Ruined in Retribution (Titanium Book 3)

by Valia Lind

  Putting the pizza slice I grabbed down, I open the folder and stare at the picture inside.

  It's Foster. I have no doubt about it, even though the picture is grainy. He looks just as I remember him, dressed in a fine suit, not a care in the world. He's been MIA since the bombing and after months, this is the first real sighting we have.

  "He was spotted in Mexico three days ago. One of uncle's connections emailed him the photo. He's nowhere near his regular places of business, but uncle has feelers all over the world and this one finally paid off."

  I stare at the picture, hating the man so much my hands begin to shake. He may not be the top dog at Kallos, but he's pretty close, and taking him out would be very beneficial in bringing the whole company down. Maybe he will finally be able to lead us to the real boss.

  After all this time, we still have only heard whispers that someone else is running the place. Foster has been such a big public face of the corporation, it's hard to believe there really is someone behind the scenes. If it wasn't for the fact that the general confirmed it as well, I would've thought the whole thing was a hoax.

  "Where is he now?" I ask, trying to get control over my emotions.

  "He entered the U.S. this morning. Freddie is tracking his movements as we speak."

  I stand, the need to pace suddenly the only thing on my mind. If I can get to him, if I can get close, I may get some answers. If he doesn't kill me first. Actually, if I don't kill him first.

  "Logan, you know going after him is suicide. He's too well protected, especially now. Especially with Tasia here." Calen can read me like a book. Probably because his mind is on the exact same train of thought. But we can't let this opportunity go. If Freddie can find his location, there's nothing to stop me from going.

  "It needs to be done. You know it's about time Foster and I had a face to face."

  "He'll kill you on sight." Calen contradicts and I can't argue with him on that one. But it doesn't change the facts.

  "You can't expect me to just sit by," I reply, turning to face him. He looks resigned and I can't blame him. We've all come to terms with who we are at this point and he understands just how stubborn I am.

  "Freddie expected you to say as much," Calen finally sighs, grabbing one of the pizza slices out of the box. "He's also arranging for Blake to be sent away." The last line is delivered as an afterthought, but I can tell just how much it hurts him to say it.

  "She's too close to danger here. Especially in her fragile state," I say, pushing for some kind of a comfort.

  "I know that," Calen says, pain shining clearly in his eyes. "But it doesn't make any of this easier."

  We sit silently for a moment, as he takes a bite of his pizza. I know he expects me to eat as well, but I can't even fathom food at the moment. My mind is racing with the possibilities, with everything that needs to be done, with every one who I need to protect.

  "You could go with her," I finally say, and Calen jerks to attention.

  "Freddie said the same thing. He also said you'll suggest it too."

  I smile at that, because I've learned that Freddie and I are a lot more alike than I would've ever imagined. We would do anything for the people who are important to us. Even risk our own wellbeing.

  "I'm not leaving, Logan. I can't. But Blake needs to go. She needs to be away from this, to get better. And when the time comes, I'll follow."

  There's no arguing with him when he's like this. I remember Tasia mentioning just how stubborn her cousin was, but seeing it first hand is another matter. He's just as determined as he's always been. And he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot more openly than he would want, I'm sure.

  But he's a good man and I'm afraid this chain of events will not end well for him. Foster eats good men for breakfast. So does the general. This is why I have to be better than that. Why I have to push away any doubts and misconceptions of what's expected of me and do my job.

  I promised Tasia I would get her back and I will. But I also promised her that I'll protect her family and I can't fail her there.

  I need a plan and I need it now.

  * * *

  "Here's everything I've been able to find," Freddie says, coming into the room the next morning. I've been sleeping on a cot, pushed against the opposite wall, so I can see the front door. Calen went back to the safe house last night, to say goodbye to his sister. She should be leaving any minute, if she hasn't already.

  I get off the bed, running a hand over my face to wake myself up. Freddie looks like he's been up for hours, showered and pressed for a full day of work. I look like I've resigned myself to living like a bum.

  "Where's Calen?" I ask, as Freddie makes his way to the kitchen and puts on a pot of coffee.

  "He'll be here in a few. He wanted to take Blake to the airstrip."

  I nod, accepting that at face value. The poor guy has suffered too much. I wish he was going with Blake. It would make my job of protecting him so much easier.

  "No way he's going with her?"

  "Of course not. He said she would never allow him to abandon Tasia like this."

  I accept that as well. As much as Tasia thought she was alone, she had a great wall of protection around her that she took for granted. Now they're making themselves known and I'm not sure I would be able to do any of this without them. They're my wall of protection now as well.

  "I have a few friends in Ireland who will take her in and help her get back on her feet. I'm hoping the farther she goes from this place, the less likely the drugs will work on her. I'll send the appropriate information their way about the extraction, when we know more."

  He pours a cup of coffee, handing it to me, along with a pile of papers. I accept it gratefully, before leaning against the counter and taking a sip. Freddie pulls the laptop closer to him, examining Tasia as she sleeps. She had half of a restful night last night. She didn't toss and turn as much and her dream screaming was minimal. I'm not sure if that means the counter-drug is working or if her body is so exhausted, it can't even dream anymore.

