Page 16

The building loomed against the gray skyline, all sleek glass and sharp edges. A fortress for the powerful…and corrupt, Tommy suspected.

Tommy squirmed in his seat, his gaze locked on the entrance, where Viktor and Jessie had disappeared inside. Tessa sat stiff and silent beside him.

After cruising around the block, Clarence parked across the street, close enough to watch the building but far enough not to draw attention. So far, no one had come or gone since the pair had entered.

Tommy wrestled with his emotions over seeing his sister. Wrestled with questioning Tessa about the man posing as Viktor, but whom she claimed was her stepfather.

The stepfather who had murdered her mother and been killed in prison? Holy hell.

The ghosts of the past were indeed alive and creating nightmares. He exhaled slowly through his nose, fidgeting with the laptop. “I know you have a theory. Out with it.”

Her hand tightened on her phone, her attention riveted on the imposing structure. “I wish I did.”

“Come on, Tessa. Jessie’s alive. Your stepfather’s alive and posing as Viktor Renard. They’re working together with the group behind the EMP attacks. What the hell is going on?”

She was already so stiff that he feared touching her might make her break apart. Yet, at his words, she stiffened further. Tommy wondered if she planned to stonewall him entirely.

Because he knew—knew—she was putting together the pieces of this puzzle. That’s what The Architect did. She built theories and profiles the same way she designed buildings.

“Yes,”

she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s him. He’s older, obviously, but I’d never mistake him for anyone else.”

That was understandable, seeing as how he’d killed her mother.

“Jessie is working with him,”

she continued as if repeating it to herself would help her process it, “and they’re running a widespread plan to destabilize US military bases and frame the swans—and by association—the CIA, for it. The design of such a plan is staggering. He must’ve been planning this for years.”

Nerves clawed at him. “But why?”

“Revenge,”

she said without hesitation. “He must have believed The Agency would take care of him after he killed Mom. That he wouldn’t end up in prison. His murder was staged, he escaped, and now he’s seeking revenge.”

“Which lets the CIA off the hook for faking his death,”

Tommy said. “If they’d played a part in it to get him out of prison, he wouldn’t want revenge on them.”

Working it through aloud, her body unfroze, and she nodded. “Someone he met in prison offered him an opportunity. Someone who had powerful connections in the outside world.”

“Like our Russian investors?”

“Bigger, I imagine. A power player. Whoever it is, they discovered Harris had been a consultant for the CIA, and I’d bet that player has ties to the Russian government.”

“FSB recruited Harris in jail?”

She nodded. “Them or one of their other undercover agencies. It makes sense.”

A sleek silver Audi SUV stopped in front of the entrance. Several men in suits exited. A second vehicle pulled up behind them and out piled men in sunglasses and earbuds. From the bulge under their jackets, Tommy knew they were armed. Bodyguards. He raised his phone and snapped pictures of all of them as they entered the building.

“And who are these guests?”

Tessa asked in a voice that sounded more like her—assured and in control.

“Let’s find out,”

Tommy said, already uploading the photos to his software program. As he worked, Tessa toyed with her phone, seeming to debate whether to text or call someone. He knew what she was thinking—she wanted to put Spence or Del on tracking her stepfather’s death. To alert them that he was alive and actively working on the EMP attacks, but doing so would require her to explain everything that had happened so far.

Despite the fact that she seemed back to normal, she wasn’t. He knew the feeling. Her usual cool, detached, and logical brain wasn’t functioning rationally. No matter how hard she tried to keep her emotions at bay, they were front and center.

Time for him to step up and offer her the support she’d given him the previous night when he’d been struggling with the impact of Jessie’s manipulations. “This must be quite a blow.”

Her chuckle was humorless, bitter. “Harris had this way of making people depend on him, even when they hated him. The piece of worthless—”

She reared back and slammed her phone into the seat in front of her. It hit the leather and fell harmlessly to the floor as she raked both hands over her face, through her hair. Then she took a giant breath, and it was like she shut all the emotion down again. “I swear, Jessie looked right at me when she exited that vehicle. These windows are tinted. There’s no way she could know we’re inside.”

He’d wondered the same thing but hadn’t had time to sort it all out. “She followed us from Romania. She must’ve lost us when we switched from the train to the plane but figured out our destination, and that’s why Renard—Harris—was picking her up at the airport.”

“Which means that he knows we’re here. At least he realizes we’re in London.”

Clarence, who had been silent, spoke up. “Perhaps it’s unwise to stay in obvious view of the building.”

“Give it another minute,”

Tessa told him. “Jessie must’ve picked up on our vehicle following them and assumed it’s us—that we figured out she’s alive or that her partner in crime is on our radar.”

“Did you see her face?”

Tommy asked. “The left side looks like it’s… I don’t know. Messed up. Scarred.”

“Her cheekbone had been broken and didn’t heal correctly.”

She hesitated a second, giving a slight head shake and staring out the window again, but seeming to see something else. “My mother had those kinds of injuries. Harris left significant damage and scars on her from his beatings. She would never go to the hospital, so some of them didn’t heal properly.”

Tommy’s gut clenched. “Jessie was beaten and tortured.”

Tessa seemed reluctant to confirm it but did with a jerky nod. “For all we know, she was kidnapped by Hagar, and it was his doing. At some point before the beheading, Harris stepped in as Viktor and traded her out. That’s my guess.”

