His words had thrown me into a tailspin of my own. One that was guilt driven. The day after Christmas, I went to see my mum. I’d asked her to let me bring Sven with me, but she’d refused.

  When I arrived at the house she’d rented, I was relieved to find her in good spirits. When I told her what Sven had done for me for Christmas, she appeared happy for me. Later, though, I went to look for her after she’d gone to fetch tea and was gone longer than I expected. I found her outside in the yard, off the kitchen, and she was crying.

  “I knew love once in my life,” she’d told me through her tears. “Great love.”

  “My father?” I asked.

  Her mood shifted from sadness to anger. “It’s time for you to leave,” was her only response.

  I was momentarily stunned, but I shouldn’t have been. The abrupt changes in her mood were something I’d lived with my entire life.

  I left as she’d told me to do, and when I returned to the flat and Sven asked about the visit, I told him it had been fine but went into no detail.

  When we returned to work after the holiday break, I looked into counseling and found there were people available within SIS that I could talk to. No one, not Sven or any of my supervisors, would be informed of my visits, and they were easy to schedule once a week during my lunch break.

  After a few weeks, I told the woman I hadn’t shared my visits with her with Sven.

  “It’s troubling you. Tell me why,” she’d said.

  My answer—guilt—was immediate.

  Our focus from that day on had been on self-care, self-preservation, and how the most important work we’d done—would continue to do—was for me to learn that the actions of others, the mental illness of others, were neither my fault nor my responsibility. It was something I still struggled with and worked on.

  So, when Sven told me he had intense feelings of dread, I held him and told him I loved him. Nothing more.

  The next afternoon, he came to my office and told me he’d be meeting up with his task force members, as well as the US commander, at the pub that evening. As I had not been approached about joining the team, I begged off.

  By the time he returned, I was about to get in bed.

  “The guy from the States has requested an off-site command center.” I sat on the bed as he got undressed. “There isn’t room for everyone to work out of Vauxhall Cross. As it is, Cayman and I have moved from the MI5 floor to MI6, where we have to share an office.”

  “Did he say where it would be?”

  “Cayman has offered his estate in Shere. It’s an hour’s commute at best. Sometimes as long as ninety minutes.”

  “Is commuting necessary? It seems this would put additional strain on the team.”

  Sven shook his head. “The reason Cayman’s place makes sense is that there are several lodging options right on the estate.” While his knee no longer pained him, he still rubbed it when he was particularly worried. “Either I commute there, or you commute here, and neither makes sense, but it’s the only way we’ll see each other.”

  While he took a shower, I lay in bed, thinking about what this news would mean for us. Maybe we could work out some kind of schedule. I could go there on the weekends or when there was downtime, or maybe he could come home for a day or two.

  “I may have an idea,” he said when he joined me in bed and pulled me into his arms.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll speak to Nemesis and Cayman about you joining the task force.”

  I felt my shoulders tense. Sven did too.

  “What I mean to say is, if that’s something you’d be interested in doing.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  He snuggled me closer. “I’m sorry. I get ahead of myself.”

  “Before you approach them, I need to think it over.”

  He nodded and kissed my forehead. “Understood. Forgive me?”

  “If you’d spoken to them first, there’d be something to forgive. You didn’t, so all is well.”

  The next morning, Sven packed a bag and left for Shere. We managed to see each other every few days, and while it was hard on both of us, we were adapting.

  I got back into sketching. At first, I drew him more than anyone else. Soon, I started venturing out, sketching the places I visited—gardens, libraries, and everyday street scenes.

  Since the UK team wasn’t in need of another member now, we decided it would be best for Sven to put off talking with Nemesis about my joining the task force.

  “Have you spoken with Puck?” Iris asked ten days after Puck left.

  “I speak with him every day.” I was curious as to why she queried.

  “Just wondering,” she said, perhaps sensing my confusion.

  “All right, Iris, I’ll bite. Why?”

  “I heard he and Wilder were escorting Nemesis to Sharm el-Sheikh to meet with Oleander.”

  “Right,” I muttered.

  “So he told you, then?”

  Was this some kind of trap? Of course he hadn’t. The missions undertaken by the task forces were classified, and I was not privy to anything about them. “He did not,” I responded.

  Iris walked away, leaving me feeling unsettled. As far as I knew, her security clearance wasn’t any higher than mine. Rather than doubt Sven’s inability to inform me, I wondered who was passing her information she shouldn’t know.

  Two weeks later, Sven called and asked if I could leave the office early and meet him at home. I was giddy the entire way to the flat, so anxious to see him. When I opened the door and saw him waiting, I flew into his arms. We kissed and held each other, but I sensed whatever was on his mind was quite serious.

  “What I’m about to tell you is highly classified,” he began after we sat next to each other on the sofa. It was the first time since he left for Shere that he’d share anything about the investigations taking place at the command center. As I wasn’t part of the team, he couldn’t. All information was need to know.

  “There’s a raid planned in Bulgaria. Everyone will deploy later tonight. All task force members.”

  Without him saying anything further, I understood the ramifications of what he was facing.

