“What channel?” I ask.
“Any channel.”
I grab the remote control off the nightstand and turn on the TV, quickly flipping to one of the news stations. The talking heads are droning on, speculating about the situation, so I mute the TV and watch in silence for a couple of moments. There’s a wide grin on my face as I watch a handcuffed Eleanor Vogel being led out of her house by a pair of burly FBI agents.
“This might be the first time I’ve enjoyed watching the news,” I say.
“Agreed,” she replies. “But you can imagine my surprise when I heard the list of charges Ms. Vogel is facing. As well as the recordings the Bureau discovered on her computer.”
I laugh softly. “Happy Birthday.”
“Echo, this is what I was talking about,” she says, her voice icy. “You cannot continue to act on your own like that.”
“I had this information fall into my lap, and it was too good not to use it, Delta. The original op was a flesh wound. What I dropped on them is a killshot,” I defend myself. “Hardwick may never recover from this scandal. Vogel is off the board permanently. So is Kent.”
“It was a masterstroke, I will give you that,” she admits. “But those were not the orders you were given.”
“My objective was achieved,” I argue. “It was just—enhanced.”
“Echo—”
“No, listen to me. I don’t know what your background is, but when you’re out in the field, the facts sometimes change,” I growl. “A good operator will change with those facts. Sometimes it means pulling the plug on an op. Sometimes it means you take a bigger swing. We knocked this one out of the park.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It is the point, Delta. If you want me to do this job, then you are going to need to trust me,” I fire back. “You cannot tie my hands. You must give me the room to maneuver, trusting that I will do what is in the best interest of the op.”
I hear her sigh. “I do trust you, Echo. But I have people I answer to as well.”
I get out of bed and pace the room with the phone pressed to my ear. I realize the remote is still in my other hand, and out of frustration, I hurl it across the room. It shatters against the wall, spraying shards of cheap plastic all over the place.
“Look, you say you recruited me because I’m a good operative. But if you want me to be effective and be that operative you recruited, you need to cut the damn leash, Delta,” I spit. “I cannot do my job with you people breathing down my neck and second-guessing me like this. You have to trust me.”
I hear her sigh in the silence that follows my rant. I stop pacing and lean against the wall, clenching and unclenching my jaw. It seems ridiculous to me that instead of celebrating a big win, we’re arguing about whether or not I obeyed orders.
“Delta, I know I didn’t follow my orders to the letter,” I say. “But you can’t deny that the win we scored was huge. It worked out better than we could have ever anticipated.”
“I’m not denying that. It was a success,” she said. “It worked out this time. But where did you get your information?”
“From an asset I developed,” I tell her. “And before you ask, yes, I trust my source. This isn’t the first bit of information I’ve pulled from them that’s been accurate.”
Thankfully, she knows better than to ask me to identify my source. But it leaves us in a silent standoff for a moment. In that silence, though, I get the idea that she’s listening to what I have to say and not rejecting it outright. She knows that for an operative/handler relationship to work, there has to be a level of comfort with each other as well as a level of trust.
“Results are the only thing that matter in this game,” I press. “And we got some huge results today.”
She lets out another long breath, but it sounds less frustrated than her last few dramatic sighs. I don’t know if it’s simple resignation and an acceptance that she can’t control me. Or if she’s actually coming around to seeing the sense in what I’m saying. It doesn’t really matter to me as long as I get the freedom I’m demanding.
“Just—in the future, loop me in before you change the parameters of an op,” she says. “Don’t leave me standing here alone in the dark when my superiors come calling with questions.”
“That’s fair,” I nod. “And I will keep you in the loop. You have my word.”
“Very well,” she says. “And believe it or not, I think what you pulled off is amazing. As far as I am personally concerned, you scored a big victory for us. You delivered a huge blow to the opposition. I’m proud of you, Echo.”
I pause and weigh my next words carefully. I know I shouldn’t mention Justice. It could land me in hot water, but at the same time, I want Delta to know what a big asset she has in the girl.
“I can’t take all of the credit,” I say. “Justice was an invaluable part of this op.”
“Oh, I know,” she says, and actually laughs. “Did you think that was a secret?”
“Well—yeah. Actually, I did.”
She laughs again. “There is little going on with my people that I don’t know,” she says. “It’s my job to know what’s happening. But once again, this is one of those things you should have told me before you did it.”
“Sometimes it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission,” I chuckle.
“That will never be the case with me,” she replies. “I assure you.”
“Fair enough,” I tell her. “So, you’re okay with it?”
“Justice has tremendous talent,” she replies. “She just needs to hone that talent. And she could not find a better mentor. Well—unless she found one who can follow the rules.”
I chuckle, feeling some of my tension dissipate. “I agree,” I say. “Her talent is through the roof, and she doesn’t have a ceiling I can see.”
“So why don’t you stick around Chicago for a few days,” she tells me. “Enjoy a little time off while we figure out what our next move will be and give Justice a bit of your time.”
Given what I did to Deion and Julio, I think it would be better for me to get out of town, actually, but I can’t tell her that. She’s already warned me about working off my own script. But I should be okay for a day or two anyway.
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” I say.
“Good. I’m glad to hear that,” she says. “Then enjoy a couple of very well-earned days off. And good work, Echo. I think you did an amazing job, and we owe you a debt.”
“Just doing my job.”
“Always so modest,” she chuckles. “I’ll be in touch soon.”
