He Came Back to Collect

Chapter 008

Cornell shot to his feet.

“Who was it? Give me a name. I'll kill the bastard tonight.”

“Cornell, calm down. We can't discuss this over the phone. We have a lead now, so just... please, don't rush into anything. I'll be in Bellwick City the day after tomorrow. I'll explain everything then.”

He frowned. Hannah was usually direct and decisive. Hearing her stumble over her words like this made him uneasy. There was something she wasn't telling him.

Still, he let it go for now.

“All right. I'll pick you up.”

He ended the call. After three years of carrying the blame, he was finally going to learn the truth. He was already imagining what he'd do to the man responsible when he got his hands on him.

He was still enjoying the comfort of a proper bed the following morning when someone kicked him in the backside.

He rolled over to find Rebecca standing there.

“What?”

“Don't take that tone with me. You've got a visitor.”

She gave him a look and walked out.

Cornell dragged himself up, scratched his head, and went to the door, still half asleep.

A short, elderly man in a neat suit and bow tie stood outside.

“Good morning. Am I speaking to Cornell Bateman?”

“That's me.”

“I'm Mr. Cregger, Maria Sten's butler.” The man inclined his head. “She's sent me to bring you to her home at Wethercrest Estates. You're to move in with her.”

Cornell rubbed his chin. That had to be General Sten's doing. Left to herself, Maria would never have asked him to live under the same roof.

He wasn't especially keen on sharing a home with an ice queen, either.

“Thank her for the offer, but I'm happy here. Have a good day.”

The butler's face fell. Before Cornell could close the door, he caught his sleeve.

“Please, sir. You must come. If I return without you, she'll be furious. If she dismisses me, I don't know what I'll do. My wife has cerebral palsy. She's bedridden, and at my age, where am I supposed to find another...?”

“All right, all right. I'll come.”

Cornell couldn't bear listening to someone plead like that.

Mr. Cregger brightened immediately. At a gesture from him, two men in black stepped forward and presented a suit.

“Commissioned for you overnight, sir. Entirely handmade, by a tailor who dresses royalty. You'll find no brand labels on it.” He smiled. “Please take your time getting ready. We'll wait here.”

Cornell washed, changed, and took a look at himself.

The suit made an extraordinary difference. He looked sharper and considerably more handsome, and he liked what he saw.

He followed the butler downstairs to a Lincoln stretch limousine waiting outside.

The ride was so smooth he barely noticed the road. Before long, they were driving through Wethercrest Estates, one of the most exclusive residential developments in Bellwick City.

The houses stood more than half a mile apart, set among green hills and water. Pavilions dotted the grounds, and the classical architecture gave the whole estate an air of quiet, expensive restraint.

They stopped at number 98.

The house alone covered more than five thousand square feet, not counting the outdoor pool or the enormous garage.

“This way, sir.”

Mr. Cregger led him inside, where the first thing Cornell saw nearly made him stop in the doorway.

Maria Sten was wearing a green dinosaur onesie.

She had a cartoon cushion hugged to her chest and was watching SpongeBob SquarePants.

“Oh, that's hilarious!”

She laughed without the slightest concern for how she looked.

Mr. Cregger, apparently accustomed to this version of his employer, approached her.

“Ahem. Miss, your guest is here.”

She turned, saw Cornell, and immediately stood up.

“Mr. Cregger. I said this afternoon. Why did you go this morning?”

The butler touched his forehead.

“Oh, dear. You're quite right. I'm sorry, miss. I forgot.”

Maria glanced at Cornell. Knowing he'd seen her sprawled in front of a cartoon brought color to her cheeks, which only made her expression turn colder.

“This was my grandfather's idea. Having you stay here certainly wasn't mine.” She turned to the butler. “Show him to his room.”

“Yes, miss.”

Now that he was here, Cornell could see the advantages. Living in the same house would make protecting her much easier.

Besides, the dinosaur pajamas were a considerable improvement on her usual icy dignity.

“Nice pajamas, Ms. Sten. Very executive.”

She shot him a furious look, gathered up the green tail, and hurried into her bedroom without another word.

He found himself smiling. She was almost cute like this.

“You'll get used to her, sir,” Mr. Cregger said as he led him away. “She can seem rather cold, but she's a kind, uncomplicated young woman at heart.”

The guest room was enormous. A king-size bed, a large LED television, an Apple computer, polished wooden flooring, and elegant lamps gave Cornell very little to complain about.

Every everyday necessity had already been provided.

He'd barely had time to sit down when Hannah called, sooner than he'd expected. He told her to come straight to Wethercrest Estates.

Not long afterward, a military Hummer H2 pulled up outside.

Hannah climbed out carrying a file. Her gaze was as sharp as ever, but her expression kept shifting, and she looked preoccupied.

“What's wrong? Time of the month? I thought that wasn't until later.”

The joke got no response.

Now he was concerned.

They found an empty pavilion and sat down. Hannah took a deep breath before she spoke.

“Cornell, this is going to hurt. I need you to keep yourself under control.”

“Come on. I've spent three years going over every enemy I've ever made. You think I haven't prepared myself?”

Still smiling, he took the envelope from her and pulled out the file.

The photograph showed a handsome man with strong, sharply defined features.

Recognition lit his face.

“Greyston Barden?”

He slapped the table, delighted.

“Look at him! He founded Prescott Group? He's worth nearly a billion and a half? That little bastard did well for himself.”

He looked over at her, almost laughing.

“Back in Task Force Reaper, he used to follow me everywhere. Couldn't get rid of him. He even took a bullet for me once. I still...”

His voice faltered.

He looked down at the file again, his delight giving way to unease.

“Wait. His family were farmers. They didn't have that kind of money. Where did he get four and a half million to start a company?”

Then he understood why she had brought him the file.

For a moment, he couldn't think at all.

He sat on the stone bench, staring blankly across the lake.

Hannah watched him with a pained expression.

“He tells people he won the money in the lottery. I checked his story, followed it up, spoke to everyone I could. It never happened.”

She paused.

“You know who you told about going after those five officers from the Republic of Vaskora. Greyston was the only one. He was the only person who could have got there before you, killed them, and made sure you walked straight into the trap.”

Cornell said nothing.

He unfastened the bracelet around his wrist.

A bullet hung from it. Sunlight caught the metal, picking out the dried blood still clinging to its surface.

He stared at it until his vision blurred.

Somewhere inside, he'd known. He should have worked it out long ago. He just hadn't wanted to believe it.

The man who'd once taken a bullet for him had sold him out. He'd betrayed Task Force Reaper.

Cornell closed his hand around the bullet. His lips trembled as he looked toward the far side of the lake.

“Greyston Barden. You saved my life. Three years in prison is payment enough for that.” His voice was rough. “But what you did to Task Force Reaper? I'll make you pay for every bit of it. You're no brother of mine.”

He drew back his arm and threw the bullet as hard as he could.

It traced an arc through the sunlight and disappeared beneath the water.