Page 49 of A Touch of Treachery (Section 47 #3)

CHARLOTTE

“H ow did this happen?” General Percy demanded, pacing back and forth.

No one responded, and he kept pacing, his footsteps quick and heavy enough to rattle the shelves in Henrika’s library.

Two hours had passed since Henrika, Bryce, and their men had kidnapped Desmond.

Joan and the members of the strike team had found me standing on the shore, the gun still in my hand, staring out over the lake as if I could magically rewind time and save Desmond, instead of letting him slip through my fingers.

Joan had demanded to know what happened, so I’d told her everything Henrika had said and done in the clearing.

A Section medic had injected me with something that finally stopped the ringing in my ears and soothed my other injuries.

Joan had walked me back to the clearing, where I’d fished Desmond’s pocket watch out of the snow.

Then she’d escorted me back to the hotel, although I didn’t really remember the journey.

Now I was slumped in a chair in Henrika’s library, which had already been searched by the Section techs. Gia was standing by the fireplace, her arms crossed over her chest, while Joan was ensconced at the desk, poking around on Henrika’s laptop.

And then there was General Percy, who had been pacing for the last ten minutes, alternately receiving updates on and barking orders into his phone.

“Anything?” Percy snapped.

Diego shook his head. The tech expert was sitting at a table in the corner, a couple of laptops spread out in front of him.

“Nothing yet, sir. According to the Section agents stationed on the far side of the lake, Henrika set off a series of explosives buried in the sand when her boat landed, making it impossible for them to immediately follow. Henrika, Bryce, and their men got into some SUVs and drove up a neighboring mountain. They detonated several more explosives behind them, making the terrain impassable for other vehicles. After that, Henrika and the others boarded a helicopter hidden on top of the mountain and took off.”

Diego shifted in his seat. “They also deactivated all the comms equipment and trackers Desmond was wearing.”

General Percy muttered a curse, then raised the phone to his ear and barked out some more orders. “I want drone and satellite surveillance of the entire area. Find out where that chopper went right now .”

“They won’t find Henrika,” I said, slowly sitting up in my chair. “This was her plan all along. Lure us to the resort, kidnap Desmond, and escape with him.”

General Percy spun around on his heel and stabbed his finger at me. “This is your fault, Ms. Locke. You were the one Henrika drew into her web, and now my son is missing as a result.”

He was right. Henrika had gotten the better of me, and now Desmond was going to suffer because of my mistakes and miscalculations.

Henrika could already have Desmond in a lab.

She could already have him strapped down to a table.

She could already be poking, prodding, and experimenting on Desmond like he was a rat she could torture however she liked . . .

Bile rose in my throat, but I choked it down. “I’m not the only one she’s playing a game with. Henrika took Desmond to send a message to you .”

Percy’s eyes grew even colder. “Be very careful what you say next, Ms. Locke.”

Gia, Diego, and Joan all looked at me, as did the General. I got to my feet, even though the motion reignited my dull, throbbing headache.

“Back in the clearing, Henrika said she wanted to figure out how Desmond survived the Redburn explosions during the Blacksea mission. But she also said Desmond being your son was a bonus, which means she wants to hurt you . This is personal to her. Personal to both of you. Why?”

General Percy drew himself up to his full height, towering over me, but I lifted my chin, squared my shoulders, and stared right back at him. “Two things, Ms. Locke. I am your superior officer. You will address me as sir.”

“And the second thing . . . sir ?” I said, a mocking tone creeping into my voice.

“Henrika Hyde is a liar and a master manipulator,” he snapped. “Maybe if you had been more concerned with those facts rather than listening to her spin stories, my son might still be here.”

My hands balled into fists, but I wasn’t about to back down.

Not when Desmond’s life was on the line.

“You and Henrika obviously have some sort of feud, but right now I don’t give a damn about that.

All I want is information. Anything you can tell me about Henrika might help me figure out where she’s taking Desmond.

So please, please tell me everything you know about her. ”

The General stared at me, emotions flickering across his face. Worry. Dread. Unease. And something that looked a lot like guilt. But just as quickly as they appeared, the emotions vanished. His face hardened, and he peered down his nose at me again.

