Chapter 15 Con #2
If she hadn’t forgiven me, my behavior would have been the worst mistake of my life. Not being with her was unfathomable. It didn’t matter that we’d known each other for only a short time; those few hours when she was gone had left me feeling like I was missing a vital piece of myself.
My secure mobile vibrated softly on the nightstand. I reached for it, not wanting to disturb her rest. The encrypted message was from Kestrel—direct and urgent.
Orlov relocated to facility near Inverness. Not Dunwich Bay, as suggested. Equipment transported via private cargo plane last night.
I frowned, reading the message twice. The certainty with which both Mr. Bennett and Dr. McLaren had identified Dunwich Bay now seemed curious. Either their intelligence was flawed, or something else was at play. My instinct leaned toward the latter.
Lex stirred beside me, her eyes opening slowly. For a moment, her expression was unguarded—soft, content—before awareness returned, and she smiled.
“You’re staring,” she said, her voice husky with sleep.
“I am.” I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “It’s a view I could get used to.”
She stretched, then noticed the mobile in my hand. “Work already?”
“I’m afraid so.” I showed her Kestrel’s message. “What do you make of this?”
She sat up, instantly alert as she read the text. “Inverness, not Dunwich Bay.” Her brow furrowed. “That’s interesting, given how certain Bennett and Dr. McLaren seemed.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“However, it was only one possible location,” she said, her mind clearly working through the implications. “The infrastructure requirements Evelyn described could apply to several facilities along the English coast. I don’t think it merits concern that they focused on one possibility.”
I agreed, though something about it still nagged at me. “How do you want to handle the next steps?”
She considered the question, and I realized how different this was from our previous interaction—my deliberate choice to ask rather than direct.
“We should verify Kestrel’s information independently before proceeding,” she decided. “Then coordinate with MI6 and Unit 23.”
“I was thinking of asking Bennett and McLaren to meet us here,” I said, “but perhaps we should take the helicopter to SIS headquarters and leave for Blackmoor directly from there.”
“That’s more efficient,” she agreed, then hesitated. “Though I’m reluctant to leave this luxurious penthouse so soon.”
I smiled, brushing my lips against hers. “We can stay as long as you’d like.”
She shook her head, suddenly serious. “As beautiful as this place is, I feel more comfortable at Blackmoor. It feels more like…”
“Home?” I offered when she trailed off.
“Yes,” she affirmed. “Which is strange, considering I’ve only been there a short time.”
“Not strange at all,” I assured her, pulling her close once more. “Blackmoor has that effect on people who belong there.”
The implication wasn’t lost on either of us.
Two hours later, we touched down on VX’s private helipad. Bennett and Dr. McLaren were waiting when we exited the lift on the sixth floor, both appearing unsurprised by our early arrival. We proceeded to a secure conference room where I shared Kestrel’s intelligence.
“Inverness?” Bennett studied the information, his expression unreadable. “It doesn’t make as much sense as Dunwich Bay; however, perhaps that’s the point.”
Dr. McLaren leaned forward. “I agree. It was too obvious.”
“We need to be vigilant in recognizing Labyrinth’s ploys of distraction,” said Lex. “And at the same time, figure out exactly where they’re headed.”
“Roger that,” Bennett said, pulling up satellite imagery of the area surrounding Inverness. “There’s an old military research facility ten kilometers outside the city limits.”
For the next hour, the four of us worked together, with Bennett contributing his extensive knowledge of Russian operations in Scotland. Despite my initial reservations about their earlier certainty regarding Dunwich Bay, their expertise was undeniable.
“The Inverness intel appears valid, based on what we’ve discovered,” Bennett concluded. “I recommend we focus our efforts there.”
“The question isn’t just what Orlov is building,” I said, “but who he’s building it for. Unless Viktor is Janus, which my gut is telling me he’s not, then he’s merely a cog in a much larger machine.”
“Agreed,” Dr. McLaren said. “We should deploy immediately.”
“I concur,” Lex said when she realized I was awaiting her response. Never again would I proceed without it.
“We can leave within the hour,” I said, pulling out my mobile to make arrangements with my pilot.
As Bennett coordinated with the MI6 team and I briefed my Unit 23 contacts, Lex and Dr. McLaren stepped aside for what appeared to be a private conversation. I couldn’t hear what they were discussing, but Lex’s expression was intensely focused, and her mentor’s was equally serious.
“We’ll travel on my plane,” I announced once the briefings were complete. “There’s room for the team, and it’s equipped with secure communications.”
As the others prepared to depart, I pulled Lex aside, our hands briefly tangling.
“Thank you,” I said simply.
“For what?” she asked.
“Your forgiveness. Your willingness to work with me despite everything.” I squeezed her hand gently. “I don’t take it for granted.”
Her smile warmed me from the inside. “I’m glad to hear it. Don’t make me regret it.”
“Never,” I promised.
We were making our final preparations to board when my mobile vibrated with an urgent message from Tag. I frowned at the screen.
Need to speak with you immediately. Regarding Nightingale. Critical.
“Everything all right?” Lex asked, noting my expression.
“I need to make a call. I’ll be just a moment.”
I stepped away, dialing Tag’s secure line. He answered immediately.
“She’s gone,” he blurted.
“What do you mean, gone?”
“Vanished,” Tag’s voice was tight and controlled, but I could hear the underlying tension. “Typhon doesn’t even know where she is.”
“When?”
“Sometime in the last twelve hours. He said that when he arrived for a check-in, the place was empty. He made contact with me to see if I’d heard from her.”
I processed this information, quickly considering the implications. “I’ll follow up with Kestrel,” I offered. I couldn’t think of any other person who might hear chatter about a missing Unit-23 operative.
“Appreciated.” Tag’s voice betrayed more emotion than I’d heard from him in years.
When I returned to Lex, she examined me with concern.
“Nightingale’s missing,” I said, keeping my tone low.
As I held her gaze, I thought about Tag’s voice—the raw edge conveying fear and loss—and recognized it as the exact emotion I’d felt not knowing where Lex was or if I’d get to her in time to protect her.
The realization only strengthened my resolve to never let that happen again.
“I sent a message to Kestrel,” I told her.
“Good thinking.”
“I’m worried about him,” I whispered.
“Rightly so.”
“Ready?” I asked, offering her my arm.
“Ready,” she confirmed, her hand sliding into the crook of my elbow.
Together, we boarded the plane that would take us north, back to Scotland, closer to answers, yet for the two of us, also closer to home and the life I hoped we’d build there when this was all over.
For Tag, though, I feared his search was just beginning. I only prayed it didn’t end with the discovery that whoever put the price on Nightingale’s head had found her.