Whiteout (Aurora Sky (19 page)

“Mr. Donado?” Pearlman asked.

I inclined my head in acknowledgement.

“I am Lieutenant Vince Pe
arlman.” He reached his hand out as he introduced himself.

We shook hands as Alfonso joined my side.

“I am Francesco and this is my cousin Alfonso,” I said.

Pearlman extended his hand to Alfonso.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Alfonso said i
n his most charming voice.

Pearlman straightened, perfectly poised. “I am sure you are eager to
see your friend
. I will take you to
Mr. Josslyn Taylor
.”

Right down to business.
That
was more like it. I appreciated Pearlman's style.

“I have also been
informed of the two missing agents seeking amnesty. I am here to make sure that happens. Please instruct your driver to follo
w me. I am driving the gra
y Jeep Cherokee.”

As Pearlman returned to his vehicle, Alfonso shot me a pleased smile. “This is going ve
ry well,
si
?”

“So far
,
so good,” I agreed. “But until I've gotten Joss and Aurora back, I'm saving the champagne and victory lap.”

Alfonso placed an arm on my shoulder as we
stepped up to his rental car.
“We must celebrate the moment we rescue them. A
gra
nde festa
with the family in Venice. I'll even let you fly the jet back. You still have your pilot's license,
si
?”

“
Si
,” I said, grinning at the thought of flying the Gulfstream across the country. “I've always wanted to fly something bigger than a Cessna 172.” Never mind that measuring the two was like comparing a
bumblebee to
an eagle.

“
Nessun problema
,” Alfonso said as
we got inside the car. “Once you've flown one plane
,
you can fly them all
.
Isn't
that correct, Benito?”

“Eh?” Benito replied, squinting at us in the rearview mirror.

Several spots down, Lieutenant Pearlman pulled out in his Jeep.

“Follow that car,” Alfons
o instructed Benito in Italian. Once we were
following the Jeep
out of the visitor parking lot, Alfonso picked up where he'd left off. “I promised my cousin he could fly the jet if he comes home after
we settle things here
. You don't mind, do you, Benito?”

“Not at all,” Benito replied in our mother tongue. “I would be happy to serve as
Signor
Francesco Donado's
copilot
.”

I leaned forward to look at Benito in the mirror. “A wise suggestion,” I noted. I sat back against the seat, watching the passing trees—a
mixture of mountain alder, western hemlock, and Alaska's state tree, the Sitka spruce.
The foliage was thick inside the base—as dense and integrate as camouflage.

“When we return to Italy
,
you must let me show you and your guests around. Maybe, if we're l
ucky, we'll make it back in time for Dolce and Gabbana's spring runway show.” Alfonso clapped the tips of his fingers together gleefully. “The winter show blew my mind.”

As much as I loved my cousin and missed seeing him, I had to tune him out. The
season'
s
latest fashion trends
were
the
furthest
thing from my mind. Each rotation of the tires brought me closer to Joss, closer to answers I desperately sought
—
namely
,
what was the agency doing to get Aurora back?

Alfonso, undeterred by my disinterest, spent th
e remainder of the—thankfully—short drive describing the winter lineup.

“The men wore bejeweled crowns with gloves and shoes that sparkled with such glitz, such splendor. It was like nothing I've ever seen before. I challenge Victoria's Secret to top that.
”

Just as I was beginning to rub my temples, the Jeep's blinker flashed. Benito followed it
to
a parking lot
leading up to
a windowless
one-story
building.

“So this is where the magic happens,” I muttered.

Alfonso shuddered. “Tell me this isn't where they'
ve been keeping Josslyn?”

I turned my head sharply. “He better be here.”

“The poor man,” Alfonso said, placing a hand on his chest as if to keep himself from fainting. “If the exterior is anything to go by, the conditions inside must be deplorable.”

Benito
followed the Jeep from roughly ten feet behind.
Pearlman pulled into a parking spot near the front of the building.
Benito sidled up to him
and turned off the ignition. We exited the vehicle and joined Pearlman.

Upon entering the building and
passing thro
ugh the
first security
checkpoint
, we followed the
lieutenant
down a long, shabby corridor. A
fluorescent
light flickered over one section of the hall. The place wasn't what I'd been expecting. I thought the facility would be high tech and modern. A little
more sci-fi futuristic. This looked like an underfunded mental ward from the sixties or the set of a horror movie… or both.

Alfonso pressed his arms to his sides, hands clasped against his chest, not taking any chances of brushing up against the dingy wal
ls.

