by Wasp, A. E.
“Wes, grab your laptop for me?” Leo asked. “And Josie? I think we’re gonna need more coffee. I have an idea…”
15 Steele
“I’m in.”
I exhaled softly at Ridge’s voice in my ear. The kid was good. Really good. Florists, housecleaners, caterers, and waiters had been in and out of Senator Harlan’s suburban mansion all day. Even though I’d been watching for him, I hadn’t seen Ridge enter the house; hadn’t even known he was there until he’d said my name over the comms.
At our last-minute meeting earlier in the day, I’d given him a list of places I thought he could hide and the location of every computer I’d found during my grand tour of the premises as Harlan’s new head of security. There was one desktop in the office, which didn’t look like it got used a lot, and the senator’s laptop, which he kept in his bedroom when he wasn’t using it.
The good news was that the senator didn’t have any on-site security beyond me, the hired muscle guarding the VIP rooms where the hookers would be partying, and one other guy who was stationed at the front door with the woman checking the IDs of the workers coming to set up for the party. There were no foot patrols to worry about, no guy with a gun sitting at a desk watching monitors. It would have almost been too easy, if not for the really, really bad news I’d learned.
I’d been able to find a couple of Harlan’s hidden blackmail cameras, and they’d been the kind that recorded on tape. Digital tape, sure, but it still meant that in order to take away all of Harlan’s leverage over the powerful men of D.C., we’d have to find an actual, physical tape, like a needle in a goddamn haystack, as well as any copies the senator might have saved online.
Considering this house was only slightly smaller than Charlie’s, with about a million bedrooms, bathrooms, closets, game rooms, and a big fucking yacht parked outside where he could hide his safe, this was kind of like climbing Everest at night in a swimsuit. I only hoped that Harlan was the kind of old-school rich guy who kept his stuff in a safe behind a picture of some long-dead relative or a knock-off Van Gogh.
That was where Ridge came in. He now had two jobs at tonight’s party. One, insert a Wesley-provided flash drive that would not only destroy any copies of the files on Harlan’s computers but apparently could somehow fly up into the cloud and destroy any backup copies there. And for the bonus round, he also had to find the senator’s safe, crack it, and pray the original tapes we wanted were in there.
Though really, the idea Leo, Carson, and Wesley had come up with to get the senator to publicly incriminate himself was good enough for me. If it worked, it would scare Harlan away from Breck even if it didn’t result in a jail sentence and render the senator utterly powerless.
So now we just had to make sure it fucking worked.
After scoping out the house as best I could, we’d worked out a few different plans based on the most likely scenarios. Flexibility was key in any mission.
The senator might be a moron, but he was a hypocritical, dangerous moron who had almost killed Breck and Danny once and almost definitely had plans to finish the job tonight. My biggest worry was that I didn’t know how he planned to do it. My money was on a quiet execution in the senator’s very dark, very private, soundproof wine cellar. Since the senator wasn’t a man who did his own dirty work, we knew the task would fall to me. What better way to test your brand-new head of security than to make him commit a double homicide his first day on the job, right?
Harlan had questioned me several times about my loyalty and the lengths I was willing to go for an employer. I’d made up a bullshit story about being desperate for money to take care of my fictional sister, but he’d bought it a little too easily, confided in me a little too freely. I had a feeling I would end up on his next head of security’s hit list after I’d done my job tonight.
I sighed mentally. No such thing as job security these days.
The problem, though – one of many, really – was that Breck and Danny seemed pretty sure the senator would want to have some ‘fun’ with them before he ordered me to shoot them. Hearing Danny relay this tidbit of information, conveniently while I’d already been at Harlan’s house and unable to lose my shit, I’d ground my teeth so hard, Wesley had bitched about the feedback from my comm.
“I don’t care if the info Charlie has on me goes public,” I’d said to Breck earlier when we were enjoying some last minute alone time before we put the plan into motion. “As long as Harlan stays away from you. You’re what I care about.”
I’d thought I was being romantic. Apparently, I’d been being a dick.
Breck had practically leapt from my arms. “What?”
Much to my dismay, he’d gotten out of the nice, warm bed where I’d been hoping for some awesome pre-mission sex and paced across the carpet, yanking at his hair with both hands. His nakedness made it hard for me to take him seriously.
“So, it’s okay if he beats the shit out of some other kid? Then shows up on the TV preaching about how perverted ‘the gays’ are? It’s okay for you that he’d still have to power to change the fucking laws of the country?” His voice had risen at the end.
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“These guys don’t stop, Steele. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know it.” Give a guy like Harlan get a taste of power that comes with literally getting away with murder, and he wouldn’t want to stop.
“So, as long as I’m okay, that’s fine?” He’d glared at me, hands on his hips.
Part of me had wanted to say yes, but it wasn’t true.
His eyes narrowed. If looks could kill, I would have been flayed to the bone. “Do you think Asadi would be happy knowing you could have stopped a man from hurting boys and you didn’t?”
I flinched, the blood draining from my face. “Fuck you,” I spat. It had been my turn to get out of the bed. “You ain’t got no right to throw that in my face.”
