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Lachlan’s stomach churned and he felt the heat of James’s eyes on him.
“I hunted her for five years after she killed my friend, and my mentor, Fred,” James said and Lachlan’s chest tightened. He knew of Fred’s death and he’d been both shocked beyond belief and deeply saddened.
James continued. “But I’ve searched through every file we have and I can’t find any connection between you and Widow.”
Of course he couldn’t, Lachlan thought, because nothing had ever been recorded. Technically he’d never been assigned the job, but when Fred had asked him to find her, he’d agreed. Fred had been the one person he’d trusted in the CIA—like a father, almost. Lachlan got a call from Fred, two days after his wife’s murder. He hadn’t listened to it until three months later, and by that time Fred was dead and he couldn’t help but blame himself.
James looked at him expectantly, his piercing black eyes strangely intimidating. Lachlan couldn’t discuss this case without discussing Fred, and he didn’t know if that was a risk he could take.
“Fred called you two days before he died,” James said, his eyes softening. “I know you didn’t take the call—that it went to voicemail. As I think you’re aware, Black Widow leaves a mark on her victim. She pens a spider web on the base of her victim’s neck. One was found on Fred’s neck.” James eyes dropped to his hands, then he looked back at Lachlan. “I think Fred had you working on a case that was never officially approved. I can see your loyalty to him, by the way you’re refusing to speak now. You’re not sure if you can trust me and I get that. It also tells me he meant something to you.” He inhaled deeply then continued. “He meant something to me too; he was the closest thing I ever had to a father. But more than that, he was a friend and someone I trusted. He was the reason I came back to the CIA. And he’s the reason I am going to hunt her down and make her pay for killing him. I don’t go looking for trouble, but when trouble comes for me, I won’t lie down and take it. I will do this with or without you—I will not force you to help me, nor will I hold a grudge if you don’t.”
James eyes softened. “I know what it’s like to finally have a comfortable life—to finally have everything you want in life only for something, or someone, from your past threaten it all. But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that you can’t run from the threats. Face them, eliminate them, then go back to the life you love. That’s how we survive in this world.”
Lachlan studied him. He didn’t know if he could trust him, but he was also aware he had few options at this point. He could walk out of the office, but if Widow was hunting him, she’d find him sooner rather than later, and she might not only come for him.
“What do you want from me?” Lachlan asked. “You have an entire organization at your disposal. You don’t need me.”
“You have information I want, for one. Secondly, I have a plan to eliminate her but that plan will only work if you’re involved. I can’t substitute you, not for this,” he said, shaking his head.
It took Lachlan a second, then his eyes widened. “You want me as bait?”
“I want us both as bait,” James said, his black eyes twinkling.
JAMES
Lachlan stared at him, mute. James couldn’t blame him—Deacon and Samuel had had the same expression, or lack thereof, when he’d told them his plan.
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Lachlan eventually said.
James shook his head. “I’m not joking. I know it seems... bold, but Widow is slippery. We need to do something she’ll never expect. This is it.”
The corner of his lips turned up and Lachlan gave a choked laugh. “Well, yeah, because it’s madness.”
James shrugged. He’d made a career out of madness. “Welcome to my life,” he said, grinning. “This is a lot to ask, I know. So I want you to think about it. You don’t have to give me an answer now. Sleep on it and let me know in the morning. In the meantime, I want you to meet the team because if we do this, the team watching our backs will be the people who keep us alive. I trust few people, very few, and they’re all on the rooftop having dinner. There’s someone in particular who wants to meet you.”
“Samuel?” Lachlan asked, his eyes widening. “You know every time he’s emailed me, his email signature is different. Last time it wasThe Joker.”
James chuckled. “I did not know that, but I can’t say I’m entirely surprised. Samuel is the... kindest, smartest, most loyal person I know. When people meet him for the first time, he’s a little quiet. He’s not great at opening up to new people but he’s gotten a lot better over the years. The fact that he said he wanted to meet you surprised us all, to be honest. Samuel is a genius, and somewhat of a recluse—he keeps a very tight circle. He speaks highly of you, he says you’re like one of us.”
Lachlan gave a small smile. “What does that mean? One of us?”
James met his gaze. “It means you’ve been through hell and survived. I’ve read every detail in your file, multiple times. I needed to know I can trust the decisions you’ll make, and from everything I’ve seen thus far, I’d say we’re more alike than you’d like to admit.” James paused, searching his eyes. “I know it’s hard to look at the person you were—the person who was one of the CIA’s most lethal killers—and reconcile that with the man you want to be. But I’m telling you now, if you take this mission, you need to be that man. Go back there one last time, clean up this mess, then go back to your life. If you don’t, there’s no guarantee this won’t follow you to Redwater and destroy the life you’ve built and the people you love. Widow takes no prisoners, you know this. She will eliminate everyone in her path and I won’t stand back and let that happen, not to the people I love. I don’t think you will either. The decision is yours, and only yours, to make. But I need you all in, or all out. This doesn’t work any other way.”
Lachlan inhaled deeply. “I promised myself I would never return to the CIA, never return to the man who killed so easily—and enjoyed it.”
James nodded slowly. “Well, if it helps, technically you’re not returning to the CIA. You’d be a contract agent on this job without an official contract,” James said.
“Slight technicality,” Lachlan said, raising an eyebrow. He looked over the office then eyed James. “Nothing looks like the old CIA. New headquarters, new boss, but the mission is still the same: kill. Kill mercilessly.”
James studied him a moment. “Yes,” he said. He would show Widow no mercy. “But killing is not black and white, we both know that. We kill when we need to, not for the fun of it, even if we do enjoy it. Some might say that death is still death, but they live in the world we kill in to protect them. They live a life sheltered from reality—from the reality we keep at bay, hidden in the shadows so that they never have to face it. That’s our job.”
James folded his hands on the table, a grin spreading over his lips. “Do you know something funny? My wife is a criminal prosecutor,” he continued, sure that Lachlan already knew that. “So, you can imagine some of the debates we have had about this topic, about the death penalty, about so many things...” He shook his head, still smiling. “But even she, over the years, has had to face the reality that sometimes we need to get our hands dirty to protect society. I’m not saying we always get it perfect, because we don’t.”
“No, we don’t get it perfect,” Lachlan said, shaking his head. “Far from it.”
James nodded understandingly. “Do you know what scares me most about Widow?” he asked, then continued without waiting for an answer. “I don’t truly know what she’s capable of. She was in hiding; we thought she was dead,” he said, his eyes dropping to the photo.
Lachlan’s eyebrows wove together. “You thought she was dead? Why?”
