Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
And I knew then she was it for me.
She was the one.
And it was going to hurt like hell if I had to walk away from her.
But I started talking, anyway. “You know my parents died when I was young.”
Silver nodded, unconsciously leaning closer.
“I went off the rails. Got into bad shit. When I hit sixteen and another foster home, I knew I was on a path to jail or death. Ultimately, I didn’t want that to be my mum and dad’s legacy. They were both educated and intelligent, and they would have wanted better. My dad was a professor of English literature. I inherited all those books from him. Mum was a neuroscientist. Her mother had a very rare type of Alzheimer’s. She died at only forty-one with the disease. It set my mum on a path for researching a cure. Both of my parents dedicated their lives to education before they were killed in a car accident. It would have destroyed them to see me throw my future away.”
“So, you joined the Royal Marines?”
“I did. It was during my first big operation, where my commanding officer was killed, that things changed. I led the men. Got us out of a situation that we probably shouldn’t have gotten out of. The higher-ups realized I was a particularly strong strategist and that I had a photographic memory. They ran a few tests.”
“What kind of tests?”
“Different kinds of personality tests, IQ tests. I scored high on those.” I shrugged.
“How high? Genius high?”
I nodded. “I was twenty-one years old when MI6 recruited me as an agent. They recruit people from all walks of life to be agents, codebreakers, analysts.”
“MI6, as in James Bond?” Silver stared wide-eyed.
Tender affection thrummed through me. “Not quite. I mean, it’s inextricable now with the Bond mythology. But espionage is neither loud nor high profile. Aye, there have been times the details of an operation have made it into public consumption. However, discretion and secrecy are key. I wouldn’t walk into a bar and announce who I was while I was on an operation.” I huffed at the absurdity.
Silver gaped, pretty lips parted wide. “You’re serious. You’re an ex-secret agent?”
“Retired.”
“I, uh, yeah, uh … I’m going to need more information.”
I could give her more but not detailed. “Historically, MI6 recruited from the upper classes. My few remaining friends at the agency are such people, but the Soviet Union used that strategy against us, infiltrating Cambridge University to find people they could turn into British traitors. Convince them to join the British Secret Service and then pass those secrets along to the Russians. So, MI6 diversified. But even today, members of the intelligence community use private spaces in London, elite clubs like Whites and Boodles to meet.” Only a few weeks ago, I’d met James in one.
“You were a spy.” Silver slumped back in her seat. “An actual spy?”
“MI6 has around thirty-two hundred officers running covert operations across the world. They use fake companies as a cover for clandestine operations. I worked in many of them over my fourteen-year career as an agent. One of my longest jobs was where I earned my engineering and construction qualifications. It was a cover, of course. My real job was to infiltrate, undermine, covertly acquire intelligence, or use blackmail, bribery, sometimes physical violence, to persuade foreign agents to betray their country and hand over top secret information. I had fifteen aliases in my time with the Secret Service. I infiltrated terrorist organizations and aided in the dismantling of international plots, not just against the United Kingdom but her allies.” Here came the dirty truth. “I betrayed people I befriended, romanced, and worked with. Sometimes people who didn’t deserve my loyalty, and sometimes people who were pawns in a bigger game. I was loyal only to my country, and I never looked back at the people who got hurt because I was so fucking good at my job.”
Silver studied me silently. Her eyes roamed my face. I wondered if she could hear my heart slamming against my ribs.
Finally, she tilted her head in consideration. A familiar mannerism I’d missed. “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to judge you for doing a job very few people in this world can do? A job that ultimately protected your country?”
I sighed. Heavily. “I need you to know … I’ve been a ruthless bastard. I’ve hurt people. Your parents died trying to do what was right. I lived doing what I thought was right, not caring who died as a consequence.”
“I think you do care. I think it lives with you every day. The choices you made.”
Lowering my gaze, I didn’t argue. Because she was right.
“Is that why you retired early?”
No. That was another story. One I hadn’t spoken of since that night with Quinn. It wasn’t a tale I enjoyed telling.