When Death Frees the Devil Read online

  “They’re not just going to let you go this time,” Zero said. “They have contingencies.”

  An alert told Ethan he’d received an image. Dreading the portent in Zero’s words, he closed his eyes and slipped sideways. The image appeared on his overlay.

  A daylight picture of a single storey house with a solitary dark-green bush in an otherwise empty yard. The walls were white stucco and the roof peaked, tiled in red, orange and yellow. An older model mid-sized SUV was in the short driveway and a woman stood beside it, green bags of shopping in both hands. She was perhaps in her late thirties, her long black hair pulled up in a neat ponytail, the skin between her brows wrinkled as she frowned. Even if the brown colour of her skin and the shape of her nose and cheekbones hadn’t been sign enough, the expression told Ethan who she was.

  Meera Reardon scowled exactly like her younger brother did. Jack’s niece, a lighter skinned, younger image of her mother, laughed exactly like him. Matilda walked ahead of Meera, phone in one hand, the other swinging a brightly coloured shopping bag.

  And the crosshairs of the rifle’s site were centred right on the teenager’s head.

  Ethan’s heart froze. The time stamp on the image said it had been taken at four fifty-one the previous afternoon.

  Grimly, he asked, “Are they still alive?”

  “Yes, but Seven is in place to rectify that if required.”

  Of course Seven was there. She was the Cabal’s South East Asian operative and if it hadn’t been for Samuel Valadian’s well-known feelings about women, would have been the one sent to investigate and kill him. She was a brilliant hacker and could have undoubtedly found out everything the Cabal wanted to know, if Valadian would have ever let her do more than entertain him between the sheets. Instead, they’d sent Ethan. He, too, had had to let the target use him in bed, but being male, Valadian had also accepted that Ethan was capable of other tasks, as well.

  Ethan often wondered how things would have turned out if Seven had gone to Valadian. She was, as they all were, an accomplished assassin, but her other skills far outstripped those she had for killing. Still, Ethan knew the moment she’d cleared Jack of being the Meta-State traitor, she would have eliminated him.

  Just as she wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger on a teenaged girl and her mother if Zero ordered her to.

  “I have coordinates for your extraction,” Zero said. “I suggest you meet your brothers there and do what you have to in order to keep the women safe.”

  Brothers? Both of them? That was overkill when Ethan’s agreement to come in should have been enough. The fact that Zero even mentioned them felt significant, as well. It was a warning. Zero was right. The Cabal bosses had made sure they had contingencies. Ethan had to agree. It was the only way to ensure Jack didn’t lose his family in one horrible, preventable, instant.

  “All right. I’ll do it.”

  Ethan wrote a note for Jack—Back soon, E—and followed exfil plan number three. It got him out of the building without being detected by its, or his own, security systems and a couple of blocks away before he was caught on camera. If he wanted, he could have avoided them as well as he had those in the building, but he didn’t because if Jack was going to have a life without him, then he needed his family more than ever.

  He walked and let the mechanical eyes watch him. Around him, the storefronts were brilliant with Christmas decorations and announcements for holiday sales. Every now and then he reached out to touch a wall or a shop window. Quite apart from any practical reason, he wanted the texture and feel of this beautiful, vibrant city to soak into his skin.

  Most of his work for the Cabal had been centred around Europe and South America, but he had done jobs in North America and the Middle East with Two and Ten, and all of them had worked together on big operations in China, Russia, and Africa. Ethan had seen some of the most beautiful cities in the world—Lisbon, Prague, Isfahan, Seville, Jaipur, Riga and many others—but the scenery had been peripheral to the reason he was there. Those places were always stained for him, if not before he arrived, then definitely after he left.

  Sydney was different. Until a year before, he’d never worked there. He’d raced there and in Melbourne. The authorities—even the secret ones—had no idea the dreaded Ethan Blade had breached their borders. Sydney had always been clean for him. And even after he’d finished that job, it had only changed for the better. No blood, no stains. Just a successful job done—and Jack.

