The Hunted Read online

  “I won’t send her unless both she and the psychologist give the okay.”

  Martha continued her disarming scrutiny. She was tougher than many of the agents he sent out in the field but not quite a match for the man in charge, even if she liked to believe she was.

  The heavy silence burned through Benjamin’s skull, and he felt a migraine forming. It wasn’t that Martha intimidated him; it was the thought of sending RJ on this particular assignment. He’d stopped assassination attempts, recovered priceless artifacts, been shot at, risked his life too many times to remember, all without breaking a sweat—but the thought of putting his only family in this position was almost enough to break his cool.

  “Yes, I know RJ will say its fine for her to be over there, and yes, I know how dangerous psychological distractions can be in the field, but, damn it, do you really think I would send my own niece over there if I thought I was putting her in real danger?”

  Martha’s left eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly.

  “Yes, yes, I know the irony of me saying that as all our missions are dangerous in one way or another. I’m not making any decisions until I get more data, but it makes the most sense for RJ to be the agent we send.”

  Martha’s nostrils flared slightly as she blew a deep breath out of her nose and stood up to leave. “I’ll get Macy to work right away, and get the psych report to you in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.” At the moment, Benjamin despised her for being his moral compass. His head was already almost bursting at the thought of sending RJ over to Scotland, but if he was to think like the director that he was, there was little choice in the matter. Her accent and knowledge—the fact that she’d lived there most of her life—made her the most logical choice to go in undercover. Her issues with returning to the country of her birth, however, might very well outweigh that hefty advantage.

  His computer pinged, signaling that he’d received an email. Martha, as efficient as always, had sent through the psych evaluation within minutes of leaving his office. He opened it and read through the summary, looking for anything he should be worried about.

  Coping well after first mission and appears to have settled into role. No kills to date. Unable to ascertain at this moment the effect this would have on agent’s state of mind. Has reconciled with the idea that parents worked for the organization in the past. I’m of the belief, as is the agent in question, that this new role as well as the information about her parents and surviving family has aided in her grieving process. I have no hesitation in recommending this agent for further duties in the field or otherwise.

  Benjamin scanned through the rest of the report, finding nothing more of any interest. It was bordering on unethical—him reading the psych evaluation of a family member. There was certainly a conflict of interest, no one could argue against that. It was a necessary invasion, though, and one RJ knew about and had consented to. Benjamin had access to all employee data should he need it. But with RJ, he had responsibilities that extended far beyond his role as director. He was her uncle; her only family member—the only person left to look out for her and keep her safe. He would do that any way possible with all information available to him.

  RJ shouldn’t have been able to mislead the psychologist. The report was written after hours of observations, mission notes, and discussions with colleagues—not solely individual therapy sessions. He wouldn’t be sure, though, until he looked in RJ’s eyes and saw it for himself.

  #

  RJ had just finished a grueling physical evaluation and was taking a much-anticipated steam shower when she heard her phone beep. She put her hand out through the curtain, searching blindly for her cell. Glancing at the screen, she saw it was a text from her uncle asking her to meet him in his office in thirty minutes, and she relaxed in the knowledge that she had time to ease her tired muscles and get herself together. She rubbed at the indentations on her face from the mask that had been used to measure the oxygen circulating through her body. Her oxygen rates were much higher than when she’d first joined the organization, her heart rate quicker to return to normal and her strength vastly increased, but God, she hated those tests. They always pushed her to her limits, albeit those limits were now increased, but she always ended up feeling like she was going to pass out from the exertion. She’d rather go ten rounds with Ivan, her hand-to-hand combat trainer who regularly whooped her ass and left her covered in bruises, than endure another bloody physical evaluation again. Even though she did get a sense of satisfaction and achievement when she saw her results afterwards, it sure as hell wasn’t worth it.

  She lathered her hair, the soft scent of her expensive shampoo invading her senses and lulling her tight muscles into relaxation. It was one of the only luxuries she allowed herself. Good food and quality personal care items. She deserved both after the mental and physical torture they put her through at headquarters—today being a prime example.

  Reluctantly, she rinsed the soapy suds from her hair and body, then turned the shower off. She dried herself with the large, fluffy white towel provided, dressed quickly and dried her straight hair with the powerful hairdryer on the dresser in the bathroom. There was no way she could walk about the floors above without being anything less than well put together. The agents there might walk around with split lips, black eyes, and goodness knows what else, but God forbid they have even a hair out of place. They were expected to hold themselves to professional standards at all times. RJ still hadn’t decided whether this conventional attitude in the organization was a good thing or not.

  “Agents are expected to give a hundred percent at all times in all ways,” her uncle had once explained to her. “Our employees are the best of the best. We don’t expect perfection, but we expect you to strive damn well near to it.”

  RJ understood—she did—but keeping up those standards day after day was exhausting. She knew it was good practice for being out in the field, though, and she really did try her best. That’s where her competitive nature came in handy. She hadn’t seen anyone else’s professionalism slip, so she wasn’t about to let hers do so.

