of the surrounding area, and had multiple exits and basic, functional furniture. Little else, except for a few kitchenware items and minimal bedding and towels. The less clutter in a place like this, the better. It was easier to tell immediately if anyone had been there and changed anything, and it was tougher to conceal cameras or listening devices.

Many safe houses also had a place to hide things—weapons, documents, even people. Did this one? For the moment, her priority was the phone she spotted on the end table beside the couch. “You can come in,” she called out to Wagner.

Wagner, hugging herself, came in from the kitchen and looked around. “At least we’re safe for now,” she said with evident dismay.

“Have the White House luxuries spoiled the florist?” Shield knew she was out of line, but she didn’t care. Wagner had proved to be a liar working for a dangerous woman named TQ, a woman she’d turned a blind eye to knowing anything about, and Shield was fed up with her lies and games. She didn’t even know why she’d helped Wagner escape.

“My name is Ryden,” Wagner replied angrily. “And no, the White House and everything about it is a nightmare I hope to one day forget.”

“Then get comfortable. I don’t know how long we’ll have to stay here.”

“I thought they were coming to get us.”

“That depends on what’s going on at headquarters and whether they think it’s safe.”

“When are you going to call them?”

“As soon as I figure out what to tell them.”

“What do you mean?”

Shield locked the door and took a seat on the couch. “I want you to tell me what the hell is going on—who this TQ is and how she involved you. And then I want to know how the hell you pulled this off.”

“Look,” Wagner replied, as she sat on an armchair to Shield’s left, “I know you’re angry and you have every reason to be, but I did what I had to, to stay alive.”

“The only reason you’re alive, that
both
of us are alive, is by the grace of a complete stranger. I don’t understand why she helped us, but we owe her our lives.” Shield tried to keep her voice steady and not let her bottled-up anger take over. “What
you
did—your lies and deceptions, kidnapping the president and getting innocent people killed in the process, and then trying to seduce me to throw me off track—is not why you’re still alive.”

“They promised me freedom,” Wagner said coldly. “And I did not try to seduce you.”

“Stop repeating that ridiculous mantra. Did you really think they’d let a nobody live to tell what happened? High-profile people have been permanently silenced for a lot less. Do you have any idea how ludicrous you sound?”

“What the hell was I supposed to do? Go to jail and wait for death? Do you think I went looking for them, for this whole absurd weirdness?” Wagner winced. “They framed me, killed my customer and his ex-wife with my stem cutter, and placed it back in my shop where the police found it covered in blood. I didn’t stand a chance.”

“Didn’t you get a lawyer?”

“A fancy-looking one came to me while I was being held for questioning. Initially, I thought my colleague sent him. I’d asked her to find me a lawyer, a pro bono one. Some guy in an expensive suit showed up instead and got me out then took me to his equally expensive office, where he told me if I refused to work for his client they’d provide solid evidence against me. Witnesses who saw me being intimate with the victim on various occasions.”

“Were you?”

“With Tim? No. Never. I hardly knew the man.”

“Who hired this lawyer to represent you?”

“He never said, but as time went by and they started to operate and school me, this woman would call to check on my progress. She never said so, but I know she was the client the lawyer had referred to. She was behind it all.”

“Was TQ her name?”

“She never mentioned a name,” Wagner replied. “No one ever mentioned their name, except for the woman who trained me, taught me manners, how to talk, sound, walk, politics, how to hold a damn fork, and every other little thing.”

“How do you know this woman who called was the brain behind this scheme?”

“Just the way she talked to me. Like it was up to her to decide whether my transformation was successful and I was ready to proceed with what they wanted from me. It wasn’t until I was ready for the job that they revealed who I was to double.”

“The president.”

“I only realized after the swelling from the operations had gone down and they let me look at myself for the first time in the mirror.”

“This woman—”

“It looks like she knows or owns a lot of people in high places, including Moore,” Wagner went on. “That’s why I was terrified to talk to you or even suggest what was going on. The woman gets personal invites to the White House. That should tell you how powerfully dangerous she is. Christ, I wouldn’t be surprised if she owned the place.”

“How do you know she gets invites?”

“Because that’s where I finally put a face to the voice. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.”

Shield sat forward. “You what?”

“She was invited to the state dinner for the Argentine president, and Moore introduced us. She came especially to check on me.”

“I saw her.” Shield remembered the older, attractive woman who’d arrived late.

“It was because of her I needed to get away and collect myself. You came to my room that night and we almost kissed…” Wagner went silent.

“The woman with the white hair.”

“And you didn’t have the pleasure of talking to her. She has the coldest voice and deadest eyes I’ve ever seen. My skin crawled when I touched her hand. It was like ice.”

Shield got up. “Who is she?”

“According to the guest list I studied and Rat…
Moore
…her name is Theodora Rothschild.”

Shield ran her hand through her hair as she stared at the floor. “I know that name, but from where?” she said to herself.

“Of the Rothschild Auction Houses.”

“The auction…you must be kidding.”

“Why?”

“She’s a client of mine,” Shield said. “Her secretary places orders directly to Tuscany.”

“But she doesn’t know you.”

Shield was still in disbelief. Rothschild was a huge name in the auction business, and although probably a wealthy individual, the woman had the power to own politicians and organize crimes of this magnitude? “Why would she? I’ve never dealt directly with her, and for privacy and security reasons due to my job with the EOO, I kept my company under Pepo’s name. The original owner.”

“But I swear I don’t know who this TQ is that that woman who saved us accused me of working for.”

Shield was lost in thought. “Huh? Yeah, the name doesn’t mean anything to me, either.”

She reached over and picked up the phone. “But maybe my employer knows.” Thankfully, she got a dial tone. “Shield, 29041971. Put me through to Pierce ASAP.”

*

Southwestern Colorado

Montgomery Pierce sat in his favorite armchair while Joanne massaged his shoulders.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised the grave was empty,” he said.

The op they’d sent to Kansas to check on Dario’s supposedly dead sister had confirmed Chase’s suspicions. Chase hadn’t sounded at all surprised when Monty called to tell her but had tried to reassure him they at least had something to go on. First thing tomorrow morning, she was going to Kansas herself to find anyone who knew the Imperis.

Reno had been assigned to find any adoption papers from the period that matched, but so far, his attempts had been fruitless. The baby had probably been sold, and no legal papers were ever drawn.