His eyes were huge. “I’m sorry…I didn’t…I shouldn’t have.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” I’d pulled on my shorts.
Rationally, I’d known he was lashing out in fear and anger, but guess what? I was only human. I’d been hurt and angry, and I’d known I needed to leave the room before I said or did something I couldn’t take back.
Goddamn it. The last fucking thing I needed going into this was the memory of Asadi’s eyes staring at me as the life bled out of him.
“Steele…” He’d sounded heartbroken. Good. He should.
“I have to get ready.” I’d grabbed my shirt and walked out of the room.
“That’s it? You’re just going to leave? Fine,” he’d yelled at my back. “Just leave.”
So I had. It hadn’t been my proudest moment.
Ridge’s voice broke through my pity party. “Steele, I’m in the second bedroom now. Give me a heads up if anyone decides to come upstairs.”
“Will do.”
Ridge had already checked the office and one of the bedrooms, and he should be clear as long as he didn’t encounter any of the cleaning staff or the senator himself. After Harlan had made sure his cameras were running, it had been fairly easy for me to put a smear of Vaseline over all the lenses. None of us wanted to be even a background extra in any of the senator’s videos.
Now it was later in the evening and the guests were starting to arrive. At Harlan’s request, I hovered behind him while he greeted his guests, a who’s who of shady businessmen, crooked politicians, and televangelists.
I faked being nervous as Carson came through the door and introduced Leo to the senator. Harlan’s grin was practically predatory at the thought of having his very own FBI agent in his pocket. As far as he was concerned, the fact that Leo was under investigation was icing on the cake. More leverage for him. I knew because he’d talked non-stop all morning about his guest list.
“Senator Harlan, thank you for inviting us to your home,” Carson said as he and Leo came in. He was dressed in one of his own custom-made suits, and
Leo was sporting designer threads Miranda had tailored for him overnight. Money sure did grease the wheels.
“Thank you for contributing to the cause,” Harlan said. “I’m sure we can all agree that we need people in Congress speaking for the hard-working, salt of the Earth Americans who are rightfully upset at the perversions and deplorable lack of morality in our current society.”
He’d given a variation of this speech to every guest, sometimes substituting ‘god-fearing’ for ‘salt of the Earth’ for the more religious guests. I’d estimated about half of the people were there for what they thought was a legitimate fundraiser. They wouldn’t be making any visits to the special party rooms where the hookers waited.
Carson looked my direction and faked surprise and anger. “What is he doing here?” he asked Harlan. “I fired him, you know.”
“I do,” Harlan said. “Luckily for me. I was very impressed with his credentials the first time we met, and it so happened I had an opening in my staff.”
Carson stepped in close to the senator. “Well, my advice? Keep your hands off his ‘credentials.’ He really doesn’t care for it.” He cast me a scathing grin.
It was all I could do not to laugh. Carson was going off-script.
He dropped his voice even lower. “All talk and no action, that one. If you know what I mean.”
“Maybe he’s just particular,” Harlan countered. “I’m sure he and I will have a very cordial relationship.”
He’s had his hands all over my credentials, I subvocalized. I’m gonna need a Silkwood shower.
“I know the feeling,” Breck said, his voice hard. It was the most he had spoken to me since I’d walked out this morning.
I sobered up fast.
Carson sniffed his disbelief. “It’s your money,” he said, like he didn’t care one way or the other. They made a little more small talk, while Leo stood silently by Carson’s side, looking duly impressed by the luxury on display and more than a little envious. Then they excused themselves to go mingle.
The senator turned to great his next guest.
God, this couldn’t be over quick enough for me. Even if I hadn’t known what was going on, how truly slimy some of these bastards were, I was ready to shoot half of these people. They reminded me too much of the bad guys I’d worked for.
There were only a few ethical, legitimate ways to get rich, and sometimes the difference between the bad guys and the good guys was only a matter of who was in charge. As far as I could tell, this fundraiser was nothing but a thinly-veiled excuse for rich people to congratulate themselves for their forethought in being born into wealthy families.
I noticed that the senator’s own wife wasn’t here this evening, which seemed to be the M.O. for most of the guests. I’d amused myself by counting the number of women who were either mistresses or paid escorts. I didn’t judge them. We all had bills to pay and limited choices, as my boyfriend could attest. It just made the prospect of exposing Harlan for the hypocritical prick he was that much more thrilling.
It wasn’t hard to pick them out, nine times out of ten. A beautiful woman over twenty years younger than her partner was either a mistress, an escort, or the guy’s second (or third) wife. The male escorts were either ‘nephews,’ or ‘family friends.’ I didn’t know why people were bringing their own sex toys when the senator had a whole buffet of options to choose from planned for later in the evening.
“John,” a particularly oily specimen said as he shook the senator’s hand. Even Harlan seemed less than thrilled with this guy. “May I introduce my niece, Clara? She starting GW in the fall, and I said I would introduce her around. Get her off on the right foot.”
“Niece,” Wesley snorted, which let me tell you was very annoying when you were hearing it through a comm that transmitted sound directly through the bones of your skull.
Wesley had set up a command center in the house next door that rivaled any war room I’d ever been in.
