Chapter 53: The Stranger
The plate was still balanced on Agatha’s lap, a few bites of omelet left, when the door to the medical suite was practically kicked in. Frans burst through the frame, gasping for air. His face was flushed a deep red, and sweat soaked through his shirt. Xavier was on his feet in a second. His hand instinctively reached for the small of his back where he usually tucked a piece, even though he was only wearing a polo shirt.
"Xav, Vargo’s out. He’s gone," Frans rasped.
Xavier went rigid. He shot a look at Agatha, who was still propped up against the pillows looking pale. Panic flared in his chest. He stepped toward Frans and gripped his shoulder.
"How? I told you to double the guard on the basement," Xavier whispered, his voice low and urgent, trying to keep Agatha from spiraling.
"Inside job. Someone blew a gas pipe in the hallway on purpose. By the time the smoke cleared, the chair was empty. His cuffs were cut clean," Frans explained.
Xavier turned back to Agatha. He was ready for the tears, for the shaking shoulders he’d seen just minutes ago. He already had the comforting words lined up to talk her down from the ledge.
"Agatha, listen to me. You’re safe here. I’m having Frans move the whole team to this door," Xavier said, reaching for her hand.
But Agatha didn’t take it. Instead, she took a long, measured breath. The fragile, tear-streaked mask she’d been wearing just evaporated. Her facial muscles went slack, and those teary eyes turned into two cold, sharp voids.
She slid her legs to the edge of the bed and stood up without a single hint of struggle. No groan of pain. No wince as the stitches in her side definitely pulled against her skin.
"Stop being so dramatic, Xavier," Agatha said. Her voice was steady, icy, and completely different from the broken whisper of the morning.
Xavier frowned, his head spinning. "Agatha? What are you doing? Get back in bed. You’re going to rip your stitches open."
Agatha ignored him and walked over to the vanity in the corner. Вhe grabbed a hair tie and pulled her long hair back into a tight, practical knot.
"This wound is a scratch. I survived three bullets in the back when I was nineteen. You think I’m going to be sidelined by a dull knife?" Agatha asked.
Xavier stood there, frozen. "So, the crying? The fear earlier? All of it was an act?"
Agatha glanced at him over her shoulder with a thin, sharp smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I was testing you. Yesterday I asked you to stay, but you chose to go down there and play with Vargo instead. Then you came back and lied to me with the smell of blood still all over your skin."
"I did it for our safety, Agatha," Xavier defended.
"And I did it to see if you’d actually be straight with me. You failed, Xavier," Agatha said flatly. She looked at Frans, who was standing by the door with his mouth hanging open. "Frans, get the car ready at the back entrance. I don’t want a slow tactical team. Just you and Xavier."
Frans cleared his throat, trying to find his bearings. "Agatha, you’re still bleeding."
"The pain is an old friend. It’s not going to stop me from hunting down the guy who ruined my breakfast twice," Agatha replied. She grabbed a black leather jacket from the closet and pulled it on.
Xavier stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "I’m not letting you go out there like this."
"You going to stop me with your bare hands? Especially when you’re still feeling guilty for breaking your word?" Agatha asked, leaning into his space. "Move. Vargo has wasted enough of my time."
Xavier looked into her eyes. He felt a weird mix of worry and pure awe. He realized the woman he married wasn't a bird in a cage. She was a predator waiting for the door to open.
"Fine. But I’m driving," Xavier conceded.
They moved down the back stairs. Agatha didn’t run. She walked with a calm, rhythmic pace, like she was just taking a stroll through a park. Frans led them to a black SUV idling at the back lobby.
"The trackers spotted him moving toward the old warehouse at the north docks. He’s on a black bike, no plates," Frans reported once they were inside.
The ride was dead silent. Xavier kept glancing at Agatha in the rearview mirror. She was checking a Glock she’d pulled from the glove box with professional ease. There was no trace of the woman who’d begged him to stay by her side.
"Why aren't you surprised he got out?" Xavier asked, eyes on the road.
"Because he has people on your payroll, Xavier. Even an idiot knows you can’t blow a gas pipe without help from the inside," Agatha said casually.
"You think I have a rat in my team?" Frans asked, sounding offended.
"That’s for you to figure out after we catch him," Agatha shot back.
They pulled up about five hundred yards from the warehouse. Agatha stepped out of the car. She didn't rush. She kept her gun tucked behind her back as she moved through the shadows of the shipping containers.
"Vargo’s in warehouse four. I saw movement by the second floor window," Frans whispered into his comms.
Agatha kept moving. Her boots made no sound on the rough concrete. She didn't follow Frans toward the back. She walked straight to the front door that was slightly ajar.
"Agatha, wait for backup," Xavier hissed.
She ignored him and slipped inside. The smell of diesel and rust was thick. In the middle of the room, Vargo was standing there holding a large bag. His face was a mess of bruises, but he grinned when he saw her.
"You’re fast, Mrs. Valois," Vargo said with a raspy laugh.
"You’re slow, Vargo. You should’ve been halfway across the ocean by now," Agatha replied.
Suddenly, a small metal cylinder rolled between Agatha’s feet. A smoke grenade. Thick white clouds filled the room in seconds. Agatha covered her face with her sleeve, her eyes narrowing as she scanned for movement.
She heard footsteps to her left and fired two rounds. The bullets hit metal, followed by a short grunt.
"Xavier, cut off the west exit!" Agatha shouted.
She pushed through the smoke, but a body slammed into her shoulder. It wasn't Vargo. This person was smaller, faster, and moved with terrifying precision. Agatha tried to land an elbow, but the stranger parried it with a move that was too clean for a common thug.
The masked figure didn't fight back. He just held her off long enough for Vargo to bolt for the side door. Agatha tried to get a shot off, but the stranger kicked her wrist, sending her gun skidding across the floor.
"Who the hell are you?" Agatha asked coldly.
The person didn't say a word. He tossed a small flashbang at her feet. The white light blinded her instantly. By the time her vision cleared, the warehouse was empty.
Agatha walked to the open side door. A speedboat was already cutting through the water, leaving the dock behind. Vargo was in the seat, and the masked stranger stood at the back, staring at the warehouse with no expression behind the fabric.
Xavier and Frans burst in, out of breath. They found Agatha standing perfectly still in the doorway, watching the water settle.
"They get away?" Xavier asked, stepping up beside her.
Agatha didn't answer. She just kept her eyes on the boat. There was a spark in her gaze, a curiosity she hadn't felt in a long time.
"Who was that guy? He wasn't one of Vargo’s people," Frans asked, looking around the empty floor.
"I don't know. But he’s way too trained for a hired hand," Agatha said. She turned to Xavier. "Someone a lot more dangerous than Vargo just stepped into this mess."
Xavier noticed a red stain blooming on her black shirt, right where her stitches were. "You’re bleeding through, Agatha. We need to go back."
Agatha glanced at the wound, then back at the ocean. "Let it bleed. At least the game just got interesting."
Melynda appeared at the entrance with a tactical squad. She looked at the scene with a scowl. "Vargo escaped under your watch? Unbelievable."
"We had outside interference," Frans reported quickly.
Agatha walked past Melynda without saying a word. She headed for the car with that same hauntingly calm pace. Xavier followed her, realizing that after today, he would never look at his wife the same way again.
"Xavier," Agatha called out as they reached the car.
"Yeah?"
"Find out who owns a speedboat with a red circle logo on the engine. I don’t like being played twice," Agatha ordered.
Xavier just nodded. The storm was just getting started, and for the first time, his wife was the one leading the charge.