Chapter 5 - THE TRAITOR AT TABLE NINEThe wedding reception continued.
The second wasn't.
Rachel grabbed Alexander's arm.
“What is that?”
Voss smiled.
I kept my eyes on his hands.
“Don't move.”
One of his men laughed.
“You're giving orders now?”
“Yes.”
He stopped laughing.
There's a tone people recognize.
Soldiers recognize it.
Criminals recognize it.
People who spend their lives around danger understand when someone in the room is no longer pretending.
I pointed toward the floor.
“Emil, if that's an explosive device, you die too.”
Voss's smile widened.
“I didn't say it was explosive.”
That frightened me more.
The beeping continued.
Every four seconds.
Regular.
Mechanical.
I scanned the room.
Wedding gifts lined three tables.
Silver cases.
Wooden boxes.
Ceremonial objects.
Artwork.
A large carved clock.
Then I noticed something beneath the central table.
A diplomatic transport case.
Temperature-controlled.
The same case from the security alert.
I slowly crouched.
One operative lifted his weapon.
Voss raised a hand.
“Let her look.”
I studied the case.
Digital temperature display.
Internal cooling.
A small secondary unit wired into the lock.
“Biological?” I asked.
Voss said nothing.
“Chemical?”
Silence.
Alexander's voice hardened.
“You brought poison into my wedding?”
Voss finally looked at him.
“Your wedding is incidental.”
Rachel flinched.
He noticed.
For the first time, his expression softened.
“Rachel.”
“Don't call me that.”
“It is your name.”
“My sister calls me that.”
Those words hit me unexpectedly.
Rachel looked at me.
Her eyes were full of terror.
But also something I hadn't seen from her in months.
Trust.
I moved closer to the case.
The display showed thirty-nine degrees Fahrenheit.
Rising.
Whatever was inside required refrigeration.
“Vale,” I whispered through my radio.
Nothing.
Signal interference.
Voss watched.
“I prepared for your tricks.”
“So did I.”
His eyes narrowed.
I pulled the tiny emergency beacon from my belt and dropped it casually behind a chair.
Old technology.
Hardwired pulse transmitter.
Very difficult to jam.
Hopefully Vale would detect it.
Voss walked toward Rachel.
Alexander moved again.
“Stay away from her.”
Voss looked almost amused.
“You believe you're protecting her?”
“I am her husband.”
“And I am her father.”
Rachel stepped around Alexander.
“No.”
Voss stared at her.
“My parents are Thomas and Evelyn Carter.”
“They were caretakers.”
“My father taught me how to ride a bicycle.”
Voss's jaw tightened.
“My mother stayed beside my bed when I had pneumonia.”
“You were stolen.”
“My sister drove six hours through a snowstorm because I called her crying after college.”
Voss's gaze flicked toward me.
Rachel continued.
“They are my family.”
Something changed in Voss's face.
The fantasy he had carried for decades was colliding with a woman who refused to become the daughter he had imagined.
His hand tightened around the remote.
The beeping accelerated.
“Emil.”
He looked at me.
“You don't want this.”
“Don't tell me what I want.”
“You wanted your daughter returned.”
“She was stolen!”
“Maybe.”
King Adrian's voice came from the doorway.
Everyone turned.
He stood alone.
No visible guards.
Voss's face went pale with rage.
“Adrian.”
The King entered.
“Emil.”
Rachel looked from one man to the other.
“What is happening?”
Adrian's eyes settled on her.
“I owe you the truth.”
Voss laughed bitterly.
“Twenty-five years late.”
“I was trying to keep her alive.”
“You destroyed my family.”
“You destroyed Sophia.”
Silence.
Voss's face went rigid.
“Careful.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“She discovered what you were doing.”
“She betrayed me.”
“She was going to expose you.”
“She was my wife.”
“She was terrified of you.”
Voss raised the remote.
The room erupted in movement.
His operative nearest the door lifted his weapon.
Alexander pushed Rachel down.
I drew.
A deafening crack hit the ceiling.
Plaster rained.
The second operative aimed at me.
Then the hidden side door exploded inward.
Commander Vale and three protection officers stormed through.
“DOWN!”
The room became chaos.
Guests screamed.
Queen Helena dropped behind a marble table.
One attacker was tackled.
The second fired.
I hit the floor and rolled behind a chair.
Two shots.
A scream.
Then silence.
I looked up.
Vale stood over the second attacker.
