Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3)

by HK Savage

Michael shrugged. “We can excuse some involvement, he knows enough to let some basic investigative information slip. Our issue comes only if he starts to ask too many questions or our enemy figures out he’s your dad and go after him.” He offered her a thin smile. “Trust me, I’ve been doing this a while.”

  Her return smile was weak. “Okay.” A shaking hand picked up a file and she sat down to examine the less than titillating last year of the senator’s life as told through his speeches, floor interjections, and each vote he cast. This would be the longest evening of her life.

  ***

  Ed Sauter walked up to the room where he was to report and lifted his hand to knock. Barely had skin rasped on cream painted wood when the door opened inward on a large corner suite.

  “Um, I’m sorry, I was told I was meeting General Whitcomb here.” He took in her navy sheath dress and coifed hair. “Are you his secretary?”

  Gabrielle didn’t react though the idea of being a general’s secretary made her want to laugh her ass off. Like she’d make coffee and remember to send his wife flowers on their anniversary.Fuck that.

  “Thank you for coming, Sgt. Sauter.” She stepped back. “Please, come in. General Whitcomb was unable to make it but he’s sent some gentlemen in his absence.”

  Inside, their guest’s eyes swept the room, pausing on each of the two men seated at the small round table in front of the window. Another chair sat empty between them.

  Both men were in plain clothes, though anyone with knowledge could see they were not civilians. Gabrielle watched Becca’s father take in the suite, sweeping for possible other parties, or escape routes. If he was like any of them, he was wondering about potential weapons. To his credit, the change of interviewers was taken in without a ripple. Minor elevation in heart rate and respiration but it was minimal. Must be where his daughter got it. Balls of steel, that girl. The image of her human team member’s now pale, drawn face haunted her. The human hadn’t been with them for a year and already Gabrielle knew she would feel her loss should it come to that.

  Focus on now, there’s no time for costly mistakes.

  “Please, Sergeant, take a seat.”

  “Just call me Ed. Please.” He lowered himself into the chair, the tiniest hesitation hinted the source of his limp stemmed from the hip.

  “All right.” Ryan rolled his chair back to face his interviewee. Classic strategy; open body language, be non-threatening, be their friend. “Ed.” He smiled.

  Kenneth did nothing. He sat with hands resting intertwined on the table, feet flat on the floor looking completely at peace. It was creepy as fuck.

  Gabrielle hovered by the wet bar on the near wall behind Ryan where she could avoid his eyes and keep close watch on Kenneth. If he ate her dad, Becca would never forgive them. If she lived.

  After they got to the bottom of who the hell had it in for them she was going to find a way to get the human well again. Even if she had to do it personally.

  Ed drummed scarred fingers on the table, the beginnings of arthritis twisted the first digit on each pointer finger.

  Kenneth scarcely feigned breath.

  Ryan shifted.

  Finally when the game threatened to bridge from tedious to inane, Gabrielle rolled her eyes and lifted a foot to step forward, thinking to offer the fools water. Power struggles were thirsty business. These sorts of tactics might be necessary but it could be so much easier to be a woman.Give me candles, a drink, and five minutes, I’ll have his social security number, mother’s maiden name, and greatest fear from childhood.Life was much more complicated with a penis.

  “We all know General Whitcomb isn’t behind this meeting,” Ed broke first.

  Ryan’s grin grew. “What makes you think that, Ed?” The accent was heavy on his name.

  “Because the general hasn’t called a meeting with just me since my last op and we’ve gone over that plenty, they even videotaped the interview. There’s nothing else they could possibly want from me.” Dark eyes swept over his affable interviewer, then the barely contained psychopath. A twist of his head and he took in Gabrielle in her long grey pencil skirt, charcoal heels, and matched dark grey silk top. She got a second glance. The first was as a subject, the second as a woman. Lips tightened.

  “I’m guessing this has to do with Senator Jordan being the target of a car bomb this morning.”

  Ryan leaned in. “And why would that bring us to you, Ed?”

  “I’m not seeing names so you’re either very bold or you have the proper clearance.” Ed met Ryan’s gaze evenly. “Which is it? Are you with the Bureau? Spooks? Army Intelligence?”

  No one answered.

  Leaning back, Ed crossed his arms. “I was in way too long to fall for the blank stares and intimidation tactics.” He paused, glanced down for a moment. “Turn the heat down a few degrees? Trying to make me uncomfortable?”

  Gabrielle swore she heard a deep chuckle from beyond the wall. Pushing off, she uncrossed her arms.

  “Listen, Ed, you were on a few ops with Bill Jordan back when he was a Ranger. We think he was killed because of something that happened on one of those ops.” Crossing behind Ryan she stood directly across from Ed Sauter. “You know, I was in Afghanistan recently. Troubled country.” She tipped her head. “What part were you in again? With the senator? Was it the Faryab province?”

  Ed’s California tanned face paled, his throat worked.

  “That name ring a bell to you, Ed?” Ryan chimed in.

