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“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“How did you work for him? How don’t you know what he looks like?”
“It was never in person,” he says, staring at the floor in front of his feet. “We only ever spoke via encrypted computer communications or through telephone calls. He was my handler, my direct superior. I didn’t know who and what he was for a very long time, at least until he tried to kill me.”
I sink down into a chair. I’m so jittery, I can’t move, like my body’s falling into a catatonic state since it can’t move in all directions at once.
“Just tell me,” I whisper.
“It was a retrieval mission. Break into the file system of a rogue mercenary company operating in Syria, download their files, bring them back to a meeting point. The work went well, I finished my mission, but at the final drop point there was only a single person waiting for me with a gun. I took a bullet to the chest and would have taken another to the head if I hadn’t killed my attacker first. I nearly died that night, and from then on, I swore I’d find Burian and kill him for what he did to me.”
I close my eyes, hug my knees to my chest. “I thought this was about taking out a bad man.”
“It is about that.”
“No, this is revenge for you.”
“It’s both.”
I draw in a slow breath. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me now.”
I cock my head, opening my eyes. “And how’s that?”
“With disgust.” He leans back, arms crossed over his broad chest. “My motives might not be pure. I want to hurt Burian for hurting me, but I’m not wrong when I say the world will be better without him.”
“You’re using me.” I whisper the words softly. “You’re dragging me through this hell for your own personal vendetta.”
“Would you have helped if I had told you that up front?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But at least I would have been given a choice.”
His jaw works. “You would’ve acted like everything I said was biased and worthwhile, but I’m not wrong. Yes, I want to hurt Burian for what he did to me, but he’s still murdering FBI agents. He’s still a psychopath. He’s still dangerous.”
I finally stand, unable to take this. “You should’ve told me.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“But you didn’t. And I guess we can’t do anything about it now.” I walk to the kitchen and lean against the island, my back to him. “What else have you kept from me?”
“A lot,” he says quietly. “But nothing that’s important here.”
“I’m not sure I trust your judgment there.”
“You want all my dirty laundry? My whole list of sins? We’ll be here a long time, Renata.”
“Then start talking.”
He slowly stands. I tremble as he comes toward me and flinch when he reaches out. For a moment, his hand hovers in the air between us, but it drops away. “I’ve been as honest as I know how to be,” he says, tone pained. “I’ve been a spy and a thief for a very long time.”
“I thought we had something.”
“We do. We still do.”
“I’m not sure that’s true anymore.” I move past him. He takes a step closer, but I shake my head. “Albatross. Okay? Do you hear me? Albatross, Lanzo. Albatross.”
He grimaces like I’ve punched him in the throat, but he doesn’t follow when I walk back to the extra bedroom, shut the door, and lock it.