  “Seshat, my love, you know⁠—”

  I put my fingertips on his lips to silence him, then kissed him.

  In the little time we had before he left, we made love. I couldn’t explain why it felt so different, nor did I allow myself to overly think about it. Danger was inherent in every op of every mission. A raid the size of the one in Bulgaria meant the risk was exponentially higher.

  It was over twenty-four hours before I heard from Sven. The planned raid had been successful, and with the intel received from some of the traffickers who were arrested, a second raid took place less than an hour away in Edirne, Turkey.

  Eleven were arrested, and another ten were killed in the first op. In the second, one hundred and fifty traffickers were apprehended. Estimates were that over sixteen hundred victims were rescued in total.

  “Ares was stabbed. He’s in hospital now, and we’re waiting for word.”

  The man was the commander of the US task force, whom Sven had worked closely with. “I’m so sorry.”

  “According to Nemesis, they don’t believe his wound is life-threatening.”

  “Thank God.”

  “I’ll keep you posted as I know more. I need to get back inside. There’s a hotwash scheduled.”

  “Of course. I’ll speak with you as you’re able to make contact.”

  “Seshat?”

  “Yes, Puck?” We used one another’s code names more as terms of endearment, and knowing he was the one to give mine to me made it more special.

  “I love you so much.”

  I closed my eyes and imagined myself hugging him. “I love you.”

  “I wish I could return to London first, but our orders are to report directly back to Shere.”

  “We’ll see each other as soon as we can.”

  The following day, my office phone rang with a call from Sven. “Something’s happened. Shit is hitting the fan.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Bexli is missing, and there’s reason to believe she’s been abducted by a trafficker.”

  “Oh my God,” I gasped. While I hadn’t met the woman, Sven told me about her. She and Cayman had been friends since childhood, and he believed his friend wanted more, that she was the love of his life. “It doesn’t appear Bexli feels the same way about him,” he’d told me.

  “How is Cayman?” I asked.

  “As you’d expect him to be. Listen, there’s something else I need to tell you. Earlier, Ambassador Marchand from the UN was here. He named Nemesis the head of the coalition. Cayman was named commander of the UK task force.”

  “Oh my God,” I repeated. “And now, Bexli is missing?” This was disastrous on many levels.

  “Z and I spoke briefly. His intention is to ask Cayman to step aside for this mission and is recommending that I serve in the interim. Anyway, there’s talk of a rescue op deploying immediately. I’m suggesting you, Beak, and Vulcan report to Shere as soon as you can get here. Transport is being arranged now. And, Seshat, your skills as a physician’s assistant may be needed. It is believed at least twenty women are being held captive at a villa on Gozo, a Maltese island. A man called Mithras, a suspected human trafficking ring leader, is also believed to be at the property. Our objectives are twofold—rescue the victims and apprehend Mithras and everyone working for him.”

  “Understood.”

  I looked up when the call ended, and Iris was standing in my doorway. “Did you talk to Puck?” she asked like she had a couple of weeks previously.

  “Affirmative.”

  She nodded. “I’ll take you home so you can get some things together. Beak and Vulcan said to meet them back here in one hour.”

  “Roger that.” I was already mentally preparing what I’d need to bring with me as we took the lift to the lower-level car park. “I appreciate this. You’re saving me at least thirty minutes,” I said when she offered to wait while I packed, then drive me back to the office.

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  Sven had once told me that Iris wasn’t highly regarded within MI5 and that he didn’t understand it. I had to agree. I worked with the woman on an almost daily basis and found her to be professional, good at her job, and in general, a nice person. Her actions today were evidence of it. On the other hand, I was still troubled by her informing me Puck was escorting Nemesis to Sharm el-Sheikh.

  “Things have escalated,” Beak reported when we returned to Vauxhall Cross. “Rather than going to Shere first, we’re to report directly to Gatwick Airport.”

  “Godspeed to you and Puck,” Iris said, embracing me. “And to Cayman, but we’ll keep that between us.”

  “Understood,” I said after thanking her, but I didn’t. Maybe I’d ask Sven what she meant after the rescue op.

  Then again, when a feeling of dread settled over me like none I’d ever experienced before, something told me finding out what Iris meant would be the last thing on my mind.

  When we arrived at the airfield, Sven was outside, waiting for us. After Beak and Vulcan went inside, he pulled me around a corner and we kissed.

  “I love you so much,” he said, cupping my cheek. “Part of me wanted to shield you from this, but we need you.”

  My brow furrowed. “This is my job. You can’t shield me from it any more than I can do that to you.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I just…”

  “Have a bad feeling?”

  When he nodded, I thought about telling him I did too, but I kept silent instead.

  17

  PUCK

  Seshat and I were required to attend periodic briefings during the flight to Malta. They were held in an aft stateroom of the transport plane. Some required both of us present, and others just one of us.

  Another physician’s assistant, Anouk “Ehren” Richter, a Swiss Federal Department of Defense agent, was also on board. Magnet, the Albanian task force commander, was in charge of setting up a triage site where victims rescued from the planned raid would be assessed and a determination would be made for the medical treatment they’d require.

