He cleared his throat. “Yeah, you stay tight—and in case you’ve gotten any bright ideas from that father of hers, let me set you straight. If you do anything to expose me or my organization, I will do things to that woman that she will survive physically and never heal from. And know this: My reach extends beyond my own grave.” More silence. “You’ve met the father—don’t deny it. And I’m well aware he’s been trying to take notes on XOps for the last decade. No bright ideas, Isaac. For her sake. Or I’ll ignore you and come after her. I’ll let you live a long life, knowing that you are the reason she’s ruined from the inside out—”

“She’s not part of this!” Rothe hissed. “She’s got nothing to do with me or her goddamn father!”

“Maybe. But shit happens. And I assigned her to you for a good reason—which panned out better than I thought. I never expected the two of you to get so personally involved—or did you think I didn’t hear what the pair of you got up to in that guest bedroom of hers last night?” Matthias fought against the pain in his chest, feeling as if he were drowning. “Don’t make me hurt her, Isaac. I’m getting tired of all that, I truly am. Stay where you are—I’m sending someone, and you’ll know when he gets there. And if you and her and her father are not there when he arrives, I’m going to have him find her, not you. You follow instructions and I’ll make sure no one but you gets hurt.”

Matthias hit the end button and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.

Wincing, he struggled to keep the car heading straight as the agony behind his ribs swelled to unmanageable levels. Under the onslaught, he briefly thought about driving over to the Caldwell International Airport again, but he decided to keep driving because he needed to get a grip and that was going to take time. And privacy.

Squeezing his left pec, he pulled over and tried to breathe through the pain in his chest. Which didn’t really help much . . . to the point where he wondered whether this was it. The Big One. Just like what had killed off his father.

Looking out of the front windshield, he realized he was in front of a church.

For no good reason, he turned off the engine, picked up his cane and got out. He hadn’t been in anything remotely God-like for years and to be limping toward its huge double doors felt . . . wrong in a lot of ways. Especially given everything that was waiting for him in Boston. But his number two needed time to get things set and Matthias . . . needed this heart attack to either get organized and kick his bucket or shut the fuck up.