The Gemini Deception

Chapter Thirty-two

Burke, Virginia

Shield drove slowly past the safe house. The cracker-box home was dark, and the overgrown yard, if it could even be called a yard, told her it hadn’t been used in a while.

The isolated safe house was near the northern edge of Lake Accotink Park, an enormous wooded area big enough to get lost in. She skirted the edge of the park for nearly three miles before she began looking seriously for a good dump site.

She’d hoped to hide the van among the trees, but every possible avenue she explored had problems or carried too much risk of immediate discovery. She spotted the solution in an enormous car dealership coming up on the right. Shield followed the signs to the service department around back and parked in a lot filled with older vehicles waiting to be repaired or picked up by their owners. “Let’s go,” she told Wagner as she slid the keys under the front mat. “Follow me closely, keep quiet, and don’t draw attention to yourself.”

After a two-block jog they were inside the tree line at the edge of the park. They’d made it there unobserved, fortunately, because the bloodstain on Wagner’s light-blue hoodie was getting too large to ignore. Since it was still much too early for park visitors, Shield kept to the main path that led north through the woods, confident they wouldn’t be seen. Still, she remained quiet, alert to any noise or sign of movement ahead or behind them. Though it was black as pitch out, they could move quickly because the pathway was wide and had been paved for bicycles. Wagner did a good job of keeping up, though she was breathing heavily.

The one-story safe house, set a good distance from any neighboring homes, was sadly neglected, with peeling paint, an iffy roof, and a driveway of cracked concrete and tall weeds. All the curtains were drawn, and every window was opaque with filth. From the look of it, it might have been years since anyone had last used the residence for any significant amount of time.

Shield hoped they’d at least find a working phone.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Wagner bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. The sleeve where she’d been shot was saturated with blood.

“There’s nothing else around.”

“What’s this house supposed to be?”

“A safe house is a place where ops or agents can find refuge until further notice or a place to hide witnesses.”

Wagner straightened and stared at the sagging porch. “It looks…spooky.”

“As long as we find a phone, I don’t care what the house looks like.” Shield tried the front door, the Walther at the ready. Locked. Wagner stayed close behind her as she made her way around to the back. The back exit was locked as well, but the wood was so warped there was a gap between the door and frame, enough to pop it open with the security keycard from her wallet. The Russian goons who’d overpowered them in the tunnel had taken only her Glock.

“Wait here,” she told Wagner. She slipped inside and slid her hand along the wall until she found a light switch. She flipped it on, relieved when a dim bulb came to life, illuminating a small, sparsely furnished kitchen.

She turned on more lights and looked around, giving the half dozen rooms a thorough check in the space of a couple of minutes. Two small bedrooms, one bath, a living room, dining room, and kitchen. Although everything was dusty and worn, the place did indeed conform to the usual safe-house standards: it was isolated, with a good view of the surrounding area, and had multiple exits and basic, functional furniture. Little else, except for a few kitchenware items and minimal bedding and towels. The less clutter in a place like this, the better. It was easier to tell immediately if anyone had been there and changed anything, and it was tougher to conceal cameras or listening devices.

Many safe houses also had a place to hide things—weapons, documents, even people. Did this one? For the moment, her priority was the phone she spotted on the end table beside the couch. “You can come in,” she called out to Wagner.

Wagner, hugging herself, came in from the kitchen and looked around. “At least we’re safe for now,” she said with evident dismay.

“Have the White House luxuries spoiled the florist?” Shield knew she was out of line, but she didn’t care. Wagner had proved to be a liar working for a dangerous woman named TQ, a woman she’d turned a blind eye to knowing anything about, and Shield was fed up with her lies and games. She didn’t even know why she’d helped Wagner escape.

“My name is Ryden,” Wagner replied angrily. “And no, the White House and everything about it is a nightmare I hope to one day forget.”

“Then get comfortable. I don’t know how long we’ll have to stay here.”

“I thought they were coming to get us.”

“That depends on what’s going on at headquarters and whether they think it’s safe.”

“When are you going to call them?”

“As soon as I figure out what to tell them.”

“What do you mean?”

Shield locked the door and took a seat on the couch. “I want you to tell me what the hell is going on—who this TQ is and how she involved you. And then I want to know how the hell you pulled this off.”

“Look,” Wagner replied, as she sat on an armchair to Shield’s left, “I know you’re angry and you have every reason to be, but I did what I had to, to stay alive.”

