Down and Dirty (Scions of Sin Book 3)

by Taylor Holloway

  ZOEY ATKINSON: What was Project Winterspring?

  RICHARD DURANT: Project Winterspring was the original contract that eventually became the chemical weapons program. At the outset it was intended as a water desalination pilot project that the defense department farmed out to us. It wasn’t until later that its mission shifted.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: And by shifted, you mean what?

  RICHARD DURANT: Skylark took the original budget and then funneled it into a chemical weapon testing and production facility.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: How was Skylark able to do that without your knowledge?

  RICHARD DURANT: Like I mentioned, Skylark administered the contract. We owned everything, but they managed it.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: And you didn’t inspect or regularly audit the facility? I’m just trying to figure out how it took three years for you to figure it out.

  RICHARD DURANT: I—well, there isn’t a great explanation. We should have had stricter oversight. Since Skylark is a government contractor and Durant Industries is a government contractor, the obligation for audit and oversight was technically with the US government. Obviously, that doesn’t excuse the fact we didn’t know, but it does explain it.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: I see. What happened when you did find out? Why wasn’t the facility closed immediately?

  RICHARD DURANT: By the time I found out, we’d already been producing the weapons for three years. As was explained to me by Tom [Ellis] and Ryan [Quin], the weapons that were coming out of the Durant Industries facility may be needed by the US government in highly classified, covert missions. I was told by Tom that the facility had become essential to US security and could not be closed.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: Was any of this information provided to you in writing? How did you know it was true?

  RICHARD DURANT: I wasn’t about to question Tom too deeply on how he knew what he knew. I trusted that he had our best interests at heart.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: Even though you knew that chemical weapons are illegal, and the US has publicly committed to never use them?

  RICHARD DURANT: Tom told me that Durant Industries had a patriotic duty not to interfere in this. I thought the US government was fully aware of what we were doing. It wasn’t until later that I learned this wasn’t the case.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: And when was that?

  RICHARD DURANT: Just after September 11, 2001. Durant Industries was part of a number of industry leaders who participated in a summit at the White House to discuss national security. It was prior to that summit when Tom told me that Project Winterspring was clandestine even to the President. He told me that it was an off the books project that was known only to a select group of Pentagon officials.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: You had an opportunity to directly tell the President about the chemical weapons program your company was involved with and chose not to?

  RICHARD DURANT: Yes. But it wasn’t as simple as just choosing not to tell him.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: How so?

  RICHARD DURANT: By late 2001, Durant Industries had been making chemical weapons for years. Not only were we now culpable as a company, but Tom also made it clear to me that he would ensure that Durant Industries bore full responsibility for any fallout. He was politer than this, of course, but he made it clear to me that if I were to say anything, it would bankrupt Durant Industries and I would go to jail.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: Senator Ellis threatened you with jail time?

  RICHARD DURANT: In a veiled way. Ryan [Quin] was more candid. That was how they worked. Ryan worked for Tom and would say the things that Tom didn’t want to. It only got worse as time went on.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: What got worse?

  RICHARD DURANT: The threats. You see, I attempted to scale back Project Winterspring several times by circumspect means. Every time I took any activity that so much as touched on project Winterspring I would get a visit from Ryan. We used to be friends, and we still sort-of were, but he became increasingly threatening as time went on.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: In what way?

  RICHARD DURANT: According to Ryan when he was feeling particularly candid, Tom had gotten in over his head with his shady friends at the Pentagon. They wanted more weapons and to keep the supply of what they did have stable. They had a good thing going. And they were willing to do whatever it took—through Skylark—to keep it going.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: Meaning they would kill you if you blew the whistle?

  RICHARD DURANT: That was how I interpreted it, yes. And when Nicholas found out about everything I learned just how right I’d been to be cautious.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: Tell me about that.

  RICHARD DURANT: A number of years later, when Nicholas was overseeing the Operations Group at Durant Industries, he stumbled upon Project Winterspring. He tried to put it on the board agenda, which tipped off Tom. Tom called me and told me to ‘shut my son up or he would shut him up’. Nicholas went into hiding rather than shut up. That’s where he’s been until now.

  ZOEY ATKINSON: What do you think will happen now that the public knows about this?

  RICHARD DURANT: Honestly? I have no clue. I suppose I’ll go to jail for my part in it. I’m alright with that. I just hope that Durant Industries survives, the innocent people in this are protected, and the truth comes out. Tom and Ryan have killed innocent people to protect this secret. Other people’s lives have been ruined. And dangerous weapons that shouldn’t exist are out there in the world. The dirty, guilty parties don’t deserve to walk free. And yes, I know that means me too. It’s time to stop hiding and start telling the truth.

