by Linzi Basset
“Me?” Seely reared back in surprise. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I would’ve thought you got to know me well enough over the past couple of weeks not to fuck with me.” He sounded bored, colloquial, like they were having a friendly man-to-man chit-chat.
“Look, you’ve got it all wrong. Since Vito’s death, there was nothing left for me. None of the five big ones would appoint me because I was seen as a threat. Why … UGH!”
Seely’s head snapped back as the hard, right handed fist reached over the distance so fast, he had no time to avoid it. It caught him on the nose. The sickening blunt crack registered a second before pain erupted from the point of impact. He felt the warm blood seeping through his fingers as he cradled his face, his nose crookedly twisted to the right.
“I know you’ve been in communication with a Don, Seely. I want to know which one.”
“I don’t know … Jesus! Aaggh!” he cried as the scalding coffee from his cup splashed into his eyes and coursed down his face. He jumped up, only to be yanked forcefully back by a hard hand around his elbow.
“Sit!” The eyes that bore into him made him recall the movies he’d watched of the devil. At the moment, it scared the shit out of him, just like it had then.
“Let me take a guess. The Occhipintis are ready to rise again and the new Don, who is still a secret to everyone, including the Cosa Nostra, planted you in the Syndicate to fish for information.”
Seely glared at him with bleary eyes. His shoulders sagged in defeat. “Yes.”
“And they are aware of the Sixth Order’s deal with the Bratva.”
“Yes, but it’s not what you think.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“The Don is a clever man. Vladimir Alenichev, the previous leader of the Bratva, isn’t dead as everyone assumes.”
The gaze watching him turned sharp, more intense. “I’m aware of that.”
“I wasn’t. I was only told this a week before that bastard Blackmore caught and tortured me.” Seely pressed a dishcloth against his bleeding nose.
“I don’t have time for self-pity. Don’t test my patience. Keep talking.”
“Zee and Powell thought they were so clever. That they were gaining the upper hand over criminal activities in the U.S. In the meantime, it was the Occhipinti Don who had been colluding with Vladimir for the past year. The Sixth Order has gained too many followers and encroached on the power of the mafia. They had to be stopped. They leaked information that the Bratva was looking for a partner to obtain the MOKV designs. The Sixth Order believed they had been the brains in this scheme all the time. Instead, they’d been the play piece in a much bigger game. A game for ultimate power. World domination.”
“They set them up? Why?”
“They’d steadily been stealing market share from the Cosa Nostra, especially in the drug trade. Cheaper drugs, easier accessibility, no matter that the quality was up to shit. It managed to increase their footprint in a very short period. It had to stop. No one undermined the mafia. It just isn’t done.” He shrugged. “You should know that to date no one has been able to get close to the Sixth Order. The way they operate … so deep under the radar that no one could penetrate their operation. I was the insider and the MOKV … the tool that’s gonna sink them. Once and for all.”
“How?”
“Once they managed to decrypt the files and hand them over to the Bratva delegation, it wouldn’t be the Bratva taking possession. The Don in some way had an FBI task team set up, waiting on the sides. They’ll be caught red-handed.”
“Not if they send a lackey to deliver it.”
“No. Zee and Powell are the only ones in contact with the Russians. In this, they don’t trust anyone. I don’t even know where they stashed the stolen server.” He shook his head. “We’re talking billions of dollars in exchange for those designs. They’d want to be there when the exchange is made.”
“What was Vladimir trying to achieve by siding with the Occhipintis? There have never been pleasantries between the mafia of the two countries.”
“He’s trying to regain power. Personally, I believe he has his own agenda and would try to get to the design prior to delivery. He couldn’t care less about the power struggle in the U.S. It’s the only explanation I have.”
“Funny that your Don isn’t clever enough to figure it out himself.”
Seely’s lips pressed into an irritating line. It was clear that he was very loyal to his Don.
“Glover was the Sixth Order’s IT specialist and hacker. Why hasn’t he decrypted it?”
“It was too technical for him. There was some kind of glitch encoded that he couldn’t get past.”
“I’m assuming you’ve been tasked to find hackers who could?”
Seely was past caring about divulging intel on the Sixth Order. “Yes, and the one name that kept coming up was a woman who Dexter had considered to appoint at the time Glover got the job. Jessica Simmons. That was one of the main reasons I went to clear the Massage Parlor that day. To ensure the backup operative’s identities remained safe.”
His interrogator frowned. “In other words, even though the entire operation hub of operatives was captured, the Sixth Order had others on standby to fall in immediately?”
A cynical smile flashed across Seely’s face. “Yeah. You have to give Dexter and Zee credit. They had all avenues covered.”
“Hm. Interesting. Where can I find Simmons?”
“She’s known in the industry as Slasher.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “Well deserved. From what I’ve managed to find about her, there’s no code she couldn’t break. With the Massage Parlor compromised, she would be their first choice to replace Glover, and I suspect they’ll use her to get into that server as well.”
“If they had backup staff, they’d have another location at the ready to continue operating. Where?”
Seely sighed heavily. He might as well just spill it all. “The old historical bomb shelter in the Michaux State Forest in Pennsylvania. They’ve christened it the Sauna House.”
