10. Delfino
10
DELFINO
T he next morning, I followed Hornet to the villa’s main room, where the team was gathered, waiting to update us on the plan for Athens.
Reaper and Amaryllis stood on opposite sides of the table, body language and facial expressions in direct opposition. Greenwich and Regent were reviewing surveillance photos while drinking coffee.
“Amaryllis and Regent will accompany two MI6 operatives—Julian Everett, code name Falco, and Marina Novak, code name Harrier—who’ll pose as you and Hornet,” Reaper began.
“They look close enough to you to pass at a distance,” Greenwich added, showing us images of the operatives.
“The flight manifest has been altered to show you both on board,” Amaryllis reported. “While you stay here, safely out of sight.”
I glanced at Hornet. “It’s a solid plan.”
“Agreed. How long will you maintain the charade?” I asked.
“Three days minimum,” said Regent. “Enough time for thorough surveillance, but not so long it seems suspicious.”
“And us?” Hornet inquired.
“You’re going to become normal tourists, Greenwich replied, sliding a folder across the table. “Complete with new identities and disguises.”
I opened the folder to find Croatian passports and ID cards in the names of Ana and Mateo Radi?. “Croatian?” I raised an eyebrow.
“You speak it fluently,” Hornet noted with a slight smile.
“You don’t,” I teased. While we’d both picked up the language during a coalition operation in Zagreb last year, he hadn’t mastered the language in the same way I had.
“I’ll be a man of few words,” he replied, winking.
“It’s an uncommon choice for cover identities in this region,” Greenwich explained. “Less likely to draw attention than more prevalent nationalities.”
“Plus, your linguistic abilities make it believable,” Regent added. “The disguises will handle the physical changes.”
“When do you leave?” I asked Amaryllis.
“Two hours. We’ll establish in-person surveillance on Jekyll as soon as we arrive.”
The team dispersed to prepare, leaving Hornet and me alone with the dossiers. He moved behind me, arms encircling my waist as I studied the surveillance photos of the Athenian streets where Jekyll had been seen.
“You know, a few days of normalcy might be exactly what we need,” he murmured against my ear.
“Normalcy wearing wigs and colored contacts while hunting a ghost?”
His chuckle vibrated against my back. “Our version of normal, yes.”
The following day, Amaryllis’s voice crackled through our secure line as Hornet and I lounged on the terrace of our villa, carefully positioned away from any possible surveillance.
“Visual confirmation of Jekyll at an oncology clinic on Kifisias Avenue. Regent found evidence of past visits as well.”
“Another case of medical care making good cover for information exchanges?” I asked.
“Possibly, although he was there for almost two hours.”
When my heart stuttered, I shook my head, reminding myself of the possibility that this was another of Jekyll’s ploys.
“Did you attempt contact?” Hornet queried.
“Negative. I was moving in when an SUV careened, nearly hitting me. By the time I recovered, Jekyll had entered another vehicle and departed.”
“Coincidence?” I asked.
“Doubtful,” Amaryllis responded. “The timing was too perfect.”
“Did you get images?” Hornet pressed.
“Sending now.”
My tablet pinged with an incoming file. I opened it to find several high-resolution photos of Jekyll leaving the clinic. Unlike previous surveillance images, where he appeared to be deliberately showing himself, these captured him in an unguarded moment. His face looked drawn, with deep lines I hadn’t noticed before. He’d lost weight, his clothes hanging slightly looser on his frame.
“He looks ill,” I said softly, handing the tablet to Hornet.
“I thought the same,” Amaryllis confirmed. “This might explain why he suddenly resurfaced after eleven years.”
The oncology connection opened a new dimension to the puzzle. Except, where he was concerned, we should consider that, with him, anything was possible.
“Continue surveillance,” Hornet instructed.
“Copy that. Will report back later.”
After ending the call, I moved to the railing, looking out over Budva’s stunning coastline. Hornet joined me, his hand finding mine.
“What are you thinking?” he asked quietly, squeezing my fingers.
If there was anyone I could trust to admit what could be naivete, it was Hornet. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What if he’s dying? What if that’s why he’s letting himself be seen? A final chance to…I don’t know, make amends?”
“It’s possible,” he acknowledged.
“Or it’s a strategic maneuver.”
“Agreed.”
While the decoy team continued their surveillance in Athens, Hornet and I embraced our tourist identities with surprising ease. Disguised as Ana and Mateo Radi?—me with auburn hair cut in a stylish bob, him with darker hair and designer glasses—we strolled Budva’s ancient streets hand in hand.
