Prologue
Three weeks ago, 11:47 pm...
She stepped out of the service elevator, wearing black, head-to-toe, face obscured, gloves, silent shoes, a black knife strapped to her thigh. Nothing shiny. No noise. A shadow moving along the corridor of the luxury Dallas penthouse apartment. She was Onyx. In her element.
At the apartment entrance, she worked the security device, entering the code she’d been given. Once inside, she disarmed the device and killed the surveillance cameras.
As she moved through the apartment, she went through her mental checklist.
Disable security – check
Target: Senator Richard Morales
Location: Master bedroom, northeast corner
Weapon: No noise. Close contact. Knife
Exit: Service elevator, twelve seconds from target room
Moving quickly and efficiently through the living room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Dallas skyline, the glow of the city lighting her way. She passed family photos propped on a sofa table behind a pristine white leather couch. Photos of a beautiful wife with long blond hair, smiling at the camera. Another of two teenage daughters, both dark-haired, wearing white, flowing dresses and sandals, taken at sunset on the beach.
She moved past them into the kitchen and beyond, pushing the images to the back of her mind, closing them off as she replayed her handler’s words, given during her mission briefing.
“Morales is selling government secrets to the Russians,” Viktor Rousseau had said in his deep, intense tone. “He’s a traitor. Eliminating him will stop the flow of secrets, thus protecting our country. Without you, the Russians will use the information he supplies to target our weaknesses, dismantle our defenses and destroy our country. You must save our country.”
Her mission: eliminate the traitor, save the country
When she reached the door to the master bedroom, a shaft of light spilled out through the crack. A voice sounded from within.
“Strickland and his threats can go to hell. I’m going public with the Kaufman contracts tomorrow. He can’t get away with this. He needs to be stopped. The American people deserve to know.”
She froze. Strickland? Was he talking about Deputy Director Alan Strickland? The man who signed off on her missions? A knot formed in the pit of her belly. Viktor trusted him. Took orders from him. She’d taken orders from him.
She stood paralyzed for seconds—an eternity for an Onyx operative.
Ignore the static. Viktor’s voice echoed in her head. Complete the mission.
Morales’s voice cut through the words in her thoughts. “Strickland is using government black ops funds to build a private army.” Morales paused. “This is no joke. I have proof. He’s using them to take out his opposition, clearing a path for Kaufman and his illegal contracts.”
That knot in her gut spoke to her. This is wrong.
Instinct she’d buried for years, the instinct that had kept her alive on the streets of Dallas, kicked in.
She backed away from the door and moved swiftly through the penthouse. As she passed through the kitchen, she fished an SD disk from her pocket.
“I can’t do this anymore.” She laid the disk on the white quartz countertop. If the private army Strickland was building consisted of her and the others in the Onyx program, the senator would need what was on the disk to add to whatever proof he had.
The disk contained information she wasn’t supposed to have. Information about the Onyx program. Until she’d overheard the senator’s words, she hadn’t realized what it was really about.
A private army?
Had Strickland used her and the others in a sick plan to remove his opposition? Had the people he’d had them target been innocent?
Her stomach roiled.
They’d been trained, groomed and manipulated to believe whatever Viktor or Strickland told them. They’d believed they were helping their country, that what they were doing was right. That they were the good guys, taking out bad people.
She eased through the penthouse door, closing it quietly behind her. Head down, she hurried for the service elevator and counted the seconds it took to get her to the ground floor. Once the door opened, she slipped out the back of the building, through the door she’d rigged to disable the security. Hugging the side of the building, she moved in the shadows past the loading dock and crossed quickly to hide behind the giant trash bins.
