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Covert Christmas Twin (Twins Separated At Birth Book 2) Page 11
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It struck her how well she fit in his arms, almost as if she was meant to rest there. Her heart quickened at the thought and she shoved it as far away as possible. “I think I’ve probably inherited a lot from my parents, whether I like it or not. Look at Audrey. She went into academia and became a professor, just like Beverly. I became a covert agent just like my—my father.”
Her throat ached. It was hard to admit she had a father, especially since he was a murderous double agent. “I’ve been forced to make a lot of questionable moral decisions in my line of work all for the good of my country, but I can’t imagine...” She sucked in a breath. “I mean, to pretend to love someone and then marry them, start a family, only with intentions to kill—”
“Hey.” Joe’s voice was husky as he gently hugged her tighter. “We don’t know what it was really like for him. We don’t know everything that happened.”
He was right, of course. She sighed. “What I do know is Beverly eventually became a covert operative, too, so we’re both like our mom one way or another. Maybe it’s inescapable.”
“Sure, there’s plenty of things we inherit that we can’t escape, but tendencies and careers are choices. Whatever your initial motivation to become an agent, you’re good at being an operative and you love it. Don’t let doubts rob you of your confidence.”
Her head dropped, and it felt as if he’d turned the knife she’d placed in her heart. She hadn’t told anyone her dark secret yet. “I’m not an operative anymore.” Saying the words aloud hurt even more.
His grip slackened as he sat up straight. “What?”
ELEVEN
The despair Joe had felt in his bones suddenly dissipated. “Did you quit the Bureau? What happened?” The woman in front of him wasn’t merely exhausted. She looked beaten.
“After I was shot and my handler found out I had a twin, he pulled me off all my undercover cases. My cover, Mrs. Kimmet, was rumored to have trusted the wrong person and disappeared. Mr. Kimmet—Lee, my partner—went back to play the part of the grieving husband and close any money-laundering cases he could. The other agents posing as aides and clerks at our shell law firm are taking care of the rest and shutting it down.” She looked up at him. “None of my family knows. I haven’t told anyone yet.”
“Lee doesn’t know you’re off covert operations?”
“No. He knew Mrs. Kimmet could no longer exist for Audrey’s safety.” She stared ahead, her voice measured and monotone. “Since Lee and I were no longer partners, he wasn’t briefed about my next assignment. As soon as I was cleared for work after I was shot, I got the news that I would be working a desk job. I thought it was temporary until my handler made it clear it was permanent. I decided to take my extended leave of absence then and there.”
Lee tried to imagine Kendra behind a desk and failed. “I’m sorry. That sounds like a lot to process.”
She shrugged. “I let Lee and Audrey believe I was going off the grid for the sole purpose of looking for my biological mom. The truth was I sat around in my apartment for two weeks before I decided to actually go after her. Tracking down leads gave me purpose, at least. I’ve been in covert ops for so long, playing the part of a fake lawyer who helps criminals money-launder, that lately I’m not sure who I am anymore. And no one is going to hand me a file with another persona to play, so I better figure it out fast.”
“You need time to process and not just about your job. You were presented with a twin by surprise. Your biological mom is a spy. That’s a lot handed to you in a short time, and then there’s the little drama of someone trying to kill us.” The wind stilled for a moment and the slightest scent of sulfur and exhaust fumes mixed in with the fresh air. Breathing in the good with the bad served as a reminder. He didn’t know if they were going to survive until tomorrow or not, so maybe now was the time to tell her his thoughts on Beverly. “Do you ever wonder if Beverly picked the families who adopted you on purpose, as a way of connecting with you?”
She turned suddenly, looking up into his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Well, like you said, Beverly is most at home in academia. Audrey was placed in a family with two professors. And you... You were placed with two law-enforce—”
“What?” Kendra twisted fully, out of his arms, her face animated. “You think she got to choose where we went?” She stared at her hands. “That might explain how the adoption agencies in both Michigan and Montana conveniently lost the records. One was by fire.” She shook her head. “I hope Beverly didn’t go that far, but if she was worried about us being discovered and kidnapped...”
Joe didn’t want to get her hopes up that Beverly had put that much thought into where she placed the twins. “I don’t know. But what I do know is Beverly is a genius. She wouldn’t have survived this long if she wasn’t, which leads me to suspect...” He shrugged. “She probably did.”
Kendra smiled softly. She looked radiant when she smiled. Just as fast as it appeared, it disappeared. “Well, that’s almost worse because why couldn’t she have figured out how to have a relationship with us while we grew up if she’s so smart? Or, maybe she’s not as smart as you perceived. Either way, she thought we could do this, and we failed.”
“When I met Beverly in church...” He searched for the right words. “She might claim, after the fact, that her sob story was all a ploy to win me as an asset or apprentice, but I recognized a crisis of faith when I saw one. Beverly was seeking God’s help to make her relationship right with Him and right with you. And if Beverly is to be believed that I’m a good analyst, then I believe that she really was wrestling with those things.”
“How can you be sure it was authentic?”