  "He's back to his apartment in the city?" I ask, reading over the papers Freddie brought over. He turns away from the computer, meeting my gaze.

  "He made it very obvious after he hit the city limits."

  "You think it's a trap?" I ask the question, but I can see the answer in Freddie's eyes. If I was trying to draw people out, I'd make it a point to be visible as well. Maybe I should try that, instead of what I cooked up in the wee hours of the morning.

  "He's being smart, but he's being very visible," Freddie answers, keeping a close eye on me. Almost as if he can read my mind on the matter. Why is it I never have a problem fooling anyone else, but he has an almost father's intuition when it comes to me?

  "We need him to be a bit more visible and the general needs to be there." I state, taking another swig of my coffee, another plan forming in my mind.

  "What exactly are you proposing?"

  "If the timeline fits and if he's keeping all of his prior engagements, there's a number of public events coming up. They'll be heavily protected and we'll have to be careful, but it'll give me access I wouldn't otherwise have."

  "You can't just waltz into an event and think that you won't be taken down immediately."

  "No, but I can make sure the general is there causing just enough trouble for me to be able to slip through."

  It's a good plan, Freddie can't exactly disagree with that. But I know he's worried even before he says another word. It's a risk, a great risk, but we can't be clandestine anymore. Sneaking around in the shadows is no longer an option. We have to make a stand now, before it becomes too late. It's what Tasia would've done. It's what she basically did when she went back to that community, putting herself on display in front of the man she wanted to kill.

  "It has to be planned down to a T, Logan. We can't take any chances with this. No surprises."

  I'm glad he's not trying to talk me out of it. Maybe he understands that this is something I have to
do. No matter what.

  Getting Foster out in the open will be difficult, but what will be more difficult is getting the general to play. If I can get those two at each other's throats, it'll give me more freedom than I have now. The general wants those drugs and Foster clearly knows something about The Company, or he wouldn't have been able to tell Tasia.

  If we can figure out a way to get all the key players against each other, I may be able to have a chance at ending this. Once and for all.

  11.

  LOGAN

  "Where have you been?" the general asks by the way of greeting the moment I step out of the car. This time I came alone and I came late. I needed to shake things up and this is the easiest way: making sure things aren't going according to the general's plan.

  "I've been busy," I reply, keeping my facial expression neutral. The less I tell him, the better. However, I can't look like I'm trying to hide anything. He'll make it his mission to find out the truth, if he thinks I'm lying to him, and he won't hesitate to use deadly force to extract his information.

  "What can be more important than⎯

  I cut him off with a raised hand and it's the bold move that surprises him into silence. I don't wait for him to recover, before I speak.

  "I have information on Foster."

  He stares at me hard, as I add just enough smugness into my voice to rattle his nerves. Not that my blatant insubordination hasn't done so already. My attitude is serving as a tool at the moment and I have to keep it so, without making things worse for me.

  "Well, would you like a formal invitation to share?" the general snaps at my silence. Oh yes, he's definitely angry and I have to fight to keep my face from portraying the pleasure I find in that.

  "He's back in the city," I begin and it's the general's turn to interrupt me.

  "I already know that," he states, barely keeping his annoyance in check. If I was standing closer, he probably would've slapped me by now. He still might.

  "Do you know he has a fundraising event scheduled for next weekend?" I ask, casually leaning against the hood of my car. The general's eyes light up with interest at my words and I can almost see the gears turning in his brain. He's scheming, already. Just like I predicted.

  "When?"

  "Saturday night. River's Ranch."

  The name of the venue gives him a pause, just like I thought it would.

  "An odd choice."

  "He's trying to appeal to the public," I say, offhandedly. "Having another high rollers event wouldn't exactly invite the community's participation. He needs an 'everyman' event and River's Ranch is his ticket in."

  What I don't say is that Foster is having another one of the rich and famous events, but not for another month. This is not the information I'm going to share with the general, because I want him to make a move at this one. The money Foster will raise from such an event won't fund much, but the support will be beyond helpful, because it's very public. He and his boss are master manipulators and that's why Foster came back. He can't be hiding in the shadows forever and I'm sure losing Tasia hasn't been part of his plan. This event works better for my own purposes, because it allows me the necessary access and it's why I'm telling the general all about it now.

  Three can play this game.

  "He's not stupid," the general says, mulling over this information. He has that look in his eyes that I've always found terrifying. It's probably why I don't think before I ask the next question.

  "What are you planning?"

  His eyes snap to mine at my words and I fight to keep my ground. As a kid, he's always been able to level me with a look, but I'm not a kid anymore. I also don't have the luxury of backing down. I cower just enough to keep the suspicion off his face, and he relaxes. He's always found me useless and stupid and if playing up those attributes will help me now, I'm not above using every trick in the book.

  "I'm planning a sit down with Mr. Foster. This event will be a great way to meet the man."

