16. Every Day For More Than Ten Years
Every Day For More Than Ten Years
Steve
Jax’s feed fills the main screen.
The camera on his phone gives us a narrow view of a service corridor inside the Vegas tower. Matthias stands beside him in a dark jacket, tense enough that I can see it from San Francisco.
Bliss can too. She’s beside Jan at the conference table, staring at the screen.
“Fifteen minutes,” Jax says quietly. “She goes on at seven. Performance runs forty-five minutes.”
I check the security layout G has pulled up beside the feed.
“And afterward?”
“Two guards take her back through this corridor to the lounge behind the dressing rooms. That’s our window.”
G points at his screen. “I can loop the corridor cameras for ninety seconds without drawing attention. Any longer and someone might notice.”
“Ninety’s plenty,” Jax says.
I lean toward the comms. “You’re not starting anything until she’s finished performing.”
“Understood.”
Matthias hasn’t said a word.
Jan notices too.
“Matthias?”
His eyes shift toward the phone.
“I’m here.”
He checks the small camera pin fastened to his lapel. G bought a whole box of them after deciding HAVEN needed something less obvious than camera glasses for future operations.
His feed fills one of the smaller screens.
“Picture’s clear,” G says. “Audio too.”
“You remember what we agreed?” Jan asks.
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
His jaw tightens.
“Jax deals with security. I stay back until he clears me to approach her.”
“And if she panics?”
“I stop.”
“If she doesn’t recognize you?”
He hesitates.
Bliss moves closer to the screen.
“You let her decide what happens next.”
Matthias looks directly at her.
“I know.”
“I know you do.” Her voice softens. “But knowing it here and doing it when she’s standing in front of you after ten years are different things.”
He gives a small nod.
Jax glances sideways at him. “I’ve got him.”
“I know you do,” Bliss says.
Hope and Forest aren’t here. They’re still out somewhere enjoying the afternoon, and I’m glad of it. Hope’s had enough of that tower.
This one belongs to Matthias.
G brings another feed onto the screen.
The lounge.
People are taking their seats around small tables facing the stage while staff move between them carrying drinks.
Then a woman walks out.
Matthias goes completely still.
Even through a security camera, the resemblance is unmistakable. She’s older than the sister he remembers, of course. Ten and a half years older.
“Thandiwe,” he whispers.
Bliss closes her eyes briefly.
Onstage, Thandiwe takes her place behind the microphone. To everyone in that lounge, she’s Sandie Cross, a performer about to start another nightly set.
To the man watching from a service corridor, she’s the little sister he’s spent more than a decade searching for.
Music begins. Thandiwe sings.
Her voice is beautiful, rich and powerful, the kind that reminds me of Shirley Bassey. Every note is precise, every movement practiced, every word delivered perfectly.
But there’s something missing behind it.
Bliss watches for less than a minute before she says quietly, “I remember that.”
Jan looks at her.
“The routines,” Bliss says. “You can do things perfectly because they’ve trained them into you. Doesn’t mean you know why you’re doing them.”
Matthias hears her. His face changes.
“Stay with the plan,” I tell him.
“I will.”
And now all we can do is wait.
Las Vegas, Nevada. 1943 hours.
Forty-three minutes into Thandiwe’s set, Jax and Matthias are near the back of the lounge.
Matthias hasn’t taken his eyes off his sister.
I can’t begin to imagine what it costs him to stand there and watch her without crossing the room.
Jax stays beside him, keeping one eye on Thandiwe and the other on security.
At HQ, nobody says much.
Bliss stands beside Jan, both hands pressed against the edge of the conference table. She hasn’t taken her eyes off Matthias since he entered the lounge.
Onstage, Thandiwe moves into what should be one of her final songs, smiling when she’s supposed to, acknowledging the applause with the same polished ease Bliss recognized earlier.
Jax shifts beside Matthias.
“When she finishes, we move backstage.”
Matthias nods.
Thandiwe turns slightly as she sings, her gaze moving across the room. It reaches the back of the lounge.
Reaches Matthias.
Her voice stops in the middle of the lyric.
The music keeps playing.
Matthias goes still.
Thandiwe stares at him.
Her microphone lowers slowly.
“Matthias?”
His name carries through the lounge.
Bliss makes a broken sound beside Jan.
Matthias’s face crumples.
Thandiwe looks almost frightened by the word that just came out of her mouth.
Then she says it again.
“Matthias.”
She steps down from the stage.
The guard nearest her moves immediately.
“Where are you going, Sandie?”
She ignores him. Her eyes never leave Matthias.
Jax changes direction and puts himself between the guard and Thandiwe.
The guard reaches for her arm.
Jax catches his wrist.
“Don’t.”
The man looks at him. “Who the hell are you?”
His other hand goes inside his jacket.
Bad move.
