arms over his chest. “It seems Tehya’s identity and her location were betrayed by an anonymous party to a low-level criminal formerly in Sorrel’s employ, Thaddeus Alchoni.”
“Thaddeus is a French-born aristocrat identified as a runner and informant for Sorrel,” Micah continued when Noah glanced at him. “Our contact there called me and reported that word went out to Sorrel’s men within hours of his death ten years ago, that any information concerning the wife or the child that escaped was to be reported to someone they called the Marquis. Alchoni sent the information via a mail service Sorrel had set up years before his death for use by informants who couldn’t meet with him. We have someone trying to track that now, but so far, there’s no further information.”
“Why didn’t we know about that order when it went out?” Jordan questioned, his voice harsher than he intended at the thought that he had overlooked an important detail in Tehya’s safety.
“Because it wasn’t an organization-wide order,” Noah picked the conversation back up. “That order only went out to a few of their higher-level informants. Those who weren’t identified as part of the organization after Sorrel’s death.”
“It was well hidden, just as Lilly’s mother and many of her fine friends managed to hide what they were doing,” Micah growled.
It had amazed them, all the secrets they had learned once their operative, Nighthawk, had been allowed to return to her former life after she was nearly assassinated.
How the some of the impossibly rich conducted their personal lives, manipulated their bloodlines, and bought and sold their women as though they were no more than pets or breeding stock.
Men would choose their mistresses, future wives, or their son’s playthings as young girls, then arrange with their fathers, or even their mothers, for specialized training or interests to be introduced into their lives.
The girls that rebelled were sent to a clinic in Switzerland that had often used torturous practices to ensure they never rebelled again.
They created puppets out of their daughters and monsters of their sons. And if the reconditioning didn’t work, then men like Sorrel had arranged “accidents” so skillfully that even their parents never suspected, in many cases, why their sons or daughters had died.
Finally, Jordan turned to Rory. “You and Turk back up Iron and Casey from here on out. I want everyone ready to move on this if so much as a breath of wind thinks to blow the wrong way.”
“You have a bad feeling about this, don’t you, Jordan?” Noah probed.
His nephew had worked with him often enough, knew him well enough, that he picked up on it instantly.
“Something’s not coming together,” Jordan admitted. “I’m certain they’ll strike tonight, but I’m damned if I can believe it’s Ascarti.” He gave a hard shake of his head. “I can’t pinpoint it, Noah.” And that was so rare that Jordan knew it was usually indicative of a mission going to hell at the last minute.
Noah’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll make sure we’re all on our toes.”
They would anyway, Jordan knew. But that feeling was never wrong.
Looking at the men watching him, for the first time in his career as a SEAL and then an Elite Ops commander, Jordan was second-guessing himself.
“Turk, you and Rory head out and meet up with Iron and Casey to coordinate your places. Be prepared for anything. I want, at all times, eyes on Tehya in some way. If, by any chance, she is taken, then I want to know where she’s at every second.”
Rory gave a sharp nod, though his gaze was concerned as it met Jordan’s, then Noah’s. Rather than saying anything, he turned and he and Turk left the wine cellar quickly via the hidden exit that opened into a sheltered, overgrown ravine nearly a quarter of a mile away.
“Micah, you and Nik cover the gardens outside the ballroom tonight. Get in place so you have a clear view of the doors in case Tehya’s taken out.”
“We also have the gates covertly wired for security and wireless cameras covering the perimeter,” Micah assured him. “We’re prepared, Jordan.”
Jordan nodded briefly. As they left, he turned to Noah, his second in command on this job.
He’d been tempted to take the women who, in his mind, were his wife, as Fuentes and Sorrel believed that if he broke the wedding vows he was known to cherish, then his loyalty to his country would follow.
But Noah, Nathan Malone as he’d been then, had never broken those vows. Even in the years