“Because I recognized the desperation in myself.” He shook his head. “I was struggling—still am to some extent.”
“Why?”
He hesitated. It was easy to be vulnerable in Kendra’s presence, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to discuss it with anyone yet. Though, this might be their last night alive so it might be the best time. “I’d only been an associate pastor for a couple weeks, and I was already burned out. It has to be some kind of record. I was doubting my decision.”
Kendra tilted her head and studied him. “Tell me straight up. Why did you decide to do it then?”
“Become a pastor?” That was a loaded question. “The short answer is it wasn’t a knee-jerk reaction. I took two years of online and weekend classes to earn my Master of Divinity.”
“Yes, but you’re always taking some new class online or in person. When we met you told me your hobby was college.” She laughed. “Who says that?”
He mirrored her smile. While not the easiest subject for him right now, he was glad to see the change in focus had helped her. “I like school. Guilty.”
“So what made the hobby lead to a new career?”
“Well, I’ve never told anyone but since this seems to be a night of firsts—”
“And possibly lasts,” she said softly.
“I haven’t given up, Kendra. We’re not alone in this.” Though he would admit he’d never been up against a bleaker situation than this. “I need to trust that He’s with us or I won’t be of any use to you or anyone else.” He sighed. “The trusting is actually the answer to your question.”
She frowned. “How’s that?”
“During my service in Afghanistan, there was a group coming in for a humanitarian effort. We were tasked with checking out the surrounding buildings to make sure it was secure before they arrived. I was in an abandoned building. I looked out the window and had an intense need to drop to my knees and pray.”
He shook his head because he suddenly felt like it was yesterday. “I’ve never felt it as strongly before or since. I tried to think away the urge. I can pray just as easily standing up. But I felt I needed to humble myself and drop to my knees. Right then. Despite feeling foolish, even though there was no one i
n that room but me, I kneeled.” Simply talking about it brought the memory and feelings to the forefront of his mind. His throat swelled with gratitude yet again.
“Okay...” Kendra moved her hand in a roundabout motion, encouraging him to get on with the story.
“The moment I hit my knees a rocket-propelled grenade soared over my head.”
Kendra gasped. “Right where you were standing?”
He nodded, glad he didn’t need to explain in more detail. It gave him a moment to tap down the surge of emotion. “I was spared. In fact, no one died that day. But I was the only one who got a neon sign telling me I was spared for a reason. And right or wrong, I do battle with a sense of constant pressure to make sure my life is worth something. I’m still trying to figure out the best path to do that.”
“You were making a difference as an analyst.”
“Thank you. I know I was, but I also burned out fast there.”
“That surprises me. You seemed to enjoy analyses of all types.”
She was right. He did. “I suppose I got tired of always looking for the bad in people.”
Her mouth opened in surprise for a moment before she smiled. “I suppose I’m guilty of the same thing. I can understand that.”
“There’s also a part of me that’s still searching for which thing I was saved for, the purpose. Even though I know more than most that He doesn’t necessarily work that way.” Joe blinked rapidly. This really was starting to feel like the last night of their lives. He’d never admitted his darkest fears to anyone, let alone himself. “I’m in my thirties, and I still don’t know what I want to do with my life.” He shook his head. “Wow. That’s really messed up, isn’t it?”
She laughed. “Wanting to please God but struggling how to do it? How to best use your gifts and talents? I’m pretty sure that’s called being human.” She smiled in a way that made him feel like their hearts had a direct link to each other. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Thank you for sharing with me. I know it wasn’t easy. You’re like me—you keep things close.” Her hand slid down his arm and squeezed his hand. “You mentioned praying. I think I’m ready to do that together.”
He tried not to flinch at her touch or express surprise at her change of heart. It was as if she’d thrown off her armor. Joe could see that girl he met at the academy again. His heart beat faster. Why could they be vulnerable with each other so easily? He returned his focus to above and closed his eyes. “Father, thank You for keeping us safe. We’re desperate for Your wisdom and courage right now...”
Her head grew heavy on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked down. Kendra was sound asleep against him. Ironic that he was the one begging for sleep minutes ago, but she’d been the one to fall asleep. He fought against laughter, lest he wake her. He remained still but wide-awake from all the revelations and renewed sense of purpose.
He wasn’t officially retired as an analyst, after all, and they weren’t dead yet. Perhaps he needed to pretend he had all the FBI team members at his disposal. If he imagined an operation with that advantage and thought about what his coworkers would say and do, maybe he could discover some new insight, some new ideas.
Once her breathing grew heavier, he moved to gently hold her head and lower her to the ground. Time was running out. He’d asked for wisdom, and with the new burst of energy, he felt the need to seek it wholeheartedly. The alternative was to sleep and accept death in the morning.
* * *
Kendra ran to the edge of the roof. No escape there. She ran to the opposite edge, but the roof shrunk in size by several feet. How could that happen? When she turned around the roof continued growing smaller in front of her eyes. Sirens approached from all directions, but they wouldn’t reach her in time. Joe appeared and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I would never let you go.”
