Chapter 6

Abrisk knock at the door startled Miles awake.

He sat straight up. Seeing an empty room, his skin flashed cold.

"Angel?" He leapt out of bed and peered into the dark bathroom on his way to the door, his panic blooming. This had to be her at the door. In case it wasn't, he withdrew his Glock from under his pant leg, even as he peered through the peephole.

A vision of his father's frowning face made Miles blink. Impossible. How had his father found him here when Miles had no cell phone that could be traced? Unless…He hauled the door open and saw his guess was right. McKenzie stood in the grip of a square-jawed man whose attire screamed U.S. Marshal—black suit, white shirt, black sunglasses.

"What's going on?" The question was for McKenzie.

"I'm so sorry." She spoke with breathless apology.

Miles looked back at the man in the suit. "Let me guess. You're McKenzie's case handler."

His father answered. "Miles, put the gun away and let us in."

His hopes blown away, Miles met McKenzie's pleading gaze. It persuaded him to put his Glock away and admit the trio before shutting the door firmly. Did his father not realize that Higgins's negligence had gotten McKenzie abducted in the first place? Planting himself in the middle of the room, Miles folded his arms across his chest and glared at his father. "Start explaining."

"Let's all take a seat," Higgins suggested.

Really? He needed to be sitting for this? With a sigh of frustration, Miles approached McKenzie, who searched his face with remorse. Taking her hand gently, he let her know none of this was her fault before drawing her down beside him on the end of the nearest bed.

His father occupied the armchair by the window, and Higgins had straddled the desk chair, sitting on it backward, in lieu of turning it around. "Well?" Miles prompted.

His father met his impatient glare and grimaced. "The first thing you should know, Miles, is that Higgins didn't intentionally hang McKenzie out to dry. What happened last night was a sting operation gone bad. We've been setting a trap."

Miles divided an incredulous gaze between them. "You're working together? Trapping who?"

His father pitched his voice lower. "The Architect."

The name sharpened Miles's attention. "Oh. I knew he had something to do with this." More than one broken Centurion had dropped The Architect's name during interrogation, imbuing him with godlike powers to protect the Cohort. "Let me guess. He's infiltrated the U.S. Marshal's Service."

"Worse than that." Dad's tone was grim. "But we know who he is now."

Miles blinked in confusion. "What could be worse, and why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"Because The Architect's been watching you."

A shiver ran through Miles. "Who is he? And how?"

Dad glanced at Higgins, who gestured for him to go ahead and tell.

"He's the executive assistant director of the Criminal, Cyber, Response and Services Branch. As such, he has oversight of the CID. I'm sure you've heard of Steven Sauers."

Goose bumps ridged Miles's forearms as he pictured a benign-looking, ginger-haired man with spectacles. "Him?"

His father nodded. "Sauers spent three years in Savannah in the late seventies. Learning that was my first break in the case. He joined the Centurion Cohort when Jared Jones's father was its leader. The membership rosters weren't kept on computers back then, and the physical ledger with Sauer's name in it went missing decades ago."

"How do you know he was actually a member, then?"

His father smiled rather smugly. "A diligent bookkeeper backed up all the records onto microfiche."

"You've got to be kidding me." Miles thought for a minute. "If he's been protecting Centurions, how come so many are going to jail?"

"Well, it's not a question of loyalty." Drake shrugged. "It's a question of extortion. For those who could pay—Ashton Ravenel, for instance—Sauers offered his protection and made the evidence vanish on our end. He let the Centurions who couldn't pay burn, safe in the knowledge that they couldn't finger him, as he's hidden his identity for decades."

Miles ran a hand through his hair. "Wow. But there still had to be a leak in WITSEC for him to find McKenzie."

"There was no leak." Higgins smiled apologetically. "McKenzie admitted to us she'd called you twice, once from Omaha and another time from Portland. Both times, Centurions showed up a short time later searching for her. Her calls to you were what gave her away."

Miles glanced at McKenzie. "But I use a secure phone. How's that possible?"

"I had the same question," Higgins admitted. "So, I went to your father with my suspicions, and he confirmed the only way to monitor your phone was from inside the Bureau."

His father gestured. "Remember that mandatory software upgrade on your phone a few years back? Every field agent in the Bureau had to have it, allegedly for security purposes. That was Sauers's doing. We think he uploaded software onto your phone that allowed him to bug your calls—in fact, any conversation you have within range of your phone, whether it's turned on or not, was probably being monitored."

