by Margaret Kay
Allen wanted AJ, no he expected him, to stay in Cleveland and work for the family business. He couldn’t tell if this was the first that Allen was hearing that AJ didn’t want to. That respect that Allen spoke of having for him earlier, Sloan was sure would not be extended to AJ for a similar choice.
“AJ, killing the enemy before they kill you is expected, but it fucks with a man’s mind and soul. I was both a sniper and a medic. Think about that. It was my job to take out threats but also to save lives.”
“So, you did shoot people?” AJ asked again.
Sloan knew his stare at the young man was intense, probably even scary. He nodded once. “I did my job. You’ve been surrounded by death your entire life at the funeral home, but it’s different out there. I didn’t realize that till I was there. And as a medic, treating my brothers, trying to stop the bleeding, holding a man’s hand and promising him he’ll be okay when he’s bleeding out and you know damn well you can’t stop it. You watch the life drain from him until he’s gone, and that is hell. I’ve seen it break the strongest of men. So, think long and hard about wanting to do what I do. There is nothing glamorous about it. The hours are long, the conditions horrendous, and the food not always palatable. You see people at their worst and wonder how in the hell God lets any of this shit go on.”
Allen and Leslie both looked shocked. In AJ’s eyes, Sloan saw that he was still processing what he’d just said. He guessed the kid had hit overload. Allen and Leslie sure had. “Any other questions, AJ?”
AJ shook his head. “Not right now.”
“Text or call me anytime. The last thing I want to leave you with is that while some of the jobs in the Navy are as safe as civilian jobs, many do put your life in danger. Even on the team I’m on now, what I do is dangerous. About six months ago on one mission, one of my teammates took a bullet in her vest and another’s arm got grazed. Even though we are all highly trained and have the best equipment and weapons to do what we do, it’s dangerous.”
“What do you do now, Uncle Gary?”
Sloan pulled his badge and creds out. “I’m a special agent with the ATF assigned to a multi-agency task force, something you cannot tell anyone, not any of your friends, your girlfriend, nobody. That’s another part about serving, being mature enough to keep secrets. There is a lot of information that is classified, and you promise to never reveal when you’re in the military.”
“Wow,” AJ said. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
Sloan nodded. “I’m counting on you to do that. If you can’t keep this promise, don’t even think about joining the military.”
AJ’s face was serious. He nodded. “Do you carry a gun?”
“I am required to be armed at all times.”
“You have it on you now?”
Sloan nodded. He glanced at Allen, who nodded his head yes. Sloan pulled his weapon, holster and all from the small of his back. “This is a special holster. No one can grab my gun from it and use it. I have to disable a lock in how I grip it to draw my weapon.” He demonstrated it. He held the weapon up, its barrel pointed to the wall. “This is a Sig Sauer P220, .45 caliber semiautomatic handgun. This is not a toy, it will kill. I don’t want you to ever touch one without the proper training. Do you understand me?”
The boy nodded; eyes wide. “I promise.”
“Have you ever shot a gun, AJ?” Sloan asked.
“No, sir,” he replied, his voice dead serious.
Sloan was sure that it was the first time AJ was seeing a gun in person by the look on his face. “I’ll take leave when I can, and if it’s okay with your parents, I’ll take you to the range and teach you how to shoot. I’ll teach you safety and then after, I’ll teach you how to clean a weapon. Would that be okay, Allen?”
Allen looked unsure. “Yes, I guess if he has to handle one, I’d want him taught by someone who is an expert at it.”
Sloan re-holstered his weapon and slid it back into the top of his jeans in the small of his back. He checked his watch. “I should get back to the hotel.” Sloan counted on his fingers the number of curses he’d just used. “That’s four swears. I’ll drop a five in the jar on my way out.”
Leslie cracked a smile. “I don’t think the house rules apply to this conversation.”
They all stood. AJ reached his hand out to shake Sloan’s hand. Sloan pulled him into a bear hug.
Allen walked Sloan out. “I had no idea you were a SEAL. I’m really proud of you, bro.”
Sloan’s lips curved into a grin. “I did my job. I still do my job. I’m hoping to be around once in a while, more than I have been. I really do want to teach AJ to shoot.”
“Thank you, for what you told him about everything. I will admit when you first started talking, I was worried. But you painted him a strong picture.”
“I just told him the truth, Allen. I was worried you and Leslie would be pissed, but he’s nearly a man and he asked, so I felt he needed to know. I didn’t know what I was getting into when I joined. Be a Navy SEAL, sounded cool. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I did it. I’ve made a difference and I’m happy with what my life’s been. Even now, the group I work with are all former military, mostly special forces. The brotherhood and teamwork are something like no other group outside of the Teams, a family.”
Allen nodded, though Sloan knew he could never comprehend what he was talking about.
“What’s it like? Taking another human being’s life?”