“Your accent is slipping,” I teased as we walked along the marina, the setting sun painting the water in fiery oranges and reds.
“Only when you distract me,” he replied, pulling me closer. “Which is constantly.”
I laughed, leaning into him. For brief moments, I could almost forget why we were here—almost believe we were simply a young couple enjoying a Mediterranean holiday. The freedom of anonymity was intoxicating after months of being under protection.
“What will you do when this is over?” I asked, breaking my own rule about not discussing the future. “When we find Jekyll and get the answers we’re looking for?”
Hornet was quiet for a moment, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. “I haven’t thought that far ahead,” he admitted. “Typhon will surely have my head for disobeying direct orders.”
“I won’t let him,” I said fiercely. “This is on me, not you.”
“My choices, my consequences, Kima.” He stopped, turning to face me. “And I’d make the same ones again.”
The way he looked at me then—as though I was the center of his universe—made my heart beat faster. “We could disappear,” I suggested, only half joking. “Change our names, find some remote island.”
“And leave everything we’ve worked for behind?” He smiled softly. “You’d be restless within a week.”
“Maybe,” I conceded. “But it would be worth it.”
Back at the villa that evening, Greenwich and Reaper had set up an extensive digital workstation. Multiple screens displayed data streams and surveillance feeds from Athens.
“Any updates from Amaryllis?” I asked, dropping my tourist persona as we entered.
“Nothing yet,” Reaper reported. “We’ve been digging into Dr. Suzanne Henning’s background,” Greenwich added. “Amaryllis’s missing mentor.”
“And?” Hornet prompted.
“There’s almost nothing on her before her appointment at the Air Force Academy,” Greenwich replied, pulling up a sparse file. “Her credentials check out, but her personal history is minimal.”
“Part of that can be explained by her role at the NSA,” said Reaper. “But when we went deeper, there’s still nothing.”
“Have we cross-referenced her with any intelligence databases?” Hornet asked.
“All the ones we have access to,” Reaper confirmed. “Nothing.”
If someone performed a similar search for anyone who worked for Unit 23, it would yield the same results, so it wasn’t that unusual, and I said as much.
“Delfino is right,” Hornet agreed.
I studied the woman’s photograph, but she wasn’t familiar to me. I sensed we were missing something critical—some connection that would make the disparate pieces fit together. The diplomatic immunity angle, Jekyll’s possible illness, the missing professor turned NSA operative.
“Can you pull up all the surveillance photos we have of Jekyll since he reappeared three months ago? I want to look for clues we might have missed,” I said to Reaper.
“Roger that,” he responded.
For hours, we combed through the images, mapping locations, contacts, and time frames. The thing that stuck out to me the most was Jekyll reappearing when Typhon was abducted and held hostage in Belgrade. When he told me my stepfather was still alive, I’d been too stunned to think through any but the most basic questions. In the following weeks, I hadn’t wanted to question him in depth, given Typhon would probably pick up on my plan to search for Jekyll. Now, though, I needed answers. I just couldn’t imagine how the conversation would go.
Later that night, as Hornet and I lay together in our room, I found myself unable to sleep despite his comforting presence beside me.
“What’s keeping you awake?” he asked.
“Typhon and Jekyll.”
“You should call him,” he suggested.
I sighed, rolling onto my back. “I abandoned his protection and went rogue. He’s probably furious.”
“Probably,” Hornet agreed. “But he cares about you more than his pride.”
“You think he’d help rather than demand I return to London?”
“If that was his plan, he’s had every opportunity to come get you himself. According to Reaper, he’s accepted that finding Jekyll is something you need to do. Admittedly, I was stunned, but it’s a testament to how much you mean to him.”
“Eliza’s influence, maybe,” I suggested, thinking of Typhon’s new wife, who had a remarkable ability to temper his more autocratic tendencies.
“Perhaps,” Hornet agreed. “But there’s one way to find out.”
I wrestled with the decision through the night and into the next morning. Finally, after our secure check-in with Amaryllis—who reported Jekyll had left Athens without attempting to make contact—I decided Hornet was right.
With trembling fingers, I dialed the secure number I knew Typhon would answer regardless of time or place. He picked up on the second ring.
“Delfino.” His deep voice held none of the fury I’d expected—only a hint of relief.
“Sir,” I replied, falling back on formality. “I?—”
“Are you safe?” he interrupted, cutting through preliminaries.