Jax drives him sideways into the edge of a table before he gets the weapon out.
People shout.
Chairs scrape across the floor.
The two guards near the entrance start toward them.
“Jax, two coming from your right,” I warn.
“I see them.”
Thandiwe keeps walking.
One of the approaching guards tries to get around Jax.
Jax meets him and drops him with one strike. The second grabs the back of his jacket, but Jax twists free and sends him crashing across a table.
Matthias hasn’t taken his eyes off his sister.
She walks toward him slowly at first.
Then faster.
Matthias starts forward.
“Easy,” Bliss says through the comms.
He hears her.
Stops.
Waits.
Thandiwe closes the remaining distance herself.
Her hands clutch the front of his jacket.
Matthias wraps his arms around her.
She starts crying.
Her whole body shakes with it, and Matthias holds her while tears stream down his face.
“I’ve got you,” he says. “Thandiwe, I’ve got you.”
She pulls back enough to look at him.
“I don’t know why I know you.”
Matthias cups her face.
“I’m your brother.”
Her lips tremble.
“My brother?”
“Yes.”
She searches his face.
Behind them, Jax hauls one of the guards upright and shoves him away.
“We need to move.”
Matthias looks at his sister.
“Thandiwe, these people have been hurting you. I can take you somewhere safe, but I won’t make you come with me.”
She looks toward the men Jax has put down.
Then back at Matthias.
“You came for me?”
His face breaks all over again.
“Every day for ten and a half years.”
Jesus Christ.
Jan wipes beneath one eye.
I clear my throat and look away for a second.
There isn’t a dry eye in the room.
Bliss doesn’t bother hiding her tears.
Thandiwe looks down at Matthias’s hand. Then she takes it.
“I want to go with you.”
Jax retrieves her coat from beside the stage and holds it out.
“Then we’re leaving.”
Thandiwe takes it.
Jax moves ahead, clearing their route toward the service corridor while Matthias keeps his sister’s hand firmly in his.
G starts calling their path.
I glance at Jan.
Her eyes are wet.
Mine probably aren’t much better.
Ten and a half years after Thandiwe Cross disappeared, her brother is finally taking her home.
Las Vegas, Nevada. 1955 hours.
“Service corridor clear,” G says. “Keep moving.”
Jax leads. Matthias follows with Thandiwe beside him, her hand wrapped around his.
She hasn’t let go.
The view from Matthias’s camera pin shifts with every step.
“Elevator’s clean,” G says. “Down two levels. Vehicle is where you left it.”
Jax hits the call button.
Thandiwe looks at Matthias.
“You’re really my brother?”
“Yes.”
“Older?”
A laugh catches in his voice. “Three years.”
She studies him.
“I don’t remember.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
Matthias shakes his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
The elevator arrives. Jax checks inside.
“Come on.”
Thandiwe hesitates, then steps in with Matthias. Jax follows.
“Straight to the Learjet,” I say. “We get her out of Vegas tonight.”
The doors open onto the parking level.
“Clear,” G says.
They move.
Halfway to the SUV, G straightens.
“Two men entering from the north stairwell.”
“Jax, company. North side. Two.”
“I see them.”
Jax immediately puts himself between Thandiwe and the approaching men.
“Stay with Matthias.”
One reaches inside his jacket.
“Weapon,” G warns.
Jax closes the distance before he gets it clear, driving him backward into a parked car.
The second goes straight for Matthias.
Matthias pushes Thandiwe behind him, catches the man’s wrist and sends him hard onto the concrete.
Well done, Doc.
Jax looks over.
“Been holding out on me?”
“HAVEN self-defense classes.”
“They’re paying off.”
“Vehicle,” I remind them.
They run.
Jax gets Thandiwe and Matthias into the SUV, then slides behind the wheel.
“G?”
“Exit clear. Go.”
The SUV climbs the ramp and hits the street.
“Right, then immediate left.”
Jax accelerates.
One block. Two. Three.
Nothing follows.
G watches the tower feeds.
“They’re too late.”
Jan releases a long breath beside me.
“Jax, status?”
“Clear.”
“Take them home.”
Matthias shifts in the back seat and pulls out his phone.
“I’m calling Bliss.”
A few seconds later, her face appears on the screen.
“Matthias?”
“I’m here.”
“How is she?”
He angles the phone toward Thandiwe beside him.
Thandiwe looks at the screen.
“I’m confused.”
Bliss smiles through her tears.
“That’s okay.”
Thandiwe studies her face.
“Who are you?”
“My name’s Bliss.”
“How do you know Matthias?”
“He helped me when Meridian did something similar to me.”
Thandiwe goes quiet.
“Did you get better?”
The room falls silent.
Bliss swallows.
“Yes.”
“How long did it take?”
“A while. It’s different for everyone.”
“Did Matthias help?”