His stomach twisted harder. He was no stranger to torture, but it was rare in his line of work behind a desk with computer code filling his head. The thought of Jessie enduring that kind of pain made his blood boil.

Tessa glanced at his screen, the program scanning the faces of the men who’d entered the building. “If Harris rescued her, that would explain why she’s with him now. She might feel like she owes him her life.”

“Top shelf manipulation,”

Tommy said.

Tessa retrieved her phone from the footwell. Across the street, movement at the entrance drew Tommy’s attention once more. Two of the visiting guards had been joined by three others—probably Harris’ team. They weren’t average bodyguards—they had the hard look of mercenaries and the movements of highly trained former military personnel.

As one, they seemed to zero in on the Mercedes. Clarence’s voice remained cheerful as he said, “It appears we have been spotted, m’Lady. Shall we make a hasty retreat?”

“Dammit,”

Tommy muttered, shoving his laptop onto the seat. “Drive, man!”

The SUV roared to life, pulling away from the curb just as the security team ran toward them. Tommy twisted in his seat, watching as the men pivoted, climbed into the pair of Audis, and began following.

Tessa chewed her bottom lip, also twisting to watch. “Clarence, you’ll need to use some of that defensive driving.”

“Understood,”

the man replied. “Let’s see if they can keep up.”

The next few minutes were a race of sharp turns, sudden stops, and narrow escapes as the butler with skills navigated the labyrinthian streets of Ilford. Tommy shifted between gripping the door handle, the back of the driver’s seat, and Tessa’s hand as they narrowly avoided collision after collision, darting between double-decker buses and jetting through red lights.

His adrenaline spiking, he felt the odd need to reassure Tessa. “You’re right. Your driver is good. We’ll lose them any minute.”

Clarence caught his eye in the rearview, his patient grin in place. It seemed to say, I told you so. “We both want the same thing—to keep Ms. Vulpe safe.”

Tommy clapped the man’s shoulder over the back of the seat. “Her safety above all else, got it?”

“Must I remind you that I’m a trained CIA operative?”

Tessa called over the squealing tires.

“Retired,”

Tommy corrected.

She met his eyes. Sheer determination shone in them. “Not anymore.”

And, just like that, Contessa Vulpe was back in action.

He squeezed her hand as they rounded another corner to the blare of car horns. “Good,”

he said. “Time to kick some ass.”

The next swerve caused her to tumble into his lap. He hugged her to him, providing a solid barrier between her and the door. “I’ve got you,” he said.

* * *

They were back in the congested London streets before they lost their pursuers. “All clear,”

Clarence sang cheerfully, avoiding the main thoroughfares. “Shall we return to the castle?”

“Any chance Jessie knows about that place?”

Tommy asked.

Tessa was still half in his lap. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry to move away. “I’ve never talked about that part of my life with anyone, so no.”

“What about your stepdad?”

“Since Mom gave up all rights to her inheritance when she was disowned by her family, it’s doubtful. However, if he’s run a background check on me, he may have found it.”

“We can protect you,”

Clarence said. “And there’s always Gryffindor. That’s in my name.”

“Gryffindor?”

Tommy asked. “Like Harry Potter?”

“Long story,”

Tessa said. “Basically, grandfather willed his summer home to Clarence, and I’ve asked him to keep it well stocked in case I ever need it. It was named Gryffindor long before the famous wizard became one.”

She spoke to the chauffeur. “Take us to the castle. I need to think before I do anything else.”

“Yes, m’Lady,”

he responded.

“Before we do anything else,”

Tommy corrected. “You’re not in this alone.”

They were pulling into the long drive when Tessa’s phone rang. She glanced at it and froze.

“Meg?”

Tommy guessed.

She blinked. “Blocked number.”

Could it be Jessie? He grabbed the phone. “Let me answer it.”

Her steely gaze met his, and she jerked it away. “No. It’s time for me to face this.”

She punched the button and put it on the speaker. “You’ve got thirty seconds to explain yourself.”

But it wasn’t Jessie.

“Hello, my little fox,”

a man’s voice purred. “It’s been far too long.”

Tessa’s sucked in a breath. She said nothing, then Tommy saw her icy control slip into place. “Not long enough, in my opinion. What do you think you’re doing? You can’t outsmart the CIA.”

“Oh, Tessa, I think you know better than that. Come to me. We have much to discuss. Opportunities for you and the young Mendoza boy.”

Tommy ripped the phone from her. “Not a chance, you bastard,”

he snapped. “Put my sister on the line.”

Harris ignored him. “Tessa, don’t make me come find you. You know I will. The consequences will be so…unpleasant.”

Tessa let go of one of those emotionless chuckles. This one was edged with resolve. “Try it, you son of a bitch. I’ll be waiting.”

She disconnected, her hand shaking as she stared at the phone. Tommy knew she wasn’t seeing it. She was lost in her memories.

“Let him come,”

he growled. “He’ll learn a whole new meaning of the word ‘unpleasant.’”

Tessa met his eyes, a stark fear quickly covered by that damn barrier she was struggling to keep in place. “This is my fight, Tommy.”

He grabbed her by the back of the head and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Not anymore. He’s going down, and I’m the one who’s going to do it.”