Blood pounded in Clive’s ears. He felt lightheaded. He wanted to wrap his hands around Harry’s throat. He wanted to kill him, right here and now. But he knew better. Harry was too big, too strong, too brutal. Too good.

  “I’m not sure how you expected this to end,” Harry said, almost whimsically. “All your political friends in Canberra are probably shitting themselves right now.”

  “It was never . . . it was never supposed . . . They wanted more money. It was never enough—”

  “Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear one excuse out of your filthy mouth. It’s too late. It’s all over. You can expect the cops to come rolling in at any minute. Now, I dunno if it’ll be the feds, or military police, or even state. Never did get the jurisdiction thing. Either way, you’re screwed.”

  All Clive could do was shake his head. Harry was lying. This was all bullshit. He wanted money. That had to be it. “I can give you—”

  “You can’t bribe or pay your way out of this. You’re going down. Personally, I wanted to kill you for what you did to Asher, in a spectacularly painful way, maybe do to you what they did to him. But this really was better.” He sighed happily. “You’ll be pleased to know a good portion of your money has gone back to Professor Taleb’s wife and her three boys. And if you think you can make a plea deal, if you think you can give them me and Asher as a trade-off, think again. One, Asher Garin doesn’t exist. Two, I’m not even in this country right now. And three . . .” Harry’s voice dropped low, cold as steel. “You will take full responsibility for everything you have done or I will scrub every trace of your DNA off this planet. Starting with everyone that’s at your house today. Understand?”

  Clive thought he might vomit. His vision was going blurry. The world was spinning way too fast.

  A siren sounded in the distance, and Harry cocked his ear. “Oh, right on cue.”

  Clive was cold all over. “I trusted you,” he said, struggling to speak at all. “Ten years ago. I trusted you to do what had to be done. You were my first mistake.”

  “No. Your first mistake was sending Asher to kill me. Not because you wanted me dead, not because you betrayed your country. But because by giving Asher to me, you gave me a reason to live. That was your first mistake.”

  The sirens grew louder, too loud. Not a common sound in this expensive suburb. Then men were walking through his house. A team of them. Some of them in military uniforms, some of them in suits.

  Linda was panicked, trying to stop them. “What is this? What are you doing? Clive, what’s happening?”

  All his friends and family stood, watching. Horrified.

  He didn’t hear a word of what the men in suits said. All he could see were the faces of his kids, his grandkids, his wife.

  And Harry smiling.

  Clive was escorted out through his house, through his gathered family, and when he scanned the crowd, searching for one last look at that smug son of a bitch’s face, to burn it into his memory, he couldn’t find him.

  Tim “Harry” Harrigan was gone.

  Harry got into the passenger side of the car, still smiling. “Let’s go.”

  Asher grinned at him. He’d been listening to the whole transaction, of course. “How do you feel?”

  He couldn’t actually describe how he felt. There were no words that captured it. “Good. I feel real good. And relieved.”

  “His face?”

  “Priceless.”

  “Was it worth it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Asher laughed. “You told him I was watching.”

  “Well, he assumed that. I just didn’t correct him. I did a stupid hand signal thing where I put up fingers, like if I got to three you’d take out one of his grandkids.”

  Asher laughed so hard he winced and held his ribs. “I heard. I almost choked on my mint.”

  The truth was, Asher was waiting in the car for him down the street. He was listening, of course, and watching for anyone who entered. But there was never any gun.

  Harry sighed, an unspoken weight now off his shoulders. “His face when he saw me, oh my God. And the more I spoke, the greyer his face got. And to see him handcuffed, in front of his entire family, on his wife’s birthday. Fucking poetry right there.”

  Asher laughed again and reached for Harry’s hand as he drove. “We leaving Sydney now?” He looked at the GPS map on the dash screen. “Going north, yes?”

  “Yep. Head for the M1.”

  “Do we know what we’re looking for?”

