13. Fly On The Wall
Fly On The Wall
Steve
The elevator doors open and Mercy is on her feet before Hope even steps into the room.
She runs.
Hope barely has time to drop the blanket from around her shoulders before Mercy reaches her, and then they’re wrapped around each other so tightly I don’t think either of them could let go if they tried.
The room goes quiet around them.
Hope’s laughing and crying at the same time. Mercy just keeps saying her name.
“Hope. Oh my God. Hope.”
I look away long enough to give them something resembling privacy, but not before I see Forest stop a few feet behind them.
He’s smiling. Tired as hell, but smiling.
Jasper, Col and Pete file in after him looking like three men who’ve had the best and worst night of their vacation at the same time.
I get up and cross the room.
“Jasper. Col. Pete.” I shake each of their hands in turn. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get involved today, and Hope’s home because you did. Great job.”
Jasper gives Forest a sideways look. “He didn’t exactly give us the boring option.”
Col grins. “We came to Vegas for a bit of excitement.”
Pete nods toward Hope. “Worth it.”
“Still,” I say. “HAVEN owes you.”
Jan comes up beside me and introduces herself, shaking their hands as well.
“Janice Hollands. And Steve’s right. Thank you for helping bring her back.”
“She looks okay,” I tell her.
“Matthias checked her before they left Vegas. I’ll still need to give her a once-over, though.”
Hope finally pulls back enough for Mercy to look at her properly.
“You’re really okay?” she asks.
“I’m really okay.”
Mercy grabs her again.
Across the room, G has already shifted Saint-Pierre back onto the main screen. The Council meeting is still running.
Hours later and they’re still talking. I glance at the clock.
That decides it.
“Right. Everyone who doesn’t need to be here, go home.”
A few heads turn toward me.
G points at himself. “Define need.”
“You and Felicity set the priority alerts, then go home. You’ve both got the secure setup there, so plug into Saint-Pierre remotely and get some sleep between anything worth waking up for.”
G looks offended. “Sleep?”
Felicity gives him a flat look. “I’ll explain the concept on the drive home.”
Jan’s mouth twitches.
I keep going.
“Serenity, Faith, Destiny, Mercy can stay long enough to get Hope checked by Jan, then that’s it. Harmony, Rafael, same deal. Nobody earns points for falling asleep at a workstation.”
Harmony nods immediately. Rafael looks relieved enough not to argue. Shane and Verity say their goodnights and start logging off.
Hope turns toward me from Mercy’s arms.
“I’m not going back to Stanford tonight, am I?”
Mercy answers before anyone else can.
“Not a chance. You’re coming home with me.”
Hope smiles.
“That works.”
“Security’s already been checked,” I tell her. “You won’t be alone and nobody knows where you’ll be. Jan’s going to do a quick check of you now.”
Forest shifts closer. Hope glances at him.
Jan catches it. So do I.
Interesting.
I’m not touching that tonight.
“Forest,” I say.
He looks over.
“You and the guys can stay at MacLeod’s Summit for the next few nights. Consider it HAVEN’s thank-you for dropping everything to help us.”
Jasper grins. “Does it have a bar?”
“Probably. If not, we’ll bloody buy you one.”
Forest laughs. “Careful. They might never leave.”
“Get a key to one of the company SUVs from Serenity to tide you over.”
Jan steps forward and guides Hope toward the med bay.
G brings up the overnight alert protocol.
“Priority triggers set for Saint-Pierre. Feed interruption, security movement, Adrian or Victor using the emergency phrase, any new Council names or operational data.”
“Route them to me.”
“And Janice?”
“To both of us,” I say.
“Thought so.”
We can monitor from the basement ops room at home once we leave here. Jan needs sleep. So does everyone else.
I look across the room again.
Mercy looks the most relieved she has all day. Forest is talking to Serenity, organizing transport. Destiny is on the phone to MacLeod’s Summit. Even at this late hour, they know the drill with HAVEN.
One operation is over.
Saint-Pierre isn’t.
I turn back to the screen.
“Let’s finish the other one.”
Blackstone Ventures HQ, San Francisco. 0120 hours.
Hope left twenty minutes ago with Mercy after Jan gave her the once-over and cleared her for the night.
Forest and his three mates are on their way to MacLeod’s Summit. G and Felicity have gone home with Saint-Pierre routed into their secure setup. Serenity, Faith and Destiny finally let me push them out the door after extracting promises that we’ll call if anything changes.
The operations room feels empty now.
Jan’s still beside me. Dimitry and Crew are here after bringing Hope in, and Harmony and Rafael are finishing the last of their notes before heading home.
On the main screen, the Council meeting continues.
Five hours.
Five bloody hours of listening to some of the most powerful people in the world discuss corruption like they’re reviewing quarterly earnings.
It’s an eye-opener.
Adrian has been extraordinary.
