No Woman Left Behind (11 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

Slash paced in the confines of the small space adjoining the conference room. “You can’t be seriously considering this.”

“I have to evaluate every option.”

“It’s not an option. It’s suicide.”

I twirled my finger around my ponytail. Anxiety was causing my stomach to twist painfully. Because of Woodward’s stupid decision, we’d wasted another hour of precious time catching Slash up. Slash got angrier with every word Woodward spoke. By the time Woodward finished, Slash was barely containing his fury. I’d asked to speak with him alone, so Woodward had led us to a small room.

Slash’s jaw was clenched so tightly, I worried it might crack.

I didn’t want to do it, but there was no sense in wasting more time. My throat seized up so badly, I had to choke out the words.

“I’m going to go, Slash.”

He recoiled. “What?”

“I’m going to go. I’ve analyzed it six ways to Sunday and while it’s risky, it’s our best chance of saving him.”

His expression indicated a mixture of ferocity and disbelief. “That’s Woodward talking. It is
not
our best chance of saving him. You can still save him right here from the safety of Washington. There are a number of vital functions you can do from here.”

“Such as?”

“Such as engaging Broodryk remotely. We have ways to make him believe you are where he wants you to be without you having to be physically present. You know that.”

“Yes, I know that. But Broodryk would know it, too. He’s a true wizard, not a kid or a novice. He wants me to engage personally, and he’ll plan for that contingency.”

“He won’t find out. I’ll construct an impenetrable cover.”

I lifted my hands. “I can’t tell you how desperately I want to believe that. But Broodryk will expect that. He’ll be looking hard, probing for deception. You’re good, Slash, maybe the best in the world, and I’d help you. But we don’t have the time to create the kind of cover we’d need to stop someone like Broodryk. Besides, you have to focus on Pruxrat. You can’t split your time and be everything to everyone at once.”

“I’d figure it out.”

“I believe you would try. I sincerely do. But if Broodryk finds a weakness in that cover, he’d kill Elvis on the spot. I can’t risk it. There would be no second chances or do-overs. Broodryk hasn’t gone to all this trouble so I can engage him remotely. My attempts to deceive him in that way would enrage him. I promise you, he’ll have ways to ensure and verify my physical presence. Elvis’s death would be worse than I could possibly imagine if I don’t show up in Africa.”

“You can’t possibly go. You can’t forfeit your life like this. If you go, that’s what you’ll be doing.”

“It’s not like I’m going into this alone. They’re going to have the Navy SEALs accompany me.”

“It won’t be enough. It’s still suicide. You won’t come back. None of you will. That’s Broodryk’s end game. Listen carefully to me,
cara
. You’re so upset, you’re thinking with your emotions instead of your intellect.”

So was he, but I didn’t want to argue that with him, too.

“You’re right, Slash. Emotions are factoring strongly in my decision. I know it’s not like me, but I’m well aware there are serious risks. Woodward’s an idiot, but he’s got a plan.”

“He’s manipulating you. He doesn’t give a damn about you.”

“I know he’s using me. He’s doing his job. But he’s correct that it’s the best chance we have of finding Broodryk
and
saving Elvis. We
have
to play Broodryk’s game.”

“Then play it from here. I can multi-task. I swear.”

I reached out, touched his cheek. “No, you can’t. You’re already exhausted, and you need to focus on Pruxrat. It’s vital. Please. You do your part and I’ll do mine to save Elvis.”

His jaw hardened beneath my fingertips. “I didn’t want to say this to you,
cara
, but it’s time to put the truth on the table. Elvis is already as good as dead. No matter what he says, Broodryk is never going to let him go”

I stepped back, dropping my hand. The bluntness of his words hurt even though I knew he said them out of concern for me.

“I know, Slash. I’ve always known. But it doesn’t mean we can’t do everything in our power to save him.” My voice shook. “I’m not giving up.”

“I’m not giving up either, but I’d rather risk Broodryk exploiting my cover for you while you’re here safely within arm’s reach and not in Africa.”

“I agree that would be safer for me, but it puts not only Elvis at risk, but billions of other people who might suffer as a result of Pruxrat.”

“I’ve got Pruxrat covered.”

“Not if you’ve got me and my impenetrable cover to worry about. Think rationally. We’ve got to come at Broodryk from both sides. I have to go.”

He leaned forward, bracing his hands against the table. “Have you thought what Elvis would want? He wouldn’t be on board with this plan either. You heard him. He told you not to come. He suffered that beating to tell you that himself. Don’t make his suffering meaningless.”

