Had something bad happened?
Had something gone wrong?
Was his apprentice making a mess of this?
All of that, and so much more, went through his mind as the seconds ticked away on the timer on his phone.
Then, the fear stopped.
He saw him.
From the safety of his car, he watched the man head out of the alley, down the street, and to his own vehicle. He hopped in, flashed the lights at him as his signal, and then drove calmly down the street.
When he passed him, he could see the smile, the wicked twinkle in his eye, and the look of self-satisfaction for a job that was well done.
He knew it had gone off without a hitch.
His apprentice had followed through, and he looked pleased. That spoke volumes.
It was done.
His apprentice had set the scene, he’d left the trail, and now it was all about pulling everyone who was involved in this back to the mess.
His revenge was coming.
He could feel it to his bones.
When she found the body, she would know who was doing this and that was also part of the plan.
Then she’d hunt.
And, hopefully, she’d find.
It was perfect, and before it was over, he’d take down all those who screwed with his life.
They’d taken so much.
Now it was his turn to take some too.
This was not only the beginning of his retribution, but it was the end of their reign.
Finally.
* * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *
Washington DC
Thursday Early
Seven A.M
It was inventory day, and Doctor Christopher Leonard had to come in super early to make sure his team had everything accounted for in Autopsy One.
A prepared lab was a productive one, and it was his job to make sure that they could work at optimal output.
The Blackhawks trusted him to do it and do it well, and there was no way he was going to let them down.
It wasn’t happening.
He respected his position at the FBI.
He revered it. Without his job of ME for the Violent Crimes team, Chris didn’t know where he’d be in life.
That wasn’t true. He knew damn well.
He’d be lost.
There were only so many things in his life that he held to a higher standard than himself.
His job.
His child.
His relationship with the Blackhawks—specifically, Elizabeth.
They came first in his life, and Chris was fine with that. After all, he was the one who was responsible for finding the clues that they used to solve serial killings.
He was important to the Violent Crimes team, and he needed to ensure that if they needed something done, he could do it.
Honestly, that was the easiest part of his job. It was like second nature, and it didn’t even faze him.
Chris had it good.
His life, as of late, had been pretty damn decent—if he did say so himself.
He had a family who loved him, a daughter who was the apple of his eye, and he also had Elizabeth.
They were close, and for that, he was damn grateful. He had his best friend, and she always had his back.
They were Frick and Frack.
Peanut butter and Jelly.
He’d be lying if he said they weren’t a matched set forged long ago and still strong today. Chris had always been comfortable around her, and with each day, that was only growing.
She completed him.
On some deep level, she was his other half. While they’d burned out sexually, there was always a part of him that would know she’d been the one.
His stupidity had lost her, and for that, he’d always mourn his choices. He’d crossed a line, and Chris had destroyed a good thing with his jealousy and fear.
After that fateful day, when she’d thrown him a surprise party—only to find a woman jerking him off as they made out, it had been questionable that he would ever get her back.
As a girlfriend?
No.
As a wife?
Never.
Chris knew that wasn’t their path.
It couldn’t be.
Elizabeth had moved on, and he had, too, but they still had something amazing.
Better than amazing.
Perfect.
It was like when he watched Elizabeth kneeling on the floor as she painted Cat, Charlie, and Bethe’s toenails, he knew what their connection was supposed to be.
This.
This was their journey, and he’d been grateful that she’d taken it with him. While they had dated, had been lovers, and on the cusp of marriage—well, he’d been—this was their true destination.
She’d been gifted earlier on in his life so later she could mother his child. When Cyra died, fate had already planned this out. Elizabeth was going to fill that role, and he was blessed.
Yes, he’d lost her for himself, but at least he had gained her for his little girl.
Bethe…she had her mother.
It was his ex-girlfriend and his best friend. In his heart, she was still his—not her body, but her love.
Chris was a better man because of her, and he knew it. When he found Cyra, he married her and truly loved her. Chris had tried to recreate that feeling he had with Elizabeth so many years before to find that happiness. He wanted that feeling again, but it never was the same.
With Elizabeth, he never had to fight for it.
Their love just was.
With Cyra, he always felt like he had to earn it, and now he saw why. He’d lost his soulmate years before, and that was on him.
Cyra didn’t complete him.
Elizabeth had all those years ago. That should have been his clue that what they had was solid, but he’d been too jealous, too insecure, and too angry to have faith. Had he, maybe he would be married to her, but because of himself, he lost—or so he thought—the best thing in his life.
Then life happened.
It caught them both off guard.
Now they shared a child.
No, Bethe wasn’t hers biologically, since she was born of another woman, but she was fostered in Elizabeth’s love.
Truth be told, there was no one he trusted more with his child.
Well, that wasn’t true.