  Casting thoughts of what he’d left behind aside before the ache in his chest became crippling, Ethan concentrated on the now. On getting to the address supplied by Zero. On making sure nothing happened to Jack’s sister and niece. On ensuring his brothers didn’t get the chance to hurt anyone here at all.

  The timing was close when he reached the designated pick up site. He could have moved faster but this wasn’t something he wanted to rush. A final walk through the city Jack loved, the one Ethan was coming to love as well. The further he went, the more he wanted to go back. Wanted to curl up in bed beside Jack again and feel safe and content. It was so tempting. He believed the Office would do what it could to keep the Cabal at bay. Jack and his family wouldn’t be hurt. The slow hollowing out of Ethan’s chest would stop.

  Tempting, but it would be futile. The Office had power, yes, but nowhere near enough to go against the Cabal. They had rules they had to follow. Laws to obey and politicians to appease.

  Leaving Jack, giving him as much as he could to help his sister and niece, was the only option Ethan had.

  There was no one on the footpath outside the entrance to Paddy’s Market. The occasional car or truck passed on the mostly empty, early a.m. street. Ethan crossed the road and leaned against the orange brick wall of the building. It wasn’t exactly blending in—a lone man on the street at this hour, wearing an overcoat in summer—but he didn’t have to wait long.

  A dark figure slithered down from the awning over the shopfronts across the road. Short and stocky, he nevertheless moved with a fluid grace and agile strength that saw him land on the footpath with no sound and barely a hitch in his momentum. Within seconds, he was approaching Ethan, hands swinging free by his sides, fingers splayed, showing no weapons. He was missing the ring and little fingers of his left hand.

  “One-three,” Four said in his low, gravelly voice. “Zero wasn’t sure you’d show up. I knew you would, though.” His white eyes gleamed in the ambient light of the night-time city.

  When putting together their group of Sugar Babies, the Cabal had canvassed the entire globe for suitable candidates. None of them knew exactly where they’d been born—apart from Ethan who could narrow his birthplace down to southern France—but after they’d been released into the world to do jobs, they’d been able to guess. Two had probably been from a Nordic country, Nine from South Africa and Four central Africa.

  “The bosses made it impossible to ignore the summons.” Ethan had always liked Four. He’d been trained to be ruthless and merciless, as they all had been, but unlike some of the others, Four could confine it to the job. He wasn’t overly compassionate but he wasn’t cruel or manipulative, either. And his sweet tooth was worse than Ethan’s, though Four had been thoughtful enough to share any pilfered chocolate or ice cream with him.

  Four grunted. “They do that. This way. I have a car.”

  They fell into step side by side, familiar with each other’s rhythms and actions. Ethan, Four and Two had all worked under the name “Ethan Blade” and as such had spent a lot of time in the field together before Ethan had broken away from the Cabal. The fact that they looked nothing alike had only added to the mystery around Ethan Blade.

  With a silent gesture, Four indicated they take a narrow side street leading to a multi-storey carpark. As they went, Ethan surreptitiously scanned his brother for weapons.

  They had been raised together, taught to work and fight together, taught to respect the other, and yet they’d also been taught to trust no one. They’d been encouraged
to test each other’s limits, to be merciless with their siblings in order to create stronger, deadlier tools for the Cabal. It didn’t matter that Four had shared ice cream with young Paul. It certainly didn’t matter that Ethan liked him. Four was what he was, what they all were, and that meant Ethan couldn’t let his guard down.

  Four had more than adequately proved that with the final test.

  The dark street was a good place for an ambush, but they made it to Four’s car without incident, and the stocky man threw a set of keys to Ethan as they approached a red Jeep Wrangler.

  “Nothing fancy, One-three,” Four said they got into the car. “We don’t need anyone noticing us.”

  Ethan gave him a small smile as he inserted the key and turned it. “I am capable of keeping to a speed limit.”

  Gunning the engine, Ethan slammed the Jeep into reverse and they rocketed backwards. He palmed the steering wheel around, barely missing a cement barricade. Applying the brakes sharply, he brought the car to a sudden stop in the middle of the lane between parks, pointed towards the exit.