The anguish in his eyes cut at me, but I held my ground. “Playing the guilt card on me won’t work. I heard what Elvis said. But this isn’t just about you and me and Elvis anymore. It’s bigger than that. This is our best chance to stop Broodryk for good, not just put a bandage on the problem. We both know he won’t stop unless we get him. We’ve never been this close to him before and we may never get the opportunity again. We can’t waste this opportunity.”

“Please,
cara
, let the SEALs do their job in Africa. Stay here and work with me.”

I pressed my hand to my forehead. Pain throbbed behind my eyes. “I wish I could, I really do. I understand the dangers, Slash, but I have to make the decision I think is right in the long run. I’m going to stop Broodryk...or die trying.”

He swore, throwing up his hands. “
Mio dio!
Listen to me. You
will
die. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’ll be safe because of a few men with specialized training. No one can keep you safe. Not even me. Not if you go there. I can’t be there with you.”

I blinked back the tears. “I know. You’re too valuable. I’m expendable and so is Elvis. But we’ll risk it if it means we can get Broodryk.”

He grabbed my arm. “You’re not expendable to me. Don’t ever say that.” His voice was rough with emotion. “Never.”

“Please, Slash, I can’t do this without you.”

He slammed a forearm against the wall in frustration. “No. I won’t be a willing party to your death.”

“Then help keep me alive.”

“You can’t ask me to do this...help plan your suicide.”

I swiped at the wetness on my eyelashes. “If it were me tied to that chair, you’d come.”

“
Si
, I would. Because I could. I’m fully trained for this kind of operation. You’re not. You have no idea of the things that could happen...
will
happen. This is war. It’s brutal, vicious and ugly. Even if you survived, things like this change you. Permanently. I know, trust me. I’m speaking from experience.”

I looked at him steadily. “You think I’m naive, but I understand what you’re saying. I really do. Consider this, though. If I don’t go, if I let Elvis die, then what? Who will Broodryk come after next? You? My parents? Basia? You want me to live with that? Because I’ve thought of that and I couldn’t do it. If I lost Elvis and then you,
that
would change me permanently. We’re both smart enough to know Broodryk can keep his promises to hurt my friends and family. It will
never
end until he sends someone to shoot me who won’t miss. By that time, I’d probably welcome it.”

He closed his eyes and said nothing.

“Slash, please. Have faith in me. I can do this. I
will
do this.”

His fists clenched at his side. “Then you do it alone. I won’t help you throw your life away. I can’t.”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. My world shattered into tiny pieces.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I...understand.”

But I didn’t really. I hadn’t created this set of lousy choices, but still I had to choose. I needed him to support me, even though I was risking my life. I wasn’t on top of this relationship stuff yet, but he’d promised we were a team and I wasn’t alone. Now...now he was leaving me.

He turned away, as if he could no longer look at me.

I choked out the words. “I have to do this. I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

Without another word, he strode past me and slammed the door.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I was barely able to function, but since the decision to proceed with the operation had been made, it was now a matter of logistics. I’d been told to get my affairs in order, so I filled out a bunch of paperwork and had a strained telephone conversation with Finn. Two CIA agents had visited him earlier in the day and told him I’d been co-opted in a matter of national security. I could tell he wanted to ask me a lot of questions, but he knew better. I couldn’t tell him anything except I would take the time off as vacation, and I fully intended to return to my job if he’d still have me. He’d sounded worried, but told me to take all the time I needed and my job would definitely be waiting.

Finally, I made a long overdue phone call to Basia and updated her as much as I could about Xavier and Elvis. I must have sounded pretty awful, because she stopped me mid-sentence.

“Lexi, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” My voice wavered and I fought back the emotion. “No, Basia, I’m not fine. I’m a mess. I’m beyond worried about Elvis, and Slash and I had an awful fight. It wasn’t about leaving the toilet seat up either. He’s totally not talking to me. In fact, he might never speak to me again.”

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. Emotions are running high right now. He’ll come around.”

“I don’t know that he will. He’s really angry.”

“He’s running scared. We all are. We’re coping the best we can in our own ways. Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No. It won’t help. There’s nothing you can do.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I was pretty darn sure that even Basia couldn’t persuade Slash to feel okay about what I had to do.

“There has to be some way I can help.”

“Well, there might be something. Do you have any idea how to contact Xavier’s parents? I’ve never heard either Elvis or Xavier talk about them. Someone needs to tell them what’s happened.”

“Um... I don’t know. Xavier never mentioned them.”

“It’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”

“Look, if you need to go to their house, Xavier told me they have a spare key in the backyard in the third stacked brick by the back steps. It’s not a real brick, but a fake one. It will only open the side door. Hold on a sec and let me check the notepad on my phone. Ah, here it is. The alarm code for the house is #314159.”