“How in the world did you get access to that house?” Leo had asked, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his thick, dark hair when Wes had shown us around.
“You look shook, Shook,” Ridge had joked with a grin. It had been nice to see Angel-Face lightening up a bit finally. Patching shit up with Breck had gone a long way towards pulling the stick out of his ass.
“Never gets old,” Danny had said, high-fiving Ridge.
“Oh, it got old in fourth grade,” Leo had informed him. “Trust me.”
“I’ve got a guy,” Wes said, answering Leo’s question with a total non-answer.
Leo had shaken his head ruefully. “I bet you do, Zero. How many of them are on various watch-lists worldwide?”
“We don’t talk about it. It’s considered bragging,” Wes had answered.
Whoever Wesley’s guy was, he or she had come through like a champ. From his lair next door, Wes could monitor all our communications devices and had hacked into the senator’s wi-fi. “Really? The password is 1234!@#$?” he’d muttered. “Guy deserves to be hacked.”
But then Wes had gone a step further and hacked into every device the senator owned that was connected to his wi-fi – devices Harlan would never have imagined could be hacked. The ease with which he had accessed the cameras and mics built into everything from televisions, to Kindles, to cell phones made me want to join the Amish or something. I’d laughed at my buddy who’d put a piece of tape over the camera on his laptop. I wanted to call him and apologize.
It wasn’t paranoia if they really were watching you.
“How many escorts does that make?” Leo asked, pulling me back to the present. He was keeping track as well as he circulated through the party. If things went totally FUBAR, he wanted to make sure the escorts got out before the cops came.
I was really starting to wonder what Leo’s story was.
“Um, six,” Wesley reported.
“And that guy with the tie, remember?” Danny said. “I recognized him.”
He and Breck were stashed at the house with Wesley until it was time for them to make their entrance. Over my many loud and rudely ignored objections, they’d gotten in touch with their pimp—ex-pimp, if I had any say in it, and given Breck’s attitude this morning, I wasn’t sure I did —and told the sleazeball they would be at the senator’s house, but thankfully they’d steadfastly refused to meet with him beforehand despite his insistence.
I turned my attention back to Mr. Slimebag and his ‘niece.’ I’m the last one to judge family relationships, being as my whole life it was just me and my mama, but his grip on the arm of the young lady in question seemed, well, less than avuncular (I liked to read the dictionary as a kid. I was a great person to do crosswords puzzles with).
“Charmed,” the senator said with a smile, taking her hand in the double-handed grip his kind used with the ladies.
I must have made a sound because Clara’s eyes shifted to me.
That was one way I separated the paid companions from the mistresses-slash-trophy wives. The ones who were being paid to be there and play nice looked directly me, assessing whether or not I was going to be a help in case stuff went to hell (which it was going to) or if I was another threat they had to keep an eye on. The gold-diggers ignored me, preferring to scope out the competition and any potential future sugar daddies.
I held the eye contact for a second, looked quickly over at her ‘uncle’ and dipped my chin a millimeter to let her know I had her back. Her shoulders relaxed, and her smile became a little less forced.
I followed Harlan as he worked the crowd, making promises and veiled threats as the situation called for. It took all of my professional experience to not let my revulsion show on my face. The homophobia, racism, and sexism in every casual conversation alone was enough to make me want to punch someone. Add in the obvious influence peddling going on, and I was ready to beg Special Agent Shook to arrest the lot of them.
Occasionally a lone man would make his way to the back room, have a brief chat with one of the meatheads
guarding the door, and come back to the party twenty or thirty minutes later, looking refreshed. I didn’t know who these guys were, but I hoped somebody was keeping a list. You never knew when information could come in handy.
“I have enough info for at least ten investigations,” Leo said, almost silently, covering up the movement of his lips by of taking a sip of his drink. “These guys are worse than you people.”
“Thanks?” Carson said. “You can look at the tape later. Make sure to get their good sides.”
Besides the comms we wore over our teeth to talk to each other, we all had hidden recording devices on us somewhere that transmitted audio and video back to Wesley.
“Next time, you might want to remember to shut that off before you let your boyfriend rip your clothes off,” Wesley had joked as I checked over my button cam. I liked the little doohickey. It had an old-school retro vibe. Made me feel like James Bond. “I’ve got some bad video but good audio of you two from the other night,” he continued. “Or, you know, feel free to leave it on if you’re into that kinda thing, just try to get a better angle. I can’t see shit when the button’s on the floor.”
“Wesley!” Breck had shouted. “You dick!”
Ridge had moved threateningly towards the hacker before I could. “You’d better not have video of my brother, or any of us, Bond,” he’d said.
Wes had chuckled. “I’ll delete it, I promise! Nothing personal from any of you. There aren’t cameras in the rooms, I swear. This stuff just showed up unexpectedly when I was checking out Steele’s footage from the Florida fundraiser.”
I was on hyper alert, keeping count of all the comings and goings of guests, staff, and my team. I ran over the details of the plan multiple time, visualizing our preferred outcome. I was used to a more straightforward, knock-down-the-doors-and-blow-the-bad-guys-up scenario. This circus Wesley, Carson, and Leo had cooked up was new to me.