Chapter 36 #2
Given that Lowbridge is committed to murdering me and taking my clubs for himself, his visible resentment that Agatha should be a member rather than him is more than a little ironic.
Luke and I both give a silent huff of laughter. It’s a reminder of how much our minds work in concert, and I feel my tension lower slightly.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, Simon,” Agatha says with perfect dignity, “sometimes our line of work requires undesirable alliances. I have been operating under the assumption that Miss Melikov was an asset, if a slightly . . . unorthodox one. Unfortunately, one of my NCA agents gave me some information today to the contrary.” She takes a rather heavy swallow of her whiskey.
“It appears I may have misjudged you, Simon. Miss Melikov, I believe, has not only been using Sophie’s House as a cover for her trafficking operations, but also, I regret to say, manipulating my own agents to assist her. ”
Her mask does nothing to hide a grimace of disgust that looks entirely unfeigned.
I can’t help but smile. Agatha might loathe deception, but she’s doing a damned good job of it.
“I did try to warn you, Agatha.” Simon’s lips curl smugly beneath a black leather half mask which someone must have told him looks kinky, but which in fact makes him look like a cartoon Robin to somebody else’s much more dangerous Batman.
“Bedding down with a psychopathic dog like Melikov involves some very ugly fleas.”
Luke’s hand tenses on the dressing table beside me. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy seeing this fucker go down,” he mutters. I don’t miss the hard edge to his voice, nor the way he instinctively moves closer to me.
I smile coldly. “Not as much as I will.”
“Ha.” The soft caress of Luke’s eyes on mine is brief, but enough to warm me all the way through.
“Luckily for you,” Simon goes on, “I’ve already made plans to eradicate the Melikov infestation completely.”
Agatha looks at him with an impressive imitation of admiration. “You have? Already?”
“Yes. And your invitation came at exactly the right time.” His nod is pathetically triumphant.
“I’ve had a diplomatic associate keeping a close eye on Melikov for some time now.
He’s put together a team from special forces, capable of completely neutralizing Melikov and her entire operation.
” He turns in his seat, his mask doing nothing to hide his enthusiasm.
“Obviously, Agatha, I’d never usurp your authority.
But one word from you, and this can all end tonight. Here.”
“My goodness, Simon.” Agatha sits back in the booth, looking horrified. “I invited you here to discuss options, not to authorize a bloody coup.”
“Christ.” Luke gives a low laugh. “She’s damned good.”
Simon tilts his head to one side, his eyes calculating behind his mask. “Has it occurred to you,” he says, “that we were invited here tonight because Melikov is planning something like that for us both?”
Agatha’s silver filigree mask seems to exaggerate her startled eyes as she stares around the Quartier, adding drama to her imitation of frozen shock. “Oh, God,” she says weakly. “Do you truly think she brought us here to kill us?”
Simon nods gravely. “I’m sure of it. If your agent is onto her, then believe me, Melikov knows about it. Tell me honestly—was your invitation to this ball a last-minute thing?”
Luke taps his earpiece. “Tell him yes,” he murmurs to Agatha through his comms. “Tell him Zin was trying to set him up.”
Agatha’s expression, to her credit, doesn’t betray Luke’s instructions by the mildest flicker.
“It was a last-minute thing.” Her dismay is extremely believable.
“Zinaida told me that if I could get you here, she’d be able to set you up in the kind of compromising position that would end your career.
At the time, I confess I was prepared to go along.
” She shoots Simon an apologetic glance that is so out of character I genuinely struggle not to laugh.
“Then Niamh came to me this afternoon with the truth about what Zinaida has really been doing. I was worried that if I canceled your invitation, she’d be suspicious.
So now we’re here.” She gulps her whiskey, looking around nervously.
“Who is this diplomatic associate of yours? Are you sure you can trust him? Where is he now?”
Luke winces. “That was a bit obvious.” He doesn’t touch his earpiece, so the words are only for me.
“But look at Lowbridge,” I say, nodding at the screen. “The idiot’s lapping it up. He’s too stupid to see that Agatha’s setting him up.”
“Let’s hope so.” Luke’s voice is tight, his eyes locked on the screen.
“The diplomat is one of yours, actually.” Simon’s smile is oily as the Thames. “Rhys Stewart. He’s had an axe to grind with Melikov since he crossed her in Romania years ago.”
“Rhys?” Agatha’s feigned shock is so perfect she should be up for a Golden Globe. “Good God. Why didn’t he come to me with this?”
Simon gives her a look so patronizing it makes me want to slam my fist in his face. “Would you have listened if he had, Agatha? You’ve been very determined to champion Melikov, no matter the amount of bodies she’s left in her wake.”
“Oh, my goodness.” She quite literally clutches her pearls. “And you’re saying Rhys is here? Tonight?” She looks around as if terrified he will appear any second. “Where?”
“He’s waiting outside. For now.” Simon puts his head close to hers.
“At midnight,” he says in a low voice, “Zinaida Melikov is going to take that stage. When she does, the only thing standing between her and several ex–special forces snipers will be Luke Macarthur, who has no idea that his former brothers are working for the government now, under Rhys’s command.
As soldiers, and honorable men, they’re disgusted by who Macarthur is in bed with.
They volunteered to take them both out.”
Luke grins and taps his earpiece. “You copying this, boys?”
Whatever response he gets makes him give a low chuckle that runs down my spine like a tuning fork.
I’m going to miss this so much, I think, suddenly punched in the gut with longing. The way he makes me laugh at the darkness.
I’m terribly aware of his nearness. It’s an act of physical effort not to turn to him, to instead refocus my attention on the screen in front of me.
“Macarthur might be Melikov’s hired gun,” Simon is saying, “but his loyalty will always remain with his former brothers-in-arms. Tonight one of them will send word that they have information for him. He’ll come running, no questions asked.”
Agatha nods slowly. “So when Macarthur is distracted . . .”
“. . . his old colleagues will take out Melikov.” Simon nods.
“And her security detail. A clean sweep. We’ll take down her entire criminal organization in full public view.
Then we’ll sell it as a successful joint undercover operation.
It will be a coup for the government.” He raises his glass to her.
“One we can both take the credit for, Agatha. We kill Zinaida Melikov, and we’ll win the next election, no question. ”
“We’ve got him,” Luke says into his comms, grinning with satisfaction. “He just condemned himself in his own words, and we got it all on tape. Well done, Agatha. Now keep him talking until Mak turns up. And don’t worry. We’ll be listening.”
His eyes capture mine in the mirror, and he smiles reassuringly, as if he can feel my pulse racing through the thin material. One large hand comes up to my shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Are you okay?”
I nod, though my mouth is dry. No matter how many times I’ve faced death, hearing my own murder discussed in such cold terms is still jarring.
“I’ll be here, Zin.” His voice is low and calm. “It doesn’t matter if Stewart and Kozlov have a fucking army outside the theater—we’ll be ready for them. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know,” I whisper, my eyes clinging to his in the mirror.
His smile fades. “The moment we have them all,” he says quietly, “this is over, and you can get down from that stage. Shelby will be dressed, ready to take your place at a moment’s notice.”
For a moment we stare at each other. I want to speak, but the words just won’t come out.
Luke’s expression hardens. “I’ll be close,” he says harshly.
Then he turns and walks out of the room.