Chapter 36
Mia
The private jet was waiting as promised, its engines already running when we arrived. The pilot nodded curtly as we boarded, requiring no explanation or identification—clearly briefed by Winters.
As we settled into the leather seats, Connor pulled out his phone, studying a photo Winters had sent. “Is this him? Vance?”
I glanced at the screen, a chill running through me at the sight of the man I’d hoped never to see again. Gregory Vance looked unremarkable at first glance—average height, medium build, neatly trimmed brown hair. It was his eyes that revealed his true nature, dark and predatory.
The flight passed in tense silence, both of us lost in preparation and planning. I cleaned my weapons methodically, the familiar routine calming my racing thoughts. Connor studied satellite imagery of the beach house and surrounding area that Winters had sent to his tablet, identifying approach routes and potential sniper positions.
“The house is isolated,”
he noted, showing me the images. “About half a mile from the nearest neighbor. Good cover from the trees on the north side but exposed on the beach side.”
I nodded, memories of the place, playing in the sand with Lily, our mother watching from the deck, her illness not yet visible in those early days.
“There’s a service road that leads to the back of the property,”
I said, pointing it out. “And the house has a cellar accessed from outside—mom used it for storage, but it would make a perfect holding area.”
Connor studied my face. “You’re worried he’s got the place rigged.”
“It’s what I would do,”
I admitted. “Vance is thorough. He’ll have surveillance, probably explosives on the access points.”
“Then we don’t use the access points,”
Connor said simply. “We make our own.”
As we began our descent into Vancouver, Winters called with an update. “Thermal imaging picked up two heat signatures in the beach house—one stationary in what appears to be the basement area, one moving throughout the main floor.”
“Lily and Vance,”
I confirmed, relief flooding through me that she was still alive, at least for now.
“Our team is holding position two miles from the property,”
Winters continued. “Awaiting your arrival before moving in.
“We’re twenty minutes out,”
Connor informed her, checking his watch. “Have your team maintain distance. Vance will have counter-surveillance measures in place.”
“Understood,”
Winters replied. “There’s a vehicle waiting for you at a private hangar. Weapons and tactical gear are in the trunk.”
As the plane touched down, I felt a strange calm settle over me—the operational focus I’d relied on for years taking over, pushing emotions aside. This wasn’t just about saving my sister; it was about ending the last remnant of Matheson’s control over my life.
Connor must have sensed the shift in me. “Stay with me,”
he said quietly, his hand covering mine. “Don’t disappear into assassin mode completely. We need Mia for this, not just Agent Shaw.”
I met his gaze, anchoring myself in the warmth and concern I found there. “I’m here,”
I assured him. “Just... focused.”
“Good,”
he replied. “Because I need your focus, but I also need your heart. The woman who loves her sister enough to risk everything—that’s who’s going to save Lily.”
The SUV was exactly where Winters had promised, keys under the floor mat and a duffel bag of equipment in the trunk. We changed quickly into tactical gear—black combat pants, Kevlar vests, communication earpieces. The weapons were top-grade military issue, including a sniper rifle similar to the one I’d used at the estate.
“Take the coastal road,”
I directed as Connor started the engine. “It’s longer but less visible from the house.”
As we drove through the night, a light rain began to fall, misting the windshield and reducing visibility. Rather than a hindrance, I welcomed it—the weather would provide additional cover for our approach.
“Tell me about Lily,”
Connor said, breaking the tense silence. “What should I know about her?”
The question caught me off guard, but I understood its purpose—keeping me connected to the personal stakes, to the sister I was fighting to save.
“She’s gentle,”
I said after a moment. “Kind in a way that seems impossible in this world. She teaches kindergarten because she believes every child deserves a beautiful beginning.” I swallowed against the tightness in my throat. “She volunteers at an animal shelter on weekends. Reads poetry. Leaves flowers on strangers’ graves when she visits our mother’s.”
Connor nodded, his expression softening, a smile playing on his lips. “She sounds nothing like you.”
“No,”
I agreed with a laugh. “She’s the person I might have been if Matheson hadn’t found me.” The thought sobered me. “That’s why I stayed away all these years. I couldn’t risk tainting her life with what I’d become.”
“And now?”
“Now I just want her to live,”
I whispered. “Anything beyond that is a gift I don’t deserve but will cherish.”
We fell silent as the GPS indicated we were approaching our destination. Connor pulled off the road about a mile from the beach house, killing the headlights and engine. We’d rendezvous with Winters’ team here before making our final approach.
Two figures materialized from the shadows as we exited the vehicle— it had to be Ryker and Royal O’Toole, the twin brothers Declan had initially sent to protect Lily. They were disheveled, a testament to their frantic search efforts.
“No sign of forced entry at her apartment,”
Ryker reported without preamble. “But we found this.”
He handed me a small envelope. Inside was a Polaroid photograph of Lily, unconscious but apparently unharmed, lying on what I recognized as the cellar floor of the beach house. Written across the bottom in neat block letters: FOR MIA - COME ALONE OR SHE DIES.
“Classic Vance,”
I muttered, passing the photo to Connor. “Making sure I know exactly where to find them.”
“It’s a trap,”
Royal stated unnecessarily.
“Of course it is,”
I agreed. “But it’s also our only option.”
A dark SUV pulled up silently behind us, and Agent Winters emerged with three tactical team members. She approached briskly, professional as always despite the late hour and dismal weather.
“Thermal imaging confirms two heat signatures still in the house,”
she reported. “The stationary one hasn’t moved from the cellar. The other is primarily on the main floor, occasionally checking the cellar.”
“Any sign of explosives or other traps?”
Connor asked.
“We haven’t been able to get close enough for a good look without risking him seeing us,”
Winters admitted. “But our long-range equipment picked up unusual wiring around the perimeter.”
I nodded grimly. “He’ll have motion sensors at minimum, probably connected to explosives on a dead man’s switch. If he detects anyone but me approaching...”
“Then you go in alone,”
Connor said, his voice tight with controlled fear. “As bait.”
“While you set up a sniper position here,”
I confirmed, pointing to a ridge overlooking the property. “If you can get a clean shot through one of the beach-facing windows, take it. Don’t wait for my signal.”
“I don’t like this plan,”
he said, though his tone indicated he’d already accepted its necessity.
“Neither do I,”
I replied softly. “But Vance expects me to come alone, believing I’m desperate enough to save Lily that I’ll walk right into his trap. We need to use that expectation.”
Winters stepped forward. “My team can approach from the water. The beach access is less likely to be rigged since it’s more visible.”
“No,”
I said firmly. “Vance is too thorough. He’ll have underwater sensors, probably mines. Your team stays back until I’ve confirmed Lily’s location and condition.” I turned to the brothers. “You two as well. Maintain perimeter security, but do not approach unless you receive my direct command. I can’t risk Vance seeing multiple people and doing something drastic.”
“Mia,”
Connor began, his voice tight with concern.
I reached up, pressing my fingers against his lips. “I know,”
I said softly. “But this is what I was trained for. Let me use those skills one last time—for something good.”
After a moment, he nodded, his jaw set with reluctant acceptance. “I’ll be watching every second. First clean shot I get, I’m taking it.”
We finalized the details quickly—communications protocols, extraction plans, emergency signals. As the others moved into position, Connor pulled me into a fierce embrace.
“Come back to me,”
he whispered against my hair. “Whatever happens in there, whatever you have to do—just come back.”
I clung to him for a brief, precious moment. “I will. I promise.”