“Yes.”
“And Hornet is with you?”
I glanced at Hornet, who stood nearby, ready to take the phone if needed. “Yes. He’s been…invaluable.”
A brief silence followed, then a soft exhale. “Good.”
The lack of recrimination threw me. “You’re not angry?”
“Furious,” he corrected, but his tone stayed measured. “But my concern for you on a personal level outweighs the fact that you disobeyed direct orders.”
“Did I? I seemed to have missed the part where I left Maltese intelligence and the coalition and joined Unit 23.”
Hornet smiled, and Typhon chuckled.
“There’s the brat I know and love,” he muttered.
“I couldn’t stay locked away while he’s out here. I need answers.”
“I know.” Another pause. “That’s why I didn’t come after you myself.”
The admission stunned me. “Are you suggesting you knew my plan?”
“In hindsight, maybe I sensed it. I’ve known you since you were fifteen, Kima.” His use of my real name rather than my code name softened something inside me. “Now, tell me why you really called. I know it wasn’t to make sure I wasn’t angry with you.”
I smiled too. “What happened between you and Jekyll in Belgrade?”
“At first, I thought I was hallucinating,” he began. “Then, I confronted him. I wanted answers.”
“Did you get them?”
“Some, yes.”
“I need to know, Leviticus,” I pressed, using his given name. “Whatever you’re trying to protect me from knowing, don’t.”
He sighed. “I asked if his Russian comrades rescued him that day. His response was that if he hadn’t gone along with what ‘they’ wanted, he feared they’d kill you and Nina.”
“So he never gave you a straight answer about who ‘they’ were,” I said.
“That’s right. He went on to say that everything he did was to protect you and your mother.”
“What else?” I pressed.
“He specifically brought up the internal affairs after-action report regarding the op, saying he believed it contained evidence implicating several other double agents. At the same moment I demanded he admit he was working with the Russians, it dawned on me that he wasn’t.”
“Who did you think it was instead?”
“The Calabrians and Sicilians. Again, he didn’t respond when I asked, only pushing me to tell him what evidence SIS had on that op of eleven years ago. When I refused, he said he couldn’t help me if I wouldn’t help him. After that, someone hit me from behind and I lost consciousness. When I came to, Jekyll was gone and your boyfriend was part of the team who rescued me.”
“His biggest concern then was what was in that brief,” I said.
“That’s right.”
“Were there other agents implicated?”
“There were not. Tell me what you’re thinking, Kima.”
“Have you been briefed on Hornet’s meeting with Baikal in Moscow?”
“Affirmative,” said Typhon.
“So you know he suggested that Jekyll was working with someone other than the FSB, tracking their trafficking networks.” I pulled up Hornet’s brief that contained the transcript of their conversation. “He also said, ‘The real mystery isn’t whether Jekyll betrayed his country. It’s what he found that made him give up everything—including his family.’”
“Right,” Typhon muttered.
One additional line stood out to me. “When Hornet said that eleven years was a long time to play such a dangerous game, Baikal’s response was, ‘Unless survival isn’t the primary goal.’”
Typhon was eerily quiet after I told him about Jekyll’s visits to the oncology clinic and our growing suspicions that he might be ill.
“The most recent images I’ve seen…he looks far older than he should. Eleven years changes a man, but not that much,” he muttered.
“What should I do?” I asked, hating how young I suddenly sounded.
“What you’re already doing,” he replied. “But remember who Jekyll was—the man who raised you, who taught you to question everything. He wouldn’t leave a trail unless he wanted you to follow it.”
After I ended the call, Hornet wrapped his arms around me. “You okay?”
“Better than I expected,” I admitted. “He was almost…understanding.”
“As I said, the man cares for you.”
“And he’ll still kill you when this is over,” I added with a small smile.
“Probably,” Hornet agreed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Worth it, though.”
We rejoined the others in the main room, where Reaper was leaning against his chair, seemingly lost in thought.
“What’s up?” I asked, walking over to him.
“I received an encrypted message from an unknown source.”
“And?” Hornet asked. “Were you able to access it?”
“Yes. It contained one word— Minerva .”
“Minerva?” Hornet repeated. “The Roman goddess?”
My eyes met Reaper’s, and a chill ran up my spine. Clearly, the message jarred him in the same way it had me.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Hornet said, looking between us.
Reaper shook his head. “My gut’s telling me it’s significant.”
Mine was too.