Lieutenant Pearlman strode forward, a man oblivious to
his
surroundings—a man with a purpose. I matched his steps, equally determined. Alfonso fell back with Benito, the pair of them glancing side to side with obvious distaste.

We rounded a corner. Ahe
ad, the hall opened into a room with a long, low desk. A woman in camo sat on a rolling chair, perfect upright posture, speaking into a phone that looked like it should have been updated three decades ago.

There were doors along the walls of the room—most
closed—and the kind of woeful waiting chairs found in forlorn places like
the
DMV.

Pearlman walked up to the woman at the desk, looming over her as she finished her call.

“Lieutenant Pearlman here to see Agent Melcher,” Pearlman said in a no-nonsense
voice.

I was really liking Senator Davis' choice of envoy.

“He's been expecting you,” the woman responded. She lifted the phone and punched a button, speaking into the receiver a swift second later. “Lieutenant Pearlman and his guests are here.”

Guests
.
R
ight
. The cavalry had come to take this sad excuse for a fortress by storm.

The secretary set the phone down and stood up. She walked around the desk, dressed head to toe in uniform, from her
military cap to her
combat boots
.
I watched Alfonso's eyes slide
appraisingly up and down her, latching themselves onto something of far more interest than interior design.
Her
ensemble was in stark opposition to the bejeweled crowns and glittery shoes he'd described earlier.

No one noticed these things more than an It
alian, and no other
nationality
appreciated making a fashion statement more than we did. The French might like to think they were the fashion chieftains of the modern world, but we could take them in a walk
-
off any place, any time
.

At the moment, I had
much more serious matters to worry about.

The secretary approached one of the doors, opening it halfway. “You may go inside,” she said to Pearlman.

I stepped in front of the
lieutenant
, done with niceties, and
blasted
through the opening. My patience and m
anners flew right through the door with my blunt entrance. I didn't give a damn about protocol or pecking order. Melcher was on the other side of that door and I wanted the fire in my eyes to be the first thing he saw.

 

 

 11

Ancient Evil

 

Melcher, as though equally ready to go head to head, was already standing behind his desk, spine stiff, chin lifted. He wore a simple black suit. No name badge. No decorations. No tie. He had trim brown hair, neither thick nor thin. He was clean shaven and appeared to have stopped aging sometime in his early thirties. I assumed this was the one who called himself Melcher. Or maybe it was Jared. It could be someone altogether different, a spokesperson. The man known as Melcher might be too cowardly to face me, even on his own turf.

But my gut feeling told me this was Agent Melcher.
Gabriel.

He stared at me, unblinking. The shadows beneath his eyes looked like the kind that
took
more than
one
good night's rest to fix. Maybe this meeting had put fear into him. One co
uld hope.

I intended to s
tudy
the man with
all
the patience of an alligator at the watering hole—ready to strike at
any
hint of movement. I didn't plan to take my eyes away from my
quarry
, not when he was finally in sight… until I noticed Joss seated on a
chair in the far corner of the room.

“Joss?” I said, not quite trusting my eyes.

He wore the same shirt and trousers
as
he had on the night he was abducted. They looked clean
—
as though mere hours, rather than weeks
,
had gone by.
There was more color in his
cheeks than usual
,
and for a moment I wondered if the agency had forced him to drink blood.

A look of relief washed over Joss' face. He stood, arms opening as though to hug me, which would have been a first if he hadn't stopped a foot in front of me and l
et his arms drop.

“Francesco, thank
God
you're alive!”

My chest heaved in relief. A smile crept over my lips. “Shouldn't I be the one saying that?” I asked.

Joss' expression turned serious. “The redheaded she
-
devil told me she'd killed you.
”

My hands
tightened to fists.

“Agent Ward is undergoing rehabilitation,” Melcher interjected calmly.

Rehabilitation for psycho bitches
. T
his was the kind of decision
-
making that went on at the agency?

Pearlman's voice carried across the room. “From what I've heard,
this particular agent is beyond reform.”

Someone read my mind, though he said it nicer than I would have.

“That is for Agent Ward's instructors to decide,” Melcher said, moving his gaze from me to Pearlman.

Pearlman stepped forward, stopping a foot from Me
lcher's desk. “Actually, that decision, along with all agency operations and recruitment methods, now requires my approval. You should have already received the orders from Senator Davis' office.”

“Indeed,” Melcher said without flinching. “I have not yet h
ad an opportunity to look them over. There are matters of greater
importance that take
precedence.”

In other words
:
he screwed up royally and was trying to play clean up before anyone caught on.

