Game of Dust and Ashes (Book Two in the Covert Operations series)

Six

Some people knew the truth. The CIA agent who'd let me leave the States five years earlier was one. She'd sent me on my way with a warning about who, aside from Scorpion, was after my neck. Of course, now that she was out of office, my head was once again on the chopping block here in American but that was really nothing new. MI6 had, for the most part, had stopped pursuing me but I doubted that they would let me off if I just so happened to turn up on their doorstep.

"It's a long story," I said. "I asked you before not to judge me until you've heard the whole thing. I'm not saying I didn't do the things that you read about because I did. But it's not what you think, Cedric. I'm not a terrorist. I'm not hateful or cruel. I didn't kill for enjoyment but rather necessity and self-defence. If you hear what I have to say and never want to speak to me again, fine. I'll vanish out of your life forever and you will never once see my face in front of you."

Cedric breathed deeply on the other end and I could practically hear him weighing the options to hang up on me or to listen to what I had to say in his head. Finally, he said, "Well, go on then."

And I did.

I told him everything. How my father had met Randall Walker during his time at Oaks Academy and had willingly agreed to become a double agent within Scorpion for the GCCO. How my mother had been sent in to make sure he hadn't turned rogue and they'd fallen in love and had me. I told him about the plans for the biological virus attack designed to start World War Three and how they'd surrendered me to my aunt and uncle for safe-keeping as they sought to keep the blueprints out of Scorpions hands.

Then, I told him about how I came to be at Oaks. I lamented briefly about my time at school and the attacks on my life in my final year, how my mother had died in a hit-and-run and how after I returned for her funeral my father was murdered. I paced around the room as I talked, telling him about Wes being kidnapped, setting my father free and saving my brother, killing Randall Walker in the process. Finally I told him about how, after Wes had been saved, the hospital my friends had been recovering in was bombed and not everybody made it out alive.

As I'd spoken, Cedric had been completely silent, listening intently. I knew he was making internal notes, dissecting every word and turn-of-phrase that I used. But he was listening and, I hoped, accepting what I had to say as true.

I ran out of things to say. My story was done and the ball was now in his court. It was me holding my breath now, waiting to hear what the verdict would be and whether or not I would need to be keeping a low profile to avoid getting caught by local police or CIA agents here in Manhattan while we looked for Daniel.

I listened to Cedric breathing on the other end of the line. I stayed silent, giving him a moment to process all that I'd said. My heart was racing erratically within my chest, beating so fast that I worried I might go into cardiac arrest.

"Helena can corroborate what I've told you," I said after nearly two minutes of complete silence. "I told her the exact same story when I first came to the GCCO. She did a bunch of research, went through other government channels and agents and managed to piece together that what I said was true."

"There's no need for that," Cedric said. "I believe you."

"You do?" Even I could hear the surprise in my voice.

"Yes. I've been living with you for the past six months and covering you for a year. I know how you sound when you lie."

I swallowed thickly. "Oh."

"I do have questions," he remarked.

"Ask away."

Cedric paused. "What are you really doing in New York? What case are you working and why did it take you so long to get there?"