She tilted her head. He’d said that to her before, hadn’t he?
“Kendra!” He shouted her name as she began to feel the tremors of an earthquake.
Her eyes flashed open to find Joe in her face, his hand shaking her shoulder. She recoiled and hit the back of her head against the back ledge. Her heart pounded furiously. The telltale beeping sound of a truck backing up must have been the sirens she’d heard in her dream.
An odd chanting and a voice shouting through what sounded like a megaphone fought against approaching growls of big machine engines. She pressed through the fog of sleep and sat up, shivering. The sky had lightened, but the sun must’ve still been on the horizon as it wasn’t bright yet. “What time is it?” Her teeth chattered. The more she woke up, the more violently her muscles shook. “I didn’t think it’d be so cold in California.”
“Just after seven in the morning. It’s not December in the Midwest, but it’s still chilly.”
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Nausea threatened to send her to the edge of the roof. She’d slept away all the time they’d had to figure out a solution. She stared forward at the brick wall—if only she could will it to have an invisible ladder for them to climb down.
“It’s okay.” He paled. “I didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep for a few seconds, too. I think. I’m not sure. Over fifty hours without sleep, I think I unintentionally blanked out for a few minutes, or I would’ve woken you sooner.” He held up his phone. “If I was awake I would’ve turned it off. It’s almost dead now.”
She contorted in an odd stretch, trying to relieve the knot underneath her left shoulder blade. It was hard to think straight with all the noise. “What’s the shouting?”
He grinned. “A protest. People gathered to protest the demolition of this building. I believe it’ll help our chance at escape.”
She felt her cheeks flush as she remembered her dream. What if she’d said something aloud? The voice through the megaphone grew louder. Someone shouted about needing more housing, not more mansions. “If there are protestors, maybe we could wave and get their attention.” She moved to take off her shoe. “I could throw something to—”
“I already thought of that. Well, not the shoe specifically. Listen to the machines warming up and the shouting. No one is going to hear us. We’re up six floors high. No one is looking up here.”
“That’s why we throw something. We have to at least try!”
“Analyze the possibilities. Say we managed to get someone’s attention, and they in turn were able to get the demolition crew to stop the machines long enough to listen. If they happen to see the tops of our heads, the police will be notified and discover us. They want to ask us a lot of questions, and there’s the little matter of the meth lab on the first floor.”
“We would look guilty and wouldn’t know who to trust. I’m fully aware.” She rubbed her eyes to clear the rest of the sleep from her thoughts, but the shivering had yet to stop. “And the Pirate would still find a way to take care of us, to keep us quiet, especially since we still don’t know who he is.”
“If we have another chance for escape, shouldn’t we try that first?” Joe reached for her hand. “Stay low. Let’s get inside the building and get you moving. It’s now or never.”
She crouched and every bruise she’d acquired in the past day protested. “Now or never to do what?”
His eyebrows dipped and somehow made his narrowed eyes look even bluer. “They can legally start demolishing in about ten minutes. Now or never to get out of here or we’ll go down with the building.” He took her by the hand and led her down the stairway.
“I don’t understand. How do the protesters help us escape?”
He continued to hold her hand. Only this time it didn’t bother her, like when he’d tried to take charge earlier. The thought rattled her, especially after her dream, but she supposed the warmth and steady support he offered was the difference.
“Timing is everything.” He glanced back, his entire face animated. “As you can tell, the proteste
rs provide plenty of noise and distraction, once we get down. I evaluated the whole building. The northwestern corner is the only spot where the men guarding the alley and the front wouldn’t be able to see us.”
She frowned and tried to remember what area around the building looked like, but it had been dark when they’d run toward it. “Because of trees?”
They reached the fifth floor and Joe stopped outside of a room. “A palm tree is right on the western corner, where the fence and a lot of vines obscure sight to the building.” He held up his phone and shined the beam on the covered window. “We knock this out and should find a fire escape.”
“Really? You think they just never noticed a fire escape?”
A chagrined expression crossed his face. “It might be generous to assume it’s in working order. I didn’t dare shine a flashlight on it from the roof, but I think even if it’s bare-bones we can still make it work.”
Hope blossomed and suddenly the cold didn’t matter. “But once we get down?”
“The protesters were in the street, which means—”
This time it was sirens instead of beeping that seeped through the brick walls. “They’re blocking traffic. The police will come to help and ensure citizens stay safe while the demolition occurs.”
He nodded, clearly proud of himself. “If there’s even two cops on the right side of the law, our turned agents, hired guns or whoever they are won’t want to draw attention, right?” Joe gestured forward. “I tested the floor earlier. We should be okay, but stay alert.”
The sound of people chanting grew louder and the cranking of more than one construction engine was unmistakable. Joe looked over his shoulder. “I think we’re running out of time. Are you on board?”
“What about once we’re on the ground? What then?” The questions rushed from her mouth. She felt like she was flying blind. There’d been plenty of times she’d run first and made decisions based on instinct, but that was when she was calling the shots and had a backup team.