  The general doesn't say anything else, turning around and walking back to his truck. I've been dismissed, but the seed has been planted. If I know him at all, he'll be there and he'll be sure to have a sit down with Foster. It'll be less of an assault this time, and more of a recon mission for him personally. He wants those drugs for himself. He'll break whatever laws he needs to, in order to make that happen. Sometimes ambition isn't a blessing, it's a downfall.

  He doesn't wait for me to deliver any kind of information, just leaves me standing there. I've served my purpose.

  I get back into my car, mulling over what needs to be done. There has to be a way for me to go to that party alone, without Freddie or Calen looking over my shoulder. There isn't a way I could ever convince Foster that I am on his side and I won't try. But I need to know if there's a way I can bring Tasia back. Lucas can be my way in. If I can convince him of the truth behind general's actions, I may get him to get me to Foster.

  After sending a brief text to Freddie and Calen with an update, I get back on the road. But I don't drive to the safe house. Almost as if on automatic, my brain guides me back toward the museum, where Tasia and I first reconnected. Not exactly sure what brings me here, but as I look for a spot to park, I know I need it.

  Once I'm inside the museum, it's easy to get lost in the crowd, and my own memories. I remember what I felt the moment I saw her walk through the doors. At that point I had vague information about her family and both the general and Foster had a keen interest in the work her father did before his death. I was curious about the girl I knew as an seven-year-old, but I wasn't prepared at just how powerful my pull toward her would be.

  I stop in front of one of the paintings, my mind lost in thought. The moment she walked into the gala, I knew who she was. I don't think Foster had any idea until later on, but at that moment, I knew. There was something about her, the way she carried herself maybe, that reminded me of my childhood best friend.

  Growing up, I was never allowed to have friends. Not really. Just people I could use for my own personal gain. That's what the general always said and that's how I started to operate. But when Tasia's family moved across the street from us, I couldn't help but be drawn to her. She made me be a real boy, for the first time in my young life. That's not something anyone would forget.

  A group of kids run into me, jarring me back to the present. The woman ushering them past me gives me a small tired smile and I return it. One of the little girls looks up, awe written all over her face as she looks around before her eyes settle on me and she blushes. I grin down at her and she hurries after her group, but the feeling she leaves behind lingers. She looks so much like Tasia did at her age that it brings all the emotions I've been storing up to the surface. I'm not a crier by nature, but I feel like I'm going to lose it right here, in public.

  Pushing it all away, I leave the museum and the memories behind. It's time to have a heart to heart with Tasia. No matter how painful it may be.

  * * *

  When I finally get back to the safe house, after a few careful hours of evasion tactics, Calen and Freddie are both there. There's a certain type of sadness I notice in their eyes and I know they feel guilty for sending Blake away. Neither comments on my late arrival or demands answers I can't give. Freddie knows part of the plan and I'm sure he's shared it with Calen. But they don't question me at the moment, almost as if sensing I have other things on my mind.

  "How is she?" I ask, after shedding my coat and walking to the kitchen. Calen is the one to answer, while I pour myself a glass of water.

  "She's been in and out of it for the last hour. It's time for her next dosage in, about ten minutes."

  "Don't give it to her."

  My quiet statement stops whatever it is they're doing, both of them looking up at me in shock.

  "What do you mean, don't give it to her?" Calen asks, studying me closely.

  "Just that. I need to talk to her and she needs to be as awake as possible." I take a swig of water, staring over Freddie's sho
ulder at the sleeping Tasia on the computer screen. She's been restless again. I can tell because her arms and legs are bandaged with new gauze and her face looks paler, even from this far away.

  "Do you think it's a good idea?" Freddie asks quietly. "You know we haven't been able to find a way to get those capsules out of her. Just suppress their effects."

  "I know that," I say, putting my glass down and walking back around the counter. "But we don't know if there is a way to get them out, at all. Waiting it out, until they're all out of her system isn't the best idea, and you can see that. It's wearing her body out."

  "What are our choices, Logan?" Calen asks, standing up to lean against his desk. "It's not like she can just break through the drug like before. She's too weak for that."

  "Only because we made her that way."

  "No, she lost the battle long before we did anything," Calen retorts and I understand the guilt he's feeling. I feel it too. If I was having trouble holding it all together at the museum, Calen has even more emotion stored up. He's braver than what he gives himself credit for.

  "We need to let her try, Calen," I say softly, keeping my gaze on him now. "She's the strongest person we know and we have to give her a shot. If it gets too bad, then we know what to do. But we need her back. Desperately."

  There's a moment of silence as we all come to terms with what it has come down to. We are in desperate times, because the drug is about to make a worldwide debut and the major powers-that-be are going to be fighting to get their hands on it. We can't put our own feelings in front of what needs to be done.

  I realize that's exactly what I've been doing with Tasia. I've been so afraid to hurt her, to make it worse than it already is, that I didn't stop to think that maybe protecting her is the dumbest thing I can do. What I said is true. She is the strongest person I know and much stronger than we give her credit for. My protecting her doesn't help her be strong, it makes her weak. That has to stop now. If it doesn't stop now, it'll be years, and we'll still be trying to break this cycle.