  As she made her way up to her uncle’s office, her spine tingled in anticipation. She might be about to receive a new assignment, only her second to date. The first one had been a bit of a washout. She hoped she could finally get something to stick her teeth into, something to put her newly acquired skills to the test. Her previous life as a geology professor was long gone, but it felt as though she was waiting in the wings for the new one to start. This meeting would hopefully change that. If Ben had wanted to see her for personal reasons, he would have waited to talk to her at home that evening. They were both working hard to keep that separation clear—their relationship at the organization was strictly professional; at home they were family.

  “Afternoon, RJ,” Martha, the gatekeeper to her uncle’s inner sanctum, greeted her. “Go straight through, he’s expecting you.”

  RJ smiled her thanks but hesitated at the older lady’s desk. Everyone knew she was the real force behind the organization. She shared a connection with her uncle’s assistant in that they were the only two people in the organization who could, and regularly did, question his authority.

  “How are you, Martha?” RJ asked her.

  Martha’s expression didn’t change, but RJ noticed a subtle shift in her eye movements. Perhaps she was surprised that an agent cared enough to ask about her. Although, RJ could imagine the handsome ones trying and failing to use their charms to get on Martha’s good side. It simply wouldn’t happen. RJ just knew Martha would never give them an inch.

  “I’m very fine, thank you, RJ. And, how are you? How’s the training going?” Martha never gave much away about herself, but it didn’t stop RJ from trying to find a chink in her armor.

  “Urgh!” RJ groaned, rolling her eyes. “I had my fitness test this morning. This job certainly has its ups and downs, but between you and me, I much prefer being out on assignment.”

  “You all do,
dear,” Martha assured her with a steely smile.

  RJ nodded. She’d spent a lot of time at HQ during her training period and had seen how stir-crazy the agents could get when they were here, waiting for the next job and updating their skills. The young ones, like her, were especially keen to get out into the field, and though the more experienced agents were more aware of the dangers that awaited them with each new assignment, there was still a restlessness evident in them whenever they were stuck at HQ between assignments.

  “I’m hoping that’s what I’m here for now, a new assignment. Do you know anything?”

  “You’ll have to talk to Benjamin about that.”

  “But you do know, right?”

  Martha simply smiled. Try as she might, RJ could never get anything out of her. People at Kingfisher were just too damn good at their jobs. She’d just have to find out from the man in charge. RJ shook her head and gave Martha one last smile as she headed to Benjamin’s office.

  She pushed open the door to see her uncle at his desk, fingers steepled and his Newton’s cradle rocking on his desk—a sure sign that he had been deep in thought on a weighty issue.

  “Hey,” she greeted him, tilting her chin up in greeting.

  He looked her straight in the eye, unsmiling. “Hey.”

  It was not a reassuring sight. RJ’s guard immediately went up.

  “Uh-oh, what’ve I done now?” she joked in an attempt to hide her trepidation.

  “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”

  “Um . . .”

  “Don’t look so worried, RJ, that’s not why I’ve called you here.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “I am intrigued about what you may have done to make you look so guilty, but that’ll have to wait.”

  “So, why did you want to see me? And I haven’t done anything, Uncle Ben. It’s just the effect of being called to the ‘headmaster’s office’. I can assure you I’ve been handing all my homework in and have been really good in class. Ask any of my teachers.” She tried to look contrite but could see he wasn’t buying it.

  “Believe me, I’d know if you haven’t. I’m well aware how well you have been doing. That’s part of the reason you’re here. I wanted to talk to you about a new assignment.” He took a breath that anyone else would have missed, but RJ was so familiar with him, she couldn’t fail to notice.

  “I figured as much. You don’t look very happy about it, though.” She leaned forward in her chair, her back suddenly straighter and her ears on high alert. “So, what’s the deal with the assignment? What’s got you so worried?”

  “The assignment lends itself particularly well to your unique set of skills. I have every confidence in your abilities . . .”

  RJ waited but he didn’t continue. His face was inscrutable. He didn’t need to fill in the gaps. If there was nothing for her to worry about regarding the actual assignment, there could only be a handful of other issues that might make him so ill at ease.

  “It’s not the assignment, is it? It’s the location.” The realization hit RJ with a surprisingly dull ache.

  “Well . . .” he began.

  Chapter 3

  RJ drove her rental car towards the Sullivans’ summer house in New Hampshire, passing houses that grew progressively larger with each mile she traveled. The trees were in full splendor as they basked in their present status, the threat of autumn so out of reach that they almost seemed to dance with emerald joy.

  She had been surprised at her uncle’s request that she go on assignment in Scotland, but even more surprised at her own reaction. A trip that would have filled her with dread and trepidation merely a year ago was now viewed through eyes that saw it simply as a job, a task she was required to complete. She hadn’t been able to cope with the idea of staying in Scotland after her parents’ tragic death at the hands of a hit-and-run driver and had practically jumped at the chance to continue her academic career overseas. Up until now, she hadn’t been able to face going back, had barely even given it any thought. Of course, the idea that she wouldn’t have to see or interact with anyone she knew and would be a world away from her old hometown made it easier. The fact that she would be returning to an area where she had vacationed with her family as a young girl was unexpectedly comforting. It felt fitting that she would return there to perform a role both her parents had performed in the past—although, she hadn’t known that until recently. She was actually excited at the prospect.

