Page 129 of Agency
“They trust you.”
“They’re what’s best for you.”
“They feel the same way you do.”
“When it comes time, they’ll understand that you’re making the right choice.”
But would they? Would Jericho really understand?
Fishing for the key fob in my pocket as I came to a stop next to the SUV, my fingers brushed the virus-laden USB Aunt Val had given me back in Billings. The burner phone she’d slipped me in North Dakota, for emergency contact only, was snug in my back pocket.
She’d given me something else, too, before disappearing down that dry and dusty North Dakota road. Advice: get to Management as fast as possible, and make sure I took the guys with me to ensure I had protection. And to hold onto them as best I could, because even her frigid heart could see how much they cared for me.
But also… God, her “final directive” she’d given had really brought home the fact that she’d been as much my handler as my aunt for most of my adult life.
“Look at me,” she’d said in a low voice that had more than enough steel to draw my eyes back to hers. “Now, think. Consider just for a minute, Ambyr. Do you think we were only working for private individuals? Every government needs people like us. They need the people who work in the shadows, who aren’t subject to Congressional oversight and review. No government will ever keep a man like Management locked away. He’s simply too useful to them. That’s how creatures like him stay alive in this world: by being useful when they need to be, and too valuable to cut loose when that usefulness is finished.”
I’d nodded at the time, the tears streaking down my face. Not tears at the coldblooded nature of the request. No, I’d killed far more people who were far less dangerous, and for far less important reasons. But tears at the knowledge that she was right, and that I’d have to break the promise I’d made to Jericho back in Missouri right after my surgery.
“We do this the right way, if possible.” That’s what he’d said. And I’d given him my word. No revenge trips.
But Aunt Val had been right. I’d read her files on Management on the way here. He’d been connected for decades. There was no way he was operating on his own without any help or support from governmental covert organizations.
Then… Then there were the other reasons I needed to do this alone.
I figured I could make my way down to the docks without anyone noticing. Once there, I could steal a boat and motor over to the Northwest Angle. Sure, the boat wouldn’t be as fast as the floatplane we’d originally planned on, and my exit would be dicier. But I could navigate over water even more easily than I could over land. All I’d need to do the job was Jericho’s carbine, the 9mm he’d given me, and the USB drive in my pocket. With a little luck, the operation would be easy enough to execute.
I looked in through the rear driver’s side window and again tried to swallow the guilty pill lodged in my dry throat. My eyes focused on the reflection of a woman I hardly recognized, though, and not the leather seats within.
Oh, she looked enough like me. Same red hair, same blue eyes, same nose, same chin with the memorable scar.
But the woman who’d last looked back at me from a mirror while on a mission had seemed more familiar, even with her blonde wig and fake green eyes. Because right now, outside that cabin, I looked so completely unlike when I’d been Yvette, back in Smolesnky’s St. Louis suite bathroom.
I’d been confident, then–decisive and so sure of myself, with zero hesitancy.
How could this be the same woman less than a week later? How could this woman in the window’s tinted reflection be me? Because instead of that confidence and decisiveness, I saw a shaken, scared, worried look about whether I was making the right choice.
Goddammit, why had I given Jericho my word? Why had I dragged the three of them into this?
Yes, I knew trying to go alone after Management was stupid. Idiotic, even. Sure, thanks to my aunt, we had more information on the spymaster now than ever before. But, we couldn’t see the enemy’s movements. We were flying blind in every sense of the word, especially given the fact that Management had to be prepared for our coming after him. He could have called in every single agent he had after what had happened back in Billings, or he could have every single one out tracking us down.
Idiotic, or not, wasn’t that all the more reason for me to go this alone? How could I ask Andrew, Morgan, and Jericho to put themselves in anymore harm’s way for me, when there might be a small army waiting on the Angle for us? This was all my fault, not theirs. I’d been trained for this, same as they had. And I’d handled how many missions on my own? I could handle this on my own, too.
And, yes, I’d just felt something like love back there in the cabin’s living room. And I knew I could trust them the way they now trusted me. But, I didn’t think I could bear living a life with only two of them, or even just one. No. Either all of them, or none of them. Because if something did happen to one of them, I’d have even more guilt than I was feeling right now. The guilt of not only having gotten one of my lovers killed, but having killed my lovers’ friend and comrade.
Maybe they wouldn’t blame me if something did happen. After all, they too were soldiers, and they knew the risks and uncertainty of everything we had planned. But, I’d still feel that sharp, compounding guilt every time I looked into the eyes of one of the survivors if our operation went wrong.
I couldn’t risk that.
I couldn’t risk living with that weight on my shoulders.
Regret at my own life-not-lived was far better than the guilt of others’ lives thrown away in an effort to protect me from my mistakes.
Because this was my fault. I was the one who’d made these choices. And I was the one who needed to clean them up. And this final choice, this choice of what to do with Management…
I’d make that choice, too. I’d follow through, even though every fiber in my being told me that this was my chance to turn away from my old life.
After all, what was one last kill to add onto the list?