“The only reason you’re alive, that both of us are alive, is by the grace of a complete stranger. I don’t understand why she helped us, but we owe her our lives.” Shield tried to keep her voice steady and not let her bottled-up anger take over. “What you did—your lies and deceptions, kidnapping the president and getting innocent people killed in the process, and then trying to seduce me to throw me off track—is not why you’re still alive.”

“They promised me freedom,” Wagner said coldly. “And I did not try to seduce you.”

“Stop repeating that ridiculous mantra. Did you really think they’d let a nobody live to tell what happened? High-profile people have been permanently silenced for a lot less. Do you have any idea how ludicrous you sound?”

“What the hell was I supposed to do? Go to jail and wait for death? Do you think I went looking for them, for this whole absurd weirdness?” Wagner winced. “They framed me, killed my customer and his ex-wife with my stem cutter, and placed it back in my shop where the police found it covered in blood. I didn’t stand a chance.”

“Didn’t you get a lawyer?”

“A fancy-looking one came to me while I was being held for questioning. Initially, I thought my colleague sent him. I’d asked her to find me a lawyer, a pro bono one. Some guy in an expensive suit showed up instead and got me out then took me to his equally expensive office, where he told me if I refused to work for his client they’d provide solid evidence against me. Witnesses who saw me being intimate with the victim on various occasions.”

“Were you?”

“With Tim? No. Never. I hardly knew the man.”

“Who hired this lawyer to represent you?”

“He never said, but as time went by and they started to operate and school me, this woman would call to check on my progress. She never said so, but I know she was the client the lawyer had referred to. She was behind it all.”

“Was TQ her name?”

“She never mentioned a name,” Wagner replied. “No one ever mentioned their name, except for the woman who trained me, taught me manners, how to talk, sound, walk, politics, how to hold a damn fork, and every other little thing.”

“How do you know this woman who called was the brain behind this scheme?”

“Just the way she talked to me. Like it was up to her to decide whether my transformation was successful and I was ready to proceed with what they wanted from me. It wasn’t until I was ready for the job that they revealed who I was to double.”

“The president.”

“I only realized after the swelling from the operations had gone down and they let me look at myself for the first time in the mirror.”

“This woman—”

“It looks like she knows or owns a lot of people in high places, including Moore,” Wagner went on. “That’s why I was terrified to talk to you or even suggest what was going on. The woman gets personal invites to the White House. That should tell you how powerfully dangerous she is. Christ, I wouldn’t be surprised if she owned the place.”

“How do you know she gets invites?”

“Because that’s where I finally put a face to the voice. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.”

Shield sat forward. “You what?”

“She was invited to the state dinner for the Argentine president, and Moore introduced us. She came especially to check on me.”

“I saw her.” Shield remembered the older, attractive woman who’d arrived late.

“It was because of her I needed to get away and collect myself. You came to my room that night and we almost kissed…” Wagner went silent.

“The woman with the white hair.”

“And you didn’t have the pleasure of talking to her. She has the coldest voice and deadest eyes I’ve ever seen. My skin crawled when I touched her hand. It was like ice.”

Shield got up. “Who is she?”

“According to the guest list I studied and Rat…Moore…her name is Theodora Rothschild.”

Shield ran her hand through her hair as she stared at the floor. “I know that name, but from where?” she said to herself.

“Of the Rothschild Auction Houses.”

“The auction…you must be kidding.”

“Why?”

“She’s a client of mine,” Shield said. “Her secretary places orders directly to Tuscany.”

“But she doesn’t know you.”

Shield was still in disbelief. Rothschild was a huge name in the auction business, and although probably a wealthy individual, the woman had the power to own politicians and organize crimes of this magnitude? “Why would she? I’ve never dealt directly with her, and for privacy and security reasons due to my job with the EOO, I kept my company under Pepo’s name. The original owner.”

“But I swear I don’t know who this TQ is that that woman who saved us accused me of working for.”

Shield was lost in thought. “Huh? Yeah, the name doesn’t mean anything to me, either.”

She reached over and picked up the phone. “But maybe my employer knows.” Thankfully, she got a dial tone. “Shield, 29041971. Put me through to Pierce ASAP.”

*

Southwestern Colorado

Montgomery Pierce sat in his favorite armchair while Joanne massaged his shoulders.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised the grave was empty,” he said.

