“Declan would see us coming a mile away with his background. Adrian is a little more trustworthy, especially when it comes to money and those who have it. Getting into his good graces means we have a better chance of being introduced to Declan under the guise of a business offer coming from a reputable source. We’ve been trying to set up a meeting with Adrian for a while now, but have had little luck until this week,” Nazari said.
A holopic showing Adrian at an event in his casino, smiling for the cameras, popped up beside Declan’s.
“The original plan was to send in Brannigan and Dvorkin as ex-Strike Force operatives to infiltrate their ranks. Declan only hires ex-military, preferably ex-Special Forces. Our plans changed once we realized the Pavluhkins might be in the mix. We can’t double up your backgrounds, so we sent Delaney in to initiate contact with Adrian through Root Source, Inc. in the hopes of getting an introduction with Declan.”
Nazari flung a few more command windows at the center of the table. Sean recognized the financial information from his review of North Star International a few weeks back. Glancing down at his terminal, Sean sorted through the files with his right hand.
“The Wolcotts may reside in Las Vegas, but they also own a ten thousand-acre working ranch in western Montana that’s been in their family for longer than they’ve been in the casino business. Their parents died in a car crash five years ago and the property reverted to the sons. As far as we know, Adrian left all the business decisions regarding it to his brother. Declan shuttered the vacation lodges on the property, essentially gutting the business his parents used to run, and turned the property into a training camp for his company.”
“That’s not really out of the ordinary from a business perspective, right? So what’s the problem?” Donovan asked.
“None of those decisions would be a problem if the area wasn’t a known hotbed of Sons of Adam activity and if Declan hadn’t been seen in the presence of one of their strongest supporters.”
Everyone around the table collectively grimaced. The Sons of Adam was a homegrown terrorist group with nativist tendencies, and weren’t above fielding metahumans from time to time. Their ideology was tantalizing to a certain subset of people. The fact that they’d managed to recruit metahumans in the past meant the MDF would always have an eye on the group.
A couple more holopics popped up into the air, showing Declan shaking hands with Senator Mark Graham from Montana in what looked like the senator’s office in D.C.
“Senator Graham is the Chairman of the Senate Appropriations Subcommittee on Defense. The Wolcotts donated quite a bit of money to his recent re-election campaign. Could be the glad-handing is merely thanks for the donations, but we dug a little deeper. It seems North Star International has received several plum contracts from federal agencies that got a boost in funding over the last few years due to earmarks added by Senator Graham. The quid pro quo can’t be proven, but it’s there if you read between the lines hard enough.”
“You’d have to read pretty deep for that,” Jamie said as he studied the holopic. “For the most part, nothing seems out of the ordinary there.”
Nazari nodded. “Most of it wouldn’t be, except quite a few security contracts Declan has accepted involve the Vitae Neurotherapeutics biotech lab that shares a border with the ranch. Dr. Valerie Hayes owns and runs the privately held company. You may not know her, but you know her father. Timothy Hayes led the Sons of Adam on the side for almost a decade before finally going to jail for murder.”
Alpha Team leaned forward at the mention of a biotech lab. Ever since finding out that the Pavluhkins, through their control of the Presnenskaya Bratva, were working in conjunction with other terrorist groups around the world to try to create metahumans for their own use, the MDF and its affiliates had been playing catch-up. No solid lead had shown up regarding the labs where the terrorist groups were conducting torturous experiments on people using Splice.
Until now, apparently.
“What’s their Biosafety level?” Katie asked.
“Four,” Nazari replied.
“That’s high enough to handle restricted chemicals.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, having that ranking doesn’t necessarily mean they have clearance to handle the specific chemicals needed to create Splice. Which is why we need more information.” Nazari gestured at the data shining brightly in the center of the conference table. “The evidence linking them—Wolcott, Hayes, and Graham—together right now is circumstantial at best. But paired with what we do know about the Pavluhkins and the criminal alliance they’re leading, it was enough to get a FISA court order to monitor those three.”
Sean wasn’t at all surprised about that revelation. He’d previously been briefed on the possible collusion between the Wolcotts, Valerie Hayes, and Senator Graham before being handed the Wolcotts mission. That the MDF had gone before the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court and been granted a court order for surveillance warrants to spy on a member of Congress and American citizens meant the director believed this was an avenue worth looking into.
“When does the order go into effect?” Katie asked.
“It already has, but we all know there are ways to hide your digital trail. Setting up a surveillance connection on the Wolcotts and Hayes has been exceedingly difficult so far. Senator Graham we have covered, but not the other two. Our best hope is direct access to Declan’s property, and that’s where Root Source, Inc. comes in. If we go through Adrian, who has his brother’s ear and can vouch for our people and our company, we have a better shot at getting that access.”
“How clean is North Star International?” Jamie wanted to know. “Any chance we could go after it from a business regulations angle as well?”