  Harry smiled and kissed the back of Asher’s hand. “Nope. We’ll know when we find it.”

  And find it, they did.

  Two weeks later, after driving up the coast of northern New South Wales, staying in the coastal towns and cities, Harry drove them inland. Purely on a whim, for something to do. “There was a cute little town up this way, I remember as a kid,” he said. The hinterland was green rainforests and farming land. Scenic, quiet, tranquil.

  The town was still there, still cute. Still small. Not much but a local store, a hardware, a bakery, and a town hall. They grabbed a late lunch from the bakery and ate it in the park, in the filtered sunlight to a chorus of birds.

  “Far removed from running along rooftops in Madrid,” Asher said. His hair was a little longer now, curls that Harry adored. “Or passing through rebel checkpoints in the Arabian Desert.”

  Harry chuckled. “Seems like a lifetime ago.”

  The news of Clive Parrish’s fall from grace was still front-running news. After all, when the Director of the Special Operations Command of Australia’s Defence Force is charged with crimes like espionage, murder, fraud, treason, embezzlement, and about another dozen lesser things, it was always going to be huge. And not just him. There were five senators in jail with him.

  It rattled the entire country, especially all levels of politics and military. The case itself could take years, and considering the international interest, every detail would be scrutinised.

  The media had grabbed hold of one part of the information they’d been given.

  Operation Milvus.

  When Timothy “Harry” Harrigan’s name was brought up as an agent sent overseas a decade ago, a death certificate magically appeared, dated 2016, Syria—courtesy of Yunho, of course—and a red line was drawn through Harry’s name. Just like that.

  He didn’t mind one bit.

  In fact, he felt an immense relief.

  It wasn’t who he was anymore, and if letting go of his past would help him shape a new future, he was okay with that.

  “What’s out that way?” Asher asked, pointing to a road leading out of town, opposite the way they’d come.

  “No idea. Let’s go find out.”

  The road was narrow. The scenery would go from tall trees to cleared farmland, back to forest, as it snaked its way around the mountains. It was beautiful out this way—

  “Stop the car,” Asher said. Then he yelled. “Stop the fucking car!”

  Harry pulled off the road the best he could and slammed the brakes. “What’s wrong?”

  Asher got out and almost fell down the embankment. Harry had first thought maybe he was ill. He got out and raced around the front of the car to check on him. “Are you okay?”

  But Asher wasn’t ill. He looked around, his eyes wide, and put his hand to his mouth.

  Harry had never seen him like that. “Asher, baby. What is it?”

  “This road. This right here. Here!”

  “What about it?”

  “I’ve dreamed of this. I thought it was a memory, but how can it be?” His eyes were still wide, a little teary now. “This road is the place I told you about. Harry, I’ve dreamed of this. Of here.”

  Holy shit.

  “When you thought you were with your parents?”

  He shrugged. “I just felt loved.” He shook his head and began to cry. “I knew when I was here I was safe and loved. I didn’t know . . . I didn’t know what love was. I just assumed . . . I wanted it to be my mother so much.”

  Oh, man.

  Harry wrapped his arms around him while he cried and kissed the side of his head. “I got you, baby.”

  “It wasn’t my parents. It was you who loved me.”

  He rubbed Asher’s back. That one memory, that one feeling, was all he ever thought he had of his parents, and now he didn’t even have that. “I’m sorry.”

  He pulled back, sniffling and wiping his face. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not sad. I mean, I am, but I’m also happy. It was you, Harry. Always.”

  Harry cupped his face in both his hands, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. “Always.”

  He nodded and more tears welled in his eyes, but he laughed. “I think I found where I’m supposed to be.”

  Harry kissed him. “I think so too.”

  EPILOGUE

  The place they ended up buying was just a few kilometres up the road. It was three hundred and eighty hectares of land that wasn’t much use for anything other than billy goats and hunting. Mountains, rocky cliffs, water streams, and trees.