The towel had turned crimson but it didn’t faze the man studying Seely unblinkingly as he stored all the information in the appropriate compartments in his well-established mind.
“Now, Seely, one last question.”
He took a leisurely sip of his coffee. His eyes were narrowed and turned rigid, cold, hard. It felt like a dagger piercing Seely’s mind. “Who is the new Don of the Occhipintis?”
Seely lowered the towel with defeat in his eyes. He knew the moment had come. “He’ll kill me.”
The man hacked out a sinister laugh. A chill raced up Seely’s spine. “What makes you think you’re walking out of here alive?”
Seely was caught between a rock and a hard place. Both men were equally fearsome. He hated that he was forced to betray the one man who had given him a chance and mentored him in the ways of crime.
“I’ll tell you, but I need you to promise—”
“You’re in no position to bargain, Seely.”
“All I’m asking is that …” he hesitated for a split second, “you make it quick.”
The nod of the regal man took a long time coming. Seely reached for the notebook he’d been playing tic-tac-toe on. He turned the page and picked up the pen. Try as he might, he couldn’t force the name past his lips, he scribbled it down quickly.
Eyes colder than the Arctic wind lifted to his. The glacial gleam that frosted over the irises chilled Seely to the bone.
The soft pop registered only after his mouth gaped open from the force of the bullet tearing a hole through his heart. In that brief moment, he could hear the wall clock ticking like the timer on a bomb. He couldn’t stop it, reverse it, or slow it down. Each tick dragged him forward, closer to the dark void inching rapidly nearer to swallow him whole. The dread of what was now waiting for him became an invisible demon smirking in front of his vacant eyes. He released a stuttering gurgle as he toppled from the chair.
<
br /> He was dead before his head smashed against the floor.
His hands were steady as he carefully inserted the flash drive in the slot of the server. He blended in with the rest of the crew in crisp military gear. It had been child’s play to use his military connections to obtain access to Cheyenne Mountain Nuclear Bunker in the Colorado Mountains as an IT Tech to do routine maintenance on the servers. He switched on a small hand-held unit. Within seconds the intricate design of the server appeared on the screen. He typed in a command and waited for it to connect with the Nano virus that Blackmore had planted a couple of weeks ago.
“Bingo,” he mumbled as a small red dot marked its position. He tapped on the location and set it as the course for the nanotech virus that would be downloaded via the flash drive. He needed to destroy it before Jessica Simmons got here. At this stage of the game, he didn’t want the Sixth Order to be alerted and if she managed to get to it and it unleashed the destruction on their new system, they’d know.
He typed in the command and watched as the green dot moved in the direction of the red one. Within seconds, the red dot dissolved. His fingers flew over the small keyboard as he encoded the new virus with a new command. When she accessed the folder, if she was as good as the Sixth Order believed she was, she’d be able to decrypt and download the one he’d layered as a smokescreen. As soon as that was done, the Nano virus would destroy the MOKV folder and its contents in its entirety, never to be recovered in any form. It was a new guided Nano IT technology that had just been developed in secret by Nano engineers and was unknown to the world. No matter how good a hacker she was, she’d never know it wasn’t the actual folder she was after. She’d leave the bunker, assured that she’d managed to decrypt the folder to download it, unaware that the folder contained a Nano tracker that would enable him to gain access to the Sixth Order’s mainframe as soon as she logged onto it.
He didn’t loiter but left as soon as everything was set. He’d set up a trigger on Jessica Simmons name at every public and private airline. A notification that she’d landed in a private plane at Butts AAF had warned him of her impending arrival. If not for his decision to push Seely quicker for intel, he’d have been too late.
“Let’s see how long it takes you, Slasher.”
He settled his large frame in the army jeep and waited. His patience was awarded thirty minutes later when Jessica Simmons was dropped off with a shuttle, along with some crew. He recognized her from the photo he’d managed to uncover in the deep web. She was good at hiding from the public eye but vanity had played a role. He’d found a photo she’d posted of herself in a private post on her Facebook page.
He switched on the monitor that was still linked to the server. His lips twisted as he watched every command she entered. It took her just over an hour.
“Well, I am impressed. I expected it would be closer to three.”
A brief system’s check confirmed that the entire server had been wiped clean after Jessica had retrieved the shadow file. The only copy of the MOKV design now resided in the safety of the Government in an undisclosed location. He remained where he was until he watched the shuttle pick her up.
“Let’s just make sure you go where you’re supposed to.” He cranked the engine and followed them back to Fort Carson. There was no delay when she arrived, and the plane took off immediately. He quickly hacked into the airfield system to confirm her destination.
“Yep, run to the bastards.” He barked out a laugh as he got out of the jeep and walked toward the chopper he’d rented to fly there earlier. “And nobody would be any the wiser. They don’t have the technical or engineering savvy to know that the designs they’d be looking at is from a software game.”
He laughed as he listened to the whine of the blades overhead.
“Finally, their time has come.”
Chapter Twenty-One
It took a couple of seconds for the information to stop blurring in front of Lexi’s eyes. Elation roared through her in waves. She quickly dialed Lance’s number.
