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Of course she did. How stupid to think it was for any other reason. He hadn’t worn his ring yesterday. She was surprised he still had it, though from here she couldn’t tell if it was his actual wedding band or one he’d borrowed. Rose had hundreds of pieces of jewelry for OZ operatives.
Hawke sent her a quick look. “You know that, right?”
“Yes. Of course. She’ll do her best to tear us apart, sow division. You forget I’ve had years of intensive experience with this enemy.”
And Iris was the enemy. There was no doubt about that. Finding out who she worked for was their primary goal, but Olivia wanted other answers, too. Had Iris ever worked legitimately for MI6? How long had she worked for this shadow group? Had Olivia’s father worked for them?
She wondered if they would have tried to recruit her, too, if she’d returned to England.
Hawke steered the SUV into an older residential neighborhood about five miles outside of Yuma. Not exactly the type of area where one would think enemy combatants would be held.
“You never said if you’ve talked with her,” Olivia said.
“I have, but only briefly. I wore a mask and disguised my voice, but I imagine she’s suspecting or at least wondering.”
“Maybe that will give us the element of surprise.”
Neither of them said what they were both thinking—Iris Gates was too savvy to not realize who’d captured her. And though Olivia didn’t say it, she couldn’t help but wonder if her mother had set up the entire scenario. For what reason, only heaven knew, but this woman had been around too long to be taken alive if she didn’t want to be.
They drove for several more miles, weaving through the large neighborhood. Hawke turned onto a street and headed to the very last house at the end of a cul-de-sac. The structure was an eighties-style brick home, very middle class with a well-cared-for lawn and giant oak and elm trees to give it a homey, lived-in look. There was even an old clunker RV in the drive.
“Does anyone live here?” she asked.
“One guy—Bruce Gordon. Retired CIA. He keeps up the façade, steers away curious neighbors and door-to-door salesmen.”
When they parked in front of the house, she craned her neck to see that the backyard led to an empty, barren field.
“Just the house?”
“It’s a front. Activity goes on below.”
Of course. Like OZ, it likely had a warren of underground hallways.
“How many prisoners are here?”
“Only a handful. I was going to take her to that old cabin in Tennessee we used to use, but Kate steered me here.”
When they’d worked together, they’d purchased a run-down cabin in the deepest, densest part of the Tennessee hills to use for interrogations, as a holding facility, and, on occasion, as a weekend getaway.
“You ready?” he asked.
She drew in a breath, feeling stronger than she had in a while. Perhaps confronting the demons of her past, along with one very current demon, was a cathartic move for her. “Yes.”
They stepped onto the front porch, and Hawke rang the doorbell. Olivia looked around, noting that the colorful geraniums and petunias in the big flowerpots had recently been watered. A porch swing swayed gently in the wind, and wind chimes played a lovely melody. From the outside, it was a comfortable abode, an excellent front for what really went on inside.
The door opened, and a middle-aged man with the buzz haircut and erect shoulders of a military man said, “Yes?”
“Sweet potato,” Hawke replied.
“Sweet potato?” Olivia whispered.
Hawke grinned down at her. “You gotta have a sense of humor in this business.”
The man stepped back, and they entered the place that imprisoned Iris Gates.
After introducing her to Bruce, the man who’d opened the door and overseer of the prison, Hawke took Olivia’s hand and led her to the back of the house, into the kitchen area. The smell of cooked bacon and eggs permeated the room. Neither of them had wanted breakfast this morning, but they’d downed coffee and a protein bar for energy. Despite the need for answers, this wasn’t something either of them looked forward to. Doing this on a full stomach would’ve been even more unpleasant.
He opened a door in the corner that led to the lower part of the facility. At one time, it had been a simple basement. Now, a maze filled with cells, interrogation rooms, and a few bedrooms for the personnel who lived here spread out over almost a quarter mile. An exit at the other end of the area, in the middle of the empty field, enabled workers to come and go without anyone being the wiser.