  It wasn’t originally for sale, but Harry expressed interest, offered way over market value, and the deal went through without a hitch.

  When he’d promised to give Asher everything he deserved, he meant it.

  There wasn’t even a house on it. Well, not what many people would call a house. It was a large barn-style shed made of wood and steel, mostly run down, but it had a kitchen and a bathroom. The last owners had put it there years ago, intending to build a proper house that never happened.

  It was all open space, one huge room with an old pot-belly stove, and a large porch that looked down to the valley below. There were no neighbours. They were surrounded by a few kilometres of forest. The shed itself was in need of a lot of work, but it was absolutely perfect.

  As soon as Asher had walked in, he looked around and grinned. “Yunho would be horrified,” he said with a laugh. “But Harry, this is it.”

  Twelve months on, they spent all their time building and fixing the place. They acquired some weapons, they hunted, they made target ranges on their property, and they often had competitions on accuracy, speed, and agility. They made slow love, they fucked hard, and some days they never left their bed at all. They fought too, over stupid shit like cooking and cleaning, sometimes over the shooting competitions, but for the most part, living with Asher was pure and utter perfection.

  Harry had bought an old Patrol ute because the Jag wasn’t built for trips to the hardware or driving along the track through their property. Personally, he preferred the old, beat-up four-wheel drive over the brand-new luxury car.

  This particular day, he’d gone to town for their weekly supply run. He’d been to the grocery store and the hardware, and of course the bakery. Harry had once made the mistake of making Asher try a lamington and now he had to buy him one every week.

  He carried the bags inside and saw that Asher was perched up on his favourite recliner, FaceTiming on the laptop with Yunho. They’d been back to visit him once in the last year and were planning to go again in a few months.

  Harry took a small tin of mints out of the bag, walked it over to Asher, and gave Yunho a wave. “Hey.”

  Yunho waved on screen, and Asher grinned at Harry. There was a peacefulness in his eyes. “Is that everything out of the truck?”

  “One more. I’ll get it.”

  He continued his conversation with Yunho and Harry went back out to the ute. The last thing was a box from the front seat and he carried it carefully back inside.

  “What have you got there?” Asher asked. “Did you buy me a cake?”

  Harry snorted. “No. It’s not a cake.” He put the box on the couch beside Asher. “Open it.”

  Asher’s eyes went wide. “Is it for me? Is it a MAC 50?”

  Harry laughed. The box was nowhere near big enough for that. “Not quite.”

  Asher opened the box and gasped. He looked up at Harry. “Are you serious?” He smiled, stunned and teary-eyed, then gently picked up the tiny black kitten. He cradled it to his chest. “Oh my God, Yunho, look! A baby. Harry, you got me a baby.”

  Well, it was a baby cat, but yes. “There was a box of them at the hardware. They’re eight weeks old—”

  “There was a box of them?” Asher yelled. “And you only got one?”

  “Oh no,” Harry lied. “No. That’s not what I said.”

  Yunho laughed on the screen. “I’ll let you go. Good luck, Harry.”

  The screen went black.

  Not that Asher cared. He was still staring at Harry. “There was more?”

  “No. I mean, there was. But that was the last one.”

  “You lie.”

  Harry blinked, backpedalling as fast as he could. “I’m pretty sure that was the last one.”

  “Harry.”

  He ignored the death-stare and patted the little kitten that Asher was still holding to his chest. “Look at her, Asher. I saw her and I knew you’d love her. Please don’t be mad.”

  Asher did look at her then, properly. He held her close to his nose, she meowed at him, the tiniest little meow, and he snuggled her into his neck. “She is perfect. And I’m not mad.”

  Harry leaned in and kissed Asher’s lips. “You get to name her.”

  “I do?”

  “Of course you do. She’s yours.”

  “I’ve never had a pet before.” He pouted and held her out in his hands to get a proper look at her. She was all black with blue eyes, a bit on the small side, but cute as a button. “She’s so little,” he whispered, then held her to his chest again. “Mala.”