She disconnects the call, leaving me staring at the phone for a moment. I look again at the TV and see a replay of the video of Vogel being perp-walked out of her house in front of the horde of reporters.
A sense of pride and satisfaction washes through me as I know that whatever plans the Hellfire Club may have been up to with this scheme have been thwarted—permanently.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I told you, you shouldn’t be calling this number. So stop calling.”
The line goes dead in my hand, and I cut a look over at Justice, whose face is glued to her computer screen. She looks up at me, and she smiles.
“I didn’t get an exact location, but I do have a name to go along with the phone number,” she says.
I lay the phone down on the table and look at it. It had been in the hidden wall safe downstairs. There was one number in the phone, and when I called it, I got the impression the person on the other end of the line knew me, but for whatever reason, was refusing to talk to me.
After that, I gave the phone to Justice to see if she could dig up any information on it. She suggested I call back and try to keep them on the line so she could trace it. But I couldn’t get the guy to stay on with me long enough.
“And what’s the name?” I ask.
“Leonard Graves,” she says.
I rack my brain, trying to come up with the name, trying to find some sort of
familiarity or connection. I clench my fists at my sides, thinking as hard as I possibly can but come up empty.
“Nothing,” I sigh. “I have no idea who that is.”
“Do you recall ever being in Minnesota?” she asks hopefully. “Or do you feel any kind of connection to Minnesota?”
After a moment though, I shake my head. “None. No connection whatsoever.”
She gives me a small smile, but I can see there’s an expression of disappointment on her face as she looks at me.
“Well, I guess I know where you’re off to,” she says.
I nod. “Looks that way.”
“Delta is going to be pissed.”
“She’s always pissed,” I reply. “I’m used to it.”
She laughs softly. I’ve spent the last few days here, feeling increasingly anxious with every passing day for reasons I can’t understand. I almost feel caged. Penned in. It’s a strange feeling, this need to not be tied down to one place for too long.
But as strange as it is to say, I’ve enjoyed my time with Justice. Most of our time has been spent working on her tradecraft and refining her skills, and, but it’s been fun. We’ve gotten to know each other better, and she is genuinely nice to be around.
We’ve both always known this partnership has a shelf life though. There would be a time, sooner or later, that I’d be called into the field and would have to leave. But with no mission on the docket for me at the moment, my restlessness has taken over, and I need to get out of here.
“And here I’ve gotten used to you being around,” she says almost wistfully.
“Listen, why don’t you stay here in the house?” I offer. “Honestly, I’d feel better with somebody staying here and keeping an eye on it.”
“Yeah?”
I nod. “Absolutely. And on the plus side, at least I’ll always know where to find you when I come back to town.”
She smiles. “Thanks, Echo. I appreciate that a lot,” she says. “This place is a hell of a lot nicer than my shitty apartment.”
“You’re welcome,” I say.
Justice looks at me, her gaze intense, and her expression serious. “Thank you, Echo. For everything,” she says. “I really appreciate all you’ve done for me.”
“You’ve got a lot of talent,” I tell her. “Hone your skills. Practice your tradecraft, and you’re going to be in the field before you know it.”
Her smile is wide and bright. “You did a lot of good here in Chicago, Echo,” she says. “Aside from the op, you gave Mrs. Williams peace. You gave her closure.”
“No, we did a lot of good here. Two traitors, two Hellfire Club members, and two murderers off the board. We had a good week,” I say. “And this is not the last time we’re going to see and talk to each other, so stop acting and sounding like it is. Delta tasked me with training you, and I intend to do just that.”
“You better,” she grins. “I still intend on being a better field agent than you.”
“And I have no doubt you’re going to do that.”
Silence descends over the room. A moment passes between us that’s charged and filled with an electricity I can’t understand, let alone define. But rather than try to figure it out, I reach down and pick up my bag and give her one last smile.
“Minnesota’s a long drive,” I say. “I better get on the road.”
“Yeah. Well, check-in with me from the road.”
I snap her a salute. “Yes ma’am.”
She hands me a piece of paper, and I glance at it—it’s the address for one Leonard Graves.
“Thanks for this.”
“Anytime, Echo.”
I leave the house and head out to my car, feeling something like disappointment about leaving her. But this is what I need to do. If I’m going to find the answers I want, I need to keep moving and following every last breadcrumb on the trail. And right now, the breadcrumbs are leading north and west.
I throw my things into the trunk and climb behind the wheel. I fire up the engine and crank up the music as I hit the open highway. I settle back in my seat, putting Chicago behind me, and rocket toward Minnesota—and whatever lies before me there.
Author’s Note
Hi there,
Thank you for reading Web Of Lies, book 2 in my debut series, I hope you enjoyed it.
I want to continue bringing these fast-paced action novels for you to devour.
However, I need your help!
It would mean the world to me if you can please leave me a review so that others can find and enjoy this book as well.
Additionally, if you haven’t read the prequel to this book, you can click here to grab your free copy of Burn Notice.
If you want to connect with me or found any errors in the book you want me to fix, feel free to email me at [email protected]
Warm regards,
Michael Cross
Are you ready for Echo’s next adventure?
Read Book 3 – Without A Trace
Also by Michael Cross
Book One - Amnesia
Book Two - Web Of Lies
Book Three - Without A Trace
Book Four - Mission Of Mayhem
Book Five - The Tower
Book Six - Last Inferno
Web of Lies Page 11