“As of this moment, you are off the mission,” General Percy snapped. “Find your own way back to D.C., and clean out your desk, Ms. Locke. You are officially suspended from duty, pending a full investigation.”

Disbelief shot through me, along with growing fury. Percy was hiding something, and instead of coming clean, he was doubling down on his treachery, even when his son’s life was at stake. What was wrong with him? What was he hiding that was more important than saving Desmond?

Gia cleared her throat, and Percy swung his angry gaze over to the cleaner leader. “Sir, I think that’s a bit extreme, given the circumstances. Charlotte is one of our best analysts, and if anyone can find Desmond, it’s her.”

General Percy stabbed his finger at me again. “Ms. Locke is the reason my son is missing. I don’t want her anywhere near the search for Desmond. All she’ll do is fuck it up just like she’s done with everything else related to this mission.”

I grimaced, but I held my tongue. I had fucked up this mission. If only I had figured out what Henrika had wanted sooner, Desmond might still be here with me instead of in her clutches.

Percy sneered at me. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. That’s what Lockes do. They ruin missions and leave the rest of us to pick up the bloody pieces.”

Joan let out a soft gasp. Diego’s fingers froze on his keyboard, and even Gia grimaced.

I bit back my angry retort. There was no use arguing. If I sniped at Percy again, he just might fire me outright. Being suspended wasn’t much better, but at least I still had one foot in the door at Section 47.

General Percy stared at me, and I looked right back at him, doing my best to hide my fury, disgust, and worry. After several seconds, when it became apparent that I wasn’t going to mouth off again, he snapped his fingers at Joan and then at Diego.

“There’s nothing here,” he growled. “Pack it up. I want an update from the strike teams by the time we get downstairs.”

General Percy stormed out of the library. Gia gave me a sympathetic look and followed him. Joan helped Diego pack up the laptops, and the two of them also left. Neither one of them met my gaze on their way out.

I stared out over the library. The Section techs had swept through the space like a swarm of locusts.

They’d focused on the scientist’s worktable in the corner, handling the beakers, vials, and equipment with thick gloves and extreme caution, just in case Henrika had left a nasty surprise behind.

But nothing had blown up, so the techs had turned their attention to the rest of the library.

The Section agents had taken everything of value, from the cases of jewelry on the shelves to the stained-glass lamps on the end tables to the antique fountain pens in the desk drawers.

Even the liquor decanters had been bagged up and hauled away for testing, just in case the crystal held more than brandies and bourbons.

Right now, I felt very much like the ransacked library. Everything that mattered to me had been taken away—my confidence in my abilities as an analyst, my career at Section 47, and, most important of all, Desmond.

Worry shot through my heart at what Henrika might do to Desmond, but I squared my shoulders. Worrying never did anyone any good, as Grandma Jane would say, and it certainly wouldn’t help me figure out where Henrika had taken Desmond.

I moved from one side of the library to the other, hoping the Section techs had missed something and Henrika had left a clue behind, but I didn’t find anything useful.

A stray paper clip that had fallen under the desk.

A grape that had somehow escaped the refreshment tables and rolled into the corner.

A fountain pen someone had crushed underfoot and shoved aside, leaving streaks of dark blue ink on the hardwood floor.

I was just about to admit defeat when a glimmer of glass caught my eye. The photo of Henrika and her cousin Meg had been knocked off its shelf and hit the floor. I crouched down, flicked away the pieces of broken glass, and slipped the worn photo out of its now-dented silver frame.

I studied the picture again, but it was the same as before.

Henrika and Meg both smiling, despite the fact that Meg was terribly sick.

I turned the photo over, expecting the back to be blank, but to my surprise, a small doodle had been drawn in the top-right corner.

I frowned at the blue scribble. Was that . . . a clamshell?

Yes, it was a clamshell with a tiny pearl inside, and the strangest sense of déjà vu swept over me, as though I’d seen the mark somewhere before. I kept studying the symbol, but the answer didn’t come to me.

Next, I picked up the silver frame that held the photo of Henrika and Feliciano. It too had been knocked to the floor, and I plucked the picture out of the broken glass. I flipped it over, but the back was blank. A frustrated sigh escaped my lips, but I studied the image again.