I smiled. “Pi.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Thanks, Basia. I’ll let you know what I discover.”

“Hang in there. Love you. I really do.”

This might be the last time I ever spoke to her. “Basia? I...want to tell you something. The first day we met and you walked into our dorm room dressed in pink and pulling monogrammed luggage, I thought we’d hate each other. But you turned out to be my first real friend. I’m not sure I can adequately explain how important your friendship has been to me.”

“Oh, sweetie. I know and I feel the same way.”

I clicked the off button and then stared at the phone for a long moment. Putting it aside, I opened my laptop and did a quick search online for the Zimmermans’ parents. I came up completely empty-handed. Guess it would require a visit to their house after all.

I found my security detail—two FBI agents—and told them where I needed to go. They were nice, but I was beginning to have a firsthand understanding of what it felt to be Slash. Being shadowed every moment of every day was beginning to feel seriously creepy.

The guys drove me to the twins’ house and were happy enough to wait in the car after I’d retrieved the key, turned off the alarm and they’d cleared both the perimeter and the house. When they were done and had gone outside, I headed for Computer Central, aka the living room, which they had converted into a huge workstation.

The room remained freezing cold, even in their absence, in an effort to protect their equipment. I grabbed the blue blanket they kept for me and wrapped it around my shoulders.

I stood in the middle of the room looking between Xavier’s and Elvis’s desks. Xavier’s desk was messy with papers, note pads, cables and thumb drives scattered around. Elvis’s was like mine—everything in its place, perfectly organized with a maximum degree of functionality.

Sighing, I sat down in Elvis’s chair and put my hands on his desktop, imagining him sitting here. It was such a familiar memory that I almost expected him to walk into the room and smile at me like he always did.

Reminding myself I’d come here for a purpose, I overcame my reluctance to go through Elvis’s private things and got to work. I didn’t fool myself into thinking I could penetrate their electronic network, so I’d have to do this the old-fashioned way. I pulled open the first drawer and started going through it.

It held mostly pens, pencils, mechanical drawing items and flash drives. On the right side of the drawer was a photograph. I picked it up. It was a picture taken of Elvis and me in Ocean City, Maryland, the place I had first met the twins. Basia or Xavier must have taken the photo, which I’d never seen before. Elvis and I stood on the Boardwalk with our backs to the sea. We were smiling and Elvis had his arm slung around me. Even though the photo wasn’t quite a year old, we seemed so young and happy. I touched his cheek with my fingertip and then put the photo back where I’d found it. The second drawer held paper and a few small notepads. The third drawer was filled with files. I thumbed through them, feeling uncomfortable looking through his personal documents, but reminding myself it was necessary.

I figured he kept all his addresses electronically, but I hoped to find, at the very least, a mention of one of his parent’s name on a document that could get me started in a more efficient online search. I opened a file labeled Garden Springs Resort and pulled out a colorful brochure with a colonial building and lots of pretty landscaping.

I scanned the brochure and realized it was an assisted living facility. I set the brochure aside and picked up the next document—a signed application for an Ottilie Zimmerman to be admitted to the facility. It was dated five years prior. My calculations put her at sixty-nine years old, and we shared the same birthday. I read the rest of the contract, but no medical information was provided. There was also no mention of a husband, and further investigation into the file didn’t produce any more leads or information on him.

I put the file back and sat back in the chair. After a moment, I got my cell out and dialed the number from the brochure.

“Hello. Garden Springs Resort. We offer the best in assisted living. May I help you?”

I cleared my throat. “Ah, yes. I’m calling about Ottilie Zimmerman. I’m a friend of her two sons, Elvis and Xavier.”

“Oh, how nice. They are the two sweetest, most polite boys you’ll ever meet. Their momma sure raised them right. Did you call to check up on her for them?”

“Ah...yes. How is she?”

“She’s doing just fine.”

I wanted to ask about her medical condition but knew the staff wouldn’t be permitted to talk about it. “They’re abroad right now.”

“Yes, in Greece, I hear. Lucky ducks. I bet they’re having the time of their lives. It’s nice of you to check up on her for them.”

“Ah, no problem. Say, do you think she’d be up for a visitor?”

“Why, she’d be delighted. She doesn’t get many visitors. It would have to be supervised, of course, since only the boys are on the approved visitor list, but I think we can arrange something. And you are...?”

“Lexi Carmichael.”

“I’m Marilyn Para, the Day Administrator at Garden Springs. When would you like to come?”

“Would now be okay?”

“Sure. How long will it take you to get here?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Great. I’ll be waiting.”