FACE TO FACE
Andrew's Pov.
"Good afternoon," I say, stepping through the entrance.
The woman at the desk glances up. She's young. Polished. Eyes sharp behind rimless glasses and they assess me with quick efficiency. “Good afternoon sir.”
She sits up straighter, tugging down a blouse that wasn't skewered and clears her throat. She's not meeting my eyes anymore, has looked away in favour of staring at her hands.
I'm used to this reaction as Mr Andrew Hills, but even more so as Cosmos. With Mr Hills, it's societal. People don't try to hide it because they want me to see, want to stroke my ego a little before they inevitably make an ask.
With Cosmos, people barely notice how they react. It's more innate, instinctual. And if they do, they try to tamp it down immediately. They worry I can smell fear, and they worry it's a heady fragrance for a man like me.
It is.
But they need not worry. I'm not an animal, he made sure of that. "I'm here to see the Khan."
She nods, clicking on her computer, ready to make an appointment. "What's your name, please?”
"Cosmos." There's no flicker of recognition as she begins to type. I didn't expect there to be. “And I'd like to see him today.”
“One moment, please sir.”
She hits the keys quickly, with practiced hands. I know she's checking a file with a list of names of those who are authorized to see the Khan whenever they wish. Once upon a time, my name was on it, and you didn't have to scroll too far to find it.
I imagine I was scrubbed off the day I left. The Khan isn’t one for sentimentality.
"I'm sorry, sir but that won't be possible," she says after a moment, her voice professional but not unkind and she watches my face for how I'll take it.
I nod, giving her a small smile to placate her nerves.
She gives me one back. "Do I still fix the appointment, sir?"
"No, that won’t be necessary.” I wave it away. “But please give him a message as soon as possible."
Her fingers hover over the keyboard, poised to take my words down. “What should I say?"
I lean forward just enough to ensure the delivery will be remembered. "Tell him that I’ll see him very soon."
She nods, hesitating only briefly before entering the message. She doesn’t ask for clarification. Smart girl. The weight in my voice speaks volumes so I know she'll get it to him soon.
But can she do it before I get to him?
I turn and walk out without another word, the tension already beginning to ripple behind me.
The guards at the gate watch us leave without another glance. We didn't make any trouble. We came in, got turned away and left, all without so much as raised voices.
The people I get speculative looks from are my team.
Like I said, I’m not an animal. I'm ready to do it either way but if there's a chance that this could be completely peaceful then I'll take it.
I do not hope for blood. Of course I’d try the front door first, even knowing it'll be locked. Let it not be said I didn’t.
—
We circle the perimeter. Maximus drives slowly, eyes flicking between his mirrors, scanning for patrol patterns.
"Under that tree," I tell him, pointing to the far side of the fence. It’s a familiar spot, beyond every camera’s range. I used it a lot a lifetime ago.
Maximus parks, and we sit for a moment watching.
Clear.
I nod and they all follow, slipping out of the car soundlessly. Sadie is the last out, adjusting the weapon strap on her shoulder.
"Get the ladder."
Without a word, Maximus pops the trunk open and retrieves the folded rope ladder. It's heavy, reinforced with lead-weighted ends. He swings it; once, twice, then releases it. It sails over the high fence, landing with a muffled thud.
I yank it gently. And then I yank on it with all my might. It holds.
I grab the highest ring my hand can reach and swing my body onto it. One foot. Then the next.
The rope groans lowly beneath my boots, but they don’t break. Sadie climbs behind me, nimble as a cat. Ian follows, his eyes still darting about even when his feet are on the ground. Brett is helped up by Maximus who brings up the rear, moving carefully because of his weight.
The moment he drops into the courtyard, silence swallows us. We pause again, still, listening.
Clear.
We move quickly, backs to the walls. Nothing has changed. I could walk it blindfolded and not get lost.
There.
Tucked into the far corner of the compound is a smaller, unassuming building. It's simple but elegant. A house supposed to be meant for a distant relative staying over, or a newly wedded couple just starting out.
That’s what he wants people to think.
But this is where the master of the house actually lives, surrounded by a good chunk of his fortune.
He keeps quarters in the main house too, of course. Big, palatial rooms for hosting. Sleek, guarded conference rooms for information to change ears. Grandiose, luxury rooms for guests that need to be impressed.
But this modest little place is his. This is where he truly lives. And the misconception has actually saved his life a few times.
I approach the door and pull out a small keypad. Slowly I type in the code, careful not to make a mistake.
Six, six, six, four, eight, five.
Thankfully it doesn't leave me in suspense. There’s a soft click a moment later and the door glides open without a sound.
I motion for all of them to take a deep grounding breath, fingers glancing over my gun and then I step through the threshold. "Anybody home?" I call out.
Something changes as my voice carries down the hallway. It’s subtle, but I feel it.
Somewhere in here, someone has gone still. Waiting. They've noticed my presence just as I've felt theirs.
I slow my steps. My body hums with tension. The Khan must have already triggered the silent alarm. In a few minutes, this place will be swarming with guards. But a few moments is all I need.
I feel him more than I see him, as I approach the bedroom. The old man still hasn't lost his touch."Don’t shoot, Khan" I say, voice steady. "I’m here to talk."
A shadow shifts and I chuckle. Of course he’s armed, I think as he steps into view. He always is.
There he is. The Khan.