24. Sullivan

24

SULLIVAN

“ D on’t look, but they know something,” said Fallon. “And they’re not including us in the conversation.”

It pained me to agree, but she was right. I willed David to call us over, to include us, but they continued speaking in hushed tones without doing so.

“Bloody hell,” Fallon muttered. “I knew he’d do this.”

“Con?”

“Of course—the bastard. He’s been behaving strangely since we returned to Blackmoor earlier. I cannot abide that man.”

“As David said, you’re welcome to stay here instead.”

“And I will do. But first, I need to give Conrad a piece of my mind.”

“What do you say we call it a night?” Con asked when all three men approached us.

Fallon glared at him. “Fine,” she practically spat.

“Reconvene in the morning?” Tag asked.

Fallon folded her arms. “I’ll need to be here at eight.”

“As in zero eight hundred?” Con asked.

Fallon rolled her eyes. “Yes, and if it’s a problem, I can make other arrangements.”

“It’s not a problem as much as it is bloody early,” he said under his breath.

After saying good night, Ash and I took the golf cart back to Thistle Gate.

“Did you happen to notice the design on the entrance to the cottage?” he asked.

“On the gate?”

“Yes.”

“I did. It’s quite beautiful. Do you know who did it?”

“I do not. And can you believe that, until earlier today, I didn’t notice the thistles?”

I had to cover my mouth to stifle my laugh. “Is that not where it got its name?”

David shrugged and sighed. “No idea.”

“What’s this about?” I asked after we’d parked and were nearing the front door.

“Apparently, I score very low on both observation and investigative skills.”

“I disagree.”

“I appreciate it, but don’t feel as though you have to placate me.”

I opened the door, and we went inside.

“You recognized me and saved my life. Anyone who says you aren’t observant is out of their mind.”

I took off my coat and slung it on the back of the sofa. When David’s fists were clenched at his sides and it looked like he might have even been biting the inside of his cheek, I picked it up and hung it on the coat rack instead. “Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Now, that I hung it up.”

“Sorry?”

“My coat.”

David held out his hand and led me to the sofa. “There are things we need to discuss.”

“Tonight?”

“As much as I’d like to put it off, I don’t think it would be wise to do so.”

“Is this what you were discussing in the library after dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Then, you’re right. You should tell me.”

“As you know, Tag has a contact in Syria. What he was able to learn was that, according to their government, there is no such person as Eric Weber.”

“He obviously uses an alias. Perhaps more than one.”

“Agreed. Except the diplomatic protection he has via Syria is in the name of Eric Weber.”

My brow furrowed. “That is curious.”

“Secondly, he has ties to Syrian military intelligence, and she believes he has met with both the Russian and Chinese governments.”

“She?”

“Err, yes. His source.”

“Go on.”

“The logical theory as far as what he’s shipping is either biological or chemical weapons.”

I disagreed, but I’d wait until he was finished to comment.

“From what Con was able to decipher from encrypted emails, Weber may also be working with the UK and our allies. And finally, he believes there’s evidence of a secret research facility.”

“Here in Scotland.”

“There’s no evidence pointing to it specifically.”

“Except the shipments all originate here. It’s the only logical explanation.”

“Perhaps. There’s one more bit. The name Labyrinth, which Con believes is the project.”

“A complicated and irregular network of passages.”

“Yes, that is the definition.”

My mind raced with what Fallon had told me about the tunnels earlier. Not so much the ones here, but throughout Scotland—in Edinburgh, in particular.

“Sullivan?”

I realized I’d gotten lost in thought. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“No, but I expected you would.”

“Right. Apologies. Again. Thank you for telling me all of this.”

His eyes scrunched. “And yet, there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Not specifically.”

David stood and paced. “You must understand that this is not something you can report on.”

Ah. That was at the crux of the odd behavior. “Without my investigation, you’d know nothing about Weber or Tower-Meridian.”

“That isn’t entirely true.”

“Let me rephrase. If you hadn’t been sent to kill me that night, Weber wouldn’t be on your radar or SIS’.”

He put his hands on his hips. “Perhaps not mine.”

“So what you’re saying is everything you told me tonight is off the record and I’m not permitted to make use of it.”

“I’ll remind you of the NDA you signed.”

I stood as well, unsure what to do or where to go, only that I couldn’t continue this conversation. I stalked from the room and went past the bedroom we’d shared in search of another.

“What are you doing?” he asked when I returned to the other bedroom and pulled several things from the drawers.

“Relocating.”

“Sullivan, don’t be absurd?—”

I stomped my feet on the way back to the other bedroom, which seemed to shut him up. Before I could shut the door, he put his arm out and kept it open.

“We’re in the midst of a conversation. I insist we finish it.”

“You just informed me I could not report on my own bloody story, Ashcroft . My story. How dare you? And then, you had the audacity to remind me that I’d signed an NDA. As if I would’ve forgotten. Again, how dare you ?”

“Is that your intention, then? To report on this?”

“Yes.”

He wove his fingers in his hair. “I cannot believe this.”

“There’s another question you should’ve asked, David. In fact, there is none more important.”

“What?”

I walked over to the door. “Please leave.”

“What is the other question?”

“I’d like to be alone.”

“Sullivan, please, just tell me.”

I shook my head. “When you’ve figured it out, let me know.”

“And in the meantime, I cannot be with you?”

The way he’d phrased the question, the tone of his voice, had me so close to giving in. But I couldn’t. For a relationship to work between us, David needed to respect me, and that meant respect my work. I loved him, but I couldn’t be with someone who treated me—as an investigative journalist—with such little regard.

“Wait,” he said when I put my hand on his chest to push him out of the way. “I may not know the question, but I do know this.”

I sighed. “Go on.”

“If you report on what we’ve learned now, two things will happen. One, Weber will know we’re on to him and perhaps very close to exposing his crimes. That is the least important of the two. What matters more is that you will face even greater danger, and if anything happens to you, if I’m unable to keep you safe, if…” His voice caught. “Sullivan, without you, my life wouldn’t be worth living.” He whispered the last of his words.

I put my other hand on his chest but didn’t push with either. “David, the question you didn’t ask but should’ve is when .”

“When?”

“Yes. When do I intend to file the story.”

“What is the answer, Sullivan?”

“When the story is finished. When Weber is either behind bars or dead. When we know what Labyrinth is and that it has been dismantled—or whatever needs to happen with or to it.” I paused. “David, the bottom line is, releasing this story now wouldn’t just put my own life at greater risk. It would affect all of us here, working on it. Do you really think I’d put a story before so many lives?”

“Put that way, no, I don’t believe you would.” He sighed. “Earlier, when we were in the library, I commented that Weber is toying with the demise of civilization.”

“I agree.”

He studied me. “You don’t think it’s chemical or biological weaponry, do you?”

“I do not. However, what I fear it is, is almost too terrifying to even consider.”

“Will you tell me?”

“If we’re going to continue this discussion, we need to sit down. But first, a drink.”

David grabbed the decanter and two glasses and sat beside me on the sofa in the living room. “I’ll get the fire going again.”

“Thank you,” I said, pouring half glasses for each of us.

He sat down and raised his. “To us.”

“To us,” I repeated but with scrunched eyes.

“The two people who intend to prevent Weber from destroying civilization as we know it.”

I smiled. “Yes. To us.”

“So, what do you think Weber is trafficking?”

“The only thing that makes sense is AIWS—Autonomous Intelligent Weapons Systems.”

David set his glass on the table and put his head in his hands. “Good God.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “Good God.”