Nazari switched out the financial records on the holoscreen for a list of court cases across various jurisdictions. “We’re working on it. North Star International keeps getting federal contracts, but they’ve racked up quite a few lawsuits over the years. For the most part, they’re sued over loss of life. Standing is usually held by spouses left behind by some of their deceased employees, though several foreign civilians have sued in an effort to target the US government. Most of the lawsuits have either been sent to private arbitration that ended in a confidential settlement or they’ve been thrown out of court for lack of standing. Very little of the litigation makes its way into the media sphere.”
Jamie frowned, staring at the data in his terminal. “A bad rep is still something we can work with.”
“Right now, we’re focusing on getting into the Wolcotts’ and Hayes’ security systems to find out what dirty deals they’ve agreed to. Being vouched for by Stanislav Pavluhkin will only burnish our credentials with these kinds of people. That’s a way in I don’t want to lose, but we’re still bound by the current situation where your cover identities are concerned. Delaney has already explained away your absence to Adrian Wolcott while they were being held in New Miami, Callahan.”
Sean watched as Jamie’s attention shifted from the information at hand to the director. Other than his unwavering gaze, Sean couldn’t see any hint of tension in Jamie’s body, even though he knew it had to be there.
“Then we give them a new explanation. Updating everyone’s itinerary is an easy fix to make,” Jamie pointedly said.
Nazari shook his head. “We move too quickly, put too many of you on the field, and we’re liable to spook them. Delaney got us an invite as Adrian Wolcott’s special guest and we’re running with that. He and Dvorkin will head to Las Vegas with Brown, Chan, and Sanchez as backup to embed themselves in the Wolcotts’ inner circle. The sooner we get them on the ground and get surveillance bugs in place, the better. You and Brannigan will still be on the campaign trail and unavailable. Ovechkina will be in the UK on business with Donovan as her bodyguard. She’ll factor in later for the actual hacking.”
While it sounded easy, Sean knew the mission would be anything but simple. Forging a relationship with people took time and money. T
rust wasn’t going to happen in a couple of days, which meant it would probably take multiple trips and meetings over the course of weeks before they got any chance of closing out a business deal and getting into the Wolcotts’ security system, to say nothing of Hayes’.
“I don’t like it,” Jamie said after a heavy pause.
“You don’t have to like it, Callahan. You just have to follow my orders,” Nazari told him.
Sean had heard that tone from the director before, and it usually resulted in everyone toeing the line. As an agent, and a metahuman, Sean was privy to more information than the average person working at the MDF, but he didn’t—would never—know everything. What he did know was all the various missions that put boots on the ground resulted in bits and pieces building into a solid picture the director was putting together to help keep the nation safe. That work was important, and Sean would always believe that.
He thought Jamie, coming from the Marines Corps, would believe it too. But belief was a tricky thing, and would always ring with a different truth for everyone. Sean had seen it in London, the way Jamie’s concern for his team took precedence above almost everything else. To Jamie, the mission would almost always come first, but he’d be damned certain he got every last member of his team out with him on the other side.
Jamie never took his eyes off the director, the anger in his voice impossible to see in his face. Sean was quietly impressed at Jamie’s control.
“You’ve already had Delaney running missions without us and vice versa. If you want to make sure we don’t miss anything, then we need to all be on the same page. Going in as a team would solve that.”
“You’re informed of what you need to know,” Nazari replied.
“Need to know isn’t good enough with these people, especially not with Stanislav and his precognition power.”
“May I remind you that it’s your father who is running for the presidency, not you? And neither he, nor you, are sitting in the White House as of yet. Neither of you are in any position to be giving me orders.”
Jamie tilted his head in a way that could be read as either agreement or mockery. Sean mentally took notes on the way Jamie’s sheer presence could command the room. He doubted it would be something he could duplicate in the field for a cover without extensive practice. Some traits and habits were inherent to a person, incapable of being learned by others. That didn’t mean Sean wouldn’t try.
“If you don’t want us to make a mistake where the Pavluhkins are concerned, then put Delaney on secondment to us for any future missions concerning the cover Root Source, Inc. provides. In the event something goes wrong, Alpha Team should be called in for his extraction. Sending anyone else will give the appearance of MDF support, which we’ve done our hardest to minimize,” Jamie said flatly.
Nazari raised an eyebrow. “I think this is an actual first. You asking to bring someone onto your team.”
“I do what’s best for my team and Delaney thinks quick on his feet.”
Sean blinked, hiding his surprise with long practice. Jamie’s praise was noteworthy only because everyone at the MDF knew Jamie’s expectations were ridiculously high.
“I’ll have Stirling put in the paperwork,” Nazari said after a moment. “Agent Delaney?”
“Yes, sir?” Sean asked, looking down the table at the director.
“Reach out to Adrian Wolcott. Let him know you want to take him up on that offer for a visit.”
“I’ll call tomorrow.”
“Call today.”
Sean shook his head. “Adrian will be too focused on his wife to care about anything else right now. Tomorrow will give us a better chance at catching him in an agreeable mood. I’ll make the call under the guise of asking after her health and responding to his earlier offer for a visit.”
“Fine. Report in afterward.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nazari got to his feet and nodded a dismissal. “Find something to do that isn’t here.”
