Kim Baldwin - The Gemini Deception

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Monty replied, “but I could tell from his tone he’s found something significant.” Reno had summoned them for this predawn briefing; he’d been working nonstop since Shield’s call to find out more about Theodora Rothschild and how she was connected to TQ.

“I hate this waiting around,” Joanne said. “Every minute that goes by, Jaclyn is—”

Reno rushed in, his laptop in one hand and computer printouts in the other. “We’ll find her,” he said with confidence, “now that TQ’s no longer a ghost.”

They all took seats at one end of the conference table.

“The headline is, TQ and Theodora Rothschild are one and the same,” Reno said as he passed printouts to each of them.

Monty scanned his. On top was a color passport photo of an attractive, middle-aged woman with white hair and eyes devoid of warmth or emotion. Beneath it was a birth certificate.

“Rothschild is her married name,” Reno said. “She was born Theodora Quinevere Lassiter on March 29, 1962, according to her birth certificate. That’s the same day as the faked date of death registered for Dario’s sibling. The city matches, too—Wichita, Kansas. Parents of record are a Howard and Ellen Lassiter. He’s deceased, and she’s in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s, so no help there. I wasn’t able to find any connection between the Lassiters and Imperis, but they lived only a few blocks away from each other, so they may have known each other through a common church or school or something.”

Monty scanned the next printout as Reno’s briefing continued.

“Theodora Lassiter married Philip Victor Nathaniel Rothschild, heir to the British banking branch of the noble family, in 1982. A year later, Philip founded the Rothschild Auction Houses in Houston, but he didn’t get much of a chance to enjoy it. He was found dead in his bed by their maid six months later, while his wife was away on a spa vacation. They performed an autopsy since he was only forty, but the results were inconclusive.”

Reno picked up the computer sheet. “Theodora—TQ—took over the auction houses, which last year reported a net income to the IRS of forty-two million dollars. She never remarried, keeps a very low profile, and is rarely photographed. Her home address is a penthouse in Houston, but she also has an office in D.C. The addresses of both are listed at the bottom of page four in your handout.”

“Great work, Reno,” Monty said.

“We need to throw a lot of manpower at both locations simultaneously,” Arthur said. “And we have to do it fast. Should we call in the feds?”

Monty shook his head. “Too risky. We have to deal with this ourselves. She’s proved she has allies in law enforcement and government all the way up to the White House. We don’t know who to trust, and I won’t jeopardize Jaclyn’s welfare or chance TQ getting tipped off and being able to destroy any records she has about her holdings and criminal enterprises.”

“Who’s immediately available for Texas?” Arthur asked.

“Cameo, Blade, and Wasp are here,” Joanne replied, referencing three other top members of their Elite Tactical Force who’d come back to the Colorado campus for a debriefing from their last mission. “Viper and Ranger are both in Austin and can get there in no time.”

“Get our jet readied ASAP,” Monty said to Reno as he jumped to his feet. “And have my car brought around front.”

Joanne protested. “There’s no need for you to go to Texas. We have five people on it.”

“I know. That’s why I’m going to Washington,” he replied. “The others can charter a private jet. If Jaclyn is anywhere, it’s near the capital. She’s hurt and bleeding. TQ would never have her travel back to Texas in her current condition, if Jack was ever even there in the first place. I know the bitch is holding her at her D.C. office or somewhere in the vicinity. Reno, you’ll guide me when I get there.”

“Us,” Arthur said. “I’ll get my gear and change.”

“I’m coming with you, too,” Cassady said from the door, where she’d apparently heard enough to get the crux of the plan.

“Then get ready,” Monty said.

“You leave in thirty,” Reno informed them.

Joanne frowned. “Monty, you are in no condition to—”

“I have to do this, Joanne.” Monty went to her and embraced her tightly. “I’m going to personally bring my daughter back.”

Chapter Thirty-four

Burke, Virginia

Shield scooted to the edge of the couch and Wagner sat next to her, though with obvious reluctance. “How’s the pain?”

Wagner looked down at herself. “I don’t really remember removing my shirt, but it hurts less now.”

“I know. All you needed was a rush.”

Wagner stared at her, incredulous. “You mean that whole conversation…everything was to piss me off?”

“It worked,” Shield replied.

“But you still meant every word.”

“More or less.” Shield moved to pull her shirt away. “May I?”

Wagner let the garment fall to her lap. “How bad?” She winced when she took a good look at the wound. “What a mess.”

“It’ll look better after I clean it up.” She removed gauze bandages and iodine from the kit. “It won’t be pleasant.”

Wagner took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

She took her time cleaning the wound, being thorough but as gentle as possible. She knew from experience how painful flesh wounds could be and this one was pretty deep, but Wagner never flinched or complained. She sat stoically, staring at a spot on the floor, and occasionally gritted her teeth. One thing was for sure—this woman was a survivor.

She was surprised to learn that Wagner was an orphan, too, and had spent her life trying to satisfy and seek approval. Her remarks were spot-on concerning Shield’s decisions or lack of them. She’d been raised by a company, not a family. A company that had put a roof over her head and given her much in the way of education, but never a home. Pierce and crew made a point of never getting too attached to the children. They raised soldiers, not their own offspring, after all. But the fact that the EOO had deemed her worthy enough for adoption made her feel indebted, and that’s why she never declined a job or gave less than her best.

Who knew where she’d be today if the EOO hadn’t taken her in? Plenty of kids never got adopted and ended up in disturbed foster homes, run by couples looking to make easy cash that they never spent on the child. Wagner was a prime example. She’d had to fight for herself since she was born and had probably done it regardless of consequences or dreadful odds. Shield couldn’t help but respect Wagner’s tenacity and determination to survive in a world that had rejected her. “If you’re not gay, and you weren’t trying to seduce me for gain or because Moore asked you to, why did you kiss me?”

Wagner visibly flinched for the first time. “That hurt.”

She paused, tweezers poised above the wound. “Try not to move, okay?”

Wagner went back to staring at her spot on the carpet. “I don’t know,” she said after a long while. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

Shield smiled. “You mean kiss someone or kiss a woman?”

“Both.”

The reply was such a surprise Shield stopped cleaning the wound and looked at her.

“I’ve let men kiss me, but I’ve never made the first move,” Wagner said.

Shield picked up the gauze. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought of any man kissing Wagner disturbed her.

“I’ve never felt the need to make the first move,” Wagner said. “Or the second, for that matter.”

“Shy?”

“Not at all. Just indifferent. I dated men—three in total—because it was something girls were supposed to do. I got fed up with friends…acquaintances and colleagues, really…calling me a nun, so I started to hang out at bars after work to meet guys.”