“Why was Josslyn not returned to me immediately?” I demanded.

“We did not know what had become of you,” Melcher answered. Other than a quick blink and
parting
lips, Melcher's face made no additional movement.

I
strode up
to Melcher's desk until my legs touched the edge, spread both hands on the surface
,
and leaned t
oward him.

“I find it extremely hard to believe you didn't know I was in town when you've had eyes on me all along.”

“As I said, we've had matters of great importance and we were not certain what had become of you until the
senator
contacted us.” Melcher l
ooked past me. “May I inquire
as to
who these two gentlemen are?” he asked, pointing his nose at Alfonso and Benito.

I leaned
farther
across Melcher's desk, irked by his quick dismissal of my question. I wasn't one of his agents. He couldn't push me aside.
He wasn't running the show anymore
;
he just didn't know it yet.

Even as I loomed toward him, he kept his eyes at the back of
his
office.

Pearlman cleared his throat then spoke. “This is Mr. Alfonso Donado and his trusted employee, Mr. Lombardi.”

Melcher
pursed his lips. “I'm going to ask that they wait outside in the hall,” he said.

“My cousin isn't going anywhere,” I said through my teeth. They were gnashed together so tight I couldn't move them. The voice that came out would have scared a normal human,
but Melcher wasn't
either
.

“Francesco,” Alfonso said lightly. A gentle hand pressed against my shoulder. “
Non c'è problema
. We will be right outside the door.” He gave me a reassu
ring squeeze before backing up.

“I will wait in the hall with them,” Joss sai
d.

That was likely for the best. Joss didn't like violence
,
and I couldn't be sure I wouldn't cause bodily harm to Melcher before the meeting concluded.

I didn't watch
them
leave. I wasn't taking my eyes off Melcher again. But I did hear Alfonso's final co
mment, spoken with humorous inflection in Italian. The American equivalent was something to the effect of “
rip
that prick a new one.”

I smirked upon hearing the words, only removing my hands from Melcher's desk and straightening after I heard the door clos
e.

Melcher frowned. “I am disappointed that you have shared your status with your family and their employees, Mr. Donado. You must realize it puts them at risk.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Are you threatening my family?”

When Melcher made no answer
, Pearlman jumped in to say, “No.”

“Good,” I said to Melcher as though he'd been the one to answer. “Because I would tear the House of Meltechener limb by limb until nothing remained of the family tree if so much as a shoe got scuffed on any of my relative
s or their employees.”

Melcher's lips twitched. “I see I am not the only one who has done his research.”

“You are lucky Joss was unharmed.”

“He has always been free to roam,” Melcher answered evenly.

My teeth ground together and I nearly lost my cool.
Free to roam? Like some kind of zoo animal
?
They
may
not have tossed Joss in a cell, but that hadn't made him any less caged in.

Pearlman coughed. “The important thing is no one got hurt,” he said.

“That's not true,” I said, my voice dropping. “Aurora got
hurt.” My eyes bore into Melcher's. “Where is the one you call Jared? I would like very much to speak to him.”
And by speak I meant beat to a bloody pulp.

“He is not presently on base,” Melcher said.

How convenient for him.
I cracked my knuckles to keep fr
om sma
shing them into his desk or
face.

“You allow this maniac to come and go as he pleases
;
meanwhile
,
you hold
undead citizens against their will.”

The man didn't even flinch.

“Citizens,” he repeated coldly. “Is that what you call yourselves?”

“What else
would we be?”

“Hostiles. Killers. Terrorists.”

I raised a brow. This man was a bona
fide nut job—one with military backing. Wouldn't be the first time in history that a fanatic had his own armed forces.

“There's only one killer in this room
,
and it isn't
me,” I said, curious if I could bait him. But like a true psycho, he appeared limited in his range of emotions, almost robotic.

Pearlman coughed louder than the last time. “I believe we're getting off track,” he said. “Right now we have two missing assets
who need recovery.”

I'd liked Pearlman right up until the moment he referred to Aurora as an “asset.” The man was probably just trying to communicate with Melcher in a way the man understood, but it still made my
stomach coil like a snake ready
to strike.

Melcher's gaze shifted to Pearlman. “
Aurora
and Dante,” he acknowledged.

Now we were getting somewhere. Hearing Aurora's name gave me a moment's relief, as though speaking it aloud would bring her back
more quickly
. On the other hand, listening to it
combined with Dante's brought the vipers back to life inside the pit of my stomach.

“I've had all my in-state agents and informants keeping an eye out for them. Unfortunately, our team members are not the only ones tracking them down.”