Sloan stared at his brother in disbelief he was asking him that. He ran his hand through his hair. His eyes gazed away as he answered. “It sucks. You know how you feel when someone you love dies and you know you’re about to cause someone else that anguish. But you know if you don’t, that target will kill either you or one of your brothers.”
Allen’s stare was intense. “I guess I never really thought about what you did, how you’d feel about it, I don’t know.” He paused and shook his head. “Thanks for talking to AJ.”
“No problem. Tell him to call me with any other questions. He’s interested. That’s not going away on its own, and you can’t stop him from making those decisions, bro. You’d like to keep him here, but if he’s got any of his Uncle Gary in him, he’s got restlessness in him too.”
Golf
Sloan returned to the motel. When he entered the room, an irrational jealousy flared. Both Sherman and Trio sat relaxed on the bed, their backs against the headboard, legs extended in front of them. Kennedy laid on her stomach between them, her head near the foot of the bed. They were watching a movie. Lambchop sat in the chair nearest the door.
“Hey,” he greeted as he entered.
“How was dinner at the bro’s?” Sherman asked.
“It was good. Leslie’s a good cook. Did you guys eat anything?”
“Yeah, Madison brought us roast chicken and beef brisket, mac and cheese, potatoes, even a salad. It was very good,” Lambchop replied.
“That’s good. I should have asked if you needed me to swing through a drive through for you, but I didn’t think about it till now.”
“No worries,” Lambchop said dismissively.
“Allen had no additional info, but Kennedy’s family is pushing for the funeral to be this weekend. He’s not sure he can hold them off. Any word from Big Bear?” He watched Kennedy for a reaction as he spoke. Her eyes remained focused on the television; her facial expression unchanged.
Lambchop’s eyes went to Kennedy. “Razor is attempting to recover those pics Kennedy snapped that the LAPD detective deleted. They’re also doing a deep dive on that cop and the four men Kennedy gave us info on and accused of sexual assault, and on Stanley, her manager. Two of them have had allegations against them that sealed settlements resolved.”
“And the kid? Any luck in tracking down that girl Kennedy brought to the police?”
“Negative,” Lambchop replied. “Razor has Smith and the entire digital team pulling anything they can to figure out who and where she is. While you were at dinner Kenned
y provided the route she took, and the approximate time she took that girl to the police. The team is trying to pull all camera footage they can. If we can get a good picture of the kid, we can run it and see if we can get any hits on social media. I’m sure her momma would have her picture all over her social media account if the kid doesn’t have one of her own.”
“Is there any indication of who Kennedy will give her statement to and where?” Sloan asked, moving over and seating himself on the foot of the bed in front of Sherman’s feet. Kennedy still focused on the television. You’d think they were talking in a foreign language that she didn’t understand or about something she had no interest in. Sloan found that odd and annoying.
“That’s still being discussed,” Lambchop replied.
Sloan could tell he had more to say. He wondered if this continuing as a mission depended on if they could verify Kennedy’s statement. He’d ask Lambchop about it the next time Kennedy went into the bathroom or he’d pull Lambchop into the hall. Sloan believed her and he would until he was presented with ironclad proof she was lying.
Kennedy’s silence and lack of reaction to her situation being discussed really bothered Sloan. He threw his hands into the air. “Jesus Kennedy, not even a glance our way as we discuss you?”
Her gaze slowly shifted to him. “What does it matter? You and your team are going to do what you’re going to do. You’ve made that clear.”
“We’re not your enemies,” Sloan said. “We’re here to protect you and help bring this group of predators down. What they’ve been doing isn’t okay and making moves on a fourteen-year-old is criminal. They murdered that girl, thinking she was you. They have to be stopped.”
“I just don’t believe they can be. This has been their business as usual for a really long time. You weren’t there. You never saw it.”
“It’s a good thing I didn’t,” Sloan swore under his breath. Yeah, had he moved out to L.A. with Kennedy as she had asked, he would most likely be in jail because he would have killed one of those scumbags.
“That’s really damn easy for you to say now. These men are powerful, and the culture of sexual abuse and keeping quiet about it has a strangle-hold on everyone in the industry.”
“All it takes is a couple of people to come forward like they did against Harvey Weinestein,” Sloan said.
“Do you even realize how long that went on and how many girls were abused before someone finally listened and did something about it? This abusive behavior goes on for decades. When you’re in the culture and you see what happens to other girls who either refuse to play ball or speak up, you know how powerful these people really are.”
“What happens to them?” Mother asked.
“They are black balled by their own label, by promoters, radio programmers, even other bands and their managers. These people are rich and powerful and make or break your career. I know mine is toast now.”
“They sent someone to kill you. How can you sit here telling us how abusive the industry is and defend staying in it, when having a career means you’re surrounding yourself with abusers?”
“You don’t get it! And you never will because you’re not female. Stan had me convinced this was how it was everywhere, and you see it, so you believe it.”
“That’s a bullshit copout! You were twenty-one when you went out there. It’s not like you were a kid. You knew that wasn’t the way the world works.”