  Four merely gave him a sidelong eyeroll.

  Ethan didn’t trust him, but he did like him. “Sorry.”

  With a grunt, Four waved him on and settled back into his seat, appearing to relax.

  Much more sedately, Ethan drove them out of the carpark and onto the road. “Where are we going?”

  “I’ll let you know where to go. Head west for now.”

  Dutifully, Ethan turned them toward the A4 highway.

  They had a number of standard exfil routes out of most places, and on top of those, they each had their own ways out, for the times when even the weight of the Cabal’s gaze was too heavy. There were two Cabal options west of Sydney, and one of Ethan’s own. He could discount his—only he knew about it—and he quickly ruled out the Cabal’s. They wouldn’t take the chance that Ethan had revealed them to the Office.

  More so now than at any time in the past, Ethan was beyond the Cabal’s trust. He’d severed all ties to them and his siblings—his associates—and put a signature to a contract with the Meta-State’s Office of Counterterrorism and Intelligence. The signature wasn’t real, but Ethan’s plan to honour it was. At least, it had been when he’d thought it was the best way to stay with Jack and keep him safe.

  Now, this was his only chance at making sure the greatest danger to Jack and his family was neutralised. He just had to be a bit more patient.

  Dawn chased them westward into the Blue Mountains and beyond. In Mudgee, they stopped to switch cars.

  Across the road from the carpark where Four was quietly breaking into a late model Holden Colorado—common enough on the country roads they wouldn’t stand out—was a small corner store with faded posters in the windows for different ice creams. Glancing back at the man he’d grown up calling brother, Ethan’s heart thumped heavily. If today went as Ethan believed it would, this would be the last time he and Four ever spent together. He’d been resigned to never seeing Four or Seven again when he agreed to live with Jack and made his commitment to the Office, but at least he’d known they were alive out there somewhere. There would have always been the slim possibility of seeing them, talking to them, once again. Ethan had left Seven’s future in Jack’s hands. Four’s was now in his.

  Maybe he could change that though. Maybe this didn’t have to be a them-or-him situation after all.

  Ethan was crossing the road even before he realised he was doing it. Four’s hissed “What are you doing?” barely registered. It was too early for the store to be open but the lock on the door was simple and there was no sign of a security system. Ethan picked the lock and slipped inside swiftly. It didn’t take him long to find what he wanted and he left money on the counter to cover them, then returned to where Four was already in the new car, waiting.

  “What was that about?” Four asked as Ethan slid behind the wheel again.

  “Breakfast.” Ethan held out one of the ice cream sandwiches.

  Once, Four used to take any sweet thing Ethan offered without reservation. Now, he eyed the gift warily, then slowly took it without looking at Ethan. He grunted something that may have been “Thank you,” then tore open the packet and bit into the chocolate biscuit and vanilla ice cream. Four didn’t have much of a conscience, but that he showed one now only made Ethan ache even more for what was inevitably coming.

  Any interest he had in eating his own treat died in Ethan’s chest. The hollow space that had opened up when he’d walked away from Jack widened. He ate for appearance’s sake, started the car and followed Four’s directions.

  They passed Dubbo at eight-thirty a.m. and Ethan asked, “How much further?”

  “Just be patient. We’ll get there soon enough.”

  Ethan depressed the accelerator a touch more. Now that he was certain there was only one option, he was eager to get it done. It was still a delicate balance between dealing with his brothers and giving Jack enough time to ensure the safety of his family, though.

  Jack was probably awake by now and realising Ethan was gone. The note he’d left wouldn’t satisfy him for long, just enough to let Ethan get a head start on what he needed to do. After that, he didn’t doubt that Jack would hit high gear and tear through any obstacles in his path. Ethan was counting on it.

  He just had to give Jack enough time.

  Two hours later, Four directed him off the road and onto a dirt track. The Colorado bounced over a clearly untended stretch of barely-there wheel ruts. The land around them was flat and open, empty pasture that hadn’t seen a herd of grazing animals in some time. A few small clusters of trees broke the immediate surrounds, and the track angled towards a solitary shed in the distance.