The director was the first one out of the room. Despite his exhaustion, Sean had half a mind to make his way down to his office in the intelligence division to start his after-action report. Elena could use that information to help plan their upcoming mission in Las Vegas.
Alexei nudged Sean in the arm, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the door. “We go. Doctor’s order.”
“I have work to do,” Sean protested.
“Don’t even think about disobeying my girl. She’ll find out and read you the riot act,” Donovan warned from the other side of the table.
“Go home, Sean,” Jamie said without looking away from his terminal. “You took a couple of hard hits in New Miami and regen regimes are exhausting, even with Gracie to counteract the side-effects. The mission will keep until tomorrow.”
Sean wanted to argue, because they were already on a short timetable, but he opted not to. Being under medical orders to take it easy gave him an excuse to go home and sleep the rest of the day and night away.
Annabelle patted him on the shoulder as she stood up, flashing him a quick smile. “Welcome to the team.”
“Thanks,” Sean muttered.
Alexei got to his feet, looking across the table at Kyle. “See you back at apartment?”
No one missed the way Kyle’s eyes darted briefly over to where Jamie sat, talking quietly with Katie. “Yeah,” he said, lying through his teeth.
Sean stood up, dragging the file with the mission briefing off the table’s computer and into his personal tablet Elena had delivered to him in Medical. He’d lost the tablet full of dummy data to Antonovich’s people while being held in New Miami. This particular one only ever traveled with him between headquarters and his home.
He swiped through the options on the screen, frowning down at it when he realized he had several notifications and a missed call from his mother. The time stamp was from last night when his comms were burned out. Not that he ever answered any calls or messages from his family while in the field. Their communications were rerouted for him to deal with whenever he returned from his various missions. His lengthier absences had always been an issue with his parents and brothers, a problem that could only be explained away by a busy, mediocre job for so long before Sean earned a reputation within the family as being unreachable.
Sean biolocked the tablet; he’d deal with his parents later. For the moment, he let Alexei hustle him out of the conference room and lead him to the subterranean garage, bypassing the intelligence division completely on the way down. Apparently, Alexei was intent on following Gracie’s orders.
The car Alexei drove was more of a sportier model than the one Sean owned and had left at his apartment the other day. He’d taken a cab to the airport on the agency’s credit. Come to think of it, he needed to send in an expense report to get reimbursed. Jamie wasn’t the only one billing the government for these missions.
Sean got in the front passenger seat and buckled up while Alexei started the engine. He took in the car with a few quick glances; mostly clean, with nothing of note left inside. It could’ve belonged to anyone, that’s how little personality it had.
“Like music?” Alexei asked as he pulled out of the spot and headed for the exit.
“You’re the driver,” Sean said.
“Is fine. Whatever you want.”
Sean shrugged and tapped at the control panel embedded in the dash, choosing a stream station at random. The rock music that spilled through the speakers filled the silence as Alexei drove them off base. The music wasn’t loud enough to drown out the growling of his stomach though.
“Not feed you in Medical?” Alexei asked with a slight frown.
“Had an IV and a nutrient bar.”
Alexei snorted. “Is not food.”
Sean didn’t really argue that. Metahumans had a faster metabolism than everyone else, a byproduct of their powers. It took a lot of energy and a lot of food to keep them functioning. The MDF subsidized their food costs, which was helpful.
“I�
�ll eat at home.”
“Can pick something up or make for you.”
“I’m not allowed to drive, that doesn’t mean I can’t cook,” Sean retorted.
Alexei ignored him, humming along to the current song. Sean had forgotten how stubborn he could be. Alexei hadn’t left him alone at the beginning of their mission while in London for reasons Sean figured out later concerned Kyle and Jamie. It seemed he was repeating that method here, only for different reasons.
His comms going off with an incoming call jerked Sean out of his internal musings. He looked down at his left arm, seeing the newly implanted bioware flash his mother’s name through his unmarked skin.
“Shit,” Sean muttered before answering, rubbing carefully at his eyes. “Hi, Mom. I’m working late on a project and can’t talk for very long.”
“Here I thought I’d have to leave another message,” Dr. Naomi Delaney said, sounding a little irritated.
Sean didn’t know if that was because he’d picked up the call or if she was at the tail end of her twelve-hour shift as a trauma surgeon at New Seattle General. He’d grown up with both his parents working long hours, but his mother always seemed to be the busiest of the two.
He ignored the questioning look Alexei shot him and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “Haven’t gotten to the one you left me.”
“Your brothers are taking a two-week break before they head to Europe for the last leg of their tour. They’ll be in town for your father’s birthday next week. Will you be joining us for his birthday dinner for once?”
Sean pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to swear. One of the notifications on his tablet was probably about his father’s birthday. Greg Delaney, a United States District Court judge, was turning fifty-nine this year, and Sean had missed his father’s last four birthdays due to work.
“I may be traveling for business, but we’ll see,” Sean hedged. “I’ll let you know.”
In the Shadows (Metahuman Files Book 3) Page 8