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Niven St. Thomas was a dichotomy, much like the report itself. He excelled in many areas of expertise essential to being part of the unit. Most notably, high-level surveillance in foreign countries and identifying and tracking targets for operations.
Where he proved to be critically incompetent was hot extractions of undercover operatives. It was on one such mission that Jekyll, myself, and several other agents assigned to an op near the border of Russia and Ukraine were surrounded by FSS–or Federal Security Service—assassins. Our covers had been blown minutes before we extracted five of Russia’s “enemies of the state.”
When we sent an 1199, it was up to Saint to get us out alive. Instead, only two of us survived—Rile and me—and the only reason I did was because he’d pulled me away from Jekyll, who was already dead, and forced me into the Akicita rescue helicopter seconds before we were both killed.
We lost six of our team that day, along with all five assets we were sent in to extract.
After a formal inquiry into the failed mission concluded, Saint was removed from the unit. Neither Rile nor I received a copy of the internal affair’s findings, so what exactly had happened that day, we’d never know. Every effort I’d made to get my hands on it was blocked. Even Z wasn’t able to help me.
Rile’s theory was that one of the six operatives lost was the mole. I couldn’t accept that possibility. From the day it happened to now, and likely until the day I died, I blamed Saint—the same man who was approaching my car, eyes ablaze with rage. I exited my vehicle and walked toward him with my hand firmly on my gun.
“My wife and unborn child are in surgery. Do you really think I’d be armed, you fucking arsehole?” he shouted when we were within a few yards of each other.
I lowered my hand.
“I’m here to tell you to leave.”
I studied him. “I will do so when I hear it from Eliza.”
He stepped closer and got in my face. “I’m telling you to get in your fucking car, return to whatever hellhole you crawled out of, and forget you ever met my cousin.”
“As I said.”
“I have forbidden her to see you again. Whatever sick game you’re playing as a means to get back at me ends now.”
“My interest in Eliza is in spite of you, not because of you.”
“I don’t believe a word that comes from your filthy mouth. You either stay away, or I will tell her exactly who you are and what you do.”
“You’ll be charged with treason.” I looked past him and saw Eliza approaching.
He shook his head. “I don’t care. Stay the hell away from her. If you don’t, I’ll fucking kill you,” he seethed.
“Niven? What’s going on?” asked Eliza.
He spun around, stormed past her, and went inside.
“Levi? What did Niv say to you?” she asked, stepping closer.
“He told me I could leave, but I refused, saying I’d wait to speak with you.”
Her eyes scrunched. “Was that all?”
I reached for her hand. “He’s terribly worried about his wife and baby. I am the easiest target to lash out at. I’m sure his anger will subside once he knows they’re okay.”
“It’s what I came to tell him. The surgery was successful, and he’ll be able to see Harper soon.” Her eyes bored into mine. “I could’ve sworn I heard him threaten to kill you.”
“I’ve no doubt you misunderstood.”
She studied me. “I did come out to tell you it’s okay to leave.”
“Where will you stay?” I asked.
“Here with Niven, for now.”
“Once Harper is released, I doubt your cousin will be able to leave her for the length of time it would take to go round trip to London.”
“I can take the train.”