“Isn’t it? Look at all the rich and powerful people who allegations have been made against in recent years for things that have been going on for decades. That’s why there is the ‘Me Too’ movement, because it has happened to so many women, and not just in the entertainment business. Men’s abusive sexual behavior with women they have power over and with young girls is nothing new. Hell, look at that billionaire Jeffrey Epstein who supposedly killed himself in jail. He had a jet they called the Lolita Express and a whole island where sex with underaged girls took place. He flew his rich and powerful friends to that island, lots of them from what I’ve read. This sort of thing is more pervasive than anyone wants to admit.”
“If everyone said no, it wouldn’t happen. Why don’t women stand up for themselves and band together to help every other woman?” Sloan’s tone was argumentative.
“Let’s bring this down a notch,” Mother said calmly. He knew Sloan well enough to know that he was about to start screaming at her. “Kennedy did act to get that girl out, and she did give us a lot of details and names that HQ is checking out. I’m sure the digital team will be up all night.”
Sloan laughed out loud, picturing Garcia with his hands on a keyboard. This kind of shit was what the man lived for.
“That’s funny?” Kennedy demanded. What an asshole! Blaming women for men’s poor behavior, so typical.
Sloan smirked. “I wasn’t laughing about you. I was thinking about one of our teammates digging into the intel you gave.”
Now Sherman laughed. “Digging into people’s lives gives Razor a hard-on.”
Kennedy glanced back at the television. The ending credits rolled across the screen. What movie had they just watched? And how did it end? She couldn’t remember. She yawned deeply. How could she be so tired? She didn’t know the answers to any of her own questions. She had to believe her jumbled mental state had to be the result of the heat up in that attic. She only hoped she didn’t do permanent damage to her brain.
Lambchop watched her yawn. He checked his watch. It was twenty-one hundred, local time. He came to his feet. “I’m going to go back to the room that Mother and I got. I’ll touch bases with Shepherd and text you if there are any updates. Mother will stay here tonight. You three come up with a rotation. I want one of you awake and on guard at all times.”
The other men nodded.
“I’ll be back at zero-seven hundred with breakfast,” Lambchop added.
Sloan walked him to the door. “I had the feeling there was more of an update.”
“Yeah, Garcia has already dug up something tangible on the men she identified. Shepherd contacted Whiting. We’re sanctioned through DC to continue this case. The FBI will give us any support or backup we need, but this case is ours.”
Sloan was surprised by this. He wondered why the Deputy Director of the FBI didn’t want to take this investigation over. Well, there was more to this than met the eye. Sloan knew that these people they were going after were powerful in the entertainment industry. If they ended up barking up the wrong tree on any of them, it would make sense for the FBI to have some distance from it, he guessed.
“Did Shepherd approve transport to the Silo?”
“Not yet,” Lambchop said. “We’ll touch bases with Shepherd in the morning after the digital team has all night to do their thing. Madison asked if we wanted to fly back with her tonight. I told her no, but it’s looking like there’s not much more for us to do here. Maybe we should have.”
“I’m still hoping for the Silo. I’m telling you, she’s a flight risk.”
Lambchop glanced back at Kennedy. “Yeah, I know,” he whispered.
Kennedy couldn’t hear their short conversation. Then Lambchop left and Gary engaged the night lock. He gave her a nod as he took his seat back on the foot of the bed.
“So, what will the sleeping arrangements be tonight?” Kennedy asked.
“It’s a king-sized bed. It’ll fit three of us and one of us will be awake at all times,” Sloan said.
“I’m not sleeping in this bed with two of you.” Kennedy stated firmly. They were crazy if they thought she would.
Sloan’s lips tipped into a grin. “It’s sleep, Kennedy. That’s it.”
“Why do you two have a room with a king and not two queens, anyway? Are you really partners?” She asked with sexual intent.
All three men laughed.
“Not even close,” Sloan replied once he stopped laughing. “It’s all they had available when we checked in last night.”
“Well, I’m not sleeping in a bed with two of you
,” she repeated. “I’m not going to be sandwiched in between anyone.”
“How about you take the end and I’ll sleep in the middle on top of the covers. I promise, no one is going to try anything tonight.”
“I’ll take the first four hours,” Mother volunteered. He stood and walked over to the desk chair and pulled it over closer to the door.
“And I’ll take the second. Mother and I got it covered,” the Cajun added, giving Sloan a nod. He knew Kennedy would feel more comfortable with Sloan sleeping beside her than either him or Mother.
Sloan watched Kennedy yawn again. “Okay, let’s wrap it up then.” He rose and went to the far side of the bed, where Mother had been sitting. He pulled the covers back. “This can be your side, Kennedy.”
She crawled on all fours up to the head of the bed, flopping onto her side so her back was towards the middle of the bed. She pulled the covers over herself. “You can be under the covers if you want, Gary.”