  “Mala?” Harry wasn’t opposed, he just wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly.

  Asher kissed the top of the kitten’s head. “It means ‘my little one’ in Croatian.”

  Harry kissed the top of Asher’s head. “Then it’s perfect.” He got up from the couch and went to the kitchen to finish putting the groceries away. “I bought some kitten food from the shop but I don’t know if it’s the right one. I got some litter as well, so we’ll have to make her a litter box.”

  He looked over and Asher was still on his recliner, still holding and snuggling Mala.

  “Did you want to feed her?” Harry asked. “She’ll know you’re her dadda if you feed her first.”

  Asher walked to the kitchen area, keeping Mala tucked against his chest. “I’m her dadda,” he murmured. “And you’re her papa. Harry, look at how beautiful she is!”

  Oh hell. Harry had created a sap.

  Asher was absolutely beaming. He took the kitten food and sat at the table with her and began to feed her. She was hungry. “You know,” Asher said, “I should have told Yunho just to go ahead with the fake marriage certificate with the citizen papers. It would have been easier. And then little Mala here would have two daddies for real.”

  Harry laughed . . . until he realised exactly what Asher had said. He turned to stare at him. “What?”

  Asher glanced his way but went back to feeding Mala. He shrugged. “He asked me if I wanted that. When he was sorting out the citizenship paperwork. He said he could just throw that in. I thought he was joking. I said I didn’t really think you’d be up for that, so he didn’t include it.”

  Harry stood there, the can of beans in his hand forgotten. “Asher . . .”

  He shrugged again. “It’s not like we’re religious people who need to stand before some God to declare anything. I certainly don’t care what the government thinks.”

  Harry put the can on the counter and sat in the seat beside him. “Would it be fake, though?”

  Asher smiled as he fed Mala another piece of her kitten food. “Well, yeah. As fake as all the other documents we have. I mean, they’re real. But they’re just not obtained legally. So you’d be marrying Joshua.”

  “No, I’d be marrying Asher.”

  His eyes cut to Harry’s, and he stared for a long moment. “What are you saying?”

  He laughed, because God, was he really doing this? “I’m just saying that if Yunho gave us a marriage certificate as part of our paperwork, I wouldn’t have minded. That’s all.” He licked his lips and swallowed. “If you want to get rings so it looks real . . . or not, I don’t mind either way. And no, personally, I don’t need no government or religious approval. I’d just need to know that you wanted to do it. Then it’d be real to me.”

  “Harry,” he whispered.

  “It’s just a piece of paper, right?” Harry joked, trying to lighten the mood because he had a sinking feeling that Asher did not want it. “Like money is just numbers.” He gave Mala a quick pat on the head and stood up.

  Asher grabbed his hand.

  “Not to me,” he whispered. “It’s not just a piece of paper to me.”

  Harry sat back down.

  “It would be the first legitimate certificate I would have. The first real one. With my name. The real me.” He frowned, teary now. “I don’t exist anywhere on paper. So no, it wouldn’t just be a piece of paper. It will be proof that I ever existed. So please don’t say it like that.”

  “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t think.” Harry scooted his chair in closer, their knees touching. He slid his hand along Asher’s cheek. “It wouldn’t just be a piece of paper to me either. It would be real, and if you want to make it really real, we can get married for real on Yunho’s beach and he and Lucas would be our witnesses. But I’ll be marrying you. Not Joshua or any other fake name. The real Asher Garin. That’s who I would marry. Our real names on the certificate.”

  Asher chuckled through his tears. “You would do that for me?”

  “I would do anything for you. Anything.”

  “You give me this news and a baby kitten in one day?”

  Harry kissed him softly. “And you gave me a reason to live, so let’s call us even.”

  He wiped his cheek and held Mala close to his chest. “Do you think she would care if her dadda and papa are married?”

  Harry chuckled. “I don’t think she’d care either way.”

 

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