Lazlo’s Last Stand

person were there in the room with them, standing between them.

“Corbett,” she began, just as he said, “Lucia-”

They broke off together and then he was staring at her, frozen, his eyes like silver daggers.

“Go on,” he said softly.

“No-that’s all right, you-”

“Lucia.”

Oh, God. She’d heard that tone of voice before. And she could see his jaw stiffening, see his body tensing, knew he was throwing up all his old barricades. This was going to be even harder than she’d imagined.

She drew a shuddering breath. “Corbett, there’s something we have to talk about. I’m sorry, I know you don’t-”

“Lucia, for God’s sake!” His voice was like tearing cloth.

She held up a hand as if to deflect a blow, then snatched it back. “I know this is hard for you. Painful. And maybe you feel it isn’t really my business, but-” She halted when he flinched back, as if she’d lobbed something at him instead.

“Not-your business?” And now, oddly, he seemed more confused than anything.

“Yes. I mean-” She closed her eyes and took another breath. Well, what could she do but blunder on? “This has all happened so suddenly. I think…I’m really not exactly sure what my status is-with you. But I do think this is important, to you and to both of us. So I have to ask. Corbett, you must have thought about it. What are you going to do about them? Cassandra. And…um…your son. What is his name? I’m not even sure…” She stumbled to a halt.

With all the responses she’d imagined, all the scenarios she’d played over in her mind, she hadn’t expected this. Corbett had one hand over his eyes and was shaking with silent laughter.

She could only stare at him, wonder whether to be miffed and wait for an explanation. Which never really came, because after a moment he rubbed the hand over his face and said in a muffled voice, “Troy. I believe that’s his name. My son…” Another spasm of inexplicable laughter rippled through him. He shook his head, then looked at her, eyes glistening with something that might have been grief or mirth, mixed with what looked bewilderingly like relief. As if the question she’d asked hadn’t been nearly as hard for him as the one he’d been expecting.

He didn’t give her a chance to mull that over, though, as he pushed back abruptly, rose and began to pace, raking his hair back with his fingers.

“You’re quite right, you know. It is difficult for me to talk about. I don’t know how to feel about it, for one thing. Guilt-a whole lot of that. Rage, sometimes. Sure, I’m angry. Mad as hell. More often, though-most of the time-I think what I feel is just…sad.” He paced a step or two without speaking, then threw Lucia a crooked smile. “What’s weird, though, is that I have these moments where I actually feel this fierce kind of joy-purely instinctive, I suspect. Crikey, as Adam would say, I’m a dad! Am I crazy, or what? The kid wants to kill me. But, hey, he’s my son.”

His lips twisted with a bitter little smile as he paused to grasp the back of a chair and lean his weight on it. “As for what I’m to do with him, given the fact that he is currently in police custody, I doubt I’ll have much to say in the matter. If we’d been able to whisk him away before the authorities arrived, as we’d planned…But, as it is-”

“What about the fact that he is your son? Couldn’t you say it was all a family quarrel gone wrong, some sort of misunderstanding, and given that the only real harm done was to the perpetrator, get the charges dismissed, or reduced, say, to something with probation or a suspended sentence?”

“You’re forgetting,” Corbett said dryly, “he’s tried this a few times before.”

“Yes, but the police don’t know that. Do they? If you can keep him out of jail, maybe you could get him released into your custody…”

“He’s nineteen years old, Lu. In criminal matters that’s considered an adult in most countries. I do have a few connections, it’s true…one or two favors I could probably call in. But there’s the fact that we don’t know who this boy is. We don’t know how much damage his mother’s managed to inflict on him. Considering he’s got her genetic material and almost twenty years of her influence, for all we know the lad could be an unmitigated monster who absolutely belongs in jail.”

“Yes, but he’s got your genetic material, too. And you told me his mother wasn’t always evil. And speaking of Cassandra, why haven’t the police arrested her? Adam said she’s been right there at her son’s bedside ever since the shooting.”

“And what would they charge her with? Just being a lousy mother isn’t enough, I’m afraid.”

“But Adam said she’s the head of S.N.A.K.E. She must have been responsible for dozens of murders, drugs and weapons trafficking. What about that conflict-diamond business Witt uncovered last summer? Surely that-”

“And absolutely nothing can be traced back to her. She’s covered her tracks well, as you know. Even you weren’t able to nail her as the source of those bloody e-mails that entertained us so nicely all summer and fall.” He broke off, straightened and rubbed his hand over his eyes once more. “You know what the real irony is? This is precisely the sort of job the Lazlo Group would ordinarily take on. If I’d only caught on sooner to the possibility it was Cassandra behind it all, I believe we could have found the proof necessary to put the organization out of business and Cassandra behind bars for good. But as it is, I’m afraid she’s got the drop on us, love. With the Group in complete disarray and no way to communicate-”

“Don’t say that,” Lucia said fiercely. “I’ve been running some diagnostics. Let me try again to reach Adam.” Or anyone else in the system, she thought, as she pushed her chair back from the table. Maybe even anyone but Adam…just in case.

Ten minutes later she looked up from the bank of monitors and turned to face Corbett. Her heart felt like a chunk of hot lead in her chest, and she knew from the bleakness in his eyes that what she had to tell him was already written in hers.

“That’s it, I’m sorry. The entire communications system is nonfunctional. It’s been shut down, from headquarters to the most remote outpost. Everything. There’s not a peep anywhere.” She paused, then added in a voice that trembled, “It’s as if the Lazlo Group has ceased to exist.”

Chapter 11

“It’s the only possible thing to do,” Corbett said. “I have to go back immediately. You know that.”

“Of course I know that,” Lucia said with exaggerated patience, a ploy he thought was intended to keep her from falling apart completely, and which he could tell was only a good breath or two away from complete and utter failure. “What I do not understand is why you won’t let me come with you.”

“I’ve explained why,” he said, in a manner that matched hers and, he was sure, was about to cause an inevitable flare-up of her temper. “I need you to stay here, try to access the Lazlo system, and ferret out our mole.”

“Which I can do just as well on my laptop from anywhere on the planet,” she shot back furiously, sitting up in bed and turning on him, evidently forgetting for the moment that she wasn’t wearing any clothes. “Which you well know, dammit.” The last word emerged with added emphasis as she snatched at the down comforter and jerked it up to cover her breasts.

In spite of the ache of sadness that seemed a permanent part of him now, he had to quell an urge to smile. Given her present state of mind, he didn’t like to think what she might do if she thought he was laughing at her. Which was the farthest thing from his mind.

What was on his mind was trying to recall exactly how they’d come to be engaged in discussion at all, instead of the vastly more enjoyable activities they’d both had in mind when they’d reached the mutual conclusion that he should spend the night in his own bed-with her. But somehow, between the blood-stirring embraces in the kitchen and the unavoidable processes involved in retiring for the night-the teeth-brushing and the like-Lucia had asked him about, or he might have mentioned, his plans for the following day.

“Edesem…” He reached across her to hook a forefinger over the comforter where it draped between her breasts. Half expecting her to bat his hand away, he pulled it down