Chapter 2

Kegan had summarily slashed the man’s throat after learning what he needed to know. Then he’d washed off the blood spattered on his body and got dressed again, before going down stairs to join Tony. He found him in the large office off the waiting room.

“The safe is behind that bookcase,” Kegan said. “I hope you took care of any cameras and whatever?” When Tony rolled his eyes and nodded, Kegan went over to the bookcase, found the release catch, and the bookcase slid to one side. It took Tony several minutes to get the safe open, while Kegan stood watch from beside the closed office door.

Tony had almost finished emptying the contents of the safe into the messenger bag he’d brought with him when the office door slammed open. A low growl alerted them to the fact there was a dog coming into the room, just ahead of two armed men.

Kegan took the dog down with one well-placed kick to its head, then fired at the lead man, dropping him where he stood. Unfortunately, the second man got off two shots before Kegan ended his existence. Both shots hit Tony in the center of his chest.

“No! Damn it, no!” Kegan cried out, racing to Tony’s side, knowing even before he got there that it was too late. Blood flowed from the wounds, pooling on the floor beside his lover’s body. Kegan gathered Tony into his arms, whispering, “Why? Why you? You didn’t deserve to have your life end like this. Why did I…?”

Tony’s eyes opened. Kegan could barely hear him as Tony whispered, “It…wasn’t…wasn’t…your…Remember…” He gasped once, then died.

Kegan steeled himself against the pain and tears that threatened to overwhelm him. Softly he kissed Tony’s lips. “I’ll always remember.”

Then his training took over. He laid Tony down gently, picked up the bag then walked swiftly from the room—and the building—not caring that he was setting off the security system when he opened the front door. As soon as he got to where they’d left the car, he locked the bag in the trunk. Only then did he make the necessary call to his handler, via his secure phone.

“I have the information. It’s in the trunk of our car,” he said when Morse answered. “The target’s been eliminated.” He told Morse where to find the car, then said tightly, “Tony’s dead.”

“What the hell happened?” Morse asked angrily.

“I believed the bastard,” Kegan replied, still trying to keep his emotions in check. “I shouldn’t have.” He broke the connection. For a long moment, he stared down the street at the building, his hands clenched as the pain of Tony’s death swept over him. “This is it,” he whispered. “The end.” Turning away, he walked down the street, barely aware of the sound of approaching sirens. 2

Kegan was sure someone from the Agency would come looking for him when he didn’t show up for debriefing, but that was easily dealt with. He knew how to hide his tracks, take on a new persona, and get his hands on ID that would pass even the closest scrutiny. After all, that’s what he’d been trained to do—what he did as part of any job.

Finding a place to stay was not a problem, either. He’d planned for that contingency as a way to hide out if things went bad on a job. It was his secret. His and Tony’s. He hadn’t revealed it to anyone, even Morse. The cabin was in a remote area of the Rockies, fifteen miles from the nearest town. Kegan and Tony had found out about it three years ago, when they’d driven through a small town and stopped for breakfast at a diner just off the main street. They’d chatted up the waitress, asking her if there were any homes for sale in the area.

“Two,” she’d replied. “That I know of. One here in town and the other one…Well, I’m not sure you’d call it a home. It’s way the hell-and-gone up in the mountains. Somewhere off that road, or so they say.” She’d pointed to badly paved road barely visible through the trees outside the diner’s side window. “The old guy who owned it used it as a hunting cabin until he died. From what I’ve heard, his son, or maybe grandson—” she’d shrugged, “—decided it wasn’t worth the bother of doing anything to keep it up. It’s been on the market for, hell, ten years now, I think.”

Kegan had chuckled, telling her, “I don’t think that’s what we’re looking for.” But it had been exactly what they wanted, as they had found out when they drove up the road she’d indicated. It wound through the forest, the deteriorating pavement giving way to a dirt road and then a barely passable one, running through a narrow canyon, that was more ruts than anything else.