Kim Baldwin - The Gemini Deception

“But I swear I don’t know who this TQ is that that woman who saved us accused me of working for.”

Shield was lost in thought. “Huh? Yeah, the name doesn’t mean anything to me, either.”

She reached over and picked up the phone. “But maybe my employer knows.” Thankfully, she got a dial tone. “Shield, 29041971. Put me through to Pierce ASAP.”

*

Southwestern Colorado

Montgomery Pierce sat in his favorite armchair while Joanne massaged his shoulders.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised the grave was empty,” he said.

The op they’d sent to Kansas to check on Dario’s supposedly dead sister had confirmed Chase’s suspicions. Chase hadn’t sounded at all surprised when Monty called to tell her but had tried to reassure him they at least had something to go on. First thing tomorrow morning, she was going to Kansas herself to find anyone who knew the Imperis.

Reno had been assigned to find any adoption papers from the period that matched, but so far, his attempts had been fruitless. The baby had probably been sold, and no legal papers were ever drawn.

Monty sighed and looked up at Joanne. “We have to find someone who knew the parents. Someone must know—” The ringing of his telephone cut him off. He jumped up to answer it.

“You can’t keep this up, Monty,” Joanne said as he reached for it. “I’m worried, too, but you’re going to give yourself a heart attack if your blood pressure hits the ceiling every time the phone rings.”

“I’m fine. Stop coddling me.” He put the receiver to his ear. “Any news?”

“I have Shield on the phone.”

Monty took the receiver with him back to the armchair. “Put her through.”

He listened while Shield explained what had happened and how she’d gotten away. Halfway during the whole bizarre story he put the speakerphone on for Joanne, who was going crazy with his exclamations.

“I’ll be damned,” he said. “A fake president.”

“A very convincing one,” Shield said. “Do you know Theodora Rothschild?”

“Who?” he asked.

“Of the Rothschild Auction Houses. She’s the one who framed and hired Wagner, and unless someone finds her, she will not stop looking for us. We’re the only ones who know who she is and what she’s done, and she’s looking at terrorist charges. You know what that means.”

“Where are you now?” he asked.

“We’re at this abandoned safe house a few miles from Washington.”

“You don’t mean the one in Burke?”

“That’s the one,” Shield confirmed.

“How did you know about it?” he asked. “It’s exclusively EOO, but we haven’t used it in a decade or more.”

“It looks it. This woman who helped us escape told me where to find it.”

“How did she know?”

“I have no clue.”

Monty looked at Joanne to see whether she knew about an agent under cover in the area. She shook her head, as mystified as he was. “What’s her name?” he asked Shield.

“She wouldn’t say. I asked her to come with us, but she said she had to stay or they’d kill her. She said she was working for the same woman as Wagner, someone named TQ. But Wagner says she’s never heard of a TQ. You know, for a while I thought our helper was one of ours in deep cover—she used the EOO mantra to signal me.”

“By any means necessary?” Monty said distractedly.

“I offered to help her. Told her my people would protect her, but—”

“But what?”

“It was strange, but she said my people don’t give a damn about her.”

Joanne gasped. “What did she look like?”

“Dark hair, cut kinda short,” Shield replied. “She had green eyes, and a scar from her cheek to the corner of her mouth.”

“Oh, my God!” Joanne cried out.

“One of the men called her Silent Death.”

“Jaclyn,” Monty said aloud, stunned.

“As in Harding?” Shield sounded surprised.

“Jaclyn is alive,” Monty mumbled, and leaned back, ignoring the question.

“She saved my life,” Shield said.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“Probably long gone by now. Somewhere at a hospital, I would think.”

Monty gripped the armrest. “What do you mean?”

“After she gave us the keys to the van, she shot herself in the leg to make it look like I did it when she tried to stop us.”

“Are you sure this Wagner doesn’t know TQ?”

“She’s admitted to everything else,” Shield replied.

“It sounds like TQ and Rothschild are somehow connected, work together,” Joanne said. He nodded. “Rothschild should be easy enough to find.”

“She’s a customer of mine,” Shield offered. “She buys crates of wine directly from Tuscany.”

“I doubt she has it shipped to her home. People like Rothschild use in-between addresses,” Monty said. “Stay where you are until further notice. This TQ bitch means business. If she has to crawl under rocks to find you, she will.”

“Harding made that clear when she sent us to the safe house.”

“I’ll call when I have something.”

“They took my cell,” Shield said. “I don’t know the number here.”

“I do.” Monty hung up.

“What do we do about Wagner and the president?” Joanne asked.

“Thomas was returned to office hours ago,” he replied. “So far she hasn’t said anything about her kidnapping.”

“She probably won’t talk if she wants to keep her credibility.”

“And life,” Monty added.

“We do nothing,” Joanne concluded, “unless it becomes our business.”

“My business right now is to find Jaclyn.”

Chapter Thirty-three

Burke, Virginia

Ryden glanced around the living room while Kennedy spoke in muted tones to her organization on the phone. She’d never seen a more bare-bones living space. No pictures on the walls, not a single piece of decoration, no books, not even a television—the couch faced a massive fireplace instead. At least, she mused, the place would be a little cozier once they touched a match to the stack of wood that had been left for whoever took refuge here.

Kennedy hung up the phone and turned to her. “Make yourself at home. I don’t know how long we’re going to be here.”

“Anywhere is fine as long as I’m free from those people.”

“I’m going to look for something to clean you up.”

Ryden wasn’t sure how to take that and suppressed the urge to do an odor check.

Kennedy must have seen her surprised look. “Your arm is bleeding.” She walked to the bathroom.

“Oh. Yeah.” Ryden noticed for the first time how thoroughly blood had saturated her sleeve. Although she knew she’d been grazed, she’d hardly been aware of it because so much was going on and the wound hadn’t really hurt. But seeing all that blood had suddenly changed things. Now it hurt. A lot. “Why the hell did I have to look?” she muttered.

“What?” Kennedy stuck her head out of the other room.

“Your eye is swollen.” That mysterious woman who’d helped them escape had taken a good swing at Kennedy.

Kennedy disappeared again as she went to check herself in the mirror. “So I see.”

“This place clearly hasn’t been used for years. I doubt you’ll find anything, but I’ll take any expired painkillers you can find.”

“Ten years, to be exact.” Kennedy returned from the bathroom with a big first-aid box in her hands.

“Thank you.” Ryden extended her hand to take it from her.

“Have you cleaned a bullet wound before?”

“Can’t say it’s on my list of experiences.”

“Then remove your shirt and let me have a look.” Kennedy appeared and sounded irritated.

“You don’t have to. I’ll let you know if it’s bad.” She wasn’t about to burden Kennedy with cleaning her up. She could barely face her after tonight’s revelations, and besides, she didn’t feel comfortable being seen half-naked.