  Kenneth moved, hand flashing out to grip Ed’s wrist where it tipped over the table top.

  “What is this? What are you doing?”

  The light in Kenneth’s eyes flashed and Gabs could see the crazy from across the room. So could Ed. He didn’t like it any more than she did.

  Fast, not preternatural fast, but damn fast for a human. Rising from his chair he grabbed the hand on his and twisted, shoving down at the same time. When Kenneth’s face lay pressed against low nap rose carpet, arm twisted behind him and almost perpendicular to his body, Gabrielle and Ryan started to laugh.

  “Fuck you both,” Kenneth snarled.

  “You want to quit screwing around and tell me why I’m here and who you people are?”

  Ryan sobered though his eyes still held a decidedly amused sparkle he would probably sport as long as Kenneth lay an inch from a dislocated shoulder. “Bill Jordan’s car was blown up to make a statement.”

  “Political assassinations are always about a statement.”

  “What do you think it says that he had heroin in his car?” All hints of a smile were gone.

  The fight went out of Ed Sauter.

  Arm free, Kenneth shot up and took one stalking step before Ryan’s very low growl hidden in a one word command stopped him. “No.”

  Thankfully, their least reliable member chose that moment to very intelligently determine the folly of carrying out his revenge so close to two werewolves within striking distance. He eased back to sulk a few feet away.

  Eyes back to the others, Ed looked sick. “Heroin? Are you sure?”

  Ryan nodded once.

  Ed fell into his chair now a few wheel rolls from the table. “Any chance there’s bourbon in the minibar?”

  Interestingly enough, there was. Gabrielle didn’t fetch coffee or water but a man who asked for his bourbon neat she could respect.

  ***

  Across town a black SUV pulled over, one of hundreds on the streets of Washington, a sight so common no one even saw them anymore. The male figure stood in from the corner, just enough to avoid the glow of the Victorian era gas lamp styled light on the corner. Dark coat aiding in the illusion he needed it to keep away the early summer evening chill. The back window rolled down, a shadow could be seen inside. Waiting.

  The male walked up, taking care to step around the light. “Sire. It’s done.” He spoke quietly. No matter, his intended audience could hear even if he hadn’t approached.

  “All of it?” The words came on a quiet growl.


  “Yes. They found the package, they removed it before they towed the wreckage. I saw it myself.” If he’d been in his other form he’d have been wagging his tail so pleased was he to report how well he’d done his job.

  His sire’s response was sharp, quelling some of that pride. “Are you sure? I’ve heard nothing in the reports from the media.”

  “I-I saw them. I watched them remove it. Anyone could smell it burn, Sire.” It came out a whine, his human tongue swiped at his lips, head tipping in an act of submission. As in the wild, appeasing the pack leader was critical to a member’s survival.

  The shadow waited, considering his options, or perhaps the fate of his underling. “The senator was well liked, had resources who might be protecting him.” He grunted. “Let us make certain this is reported. Leak it. Anonymously.”

  Head bowed in supplication as well as relief, sensing he’d been granted a reprieve. “It will be done immediately, Sire.”

  The window rolled back up, the black SUV rolled off.

  Tugging the lower hem of his coat, the figure was grateful for the garment as it could help hide the urine now staining his trousers. Thankfully he’d worn black. With a shake of his wet sock and shoe he moved off to carry out his orders. It would not do to displease his leader again.

  Chapter 21

  “Michael?”

  Coming back to himself, Michael slowly unlocked and turned to her. “I’m sorry?”

  Her file lay forgotten in her lap, anxiety plain on her face. “I asked how it’s going over there. Are things... Is my dad... Is everything okay?”

  Genuinely relieved he could tell her their concerns for Ed’s safety appeared to be unfounded, he let his features soften in a human display of compassion. “Yes, my love, Ed has been able to give us what we need without a need to learn our secret.”

  The tension oozed out of her with a great sigh, though not entirely. Not until he was far away from Kenneth and his pointy weapons. Still, that Ed chose to share without their having to damage him was a great burden lifted.

  “So, what’s he saying?”

  Gambling that her father was out of danger, Michael raised his chin. Her color wasn’t great, but it might have been a hint improved. He prayed his desperation had yielded results. “How would you like to hear for yourself?”

  Game as ever, she smiled. “Okay.”

  Laying aside her file so she didn’t drop it, Becca put both feet on the floor and cleared her throat.

  And jumped.

  ***

  “He was already there when your unit arrived?” Gabrielle’s question was clear through Michael’s ears. Staring at tan patterned wallpaper there was nothing to distract her from their voices.

  “Right, my unit was coming in to replace another cycling back CONUS. Bill, Senator Jordan’s, unit got there before so we operated out of the same base for three months.”

  “How did Senator Jordan get mixed up with heroin? Was it back when you were in Vietnam?”

  Rustling, maybe fidgeting sounds came through the wall.

  “Has he been crooked his entire career?” This from Ryan.

  “No.” Ed’s reply was firm. “No, but that was where he got his hooks in him.”

