A darkly clad agent, plucked the gun from Shon's trembling hand. Demetri lay limp on the ground, his shoulder oozing blood. He grunted in pain when two of the Istochnik agents picked him up by his arms and feet and laid him in the back of the van. The other two agents motioned Shon and Jeannie forward. Fear seized them both as they walked a steep incline and out into the night.
Thorne had learned some Russian during his training at The Source. The irony of it being the language of his parents wasn't lost on him. He shifted through his limited knowledge to find the right words.
When they formed in his mind, he turned from the wall and spoke with authority, "Ðне нÑжно поговоÑиÑÑ Ñ Ð²Ð°Ñим лидеÑом."
The wording was wrong, but it did the trick as a large man, almost equal to his height and muscle mass approached him.
"I am the leader. What do you want?"
"You need to let my men go. They know nothing. Take me and do with me what you will." Thorne stood unflinching as the large man came so close their noses almost touched.
"Don't worry, son of Aleksei, you and your menâ"
An Istochnik member came up and spoke in his leader's ear. The big man nodded, satisfied. He saluted Thorne with two fingers. "We go now."
"Wait!" Thorne shouted at the leader's departing back. "What about the two prisoners? What about Demetri?"
"Those you hold to your heart are safe." The man's long teeth glinted in the moonlight, and his eyes were like black pebbles. "The others are ours to deal with."
Jeannie is safe. That's all I hoped for.
He would deal with his enemies later.
The SUV's carrying the Istochnik and a dark-colored van drove away from the derelict site. Thorne struggled with his bonds, eventually wiggling free after a few agonizing moments. His heart and mind already focused on Jeannie and where sheâ"
"Thorne. Thorne!" Jeannie cried.
She reached him first, barreling into him so hard, his body smashed against the wall. Jeannie kissed him and he returned it for all he was worth.
Their bodies were so tightly molded together, the watching men didn't know where Thorne ended and Jeannie began.
"Get a room!" Quentin yelled.
The men laughed, even Shon. All of them happy the mission ended with no lives lost.
Quentin's words reminded Thorne of another time, a bad time when he was less than human. A time when he'd held another woman in his arms. Jeannie had changed all of that. How could he have ever doubted her? He lived and breathed because of his want and need for her.
He hated to do it, but he disentangled himself from her flush embrace to look into her eyes. "Jeannie, are you okay?"
"Yes. Yes. I'm fine." She bit her lip, and Thorne's heart froze at the worry on her face. "Shon wounded Demetri. The Istochnik took him and Anatoly. I don't know where Svetlana isâ"
"She's dead, yo." Quentin said, coming to stand by Thorne. Dalton stood on his other side, his eyes fixated on blood that spattered Jeannie's clothes.
"You musta been in the mix, Jeannie. With all those blood splatters, you and Shon look likeâ"
"No time for humor- we need to leave," Thorne said, breaking off Dalton's untimely quip.
As the team trailed behind them, Jeannie whispered, "When this is over, I need to tell you something. Something I know you won't like."
"Whatever it is, Jeannie," he said, squeezing her to his side. "I won't leave you."
During the drive to The Source, Jeannie kept touching Thorne as if he would disappear. Her hand grazed his cheek, his chin, and ended up resting on his broad chest.
Now it was all over, exhaustion gripped her like a frightened child. Her eyes closed once again. It was only through sheer will she opened them. She didn't want to miss a minute of being with Thorne.
"Go to sleep Jeannie," Thorne said, wrapping his arm around her body, pulling her into his shoulder. "I'll be here when you wake."
"I love you, Thorne." Jeannie's eyes closed. She murmured one last coherent thought before drifting off into an exhausted slumber. "So very..."
"Is she asleep?" Quentin asked from the front seat, his voice an echo in her ears. Thorne's rumbled reply didn't register, only the steady beating of his heart.
They sat in the conference room: Thorne, Quentin, Shon, Jeannie, and Dalton. The Source provided gray tracksuits and allowed Shon and Jeannie time to shower and change, only to wait for over an hour.
A noise at the back of the room had all eyes on the slowly opening door. Drake and Carmen came in. Shon jumped to his feet, glowering at Carmen for her betrayal. Drake stepped in between them.
"Easy, Shon. If it weren't for Carmen, this mission wouldn't have gone so smoothly."
"Smoothly?" Quentin shouted, banging his hands on the table. "You think this FUBAR mission went smoothly? What kind of snow-white crack have you been smoking?"
"The same your mother has," Drake said.
Thorne, Dalton, and Quentin stood up as one, moving toward Drake with ticking jaws and clenched fists. Drake urged them forward with a flick of a hand.
"Sit down!" H778 said through the speaker. The men stood their ground for a moment before complying. Three pairs of eyes shot daggers at Drake as he smirked at each one in turn.
"These will be the next steps. They're non-negotiable, and there will be no arguments."
Everyone stilled. Even Quentin stopped fidgeting.
"In cooperation with the Istochnik," H778 said, "The Source has brokered the following agreements."
"Carmen Quintana." Carmen tore her eyes from Shon to face the speaker mounted on the wall. "The Istochnik has released you and they will no longer threaten your family. In the future, you must not work for or against either agency."
Carmen rattled off her thanks in Spanish. Shon, moved by her emotion, gave her a small smile.
"Shon Westwood. You're free to go. Just know that after you graduate, you have a job waiting here at The Source should you wish."
Shon let out a sigh of relief. His biggest fear since entering the building and going through the security checks was that he'd never see the light of day again.
"59605 and 59688..."
Quentin winced. He had been waiting like a metal coil in a ballpoint pen for H778 to announce his fate. He sat up straighter, alert as a deer in the woods. Even his ears twitched.
"Based on the recommendation of the team members during the mission... "
When H778 paused, Quentin let out a nervous giggle. At the odd sound, Drake shook with silent laughter. Dalton gave the laughing man a dirty look.
H778 let time lapse until everyone but Drake sweated as they waited for the outcome. "This time, 59605 and 59688, you will escape punishment for disobeying direct orders."
Quentin jumped onto the conference table, whooping like a football fan whose team had just scored a touchdown. Dalton pushed from his chair, dancing the length of the room as if he were in a mosh pit, his fingers hooked into horns.
H778 let their antics go on for a few minutes then called the room to order.
"Attention, we're not done here." Quentin and Dalton took their seats. Everyone's eyes swiveled to Thorne and Jeannie. The pair held hands on top of the table as they gazed at each other.
"59638. You ignored your directive and disobeyed order after order. The Source has stripped you of your position as team leader, and you're no longer its agent."
Jeannie gripped his hand harder, her smile so bright, it nearly blinded him.
"I love you," she whispered. Thorne's heart soared. It could have been worse. The Source could have inflicted many heinous acts on Jeannie and him. His release from the agency was a "punishment" he was happy to embrace. Now, he was free to pursue a life with Jeannie andâ
"Now for the last one." H778â²s voice was monotone as she read out the fate of the others, but now there was a harshness to her tone. "Jeannie Jones, you are remanded to the custody of the Istochnik. You have one night in which to make preparations."