The Last Protector(Clayton White #1)(36)

“Understood.”

“Let me know if you need anything, my friend,” Oxley said. “I’ll be in touch.”

Oxley placed the phone on his desk and looked at the only woman he had ever loved. As always, he found it difficult to avert his eyes once they were set on her. Adaliya was a tall, slim, and vivacious woman in her forties who always carried herself with practiced elegance. She had long jet-black hair and dark, sparkling eyes. The plush white bathrobe she had wrapped around her contrasted with her dark skin. She was leaning against the doorframe, her hands deep in the pockets of her robe.

“What happened here?” she asked, contemplating the wet mess on the floor. “That better not be one of the tumblers my brother gave you.”

“Come this way,” he said, his fingers drawing a path around the broken glass.

Oxley slouched back into his leather chair, letting his head fall forward and using his hand to massage the back of his neck.

“Let me take care of this,” his wife said, taking over.

Oxley closed his eyes, enjoying his wife’s warm touch on his skin. The primary mission had failed, but at least Krantz had taken care of SkyCU Technology. The unforeseen presence of three CID agents disturbed him. The more he thought about it, the more Oxley was convinced the CID agents were there for the same reason Krantz had been. To neutralize Drain. Although Alexander Hammond himself didn’t have much sway with the CID anymore, Oxley knew someone who did. Tom Girdner. Another American general who had contributed to CONQUEST.

It was more than worrying.

Oxley’s only connection to Van Heerden was through Krantz; the mercenary had no idea it was Oxley who had been financing the operation, and it was unlikely Van Heerden could give the authorities any information beyond Krantz’s alias. The thing he knew for sure, though, was that Van Heerden’s failure came with a high price tag.

Oxley had had to burn through most of his contacts within the intelligence community to get the information he needed to prepare the San Francisco operation. He had always known there would be a thorough investigation of tonight’s event. He had also accepted that there was no way all his paid assets were going to get away from this scot-free. But it had been a calculated risk. The loss of paid assets would have been worth it if Veronica Hammond had been killed, but with the utter failure of the mission, Oxley had forfeited valuable resources with not enough to show in return. On the contrary, Oxley’s problems had only grown worse because of Van Heerden’s botched operation.

Anyone could have been responsible for the attack on Veronica. Hammond had made enough enemies during his military career to warrant such action being taken against him. ISIS, Al-Shabaab, Al-Qaida, you name it. They all wanted him dead. Oxley couldn’t think of a better way to exact revenge on one’s enemy than to kill his daughter. Taken separately, the San Francisco and Palo Alto events couldn’t lead to Oxley. Combined, though, they brought out a much different outcome.

Alexander Hammond was no fool. He would learn of Oxley’s involvement.

“Shit!” Oxley shouted.

Even though Hammond hadn’t been sworn in yet as vice president of the United States, he was still a formidable adversary with plenty of powerful allies. Oxley would need to be very careful moving forward and pondered the benefit of reaching out to Hammond personally. Maybe they could find a compromise? Should he come clean and plead his case?

Definitely too soon to do that, Oxley thought, shaking his head. Forcing him to give up Maxwell White’s flight plan had been the right thing to do at the time, but it had destroyed whatever bond, if any, he had ever shared with the American general. There was no trust left between the two men.

“What’s wrong, my love?” his wife asked him, a whisper in his ear. “San Francisco didn’t pan out the way you wanted it to?”

Oxley twisted his head and looked at his wife. There were no secrets between them. None whatsoever. Besides Krantz, she was the only person he trusted unconditionally. Adaliya was his life partner, the mother of his children, his lover, best friend, business partner, and confidante. It was as if she always knew what he needed at a specific time. Sometimes it was brute honesty, sometimes empathy, but more often than not, listening was the key.

Oxley’s dad, now long deceased, had chastised him for waiting so long to get married. Oxley had simply not wanted to make the same mistake his father and mother had made. His five children with Adaliya were treasures to be cherished.

He had met Adaliya in Kenya, while conducting training scenarios with the Kenya Defense Forces. Britain’s Ministry of Defence had long maintained a cooperation agreement that allowed British soldiers to train in hot conditions on rugged terrains. Adaliya, a criminal lawyer, had been hired by the British government to defend two SAS soldiers under Oxley’s command accused of assaulting a Kenya Air Force general. Oxley had fallen for her immediately. Her laugh and mischievous smile had enchanted him. He had no idea what an accomplished woman like her had ever wanted to do with a poor soldier like him, but she had stirred his soul in a way he had never thought possible. At the end of the trial, where she had successfully defended the SAS troopers, she had given Oxley her number in London.

Once he was back in Britain, he had called the number, half expecting a cashier from the local grocery store to pick up. To his utmost surprise, it had been Adaliya’s voice at the other end of the line. A week later, he had proposed to her with a ￡500 engagement ring. They were married the next month.