He did trust the men he called brothers. Because of Elizabeth, he’d gotten them in the deal too.
They were a package, and it was one he was happy to have. Fate likely saw this, and the universe had provided two good men who would have his back.
With Elizabeth came Ethan, strong, smart, and protective. He loved fiercely, and he was a strong rock to lean on in a storm. The man could withstand anything, and Chris only wished he could be that tenacious.
He wasn’t alone.
Also in the package came Callen. He was funny, protective, and had a gentle soul. He’d been born in the hell of abuse, and come out the other side—stronger. There was nothing he couldn’t withstand, and Chris wanted to be more like that.
He wanted to be more like them both.
They were his role models.
They were who he strived to be when the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
The brothers had opened their arms, welcomed him, and given him a shot, even when they had to be wary of his and Elizabeth’s past.
God knew he’d lost her because of his jealousy, but they had trusted him with the woman they loved.
They let him be part of them.
For that, he was so damn grateful. He needed them in his life, and so did Bethe. His child had easily assimilated into the tribe, and for that, he was so damn grateful.
She called them uncles.
She called them family.
Chris knew that no matter what, he couldn't let her lose that. No matter what, she had to be with the tribe that claimed her as their own. Her little life had been a tumultuous ride
already, and he knew he had to make it better.
She’d almost died that day with her mother.
Bethe had almost perished—and without Wyler’s bravery, she would have burned alive.
That moment had forged them.
Chris knew he owed them all more than he could ever repay them.
The Blackhawks had claimed his little girl as their own, and it was a beautiful thing.
Yesterday, when she’d left for preschool with Charlie, they were both sporting braids and smiles as they held hands on their way out to the limo.
Chris never saw this coming, but he was glad it happened. His daughter had a family, and he was blessed.
His daughter had a sister.
Charlie and Bethe were two peas in the pod, and he knew that one day, she’d likely be so much more than just that.
His daughter followed EJ around like he was the next coming of Christ. His daughter, at that tender age, had a crush on Callen’s son.
And the feeling was mutual. The little Native boy was smitten too. They were always holding hands, and he was always being gentle as he helped her into her chair.
The little Native hellion was super protective of Bethe, and he got that from his father. It was the same protectiveness that Callen had for Elizabeth.
It was a mix of doting and love all wrapped up in one beautiful package.
As a father, it was horrifying and beautiful at the same time.
Horrifying since that was his only child.
Beautiful since they had the sweetness of that love. It was endless, bottomless, and overwhelming.
There was a running bet that they would one day get married, and he didn’t doubt it.
In a way, Chris hoped it came true, even as he didn’t want his little girl to ever grow up. When she’d cuddle with him in bed on a Saturday morning as they watched cartoons, he wanted her to stay that young.
Forever.
But he knew that wouldn’t happen.
Time passed.
It moved swiftly.
He was getting old. Forty-six was around the corner, and he was dreading the midlife crisis that would come. In less than a week, he knew he’d add one more year to the age and one less to the clock.
It was funny how he’d become so acutely aware of how much time he had left in life.
Just yesterday, it seemed that he was a new ME, starting out at the FBI. Just yesterday, he met a woman he fell in love with and they had a life together. Just yesterday, he lost it all because he was insecure.
Still…
Despite it all, he had his family to support him, and that had been enough to fill up part of the hole in his heart. He had his Elizabeth back—if not for him—for her.
That was all that mattered.
So, as his family was still asleep, he kissed his daughter, who was snuggled up with Charlie in her bed and gave the other little girl one too. He shared that same love given to him. Bethe was theirs, and Charlie was his.
As was the rest of their tribe.
He loved them all with everything he had, and he’d die for those kids—willingly.
Elizabeth had been the catalyst, the path, and the way to all this happiness, and he’d repay that with his love and devotion to their tribe.
Yes, their tribe.
He claimed them as much as they claimed him.
That morning, he’d left Fort Whitefox-Blackhawk with the knowledge that he had a home. Bethe was safe, and he could raise his daughter, protected by those walls, and the family.
He was home.
For the first time in the longest time, Chris was at peace. The media didn’t bother him now, and neither did all of their shitty stories of their big orgies.
They knew the truth.
The family was just a family.
He’d realized it that morning as he was heading out. It was peaceful. Callen had already been up, and he was sitting at the kitchen table working on either the upcoming wedding on Valentine’s Day or a new book.
With him, you never knew.
The man was a ‘no sleep’ machine. Chris envied him for that too. As of late, the lack of sleep was killing him. Maybe he was coming down with a cold.
As he headed into the kitchen, Chris hadn’t interrupted him, simply a wave as he grabbed his coffee and headed out.
They’d talk later.
Normally, they’d meet for coffee during the morning hours to reconnect. Before, it had been the three of them, and as of late, he’d been added to that—no doubt by Elizabeth.
It gave him that warm feeling in the pit of his gut.
He belonged too.
That was all he ever really wanted.
Now, it was hours later, and as he stood in his morgue—and it really was his—he made sure his techs had done the job right the night before. They did the preliminary count of all of their supplies, and he was following up.
Doctor Leonard preferred for them to be prepared for everything. There was no room for errors or unwanted surprises in their lives.
They were accountable to the American people, the President of the United States, and Gabe Rothschild.
They were tough bosses if you jacked something up.
Besides, inventory mattered. Chris didn’t doubt that they’d be heading out soon to take care of the little ‘mob’ situation.
It was coming.
He could feel it.
Elizabeth—day and night—was focused on finding that rat bastard, Michael O’Banion. It had become her mission in life.
The US Marshals had hidden him, and she wanted to find him so that they could give the dead peace. There was no doubt that he’d had a mass grave somewhere. In the redacted file that Ethan had received from Marcus Hunter, it stated that was the ONLY thing O’Banion wouldn’t give them.
The marshals were keeping it zipped.
Even after Gabriel Rothschild had threatened him, he wouldn’t share where he’d had Joey ‘The Thug’ and Carl ‘The Knife’ stash all the victims. He was playing dumb, so as not to implicate himself.
Well, that was coming to an end.
Elizabeth Blackhawk was going to find O’Banion, and she was going to make his life a living hell. Once she found those bodies, they were going to work to make sure Michael O’Banion paid.
They might not be able to tie him to the two killers he’d hired, or the deceased Kai Fitzpatrick, but she wanted him to swing for those buried victims.
There was no doubt she’d get her justice too. Elizabeth always did. She was tenacious.
For now, not being able to find him was driving her batshit insane.
So, she was using any and all of the contacts she could to locate the scumbag.
Marcus wouldn't give her his new name, but he gave her the files with all his other crimes.
Later, they were meeting for coffee so they could get down to business. She wanted the bastard nailed to the wall with his crimes, and they were going to help her do it.
She lived for justice.
He loved that about her.
As he counted, rechecked, and got the morgue ready—in case they were working here until the O’Banion thing happened, he took a seat at his desk to enter the reports for Ethan.
They were due in an hour.
He wanted the overall numbers, so he could make sure they were within budgetary constraints for the end of the fiscal year.
Chris normally hated upper management, but with this group, he was glad they worked and played together.
The family, while having to work for it, also played well together as they came down from the rigorous responsibilities of the job.
Ethan and Callen were also his best friends.
Entering the data, from the corner of his eye, he saw something in his ‘IN’ bin.
It hadn’t been there last night as he’d left. Chris had a thing about finishing all his work before going home.
It was a habit.
It was how he ran a tip-top ship.
Now, he already had
work waiting for him, and he couldn’t imagine what it could be.
Taking a break from inventory, he reached over and pulled it out of the bin.
It was an interoffice memo folder.
That wasn’t odd since he got them all the time from other units, other ME’s, and Elizabeth. When they came from her, they normally held a prank of some sort.
She had a sick sense of humor.
Staring down at it, it was marked ‘PRIVATE’, and that piqued his curiosity. He’d only gotten a handful of those over the years, and he didn’t doubt this was a setup.
It had to be from her.
She was up to something, and he was already suspicious. With her, you had to stay on your toes. Elizabeth liked to make her team nuts, and they loved her for it.
Humor was the best medicine in their line of work. If you couldn’t laugh, you were destined to crash and burn.
When he opened the sealed envelope, low and behold, another envelope slid out, and it was addressed to him.
Chris was waiting for the trick until he saw the name of the lab stamped in the corner.
That was the company that did his yearly bloodwork. As of late, thanks to a run in with a dead hooker in New Orleans, he’d had to get it every six months. By law, he was required to keep getting tested since he’d been injured at work.
These were the results.
Clearly.
Yet, he was confused. Normally, they came by email, but not this time.
Maybe they changed procedure.
Still, it was odd.
So, expecting the customary ‘get rechecked again in six months’ letter, he opened it, not even fazed.
Inside, there, indeed, was a letter addressed to him, regarding his latest bloodwork that he’d had two weeks ago. Without concern, he unfolded it.
As he read it, he began getting that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
The bile began rising.
The butterflies fluttered in his gut.
Chris got lightheaded.
This was wrong.
God!
This had to be wrong!
‘Doctor Christopher Leonard,
We are advising you that your blood sample came back with some abnormalities. In it, we found human immunodeficiency virus. We are sorry to advise you, but you’ve contracted HIV from the injury sustained on the job.
Dead are Forgotten Page 2
