Page 46 of The Ghost

“Ashcroft will be there,” Lukas assured me.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“I know him. I grew up with him. He’s not the kind of person to abandon ship,” Lukas reasoned. “And don’t forget, they think they have the key. They think it’s still in Clark’s shoulder.”

“But that puts Clark in more danger,” I remarked, not liking the connotations. I had been on the fence as to whether to go back for her when Z explained what happened. Things were moving so fast, and I’d had to make a decision in the moment. But I didn’t like hanging our hat on Clark. That put too much pressure on her from both sides of the battle.

At least they wouldn’t do anything crazy if they thought she was vital to their cause. But then the glass-half-empty side of me whispered that they didn’t think they actually needed Clark, just the key. What was to stop them from killing her or attempting to remove it by force?

Lukas saw where I was going, even though I didn’t say anything. He put a hand on my knee and squeezed. “She’ll be okay. She’s more than just a vehicle to Ashcroft. He chose her because he genuinely respects her. He’ll try to convince her to play along before he’ll do anything to hurt her.”

I nodded, allowing the words to sink in. They made sense. The last interaction we’d had with Ashcroft bore them out. He’d wanted her to get into the helicopter, yet he’d made no move to shoot her. He seemed to want her help with his crazy scheme, and maybe that was the key to his downfall.

“I just want to get out of this alive,” I said morosely. “It didn’t used to matter. I could run into a burning building and figure if it was my time, it was my time. Now I’ve got something to live for.”

“Clark?” Lukas guessed.

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “We’re going to retire together. Did she tell you?”

“I hope you make it,” Lukas said.

“I hope so too. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to her.” I tried not to picture her alone in enemy hands. The fact that Ashcroft was employing Ryan to do his dirty work was like a kick in the nuts. I didn’t like the idea of Clark sitting alone in a bedroom with him, much less being held at gunpoint.

The truck pulled up to a dock where several small motorboats were waiting. All the troops disembarked, separating themselves into groups of six without any formal instruction. I chose a boat with Lukas and four others, easing it into the water under the cover of night.

Lukas pulled on the rip cord, jetting out into the channel. It was about an hour to our destination, the last part of which we would have to go without engines. We found a box of gear stashed at the bow, and one of the operatives passed it out.

I received a pair of gloves and a hood to cover my head. There was also a set of infrared googles and a weapon with a scope. Everything needed for a midnight assault was there at our fingertips. We were going in hot, preparing to bring the fight to them. It was about time to end their little charade and set the world back on a path to prosperity. All we had to do was wipe Ashcroft off the map and our problems would be solved.

The time for idle chatter was over. I no longer had the luxury to regret my decisions. The only thing that mattered now was action. We had to stop New Dawn from setting off their bombs and destroying life as we knew it. And in the process, we had to rescue Clark from the clutches of her foster father.

Of course, if she had anything to say about it, she probably wouldn’t need rescuing. That was one thing we had going for us: Clark’s ability to kill. There had never been a similarly talented assassin, as far as I knew. If Ryan thought it would be smooth sailing with her as a captive, he was sadly mistaken. I almost wanted to see his face when he realized that he was the one in trouble. But then, I would just have to kill him, and that would take all the fun out of Clark’s revenge.

Chapter 21

Clark

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BRIGHT LIGHT THUNDERED into my eyes as a burlap cover was ripped off my head. Everything was foggy for a moment until I recovered my senses. It took me a moment to retrace my steps. Ryan had cornered me in the hallway after Z ran off. He’d hit me over the head, and I’d passed out.

I tested my wrists, feeling like they were pinned behind me. A wide swath of tape cut into my bones, wound so tightly it was almost messing with my circulation. My palms tingled, but I tried to focus on the good news. It would be easier to get out as long as it was only tape. Something like a zip tie or a pair of handcuffs would be much harder.

I got to work, inching my wrists forward and back to create space. At the same time, I focused on what was in front of me. Blinking a few times, I brought the world into focus.

I was sitting in some kind of sun room, but it wasn’t a weekend retreat. I could vaguely see some kind of instrument panels to my left and my right, but the bulk of the view was taken up by a set of floor-to-ceiling windows.

The entire room was a brilliant white with fluorescent lighting in the background. The sky outside was gray, but there was enough sun to see by. The landscape outside was impressive. Beautiful but cold, I could see rocks jutting out from the base of a cliff. At the very bottom, a small beach led straight to a violent sea. It was just the kind of place where tragic figures in ancient legends went to die.

I hoped it wasn’t the last thing I would see. Although it was designed to be impressive, I guessed that the glass was shatterproof. No one in my line of work would think otherwise. I had to believe that I was being held captive by Ryan or Mr. Ashcroft or both. Neither of them would set themselves up for such an easy kill. If there was a sniper outside, they would have full view of everything we were doing. No, the cliff wasn’t the danger. My killer was already inside the room.

They’d left me ungagged. That was probably professional courtesy. They knew I wasn’t going to scream or try to draw attention to myself that way. I could feel the absence of a gun on my hip. That was more important. When I did manage to get my hands free, I would have to “borrow” a weapon to get myself out of the situation.

“Welcome to my new home,” Mr. Ashcroft said, appearing from behind me with a sinister flourish. “I wish it was under better circumstances.”

All the emotions that his voice brought up jammed in my throat. If he was anyone else, I would have responded with a sarcastic quip, but for my former foster parent, I had nothing.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked.