by Linzi Basset
Rhone straightened in the chair. He looked around the table at each of the seven men whom he all loved like family. It was time the team pulled together. Whatever Jack had been up to or information he’d kept secret, needed to come out in the open. Together, they were formidable and could achieve much more than one man trying to save the world and keep his friends and family safe. Which he had no doubt was what had driven Jack.
“I’m glad both of you are back and recuperating so well,” Bruce’s voice yanked him back to the present.
“Not as happy as we are … or for that matter, Lexi. She says I’m a worse patient than her father.”
“Stop complaining, Lance. At least you don’t have your mother clucking around you morning, noon, and night,” Alex said with a smile of indulged frustration.
“Soon, you’ll be able to put the entire nightmare behind you,” Ethan said as he filled his coffee mug once again. “Nate said the reconstructive surgery on your face is scheduled for two months from now.”
“Yes.” Alex’s face turned grim. “To be honest, I’d much rather walk around disfigured and have Jack by my side.”
“Yeah, we all feel the loss, mate.” Keon’s gruff voice echoed with the sadness they all felt.
Eight pairs of eyes swung to the empty chair. The silence was a moment of gathering their emotions.
“I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t believe Jack is dead. I still feel him.” Max thumped a fist against his heart. “In here.”
“We all feel that way, Max, but we might have to accept that he died in that explosion,” Ethan said with a catch in his voice. He turned to Alex. “You said yourself, Alex, he was at the point of impact. The entire front part of the house was blown away. If the two of you hadn’t fallen back in time and then flung under the staircase from the backlash, you’d have been dead.”
Silence descended as everyone gathered their thoughts.
“I know what you're saying is true, Ethan, and because of that the chances of finding any proof that he had died is slim, but I can't ... there's no way I can tell Joanne and her parents … god, and Jordan! How can we do that to her, so soon after …” Max stuttered to silence. He was the one coping with Jack's disappearance, like he preferred to call it, the hardest. They had been like twins growing up, and it felt like a part of him was missing. He couldn't accept that the big, strong, and indestructible man he loved like a brother hadn't found a way to survive.
“The MPD and the forensic team have signed off on the scene,” Rhone said quietly.
“Which means in their opinion, he’s dead,” Richard said dully.
“I'm afraid so. They've gone over everything with a fine-tooth comb seven times. They can't find anything.” Rhone ran his hand over his face. “We might not have a choice but to accept ... to accept that he's no longer with us.”
The atmosphere turned thick with the silence that descended again, everyone struggling to cope with the grief they'd been suppressing since the explosion.
“If it’s acceptable to everyone, I’ll tell Jordan,” Bruce, who was also the resident psychiatrist, volunteered. He shook his head. His expression was grim. “It’s going to be hard on her. First Gideon ... and now Jack. She’s just come to accept her brother's death. Losing Jack so soon after that ... I’m worried it might break her.”
“You're the best one of all of us to deal with it, Bruce, but Lexi and I will be there when you do. Just warn us when you’re coming. Lexi has developed quite a strong bond with her over the past couple of weeks.”
“Keon and I will join you,” Rhone rasped.
“All of us will be there. We owe it to Jack,” Max interjected with the heartache vibrating in his deep voice.
“Rhone, please confirm with MPD first before we talk to her, preferably in the early evening. That way Ethan can give her a sedative to make her sleep.”
Everyone agreed with quiet nods.
“On to business,” Rhone’s voice sounded hollow. He gazed at each man intently. “Now, more than ever, we need to find those bastards. They've gone too far this time.”
“Agreed, but before we delve into this further, I have something I need to share with you.” Alex sat forward and looked around the wide boardroom table. “I've decided to step down as Governor. I've already discussed it with the Senate and House of Representatives, as well as the President.”
“Jesus, Alex! Why? You've been the best thing that's happened to our political system, not to mention that due to the extent of your constitutional powers, you’ve been ranked among the most powerful governors in the US. You’re the commander-in-chief of all Maryland's naval and militia forces and it’s because of you that crime has dwindled over the past five years,” Keon burst out.
“But it’s not enough. My hands are still tied by the laws of the constitution. Why? Do you really need to ask, mate? Because of this, of what has happened.” His fist landed with a thud on the table. “I can't stand by and keep watching how those bastards destroy what this country stands for, not to mention the lives of innocent bystanders they have no concern for. No, Rhone, drop it.” He stopped Rhone as he opened his mouth to interrupt. “Nothing any of you say is going to change my mind. I'm joining you at Precision Secure to fulfill my position as a shareholder to the max. I'm done walking on eggshells around propaganda and corrupt government officials. I'm going to make it my life's mission to end the Sixth Order and to eliminate everyone who stood by them during their reign of terror. Whether it be a CIA, FBI, or DOJ official, or god forbid, senators and governors. I'm done. If Jack is no longer with us, I ... we owe it to him to end them. Once and for all.”
“We're with you, Alex, and I for one understand why you've made the decision.” Bruce said evenly. It brought back memories of his own past and the choices he’d been forced to make. He pushed it firmly to the back of his mind. He'd been expecting Alex to pull out of politics for a while already. The signs had been there. His frustration with the judicial system had been evident many times over the past couple of months.
“We all support your decision, Alex.” Rhone stood up to pace the boardroom. As usual, he never remained seated for too long. “I for one, am delighted that you’ll be a permanent fixture at Precision Secure. Your SEAL skills surpass many of ours.”
“Seconded,” Keon rumbled.
“That’s a pity. I was looking forward to being able to say the US President is my mate,” Max said tongue-in-cheek.
Alex snorted. “Exactly why I’m pulling out now. There’s already been talk that the House of Representatives wants to nominate me to run in the next presidential election.” He shook his head at the expressions on the faces of his friends. “No, it’s not something I covet or want. It’s time to start looking at my future and what I want out of life. Bowing under the pressure of politics for years to come doesn’t feature in that picture.”
“Hopefully you’re aiming to settle down with a wife as well. You do know you’re the golden oldie among us, right?” Max taunted playfully. His usual sense of humor couldn’t be contained for too long.
“That’s the plan, my friend. What better way to find a woman who can deal with my disfigurement to know it’s the man inside she falls in love with, rather than my looks.” Alex was unperturbed by the sharp looks he received.
“I hate to break it to you, Mr. Vanity, but all that gray hair ain’t doing you any favors and now that it’s growing back, there are twice as many,” Max teased. “Besides, your looks were never anything to write novels over.”
“Fuck off, Maximilian. I’ll have you know, when it comes to being popular among the subs, I beat the lot of you, hands down.”
Deep chuckles filtered throughout the room when Savannah, Rhone’s PA, opened the door.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Rhone.” She turned to Lance. “Jim is on the line. He says it’s very urgent.”
“Put him through here. Thanks, Savannah.”
Jim Sutton was the senior operations leader in charge of the interr
ogation of Will Glover. He wouldn’t bother Lance, the Operations’ Director, without due course.
“Jim? What’s up?” Lance said into the receiver as soon as the call came through. He listened intently and slowly got to his feet. “When did this happen?” He looked at Rhone who immediately realized something bad had happened. “Hold down the fort. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Rhone’s military issued, Sikorsky S-97 Raider chopper, which was kept in a secure steel encased bunker on the roof of the building, would cut down flying time by more than a third. He ended the call and said brusquely, “Three of the guards at the interrogation location where Glover is kept have been killed.” He sighed heavily. “Along with Will Glover.”
“Fuck! And Jim was this close to breaking him! The intel he gave us yesterday was authentic. We managed to decrypt the file with their political contacts.” Richard Almer, the newest shareholder and IT Guru himself, growled in frustration.
Alex’s sharp gaze homed in on Richard. “And?”
Richard glanced at Max. “You’re not gonna like what we found, Alex.”
“We can dissect that information later. For now, we need to get to the farm,” Rhone said as he strode toward the door. “Kit up, mates. We don’t know what’s waiting for us. Chopper lifts in five.”
The stench of death filled the air as Rhone and the team pushed through the door leading into the underground bunker. Jim stood waiting in the hallway. He gestured toward the guard office where the first man had been killed. His expression was grim.
“He was first. I don’t think he knew what hit him. The outside camera was destroyed with a shuriken, a ninja star.” Jim’s eyes darkened. “I suspect Casper had been watching the tube and missed the assassin coming down the stairs. I checked the video footage.”
“Any way to recognize the fucker?” Keon snapped as he pushed into the guard's office. The dead man was hunched over on the desk, in a pool of blood that was almost dried and gave the room a sickly-sweet butcher shop odor.
“No. He wore a full-face ski mask, all dressed in black and he wore gloves. We already dusted for fingerprints but he was too careful.” Jim gestured around the room. “He knew exactly where the cameras were as well and made sure his face was always turned away. We can’t even zoom in to his eyes.”
“Who else?” Alex asked grimly. He hated that they had lost team members. All of them were good men with families and to die in such a horrific way … it infuriated him that anyone had so little regard for humanity to butcher a man in such a vile manner.
“John Clooney and Dean Watts.” Jim led the way to the bedroom. “They were asleep. By the time they felt the stabs in their stomachs and chest, he’d slit their throats.”
“Fuck,” Alex whispered as he stared at the mutilated bodies on the beds. The walls were splattered with blood. “And Glover?”
“In the interrogation room. He had started talking yesterday. We would’ve had everything we needed by the end of the week, I know it.” He walked into the dimly lit square room—empty with the exception of the steel chair and the dead body of Will Glover.
“Jesus, he did a real job on him, didn’t he?” Max said as he walked around the corpse. He pointed to his face. “Is it my imagination or … fuck, it’s not. His tongue has been cut out.”
“Yes, and he didn’t die as quickly as the others. He bled out much slower and probably choked on the blood in his lungs,” Ethan observed quietly.
“Whoever did this has no conscience,” Bruce rasped. “He was meticulous and precise. The scene in the bedroom … he enjoys killing. To him, it’s an art form.” He glanced at Rhone. “The cut-out tongue is a warning to others of what would happen if they rat out the Syndicate.”
“How the hell did they find Glover? No one has intel on this location but us and the President’s men,” Keon wondered out loud.
“That has me worried too.” Rhone looked around. “Max, get the footage back to the office. See if you and Richard can dig anything up that could help us find this bastard.” His eyes darkened. “And we have to start looking to the inside.”
Alex stared at him. “Precision Secure inside or the President’s men? Do you think we have a mole?”
“What else? One way or the other this location was leaked. We have to find out how and by who.”
They took the stairs and met up with the three men who had been asleep in the farmhouse during the attack. A chopper circling overhead drew their attention.
“Who is that? Did you inform MPD about this as well, Jim?” Rhone asked as he squinted upward.
“No. I only contacted Lance but I did inform Savannah and asked her to get Richard to hack into the satellite feed and see if he can backtrack on the GeoEye system to find a trace of the assassin.” He shrugged. “I thought it was worth a shot.”
“Good work, mate,” Max said. His eyes narrowed on the three forms that alighted from the chopper. “What the bejesus are they doing here?”
Bruce chuckled and looked between Rhone and Lance who both cursed when they too recognized the three women approaching.
Rhone didn’t offer any of them the opportunity to talk. “Turn your asses around and get back in that chopper. This is no place for any of you.” He gestured with a slash of his hand at the two women to his left. “Especially not you two!” He didn’t bother to hide his anger. “Just what the hell are you doing here?” His gaze seared the petite blonde woman who didn’t seem at all perturbed or intimidated by his rage.
“Calm down, Rhone,” Samantha Frazer, Rhone’s sub, who was expecting his baby, cooed in a sugary voice. “The three of us have the skills to help you work this scene. Lexi, as the chief medical examiner is a no brainer and Joanne’s sharp sense of evidence retrieval to secure the crime scene can’t be scoffed at, and I—”
“Yes?” Rhone folded his arms over his broad chest and pinned her in place with a piercing look. “What exactly are you doing here?”