“Clear!”
But Voss still held the remote.
And his thumb was on the trigger.
“Back!” he shouted.
Everyone froze.
He backed toward Rachel.
“Come with me.”
Rachel stared at him.
“No.”
“Rachel.”
“No.”
“You don't understand.”
“I understand enough.”
Voss's eyes filled with something dangerously close to desperation.
“I spent twenty-five years looking for you.”
“And you came to my wedding with armed men.”
“To reveal the truth.”
“You threatened my husband.”
“He is part of the family that stole you.”
“He's my husband.”
“You don't know these people!”
Rachel's voice suddenly rose.
“And you don't know me!”
Voss flinched.
The beeping from the case became constant.
I looked at the temperature.
Forty-six degrees.
Whatever process had begun was nearing its threshold.
“Emil, open the case.”
He ignored me.
“Open it.”
“No.”
“If you're trying to prove Adrian stole your daughter, killing her won't help.”
His eyes moved toward the case.
There.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For Rachel.
I had him.
“What's inside?”
He swallowed.
“Evidence.”
“What kind?”
“Biological samples.”
I stared.
“Sophia's?”
He said nothing.
“Your wife's remains?”
Rachel made a sound behind me.
Voss closed his eyes.
Adrian whispered, “My God.”
Voss finally answered.
“DNA samples. Original medical records. Blood evidence from the night she died.”
The temperature warning wasn't a bomb.
It was destroying evidence.
A failsafe.
“If the temperature reaches fifty?”
“The samples degrade.”
“And why would you destroy your own proof?”
His gaze turned toward Adrian.
“Because if I couldn't tell the truth, nobody would.”
I almost admired the paranoia.
Almost.
“Give me the remote.”
“No.”
“Emil.”
“You are the reason I failed six years ago.”
“I saved a man you tried to murder.”
“I was trying to stop him.”
“With an IED.”
“History is written by whoever survives.”
“Then survive this.”
I slowly holstered my weapon.
Vale stared at me.
I walked toward Voss.
He raised the remote.
“Stop.”
I didn't.
“Major Carter.”
“Six years ago, you had a chance to kill me.”
His jaw tightened.
“You remember?”
“You stood on the ridge.”
Voss's eyes changed.
Nobody else in the room understood.
After the Kandahar ambush, I had seen a figure through the smoke.
A man observing.
He could have fired.
He didn't.
“I wondered why,” I continued.
“Stop.”
“You weren't there to kill Adrian.”
“No.”
“You were there to force him to reveal Rachel's location.”
Adrian inhaled sharply.
Voss looked at the King.
“You lied to me for nineteen years.”
“I protected her.”
“You erased her.”
I stopped six feet away.
“You never killed me because I wasn't part of it.”
Voss said nothing.
“And you're not going to kill Rachel now.”
His hand trembled.
“Give me the remote.”
The room seemed to hold its breath.
Then Rachel stood.
Alexander tried to stop her.
She gently moved his hand away.
“Rachel—”
She walked toward Voss.
He stared at her.
She was crying now.
Not dramatically.
Silently.
“You want me to know who I am?”
His lips parted.
“Yes.”
“Then let me choose what happens next.”
She held out her hand.
“Give it to Eleanor.”
For twenty-five years, Emil Voss had been fighting kings, intelligence agencies and ghosts.
But he couldn't fight his daughter.
His shoulders lowered.
The remote slipped into Rachel's palm.
She handed it to me.
I entered the cancellation sequence Vale shouted from the device technician now kneeling beside the case.
The beeping stopped at forty-nine degrees.
One degree from destruction.
Vale exhaled.
The room relaxed.
Then Voss looked at Rachel.
“Can I tell you about your mother?”
Rachel wiped her cheek.
“Not today.”
His face broke.
Protection officers approached.
He didn't resist as they cuffed him.
But just before Vale led him away, Voss turned toward me.
“You still don't understand.”
I frowned.
“What?”
He looked toward Rachel.
“I didn't send the message telling you not to come.”
Cold ran through me.
“What?”
Voss almost smiled.
“Someone else wanted you away from this wedding.”
Vale stopped.
I pulled out the secure phone.
The threatening message was still there.
DO NOT COME TO THE WEDDING, MAJOR CARTER.
Voss lowered his voice.
“And unlike me, Eleanor…”
May you like
His eyes moved toward the ballroom.
“…they are still inside.”
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