“It’s him, Lance!” she burst out the moment he answered the phone, not allowing him a chance to say hello.
“Thank god.” Lexi detected the emotion that thickened his voice. “Are you a hundred percent sure, honey?”
“Yes. It’s conclusive. It was Jack’s blood spatter you found in that shelter.” She hesitated briefly. “Babe, you realize that he’d been severely injured. He might not have survived.”
“He did. If he could fool death with that bomb, he’d find a way to stay alive. Thanks for rushing it. At least now we can offer Jordan some peace. I have to tell everyone, love. I’ll see you later.”
“I love you, Lance Talbot, do you know that?”
“No more than I love you, Lexi Calvert.”
Lance ended the call as he rushed toward Rhone’s office where he found Keon, Max, and Richard discussing the latest upsetting news. More than half of the Massage Parlor operatives that had been in custody had been murdered. The rest had personally been moved to undisclosed locations by a Precision Secure team.
“There has to be a fucking leak at MPD,” Max said.
“Check that file with the political connections of the Sixth Order; if any of them have an association with the officers that had knowledge of their location, we might be lucky,” Rhone clipped out. He was becoming increasingly annoyed at the Syndicate’s ability to stay one step ahead of them. “Lance,” he said as he noticed him in the doorway. “Join us.”
“Lexi just confirmed; it’s Jack’s blood we found in that bomb shelter.”
“Fuck yeah!” Max pumped a fist into the air. For the first time in almost six weeks, he had a broad smile on his face.
“God, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that.” Rhone was awash with joy. It flowed through him to fill his heart with warmth. It had exceedingly been growing colder with every death or injury of one of his team. So much so that he had feared he stood on the edge of falling back into the same black void of emotionless despair where it was much easier to cope with loss. If not for Samantha and their baby she was expecting that managed to keep him sane and floating on a cloud of self-discovery, it would have been much harder to fight.
“I wonder if it’s wise to tell Jordan yet,” he speculated aloud.
“I vote, yes. She never believed he died in that explosion and irrespective of the injuries he suffered, I know he’s out there working alongside us.”
“Very well, Lance. Will you and Max inform her and let Bruce and Ethan know as well. I’ll phone Flores to update him.”
Rhone waited until the door closed behind him. He glanced at Keon who hadn’t said a word in response to the news. The quiet joy on his face told its own tale. He was too overcome with emotion to express his feelings.
“There’s one thing that’s been bothering me since I interrogated Emily Sanchez,” Rhone said as he leaned back in the chair.
“Shoot.”
“At first, I thought she referred to a name but the more I think about the murder of Delaware, the more I believe otherwise.”
“Delaware? The engineer who worked on the development of the MOKV?”
“Yes. She overheard a conversation of Seely where he spoke to Don.”
Keon straightened, his look sharp and alert. “It could be Don as in the Don of the mafia.”
“My thoughts exactly. I’ve been revisiting my theory that Seely still has an association with the mob and that he had been planted in the Sixth Order as their snitch.”
“Are you referring to the mob in general or the Occhipinti mafia group?”
“I’m not sure. I had a brief discussion with Colt Fargo last night, and according to him, the Occhipintis are currently under the management of the Cosa Nostra, seeing as no one had immediately stepped into Vito Vitale’s role after his death.”
Keon frowned as he searched Rhone’s expression. “Do you think Colt is up to something? That he might be involved in some way?”
“I don’t kn
ow what to think, mate. Colt hated the role as Damiano and being the hateful and most feared of all mobsters even more, but one thing I also know without a doubt, is that he loved Vito. He was still young when Luca took Colt away from his family and forced him into a life of crime. Vito was the only sibling he had during those years.”
“Are we considering that he’s the one who helped Seely escape to use him against the Sixth Order?”
“If not him, who else?”
“Good question. I’ll get Richard to search the dark web for any cyber communication to and from Seely. If it’s not Colt seeking vengeance for Vito’s death, it can only be one of the Cosa Nostra families and that will result in a blood bath.”
“With thousands of innocent bystanders being part of the slaughter.” Rhone got up. “I have something to attend to. Chat to Richard in the meantime.”
He checked his watch as he walked into the secure room where Emily Sanchez was kept. She looked up with weary eyes and sat the book she’d been reading down on the bed.
“When is this incarceration going to end?”
Rhone looked around at the spacious room that contained a bathroom, double bed, comfortable sofa, and wide screen television. Books and magazines were stacked on the coffee table.
“Would you prefer that I take you to MPD for their spacious cell accommodation?”
She winced but didn’t look away. “I’ve told you everything I know. What else do you want from me?”
“It’s time for your weekly call to Gun.”
Her eyes widened. “To what purpose? By now they must know about the bust and that the lab and stash houses have been raided.”
“Yes, but we kept the information that you’d been captured from the news. As far as the public is concerned, you were totally unaware of the lab under the shelter.”
“Why?” she asked in a hoarse voice.
“I told you we’ll keep you safe if you turn state witness. For as long as they believe you’ve not been made, they won’t pursue you.”