  Either alerted by the dust trail the ute was kicking up, or by Four via his neural implant, a large door began to open well before they reached the shed. As they got closer, Ethan saw it was a hanger and by the time he stopped the Colorado to the side of the door, a platform holding a helicopter had rolled out of the hanger on a set of tracks.

  It was a Bell something or other with four blades. Ethan wasn’t that interested in flying and only knew the basics of how to pilot most types of craft, enough that he could land one if required. He much preferred the visceral sensation of high speed on land and the immediacy of the surrounding dangers. It gave him something to focus all of his attention on, to quiet the constant buzz of assessing, planning, and strategizing that ran through his head. Over the years, he’d only found two things that banished it—racing and Jack.

  Four got out of the car and went into the shed. There was no one else in sight, but Zero had said brothers, which meant Ten would be their pilot.

  Ethan checked the Eagles in their holsters, the backup in the hidden holster on his back, under his shirt, the four-inch knives in their wrist sheaths, and the seven-inch tactical knife strapped to his calf. Only when he was satisfied they all there and ready to be used, did he exit the ute.

  “Well, well,” a cool, monotonal voice said from behind him. “The errant child returns to the nest.”

  Muscles tensing unconsciously, Ethan turned slowly. “Hello, Ten.”

  Ten stood by the back of the ute, scraping under a nail with the tip of a tactical knife. His aviators were directed at his hands, but Ethan could feel the weight of his gaze all the same. It was the same cold, penetrating sensation he’d always felt around this brother, similar to how Two made him feel when he’d been in the mood to torture. The difference was that Two had been able to hide it when required. Two could be warm and affectionate, luring people in close, only to turn on them in a split second. Ten had no such skill.

  What really unsettled Ethan right then was how much Ten looked like Jack. The same light brown skin, the black hair that curled stubbornly, the tall, lean frame. He was of either Middle East or South Asia origin and as such had been centred in those areas for the Cabal, and thanks to his pure cold-bloodedness, tended to work alone, or on jobs where three or more of them were required. One on
one, he couldn’t be trusted to not kill his partner. Ten’s confirmed kills on jobs rivalled that of Ethan Blade, and that been three of them.

  If the Cabal had deemed any of the group a success, it had been Two. Intelligent, obedient—except when it came to Ethan—highly efficient and unaffected. They all shared those traits, to greater or lesser extent, but Ten had the added danger of being unpredictable. Generally, when they all worked together, any unsanctioned deaths were his.

  The angle of the reflective sunglasses dropped down over Ethan’s body and came back up slowly. Ethan resisted the urge to reach for a weapon, even as the gunshot scar on his left shoulder twinged.

  “Did you finally tire of the target penetrating you? Is that why you’re coming in?” The flat tone did nothing to make the questions any less disturbing, because although Ten had to know Seven was poised to kill Jack’s sister and niece, that meant nothing to him. He had no empathy and couldn’t understand it in anyone else, either.

  “It’s none of your business.” Ethan matched Ten’s even tone. He’d learned long ago to not react to his brother’s nature. Ten couldn’t help it.

  Ten shrugged and slid his knife back into the sheath on his belt. He wore dark tactical clothing and boots, shoulder rig with his SIG on the right and his preferred hand cannon, a S&W 500, on the left. If Ten had one redeeming factor, it was that he didn’t want his targets to linger.

  Deliberately turning his back on Ten, Ethan started for the hanger door, wondering what Four was doing.

  “You killed Two.”

  Locking down his reaction, Ethan ignored the words. Just as he was about to step into the interior, Ten spoke again.

  “Congratulations, little brother. You passed the final test.”

  Four came out of the hanger as Ethan was forcing himself not to pull a gun on Ten. The stocky man stopped in front of him, a small bag slung over one shoulder, stance relaxed. Ten had moved up behind him, as well. To one side was the wall of the hanger, the ute to the other. Ethan was boxed in.