Questions when they matter. Silence when they don’t. Interested without being eager. Skeptical enough to make them work for his approval.
Victor barely speaks. Exactly as planned.
I rub my eyes and reach for my coffee.
Cold.
Figures.
“Steve.”
Jan’s voice changes. I look up.
Victor’s feed has shifted away from the main table. The meeting has broken temporarily, voices separating as people move around the room.
Then someone speaks close to Adrian.
“Lord Blackstone.”
I straighten.
Male. Russian accent.
Adrian turns. Alexei Rimsky stands beside him.
We identified him when he arrived, but I haven’t heard enough from him during the meeting to know his voice.
Rimsky says something too low for the wire. I boost the feed and lean closer to the speaker.
The next words come through clearly.
“You brought an interesting companion.”
Nobody in the operations room moves.
Adrian’s answer is effortless.
“Victor has worked with me for years.”
“I’m sure he has.”
Fuck.
Jan looks at me.
“Rimsky knows something. Or suspects it,” she says.
Dimitry steps closer to the screen.
“Rimsky.”
I glance at him. “What?”
“I know the name.”
“You know Alexei?”
“No.” Dimitry’s attention stays fixed on the screen. “My father knew the organization.”
That gets every bit of my attention.
“Bratva?”
“Yes. Years ago. Rimsky money crossed through some of the same networks my father dealt with. They moved into legitimate business, politics, investments. Became oligarchs instead of gangsters.”
“Same shit, better suits.”
A faint smile touches Dimitry’s mouth.
“Something like that.”
On the feed, Rimsky lifts a glass from a passing server.
Adrian doesn’t move.
“Anything about Alexei specifically?” I ask.
“Not enough.”
“Helpful.”
“You want me to invent something?”
“No.”
That’s exactly why I trust him.
Rimsky takes a drink. Then his voice drops again.
“Whatever organization your companion belongs to, tell them they’re looking in the wrong places.”
Every person in the room freezes.
Fuck me.
Adrian’s expression doesn’t change.
“I’m afraid I have no idea what you mean.”
“Of course not.”
Rimsky walks away. Just like that.
I stare at the screen.
Harmony speaks first. “He knows.”
“Or he’s fishing,” Rafael says.
“Either way, he just handed Adrian a message,” Jan says.
Dimitry’s expression has hardened.
I look at him.
“Do you trust him?”
“No.”
The answer comes immediately.
Then Dimitry looks toward the other Council representatives scattered through the bunker.
“But I believe he hates them.”
That’s all I get.
Victor and Adrian are underground on an island thousands of miles away, surrounded by people who would kill them if they knew who they really were.
And somewhere inside that room, they may have just found an ally.
Or the man who’s going to expose them.
Blackstone Ventures HQ, San Francisco. 0150 hours.
The Council breaks again half an hour later, and I’ve stopped pretending I’m tired. Too much is happening beneath that hill.
Victor’s glasses follow Adrian toward the refreshments while several Council members drift into smaller groups. Westbrook is arguing quietly with Whitmore near the far end of the room. Evelyn Lockhart has taken herself as far away from both of them as the bunker allows.
Rimsky moves too.
I sit straighter. “Jan.”
“I see him.”
Dimitry steps closer behind us as Rimsky crosses behind two other members, stops briefly to exchange a few words with Beaumont, then changes direction as though he’s remembered something.
Victor’s view shifts toward a corridor.
Rimsky passes Adrian without looking at him.
“Two minutes.”
Adrian doesn’t react. Neither does Victor. They continue toward the corridor while Rimsky disappears around the corner.
Crew looks at me. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I think we’re about to find out.”
Seconds later, one of the bunker surveillance indicators on G’s security map goes dark.
Then another.
Jan leans toward the screen. “Steve.”
“Blind spot.”
Definitely not an accident.
Adrian turns into the corridor with Victor beside him.
Rimsky is waiting.
“You have ninety seconds now,” he says.
Adrian’s voice remains cool. “You appear remarkably certain I want them.”
“You do.”
Rimsky looks directly at Adrian.
“Tell your people Dimitry Blackwood will understand the name Lev Arsenyev. St. Nicholas. No flowers.”
Behind me, Dimitry goes completely still.
I turn. “You know it?”
“My father did.”
Rimsky continues. “That was the phrase used when Arsenyev wanted a private meeting. Nobody outside my father’s inner circle should know it.”
Dimitry’s expression hardens.
“That’s true.”
“Could Rimsky have learned it another way?”
“Possible. Not likely.”
“Could anyone?”
“No. Not unless they were inside that circle.”
That changes things.
Rimsky has just given us something we can verify without Adrian acknowledging there’s anyone listening.
He glances toward the end of the corridor.
“Your people have been looking at Legacy from the outside. That’s why they keep finding operations after they’ve already begun.”