Page 45

45

CONOR

“No fucking way,” I clipped as I read the names on the list.

Justin DeLaCroix.

David Foundry

Sheridan Reinier

Aleksandr Kuznetsov

Bogdan Belyaev

Garry Smythe

“We all know who DeLaCroix is—chief justice and ex-head of the Sparrows. That means this meeting was no bullshit. These really are, were , at the top of the tree.”

Cin nodded. “They’re still doing well for themselves. Foundry’s the US attorney general now.”

I nodded at Cin as I crossed my ankle over my knee. “And Reinier’s the director of the CIA.”

Though I could sense that meeting with BDSec had shaken her, Star was holding her own. But she was back to saying nothing and leaving me and Cin to do most of the talking.

For a paid hitman, Cin had a great sense of humor. Give me her over Temperance any day of the fucking week.

Currently holed up in the family room of Minerva and Ovianar’s home, we were discussing the situation away from the Union guards who were waiting for us outside.

“Garry Smythe is a pretty commonly used name. But isn’t he the White House chief of staff?”

“Yeah. At least, a Garry Smythe is.”

“Never heard of Bogdan Belyaev, have you?”

Star and I shared a glance at Cin’s question, but she just admitted, “He was Katina’s father.”

Cin asked, “That’s all you know about him?”

“We know he looks like a front,” I drawled. “No debts, no car loans, no possessions apart from a single bank account and a freakin’ house. And ,” I directed at Star, “if some of Eoghan’s story is true, then he was an emissary to Russia.”

“Maybe they covered up his identity?” Star offered.

“Why though? What did they have to hide?”

“That he was a Sparrow?” Cin retorted with a snort before she changed the subject. “How didn’t your grandfather know his kid was a Sparrow?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

I thought about the conversation I’d shared with Anton prior to heading onto the private jet. “I think he thinks your mother betrayed him.”

She scowled at that. “And the son didn’t?”

“He might have been a spy,” I pointed out. “If Anton planted him there, then…”

“True.”

“How could your mom have betrayed him? She was with the CIA until she married your dad. Then she quit, right?”

Star shrugged. “I feel like whatever she told me was a lie, so I don’t know what’s true and what isn’t.”

“Do people who work for the CIA share their careers with their families? Don’t they hide it, or have I watched too many Bourne movies?”

Cin snorted. “Star and I weren’t in a position to share our job titles, no. But some are. Depends on what they do. I guess they’d just say they were analysts though. Did she tell you she was in the CIA, Star?”

“Not directly. Dad did.”

“So she told him?”

“Yeah, over tequila.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “When did you talk to him anyway?”

“Your grandfather called to confirm our flight when you were in the bathroom,” I said easily.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were too busy being beautifully angry.”

Laughing, Cin elbowed me in the side. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not,” I joked, watching as Star’s lips twitched into an aggrieved smile. “I asked him about Jorgmundgander. He claimed that it’s run by NATO and that it’s neutral.”

“Bullshit,” Cin scoffed. “Nothing’s fucking neutral in this world.”

“He meant with the Brothers and the Sparrows.”

“But that goes against what Ovianar just said.”

“It does if Jorgmundgander was being used in a Sparrow power grab,” I concurred. “But I don’t think he was lying to me. He believed what he was saying.”

“What else did he say?”

“Not much.”

“Sounds like his standard MO,” she groused. “He’s purposely keeping us in the dark.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “Maybe it’s for a reason—fresh eyes. This happened nearly seven years ago. You can’t tell me that we’re the only people he’s put on the case.”

“No,” she agreed warily. “Meaning everyone else failed.”

“He’s probably putting you through your paces as well. Wants to see what you’re capable of,” Cin stated. “You know what those fuckers are like. It’s all a game.”

With a begrudging grunt, Star nodded her agreement.

“Wonder which of these three is in charge now that DeLaCroix is out of the picture.”

I shot Dead To Me a look. “That’s a good question.”

“I’m left wondering what it was about Belyaev and Kuznetsov that required eradication…” Star rubbed the back of her neck.