Bliss’s smile trembles.
“Every step of the way.”
Thandiwe turns toward him.
“Will you help me?”
Matthias closes his other hand over hers.
“For as long as you need me.”
She leans against him. His arm goes around her.
Jax’s voice comes from the front.
“Twelve minutes to the airfield.”
I key the comms.
“Nice work, Jax.”
“Thanks, Steve.”
“And Matthias?”
“Yeah?”
“You found her.”
Jan leans closer. “We’re so happy for both of you.”
He looks down at his sister.
“I did. Finally.”
More than a decade of searching ended tonight.
Matthias looks at her. “Everyone’s going to Ecstasy’s Table, a restaurant, when we get back. You don’t have to come. We can go somewhere quiet instead. What do you want to do?”
Thandiwe considers it.
“I want to go with you for dinner.”
His expression softens. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
Now they get to figure out what comes next.
Blackstone Ventures HQ, San Francisco. 2010 hours.
G looks up from his screen.
“They’re at the airfield.”
The room goes quiet again.
Jax’s message comes through less than a minute later.
Boarding now.
Jan slips her hand into mine, a beautiful smile stretching across her face.
Bliss stands on her other side, staring at the screen like she can make the Learjet take off through sheer determination.
“Come on,” she whispers.
G keeps tracking.
“They’re moving.”
Nobody speaks. The marker accelerates, then lifts away from Las Vegas.
G watches it climb.
“Wheels up.”
The room erupts.
Bliss bursts into tears again and Jan pulls her into a hug.
Serenity lets out a whoop from across the room and heads for the kitchen. She comes back carrying a big bottle of champagne nestled in an ice bucket.
I stare at her.
“You had that ready?”
“I had faith.”
“Here I am,” Faith calls from across the room.
“In what?” I ask.
“Victory!” she calls, and everyone cheers.
I grin. “And ice?”
“Obviously.”
Serenity starts working on the stopper.
Felicity laughs. “Maybe point that away from the screens.”
“Excellent suggestion,” I say.
The stopper fires across the room. Everyone cheers again.
G suddenly pushes away from his desk.
Then the little bugger starts dancing.
Then the little bugger starts properly dancing.
He spins, throws in some footwork I wouldn’t have thought physically possible in the space between two desks, then finishes with a move that has Felicity doubled over laughing.
I stare at him.
“Where the bloody hell did that come from?”
G points at me. “Bra, you thought I didn’t have the moves?”
“I had serious doubts.”
He slides sideways, does something with his shoulders, then points both hands at Felicity.
She applauds.
“Show-off.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
Serenity starts pouring champagne.
Jan accepts a glass, looks at it, then hands it straight to me.
“Right.”
She gives me a look. “You know perfectly well I can’t drink it.”
I take hers.
“More for me.”
“Keep dreaming.”
Serenity passes Jan a sparkling water instead.
Bliss’s phone rings.
She looks at the screen.
“Matthias.”
Everyone quiets.
She answers immediately.
“Hey.”
We only hear her side. Her eyes close. Then she smiles.
“They’re airborne,” she tells us. “Thandiwe’s beside him. She’s safe.”
Another cheer goes around the room.
Bliss listens.
“Yes. I’ll be there.”
Her voice catches.
“Both of you. I’ll be there for both of you.”
She ends the call and wipes her face.
Jan raises her sparkling water.
“To Thandiwe. And to sisters.”
Glasses rise around the room.
“To Thandiwe.”
I look at the people around me and take a sip.
“You know what? Listening to that pissant Westbrook tear strips off poor Gerald today over everything we’ve cost them didn’t make me feel ashamed. It made me bloody proud.”
Smiles spread around the room.
“Those bastards have spent years thinking they own the world. That they can buy people, destroy lives, bury the truth and never answer for any of it.”
I lift my glass slightly.
“But we’ve made a difference. Every person we’ve pulled out. Every operation we’ve wrecked. Every dollar we’ve cost them. Every piece of their bloody empire we’ve chipped away at.”
I glance at Jan beside me. Her hand settles over her still-flat stomach, and something about the gesture gets me.
“And we’re building something better while we do it. A better world for the generations coming after us. One where people like Westbrook don’t get to decide the rules just because they’ve got the money and power to think they can.”
Jan looks up at me, her smile softening. I turn back to the others.
“Today, we got to sit there and listen while they counted the damage themselves.”
That earns a cheer.
I grin.
“So here’s to HAVEN. To every person who keeps showing up, keeps fighting and keeps reminding those pricks they’re not untouchable.”
Glasses rise again.
“To HAVEN.”
I drain the rest of my champagne and set the glass down.
“All right, people. Enough staring at screens. Let’s go and really celebrate.”
Jan gives me a knowing look.
I grin wider.
“Dinner at Ecstasy’s Table.”