Page 17 of A Touch of Treachery
Years ago, Jethro Percy had been the head of the cleaners in Washington, D.C., although these days, he traveled all over the world, moving from one Section 47 station to another, making sure everything ran smoothly in the spy organization and cutting off crises before they even arose.General Percy had a reputation for being smart, ruthless, and efficient when it came to problem-solving, which made me even more concerned about why he’d made this sudden, surprise appearance.
“What are you doing here?”Desmond asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.“Did you call the mission debriefing?”
“Of course I did,” the General replied in a deep baritone that wasn’t softened in the slightest by his faint Southern drawl.“In my experience, it’s always best to own up to one’s mistakes as soon as possible.”
A muscle twitched in Desmond’s jaw, and the two men continued their staring contest.The captive audience of cleaners and liaisons remained frozen in their seats, except for Joan, who shot Desmond a sympathetic look.The two bodyguards standing behind the General seemed bored, as though they’d seen this show a dozen times before.
I didn’t want Desmond to face his father alone, especially since the Vault mission had been my idea—and my failure.I slid my chair back, got to my feet, and stepped into the aisle so that I was standing shoulder to shoulder with Desmond.
General Percy’s gaze flicked over to me.His features were hard, stern, and utterly devoid of the easy, charming warmth his son exuded, and I felt like I was staring into the craggy face of an iceberg that was about to slam into and crush me.
“Charlotte Locke, I presume.”A loud note of disgust curled through General Percy’s voice.
No surprise there.Once upon a time, Jethro Percy had been a Section cleaner, an enduro with incredible stamina, just like my father, Jack Locke.The General was also a Legacy, and his father, Percival Percy, had been one of the founding members of Section 47, while my father’s mother, my grandma Jane, had also worked for the spy organization.
But that’s where the similarities ended.General Percy had deftly played all the political games and climbed up the ranks, but my father had eschewed such maneuvers and remained a cleaner for his entire career, right up to the day he died.
To say that Jethro Percy and Jack Locke didn’t get along would be like saying the surface of the sun was a tad toasty.The two men had actively, openly, thoroughlydespisedeach other, and my father had constantly complained about the General putting his own ambitions before the agents he was supposed to lead, support, and protect.
I didn’t know everything that had happened between the two men, but I’d always found it highly suspicious that General Percy had overseen my father’s last mission.The Mexico mission, as it was known in Section circles, was notorious for being a colossal fuckup.
Roughly fifteen years ago, Jack Locke had led a group of cleaners to Mexico to assassinate Feliciano Salvador, a cartel leader who was selling drugs that gave regular people paramortal powers.At least, until they started bleeding out of their eyeballs and dropped dead.Rumor had it that Salvador had hired a new biomagical scientist who was going to concoct even more dangerous drugs, hence the reason for the kill mission.My father had always been exceptionally devoted to his work, and he’d prepped for the mission for weeks, especially since he thought that Salvador was connected to the Syndicate.
The Syndicate was a shadowy, mysterious group of criminals, terrorists, and other rogue paramortals who occasionally worked together to pull jobs, trade secrets, and more.Most folks in the paramortal intelligence community thought the Syndicate was a myth, an urban legend run amok, but my father had firmly believed in its existence, and he’d been determined to figure out who belonged to the group.
My father and the other cleaners had easily infiltrated Salvador’s seaside compound.But after that ...well, no one seemed to know exactly what had happened.All the other cleaners had been killed, but my father had been captured, and Salvador had demanded three million dollars for his return.
Section 47 didn’t negotiate with anyone, so the higher-ups had refused to pay the ransom, but Grandma Jane had borrowed the money from Leon Chase, a family friend and another Section cleaner who was part of the support staff for the Mexico mission.
Leon had delivered the money, but General Percy had secretly sent another team of cleaners to the ransom exchange to eliminate Salvador.Once again, no one seemed to know exactly what had happened, just that Salvador had escaped, and my father had been killed.The three-million-dollar ransom had also vanished.The Section cleaners hadn’t recovered it, but Salvador hadn’t gotten it either.
That was the official story, but I was determined to uncover theunofficialstory—no matter how dark, dangerous, and ugly the truth might be.
I thought I’d put all the unanswered questions about my father’s death behind me, but that had changed a few months ago when Desmond and I had confronted Henrika Hyde at the Halstead Hotel.
Henrika had claimed it was an honor to meet the daughter of the infamous Jack Locke.She’d also said my father had gotten closer to taking her down than anyone else.And then she’d dropped the biggest bombshell of all.
And what would you know about Mexico?My own harsh voice floated through my mind, along with Henrika’s smug answer.Everything.
Henrika’s cryptic words had reopened all those old wounds.Ever since that night, I’d been reviewing everything related to the Mexico mission, but so far, I hadn’t come up with any new leads.Which was why I needed to track down Henrika and squeeze the answers out of her.
General Percy crossed his arms over his chest, and a faint outline flared around his body.At first, the light was a dull gray, but it quickly brightened to a nauseating pink and then morphed into that burning bloodred that signaled a serious threat.My synesthesia kicked into high gear, and a little voice muttered in the back of my mind.
Danger-danger-danger.
My breath caught in my throat, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from flinching.I didn’t normally get such a stark, vivid warning unless someone was about to shoot, stab, punch, or otherwise physically harm me, and the fact that I’d gotten such a strong vibe off General Percy right now ...well, nothing good could come from it.
Oh, Jethro Percy wouldn’t whip out a gun and shoot me in the bullpen.But grudges never died at Section 47, and I wouldn’t put it past the General to slyly undercut or even openly sabotage me ...or whatever he had done that had contributed to my father’s death.
Desmond shifted closer to me.I longed to grab his hand and feel his warm, strong fingers wrapping around my own, but I remained still.General Percy would see such a public display of affection as a weakness.
Percy looked at Desmond, then back at me.I didn’t think it was possible, but his face grew even colder, like frost sweeping across a windowpane.He didn’t like whatever conclusions he had drawn about his son and me.
“Debriefing.Conference room.Now.”General Percy arched a silvery eyebrow at me.“Unless you plan on wasting more of my time, along with Section resources?”
I bit my tongue to keep from sniping back and gave the General a blank look, as though his barbed words and snide tone had no impact on me.
His eyebrow arched a little higher at my silence.“I see you’re as stubborn and obstinate as your father, Ms.Locke.What a pity you’ve inherited his worst traits.”