  “Who’s he?”

  “Come on, Ed.” Ryan again. “You can’t tell me someone was holding something over him but you don’t know who it was.”

  “I don’t, he never said.” He stopped, it sounded like he was holding his breath. They way he would if he was going to say something and stopped.Oh God, Dad, what do you know?

  No one spoke for a long moment. Becca pictured those three faces, stony. Judging. Even her hard assed father would crumble under that sort of pressure.

  “I don’t know who it was, but...” Of course he broke. “But I knowwhat it was.”

  Nothing again. Not a group prone to impatience, they waited for the human to come to terms with breaking the senator’s confidence. Even posthumously a reputation was everything in this town.

  Becca fiddled with a string on her cuff. She did not have the same patience as her team.

  Finally, she heard her father’s sigh. “It was a month in on my tour. Both teams were back from operations and hanging at base. Bill and I were friendly. Nothing tight, we didn’t share more than a beer and conversation when we were in the same space. One of the guys, I don’t even remember who, but he’d been there longer, knew some of the local places where we could get things.” A very uncomfortable sounding throat clearing.

  Becca imagined the intense gazes pointed his way and wanted to squirm for him.

  “What kind of things, Ed?” Gabrielle prompted him.

  “Uh, you know, entertainment. The kind a young man needs to let off a little steam.”

  “So what sort of entertainment did you pursue that day, Ed?” Gabrielle pressed again.

  “Girls. We went there for the girls.”

  “Gross, Dad.”

  Michael sniffed.

  “Bill had a buddy in the auto pool so he got us a jeep. We figured a few beers, a little fun for a couple of hours and we’d be back, nobody would miss us.”

  Funny, listening to her father, Becca didn’t need to see his face. The short pauses, the deep intakes of breath, and years of watching the man who was ever her unreachable idol; she could see his face as though she sat across from him.

  “There was a central bar. Just a thatch roof with no walls, but they had a few places to sit, decent local food, and beer. Piss warm, but better than an MRE and warm fucking water.” Sarcastic snort. “We had a beer while we waited, then the girls came out. Everybody picked one and we went our separate ways. When we were done we met back at the bar. Bill was already there when I got back. Said his girl took him to her place and there was a little kid there. He couldn’t do it in front of her kid.”

  “We figured we’d have another beer while we waited for the others to finish up.” The sound of glass on wood and a pause. He was drinking something. Becca felt her heart rate pick up. Her dad knew something. Would it be enough to get him hurt too? Whoever killed the senator might be cleaning up a forty year old mess. Was he safe? Was he the man she thought he was? Which was worse?

  “There was some sort of commotion. No gunfire, but lots of yelling. You didn’t know over there. Like our boys are facing now, it was a different sort of war. Not always a uniform or clear cut sides. Bill and I were thinking maybe we made a mistake, maybe the village wasn’t so friendly. We had our guns, you always carried. But so did they.”

  The glass slid again.

  The sound of liquid pouring. A refill.

  “Thanks.” A pause and audible swallow.

  “Who were they? Ours? Viet Cong?” Kenneth. He would know, he’d been turned while serving in that war. He was probably seeing it with Ed; the jungle, the people, the women forced to sell what they had out of opportunity in an age old desperate attempt to feed their children while war stole their men, fathers, brothers, and safety.

  “Neither,” Ed sounded tired. “A warlord. The locals feared him, you could tell by the way they scattered as he made his way toward us. Americans on his turf. He dressed like a local, spoke the language, but when he got close we saw his face. He was as foreign as we were.”

  “Was he American?” Ryan wanted to know. “I heard about some of ours capitalizing on the chaos, going AWOL and living like locals.”

  “No, this guy was dark, like a Latino, only not. Seeing what I’ve seen since, I’d peg him as North African. Like Moroccan or Libyan. They called him the Unitarian.”

  “Describe him to me.” Gabrielle’s voice sounded odd, choked.

  “Dark hair, dark eyes, about five foot nine, one eighty. Not huge but sturdy and definitely not built like a local living on rice and bush meat.”

  Gabrielle made an odd sound and there was a bang, scraping of chairs, glass being knocked off, a struggle.

  “Gabs!” Ryan was moving.

  “What was his name?”

  “I told you, the
y called him the Unitarian.” Ed sounded like he was choking.

  Becca was up, hands on the wall like she could stop it. Anything could happen in that room long before she could get in there. “Please, Ryan. Please help my dad,” she whispered. A cool hand touched her shoulder.

  “He’s got this.”

  “Did you get a name? Where he came from?”

  Ed wheezed.

  “Gabs.” Ryan again, softer now. Soothing her. A partner in every sense. Whether Gabrielle wanted it or not, Ryan wouldn’t let her do something she would live to regret.

  Becca mentally scanned through the case files, trying not to picture her dad being choked to death by a freaked out werewolf. Was there one who got away? One they hunted but couldn’t find fitting that description? What could detonate Gabrielle’s ultra cool veneer?