“We might never know.”

Cin sniffed at my answer. “We have a time and a date now, some places too. What’s the next move?”

“Is Troy still alive?” Star asked Cin.

“Think so. She retired though.”

“My brother said you can’t retire.”

Cin arched a brow. “You can if you lose your twenty-twenty vision.”

“She’s blind?”

“Had an accident,” Cin confirmed. “Nasty one. Probably karma.”

“You’d better hope that doesn’t exist,” I pointed out.

“He’s right. Or we’re all fucked,” was Star’s gloomy rejoinder. “Where’s she living?”

“Connecticut, I think.” Cin’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Started up a bee farm. Remember she used to go on about how we were going to die without bees?”

“I remember.”

“Einstein said the same thing,” I pointed out.

Star shrugged. “Our problems have always been of the more immediate variety than global warming.”

I knocked her knee with mine. “Troy didn’t agree.” When she just hummed, I said, “We have an elephant in the room.”

“By this point, Conor, I think we have a full fucking circus,” Star groused.

“We do, but… Dagda was one of the Jorgmundgander operatives. What if your mom was a sanctioned hit?”

Her fists clenched at that. “We need answers.”

“Where do we start?” Cin asked. “Troy? She’d probably be able to help with your cousin.”

“She’s also who Kuznetsov wants handed to him on a platter,” she retorted. “I have to find my cousin and bring my uncle’s murderer to him.”

“And that’s a problem?” I queried.

“I like Troy,” she grumbled.

Cin nodded. “She’s good people.”

“For an assassin,” I joked.

“Hey, you always want us on your side,” was Cin’s comment.

“Troy was damn good at what she did too. She came up with us, but left, what? 2009, Cin?”

“Yeah. Went private. Far more lucrative. I’d heard that she got arrested in Paris so that must have been when she got involved with Jorgmundgander.”

“The bitch of it is, if I don’t want Troy to die for her part in this, then if Dagda’s hit on my mother was sanctioned, how can I blast his brains out like I’ve been trying to?”

“Revenge doesn’t have to make sense,” was all Cin said.

Star turned her gaze upon me. “I guess it doesn’t.”

“Forgiveness is a lot less complicated.”

“Plus, do you even need vengeance if you don’t like your mom anymore?”

Star huffed. “You always have to be so practical, Cin. It’s tiresome.”

“Well, sor-ry,” she grouched.

“Okay, let’s break this down. We have your uncle’s murderer and the masterminds behind it.

“We don’t know where your cousin is, but we have more names for the new Interpol division, and I can stop digging into health insurance providers for random conspiracy theories.”

“You were right though, weren’t you?”

I winked at her. “I usually am.”

Belyaev’s crash had taken place in New Cloverfield, Ohio, according to Ovianar.

Though she scoffed, she stretched out her arms and groaned. “Next move has to be Troy. She’s probably the only one who can help us because Red Knight died five years ago.”

“And he is truly missed. Not . I hated that fucker.”

“What did he do to you?” Cin’s curiosity was practically bubbling.

“He was a conspiracy theorist and he used to hunt evidence that would back up his claims. Basically, he was the search engine of conspiracies.”

Star’s lips curved. “He believed the British royal family were lizards in skin suits.”

“Not one of those morons,” Cin groaned.

“Yup. And trust me, having dealt with the royal family, I can tell you their blood isn’t blue and they’re definitely not reptilian.” Star grinned at my grimace. “So… next move?”

Cin got up and moved over to the window so she could peer out of the blinds. “I liked flying private. Think your grandfather would pop for another flight on that jet of his?”

“To visit Troy?”

“He doesn’t have to know she’s his son’s killer, Star.”

She nodded. “You’re right. We’re in agreement, then? We speak to Troy?”

“Yeah, I think that’s for the best,” I concurred.

As always, we’d gotten some answers but had blown open a minefield that we needed to dig through.

One thing was certain—those bottles of tequila we were going to drink when this was over had never been further from our reach.