  First, though, Seshat would be on one of the teams entering the villa where we’d determined the women—all of whom were scheduled to be sold in an online sex-slave auction within the next twenty-four hours—were being held. We believed Bexli Everdeen was one of them.

  I’d considered having Seshat remain at the triage center, but after reviewing the plan for the raid, I knew she’d be needed at the villa in the event any of the women needed immediate care.

  I struggled, though, knowing she’d be in the kind of danger inherent to a raid. Was it any different for Ares and Nemesis, though? They weren’t just in a relationship; they were married. Ares could hardly suggest the coalition commander sit out a dangerous op, or vice versa.

  Yesterday, before I’d informed Nem that I brought in reinforcements from MI5, I vacillated in the same way I was now. It was only her insistence that Seshat’s experience as a physician’s assistant was vital to the op that forced me to make the final decision for her inclusion. My gut, on the other hand, was in a state of turmoil.

  “I love you,” I leaned in and whispered.

  Seshat smiled and rested her head on my shoulder but only briefly. “I love you.”

  Z had arranged to rent a villa on Gozo that would serve as our command center. It would also serve as a place to bring the victims until such time as we could reunify them with family members. While triage would take place at a site near the villa where the women were being held, this location would be where the majority of the medical treatment took place.

  Upon our arrival on the island, Seshat and Ehren, along with Magnet and members of his team, were busy getting set up. At the same time, I was with the other task force commanders, reviewing the plan for the raid and rescue.

  Teams were assembled to first enter the property, then the villa itself. Seshat would be part of my team, while Ehren would be on Zeppelin’s.

  “Let’s suit up and move out,” Nemesis announced at twenty-three hundred hours. The plan was to enter the villa at zero hundred, or midnight. Ares was receiving information from the NRO in real time, confirming the hotspots inside the dwelling. Each represented a person. There was a brief period when their coverage was compromised, but they were working to restore the footage from backup overheads.

  Almost simultaneously with our arrival at the compound where the raid would take place, the live feeds showed several men piling into two SUVs. Canines accompanied each group.

  Cayman instructed Tank to take a team and tail them. Within minutes, he reported they went to the public beach that was adjacent to the property.

  “Thoughts?” I heard Ares ask through the comms.

  “It could be a trap,” Cayman responded. “Send backup.”

  “Send Vulcan and Beak from the UK team,” Nemesis ordered.

  “Roger that,” I confirmed. Both MI5 agents heard the command and deployed.

  Moments later, the three advance teams checked in, reporting we were all clear. Nemesis then issued the order for the groups entering the villas to move out.

  Once inside, Seshat and I went to the third floor along with Zeppelin’s team. Cayman, Poseidon, and their support went to the second floor. Z, Oleander, Verity, and other operatives were tasked with searching the rest of the villa for Mithras and those working on the property.

  Heartbreakingly, we found one woman in each room. They’d been drugged and shackled to the bed. Seshat checked their vitals once they had been freed from their chains. She reported each was likely given enough sedatives to ensure they’d remain unconscious for several hours but not enough to cause them permanent injury.

  “Medic! Medic!” we heard Poseidon shout through the comms. “Second floor! We need a medic now!”

  Seshat removed her headgear and handed it to me, then she pulled off her tactical suit as she ran toward the stairs. When I saw Ehren do the same thing, I knew that it was upon previous instruction from Magnet.

  “She’s been beaten within an inch of her life,” Poseidon said.

  I held my breath, waiting for confirmation that it either was or wasn’t Bexli.

  “It isn’t her,” Poseidon said.

  “You’re certain?” Cayman asked.

  “I promise you.”

  “We need to get her to the triage,” Seshat said while I continued to clear the third-floor rooms. All the women we found had been drugged and shackled, like the first we’d located. None, however, appeared to have been beaten.

  “Let’s continue transport to the triage area,” I instructed those still with me.

  When I arrived with one of the women, I saw Seshat and Ehren huddled over the one who’d been brutalized.

  “Poseidon said she was used as an example,” Seshat murmured when I approached.

  Over the course of the next hour, nineteen victims were rescued, none of whom were Bexli. And, while some arrests were made, Z’s team had not located Mithras.

  “That’s who they’re looking for,” said Cayman. I was sure he meant Bexli.

  “This is the most pathetic search I’ve ever seen,” Tank muttered.

  “All available hands deploy to the beach,” said Cayman, meaning those of us who weren’t assisting with triage.

  At the same time, the NRO sent the recovered footage to Ares. I was in the SUV with Cayman, and we watched as Bexli exited the villa, made her way through the forest, and over the seawall. The other thing we watched on the recovery of the missing fifteen minutes was Mithras. He was carried out of the villa on a stretcher and loaded into an SUV. According to the time stamp, we’d missed both Bexli’s escape and Mithras’ departure by a matter of minutes.

  “I can’t sit on my hands and do nothing,” Cayman said. He’d shut off his comms, but switched them on. “Nemesis, requesting permission to take down these fuckers.”

 

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