  Ben, bless him, had looked like the weight of a mountain had been lifted from his shoulders at her reaction. He was worried about her, of course, she knew that, but for the first time in a long time, RJ felt grounded and capable of almost anything. She would feel eternally grateful that he had unwittingly forced her into an interview for Kingfisher and brought her into the fold that had once encompassed her parents. She’d felt like killing him when she’d found out that the perilous situation she’d been thrown into was nothing but a setup for her to join the organization, and that feeling hadn’t subsided even when she’d discovered he was her dad’s brother. Luckily for both of them, that anger had quickly given way to a bond that could never be broken, and an appreciation for a much more challenging and exciting life than her previous one in the world of geological academia. The idea that she was following in her parents’ footsteps in what was effectively the family business of international espionage was just the icing on the cake.

  The road gave way to an older surface laid with red bricks, and RJ reduced her speed. It wasn’t clear if the road was historically important or if the local rich landowners had elected to have it built as a sign of prestige. Whatever the case, the necessary slower pace the bricks demanded helped as she looked for the number that had been given to her when the plane had landed a few hours previously.

  Even at her reduced speed, she almost missed the driveway as she turned a corner under a mammoth weeping willow. She’d been too busy negotiating over the bricks that had been displaced by the tree’s imposing root system to notice the break in the wall, hidden under the shadow of the tree. Skidding to a halt, she checked her rear-view mirror and backed up a few feet so she could enter the drive. The driveway wasn’t designed to attract attention—you’d really need to know it was there or specifically be looking for it. The entrance consisted of a small break in what seemed like an impossibly long wall. A high, iron fence topped smooth, red brick walls—which looked to be from the same brickworks as the road—masking the high hedges within. It was more like a hidden lair or the back entrance to a sprawling property than the gaudy display of wealth RJ had expected. There was no indication as to who lived there—no name plates, no decoration on the fence or atop the gates, which were a simple extension of the fence—just a nondescript number stuck on the right-hand side of the flat, red wall that faced the road.

  RJ pulled in and looked at the gates, which remained closed and unwelcoming. She glanced around until she spotted an unobtrusive intercom inlaid in the wall. It had been completely hidden until she was right alongside it, and even then, its existence wasn’t obvious. When she pressed the call button, it was answered almost immediately. She had no doubt her every move was being watched through a camera hidden somewhere nearby.

  “Yes?” a male voice answered. RJ assumed it was only one of a number of security personnel on the premises.

  “RJ Rox for Ms. Justine Sullivan.”

  The imposing black gates slowly swung open, inviting RJ into the grounds. Hedges graced either side of the drive as she drove around a bend on the same brick paving until the material under her tires changed into crushed white shell. The drive curved around manicured grounds, showing off what must have been very expensive artwork at every bend. An impossibly tall-legged, blue elephant disappeared into the foliage behind her as she drove on, an enormous mosaic lion roared at her as she passed, and a shining metal giraffe sheltered her baby from the world. The artwork should have prepared RJ for what to expect when she saw the house, but when she turned the final corner to see the house di
splayed in front of her, she was flabbergasted. She pulled up alongside a fountain of clamoring bronze howler monkeys juxtaposed beside the red-brick façade of the most enormous house she had ever seen. Three stories stretched high into the air; the walls made up of as much glass as they were of brick.

  Justine was waiting at the bottom of a sandstone staircase that led into the house.

  “I don’t care what you do with it, I told you I don’t want it in my house,” she hissed into her cell phone before abruptly terminating the call. Her face, once pretty, was red and blotchy, her eyes puffy and free of makeup. The only signs of extravagance RJ noted were the diamond studs in her ears and the rings on her wedding finger, which held an unexpectedly small and tasteful blue stone.

  She stowed the cell in her pocket and looked at RJ with empty eyes. “James commissioned another piece for the garden before he died,” she explained in lieu of greeting. “I can’t stand the thought of welcoming it with open arms.” She turned and started up the stairs, evidently expecting RJ to follow.

  RJ complied, allowing herself to be led through the house.

  “We’ll go through to the jetty. It’s so pretty at this time of year,” Justine said as she walked ahead, her voice monotone and almost robotic.

  RJ took in the décor. If James Sullivan had decorated the sprawling grounds, then Janice had clearly been allowed free rein on the interior. The solid wood floors led to rooms filled with sumptuous sofas, antique furniture, and ornate chandeliers. One room held a grand piano, chaise lounge, and little else. Everything was understated yet obviously expensive—nothing like the attention-grabbing sculptures she had encountered on the drive.

  Justine led her to the back of the house, down a path through what looked like an English country garden, and onto a wooden walkway over the water. The walkway opened out into an undercover lounge and dining area that overlooked a mirror-flat lake.