Page 57 of Bonded in Death

Chapter Eight

“When did you get to London? You’re not from there,” she said when he frowned. “Not from England, not from Ireland. Eastern Europe. I can hear it.”

“Yes. There was war. It took my father, my brother. It took my mother’s heart, and then her life. I lived, and wanted a different life, so I took the name Kolchek. There are reasons that aren’t important to you, for this.

“With those papers, with that name and three years added to my age, I traveled for a time. I was young, clever, angry. In time, the anger faded.”

Very precisely, he cut into the omelet on his plate. Eve already knew Roarke had loaded it with cheese and spinach.

“I studied medicine—traditional and holistic. And I made my way to London. I thought to… insert myself in King’s College, obtain a medical degree.”

“Insert yourself?”

He moved a shoulder, elegantly—and it occurred to her that Roarkeoften made the exact same gesture. “I had certain skills. Why not use them to gain entry to such a prestigious institution? I began there, learned there, started a life there.

“And then war came. Slowly at first. Insidious if you will. Rumbles and dissent, anger, distrust, and more anger. Some had too much, some too little. Some demanded all believe what they believed. Some were from somewhere else, and had no business living, working, breathing, so were demeaned, defiled, attacked.

“It grew and it spread, and the violence erupted until cities were war zones.”

“You served as a medic.”

“Yes. Ivanna had come to London with her husband and their little boys. And they were caught in the violence. He was killed, and she was recruited by the Underground. And in turn, she recruited me. And I brought Alice into it. Not at first—at first Alice took in Ivanna’s children. They were mixed race, and so young. Alice hid them until Ivanna could get them away, to safety.”

“But she stayed in London? Ivanna?”

“The war had spread, from Europe to the Americas, beyond. Where and when would they be safe if we didn’t stop this hate, this violence?”

“I’m not criticizing her.”

He took a breath, then nodded. “No, who’d understand better what it takes to hold back the blood? After the children were away, Alice—she was also clever—she understood what we did, and wanted to take part. We married, and she took part. Then Marjorie, then Cyril, and so on. And we were twelve. We were The Twelve. And in those early years of the twenties, you would say elite covert operatives, given a great deal of autonomy.”

“I’m recording now,” she said, and he nodded.

“And Potter, Conrad Potter? When did he join your team?”

“In late 2021. He made the twelfth. He had worked in intelligencebefore, had been in the military, was a police officer. Skilled, experienced. And to my everlasting regret, trusted.”

“What happened the night you destroyed the enemy headquarters?”

“We were two teams, as the mission had two parts. Magpie had discovered this HQ when scavenging, and scouting. Mole had learned about a prison where many were being held—some would be transported, others executed.”

He paused, ate some omelet. “Most executed, no doubt, as Flame—a small radical group who wanted to burn it all down—had joined with the larger Dominion. They joined, we believed, as the tide was turning. They were losing, and their counterparts in North America had already lost.

“The prison was in Whitechapel. Alice and Hawk would set the explosives in the tunnels of the HQ, get clear, then set them off. Magpie and Shark—Potter—would serve as lookouts and backup. Both Rabbit and Cobra would remain at our HQ for communications. The rest of us would hit the prison. We would wait for the signal, the explosion, and go in.”

“What went wrong?”

“Shark left his post. We learned during the trial that he had stockpiled weapons, money, papers. He went in, after Alice and Hawk. He intended to kill them both, take the remote, he’d get clear, set off the charges, vanish. Helped in that escape by alerting the enemy of our plans to take the prison.”

He paused, cleared his throat, sipped some water.

“He missed a killing shot with Hawk, and as Hawk tried to fight him off, Alice opened her comms so we heard what was happening. But Hawk, already wounded, already dying, couldn’t fight him off. Nor could Alice for long. It was all so quick, as we were rushing back. She made the decision—and he must’ve seen it in her eyes because he ran.”

“She set off the charges.”

“Yes. We had a child. We planned to wait until after the war, but wehad a child. I know she thought of our child, and she ran after him, but couldn’t get clear. And she pushed the remote.

“He’d gotten clear enough, Potter. Injured, but clear enough. Magpie ran to the tunnels. He called out to us, told us which direction Potter had taken, and that he was bleeding. But he’d heard Alice running, and hoped… He found her, and pulled her out, but…”

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