The op they’d sent to Kansas to check on Dario’s supposedly dead sister had confirmed Chase’s suspicions. Chase hadn’t sounded at all surprised when Monty called to tell her but had tried to reassure him they at least had something to go on. First thing tomorrow morning, she was going to Kansas herself to find anyone who knew the Imperis.

Reno had been assigned to find any adoption papers from the period that matched, but so far, his attempts had been fruitless. The baby had probably been sold, and no legal papers were ever drawn.

Monty sighed and looked up at Joanne. “We have to find someone who knew the parents. Someone must know—” The ringing of his telephone cut him off. He jumped up to answer it.

“You can’t keep this up, Monty,” Joanne said as he reached for it. “I’m worried, too, but you’re going to give yourself a heart attack if your blood pressure hits the ceiling every time the phone rings.”

“I’m fine. Stop coddling me.” He put the receiver to his ear. “Any news?”

“I have Shield on the phone.”

Monty took the receiver with him back to the armchair. “Put her through.”

He listened while Shield explained what had happened and how she’d gotten away. Halfway during the whole bizarre story he put the speakerphone on for Joanne, who was going crazy with his exclamations.

“I’ll be damned,” he said. “A fake president.”

“A very convincing one,” Shield said. “Do you know Theodora Rothschild?”

“Who?” he asked.

“Of the Rothschild Auction Houses. She’s the one who framed and hired Wagner, and unless someone finds her, she will not stop looking for us. We’re the only ones who know who she is and what she’s done, and she’s looking at terrorist charges. You know what that means.”

“Where are you now?” he asked.

“We’re at this abandoned safe house a few miles from Washington.”

“You don’t mean the one in Burke?”

“That’s the one,” Shield confirmed.

“How did you know about it?” he asked. “It’s exclusively EOO, but we haven’t used it in a decade or more.”

“It looks it. This woman who helped us escape told me where to find it.”

“How did she know?”

“I have no clue.”

Monty looked at Joanne to see whether she knew about an agent under cover in the area. She shook her head, as mystified as he was. “What’s her name?” he asked Shield.

“She wouldn’t say. I asked her to come with us, but she said she had to stay or they’d kill her. She said she was working for the same woman as Wagner, someone named TQ. But Wagner says she’s never heard of a TQ. You know, for a while I thought our helper was one of ours in deep cover—she used the EOO mantra to signal me.”

“By any means necessary?” Monty said distractedly.

“I offered to help her. Told her my people would protect her, but—”

“But what?”

“It was strange, but she said my people don’t give a damn about her.”

Joanne gasped. “What did she look like?”

“Dark hair, cut kinda short,” Shield replied. “She had green eyes, and a scar from her cheek to the corner of her mouth.”

“Oh, my God!” Joanne cried out.

“One of the men called her Silent Death.”

“Jaclyn,” Monty said aloud, stunned.

“As in Harding?” Shield sounded surprised.

“Jaclyn is alive,” Monty mumbled, and leaned back, ignoring the question.

“She saved my life,” Shield said.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“Probably long gone by now. Somewhere at a hospital, I would think.”

Monty gripped the armrest. “What do you mean?”

“After she gave us the keys to the van, she shot herself in the leg to make it look like I did it when she tried to stop us.”

“Are you sure this Wagner doesn’t know TQ?”

“She’s admitted to everything else,” Shield replied.

“It sounds like TQ and Rothschild are somehow connected, work together,” Joanne said. He nodded. “Rothschild should be easy enough to find.”

“She’s a customer of mine,” Shield offered. “She buys crates of wine directly from Tuscany.”

“I doubt she has it shipped to her home. People like Rothschild use in-between addresses,” Monty said. “Stay where you are until further notice. This TQ bitch means business. If she has to crawl under rocks to find you, she will.”

“Harding made that clear when she sent us to the safe house.”

“I’ll call when I have something.”

“They took my cell,” Shield said. “I don’t know the number here.”

“I do.” Monty hung up.

“What do we do about Wagner and the president?” Joanne asked.

“Thomas was returned to office hours ago,” he replied. “So far she hasn’t said anything about her kidnapping.”

“She probably won’t talk if she wants to keep her credibility.”

“And life,” Monty added.

“We do nothing,” Joanne concluded, “unless it becomes our business.”

“My business right now is to find Jaclyn.”