“Come on, Rhone. I’m a trained assassin. I worked alongside the best there is in the business. Chances are, I’d be able to tell you whose signature is on these killings and who they hire out to.”
“She has a point,” Keon agreed with a grin. He winked at her with a conspiratorial grin. “Yep, our very own resident assassin.”
“A pregnant one! Who shouldn't be traipsing around a crime scene,” Rhone snapped.
“I'm pregnant, honey, not an invalid, nor do I need to be wrapped in cotton.” Samantha took a step closer and laid a hand on his chest. “We’re here to help, Rhone. Please, we want to end this as much as you do. And …” Her voice clogged up. She swallowed hard. “We owe it to Jack. All of us want vengeance,” she ended in a cold voice.
Rhone couldn’t get it over his heart to cut her down. He knew how much Samantha had come to care for all his friends in the short time she’d been in his life. His large hand covered the slight roundness of her belly.
“Your first priority is to care for our child, love. We know what we’re doing and—”
“As much as I hate having the women here, I have to agree with Sam. Lexi and Joanne could offer invaluable assistance in working the crime scene and Sam … well, we know how sharp she is. If anyone can give us any indication of who the assassin might have been, it’s her.” Lance ignored the sharp glare Rhone and Max bestowed on him.
“That may be, but you, Joanne Shaw, can turn your cute little butt right around and march back to that chopper. You’re not going anywhere near those dead bodies.”
Joanne’s shoulders straightened and she stared at Max with a haughty look. “I came here to help. The only place I’m going to march to is inside that bunker.”
“No, you’re not. Look at you, woman! Your belly is out there and you want to waddle—”
“Waddle! Are you saying I’m fat, Maximilian?”
Max rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I—”
Joanne pushed her face against his. “I’ll have you know, my dear husband, I’ve only gained six pou
nds so far, which according to the OB, is the normal weight gain at this stage. So,” she stabbed a stiff finger into his chest. “Don’t you dare tell me I’m fat.”
Max sighed heavily. “Babe, you’re about to pop and—”
“Pop! Good lord, little Muppet, close your ears. Your daddy clearly has no idea how to talk about your birth.” She pretended to cover her belly in horror.
“Joanne, this isn’t funny. You’re only a couple of months away from—”
“Yes, a couple of months, which means I’m more than capable of using my skills to assist you now.”
Alex shook his head as they watched the two bickering people walk away. Max did his best to steer the determined and heavily pregnant woman away from the door leading into the bunker. “Do those two ever agree on anything?”
“Yes,” Samantha said with a gentle smile. “Love. They agree on loving each other.” She turned and followed them. “Stop glaring at me, Rhone and show us the bodies. The sooner we start, the quicker you can get the three of us back in that chopper.”
With an elaborate sigh, Rhone wrapped his arm around her still tiny waist and guided her down the stairs.
Samantha examined each scene carefully, taking note of the blood spatter around each body. She stood in the bedroom, between the two beds and studied the corpses. She gestured between them.
“From the position of the stab wounds, he jabbed four successive hits, followed by an elaborate arch to cut their throats.” She demonstrated the movement as she envisioned it in her mind. “Ending with his hands above his head, like this.”
She pointed at the blood spatter that formed a perfect half-moon against each opposite wall. “The same force was applied to each cut.” She nodded thoughtfully. “He did it simultaneously.” She turned and followed Rhone to the interrogation room. Glover’s head was leaning backward, his mouth open, the head almost cleft from his body. She inspected the severed vessels, sticking like corrugated pipes through the clotted blood that had spread over his chest to form a bib on his shirt.
“He watched him die.” She looked around and pointed to a bloodied footprint to the side of the chair. “There. He must’ve stepped in the blood in the bedroom.” She slowly walked around the body, her forehead marred in thought. “I always worked alone, except the one time, when there were multiple targets. I was assigned an assassin from the CIA task force. A knife expert … similar MO and my gut tells me it’s him. He was still working for a covert team of the CIA when I left, so I’m not sure if he’s still with them.”