Those words answered a question that had hitherto puzzled Miles. "That's why you said on the plane that you knew what was going on, and I didn't have to explain it."

"Well, I also knew because Higgins and I set it up." Drake had the grace to look chagrined. "I know you don't trust WITSEC to protect McKenzie, but what happened to her was our doing."

Miles divided a frown between the two men. "Explain."

Higgins answered first. "Over the past month, we called you a couple of times from Myrtle Beach, using McKenzie's number and then hanging up."

And here Miles had thought it was her calling him.

"At the same time, we kept a close eye on her, figuring Centurions might show up looking for her. And sure enough, they did."

Indignant, Miles turned toward his father. "You knew all this when I called you for help last night. That's why you flew me down here. Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because you had your phone on you the entire time. I didn't want Sauers overhearing that I was on to him."

Good point. Miles closed his mouth.

"Don't blame your father." Higgins took off his sunglasses, revealing bright-blue eyes. "It's my fault our plan took a wrong turn." He nodded at McKenzie. "I should've explained to you what we were up to. That way you would have stayed put in the safe room."

McKenzie curled her small hands into fists. "Why didn't you?"

Miles covered her hands with one of his and squeezed them, resentful that they'd both been played. "Because they used you as bait, McKenzie."

Higgins briefly closed his eyes. "Okay. That's true in a way, but if you'd stayed in your safe room like I told you to, you'd have been fine. I would have explained everything when I came to collect you. My men and I were right outside, putting a tracker on their van." His blue eyes swiveled toward Miles. "The minute the intruders left, we went inside to free McKenzie from the safe room, only she'd somehow slipped right past us."

Miles couldn't believe they'd be so careless. "What if Centurions had grabbed her before she went into the closet? What if they'd shot and killed her on sight?"

Higgins rolled his eyes. "That's what the alarm was for. She had plenty of warning."

With much to think about, Miles rubbed his forehead while stroking McKenzie's knuckles. At least the so-called leak in WITSEC wasn't a real concern. It was his cell phone that had been compromised, betraying McKenzie's location. Now that his phone was gone, she would be safe again.

With a soft whimper, she dropped her head onto Miles's shoulder. "I don't want to go back into protection."

"It won't be for long, McKenzie." Drake's tone softened as he reassured her. "We're this close to nailing Sauers."

Miles searched his father's confident expression. "You sure you have enough evidence to convict him?"

"Probably."

Miles felt his agitation rising. "How do we know Sauers isn't slipping out of the country as we speak? He knows you flew me down here. He's got to be worried at this juncture."

Dad patted his cell phone. "Because his wife hasn't called me yet."

Miles's eyebrows shot up. "His wife is in on this?"

"She's our lead witness." His father's confident smile faded. "But you make a valid point. He's bound to be antsy, so I need to get back. Let's head to the airfield."

In other words, it was time to relinquish McKenzie to the U.S. Marshal. Miles tightened his hold on her, every cell in his body protesting.

Higgins started to stand. "She'll be safe."

Miles sent him a hard stare. "You'll answer to me if anything happens to her."

Higgins inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Dad also pushed to his feet. "Let's give them a minute." He ushered Higgins out of the room ahead of him, leaving the door cracked.

With his heart in a vise, Miles stood, pulling McKenzie up next to him so he could gaze into her eyes one last time. "This isn't what I wanted, Angel." He could barely speak through his constricted throat.

"I know." She raised both hands to frame his face. "And it's better for you this way."

It was hard to convince himself of that. His vision blurred.

She sent him an encouraging smile. "Seeing you has given me the strength to wait until Sauers is arrested. We can do this, Miles."

He sure hoped so. "Whatever happens, I'll wait for you. As long as it takes, I'll wait."

She threw her arms around him. "I love you."

His heart seemed to fold over on itself. Crushing her to him, he savored the way it felt to hold her. "I love you more, McKenzie."

Drake leaned into the door. "Son, it's time."

As McKenzie pulled back, Miles pressed a final, heartfelt kiss to her lips. "See you soon."

Releasing her regretfully, he grabbed up his duffel bag and headed for the door to fly back to northern Virginia with his father. A final glance back showed McKenzie looking sad but not utterly bereft.

Surely once The Architect was apprehended, she would be free to live her life with him. Miles didn't want to guess how long that would take.