Sadness overwhelmed her, pain thrumming in her heart.
Gabrielle leaned forward in her chair. “Nikos was deeply fucked up. I still can’t believe he was Ares, but in addition to illegal arms deals, we know he murdered Xi-Ping and her brother in cold blood, then framed Chi as Ares. And it looks like he executed General Jemwa as well. The effect this will have on international relations is immeasurable; the State Department will have its hands full for months untangling this mess.”
If only she’d known how ill he was, maybe she could have helped somehow. All the hostages she had helped over the years, and the one who had needed her most was her own brother.
“We also found evidence in Xi-Ping’s room proving that she poisoned Peter Kennedy.”
She tried to concentrate on what Gabrielle was saying. “Killing the competition?”
“Actually, it looks as if Kennedy was the leak. Initially he shared proprietary details about the Paris Industries offer with her, but then he turned the tables and tried to extort her. He chose the wrong target.”
Xi-Ping was beautiful and deadly—no doubt that was why Nikos had been drawn to her.
Gabrielle went on. “Kennedy probably saw this as an opportunity to cash in, but he had no idea who he was dealing with.” Gabrielle sighed. “But we shouldn’t be talking about all this now. You need to rest. You have two cracked ribs, a broken wrist, innumerable lacerations, bruising all over, including a nice shiner, possible concussion . . .”
And a fractured heart. Thea’s bones would heal, but she wasn’t sure about the rest. Her family had imploded. Papa had made some very poor decisions, and Nikos . . . His long-ago abduction had twisted his psyche, and his seething hatred of their father had made him a monster. And he’d come close to destroying them all.
She thought of Mamadou. “Is Prime Minister Kimweri okay?”
“Yes, he held a press conference a few hours ago. He declared the emergency over and offered amnesty to any soldiers who had participated in the coup and wanted to return home.”
“Smart. I’m relieved he’s safe.”
“He also announced that Paris Industries won the bid for the Kanzi oil rights.” Gabrielle gave her a sad smile. “Needless to say, the US government is pleased about that development.”
“Papa told me he had the contract all along. The summit was just for show. And you know that he faked his own kidnapping—at least at first.” She studied the cast on her arm. “Is anything as it seems? Anyone?”
Gabrielle shook her head. “I don’t know. Look how I misjudged Maximillian Heros.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t easy to fire that shot,” Thea empathized. “And thank you for saving us.”
“I spent days with him and had no idea he was the kidnapper. I . . . I cared about him. It scares me that we can’t see what’s right in front of us.”
“We all have our blind spots.”
“Max was twisted enough to think he was doing me a favor, handing me Ares on a silver platter. And he manipulated Henri into helping kidnap Christos.” She sighed. “Still, shooting him was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “We’ll be arriving in Johannesburg in fifteen minutes. Prepare for landing.”
“I’d better get back to my seat. I have a car waiting to take you to the hospital.”
“Thanks, Gabrielle—for everything. You’re not half bad for a Fed.”
She nodded, a sad smile on her face. “You’re not half bad for a contractor, either.”
Chapter Eighty-Two
Battered and bruised, Thea stood outside her father’s room, grateful for the pain meds flowing through her bloodstream. Gabrielle had snuck her in via the rear entrance to avoid the hordes of press out front.
Machines beeped, nurses hovered, and endless bouquets dominated the room. Standing in the doorway, she could see Rif and Hakan at Papa’s bedside, the three of them absorbed in quiet conversation.
Her father’s body had taken an extraordinary beating—from the beatings from Max and Nikos to his fall off the bridge to his near drowning in the Zambezi. But the worst injury was the gunshot wound, which had become septic from the river water. All his systems were crashing when they first brought him in, and he’d nearly died. They were able to save him, but they’d had to amputate his leg below the knee. For such an active and dynamic man, the loss wouldn’t be easy, and the road to recovery would be slow.
She hobbled into his hospital room. Rif stood, offering her the chair closest to her father.
She sat down and reached for her father’s hand. “How are you feeling, Papa?” While part of her wanted to hug him, part of her wanted to strangle him. What the hell had he been thinking?