  43

  Jenna

  “I can’t believe you never went on a cruise,” my mom admonished me when she met me at the hospital. “You lied to me! And now this. I swear I’ve aged more this week than in the past five years combined. This has all been completely crazy.”

  The fact that my white lie about going on a Caribbean cruise was what concerned her most made me shake my head in disbelief. We’d been over this several times on the phone, but she was clearly still working her way through it. I couldn’t blame her. The whole business was beyond bizarre.

  “I’m really sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth,” I told her, wrapping my arms around her in a long hug, “I missed you so much. I didn’t want you to be in danger.”

  My response seemed to mollify her somewhat.

  “Where’s Nicholas?” She asked me next, looking around the waiting room like he’d be sitting here with his gunshot wound.

  “They’re finishing up with him right now,” I told her, “The FBI, I mean. Not the doctors. The doctors already worked on him. He was really lucky.”

  “He’s not going to stay here longer?” My mom asked. I shook my head and smiled.

  “Thank god, no,” I replied, “he had what they called a ‘through and through’. Apparently, the bullet went straight through one side of his palm and came right out the other without hitting any major bones, arteries, muscles or anything. He had bleeding, but once they patch him up and he heals, he’s going to be as good as new. They say his hand will even work normally after some physical therapy. It’s like a miracle. He was shot at really close range. He so easily could have died.”

  I was still in awe of both Nicholas’ luck and the amazing power of modern medicine. He’d been unbelievably fortunate, but instant medical care also played a huge part in him being able to go home only twenty-four hours after being shot. The one good thing about hospitals in the Philadelphia area is that gun violence is so prolific here that our doctors and nurses in the emergency department are some of the very best in the world at patching up trauma victims. There had been some discussion about amputating his hand early on, but they were able to work some magic and save it.

  “What about the guy that shot him? I saw on the news that he’d been rushed to emergency surgery as well. Did he get shot by the FBI?” My mom asked with a frown. “It’s really too bad he didn’t just die.”

  My mom was a forgiving, kind person most of the time, but
the way that Skylark had been messing with me had clearly brought out the mother bear in her. She looked genuinely disappointed that Ryan Quin was still alive.

  Merely thinking about Ryan Quin ought to have made me angry, although the fact that he nearly had his entire face ripped off by Harley went a long way in transmuting my rage into something more like pity. He had not looked good when they wheeled him out of that safe house. Maybe they’d be able to sew it back on. He’d put a lot of money into the cosmetic work on face.

  “No,” I replied with a cruel smirk, “he didn’t get shot. He got mauled. Harley didn’t like seeing Nicholas get shot. She went ape shit on Ryan.”

  Down by my side, Harley heard her name and looked up at me happily. She may have just ripped off a face, but as soon as the danger was gone she reverted right back to her usual, goofy self.

  “Language!” My mom snapped, but her face softened when I raised an eyebrow at her. “I suppose given the circumstances it’s not unwarranted,” she admitted and then added, “fuck that guy.”

  I gasped in disbelief and my mom hugged me again. She smelled like gardenias.

  “Who mauled the bad guy?” my mom asked Harley in a baby-talk voice. “Yes, it was you. It was you. You’re a good girl.” Harley leaned against my mom’s legs contentedly.

  I’d never once in my life heard my mom say the “f word” or congratulate a dog for attacking a person. This was a day for discoveries.

  “I’m so glad you’re alright, Jenna,” she told me, “Nicholas seems like a very nice man, but his life is a little bit more exciting than I’d prefer. Why couldn’t you have met a nice lawyer or something? Someone with a regular schedule that doesn’t involve getting shot.”

  I shook my head at her powers of understatement.

  “I don’t think he’s been enjoying how exciting things have been lately, mom,” I said, “this isn’t exactly a normal week for him, either. After all of this blows over, we really are going to go on a cruise though. Somewhere nice and relaxing. With sandy beaches and drinks with little umbrellas in them.”

  The thought of relaxing in the sun next to Nicholas and sipping a daiquiri was just about all that was keeping me going right now. The past twenty-four hours had been pure, undiluted awfulness. Even though Nicholas was going to be fine, seeing him getting rolled around on gurneys in a hospital and poked by a million doctors had filled me with a helpless fear that was almost as bad as watching Ryan threaten Oliver with a gun.

  “Did I tell you I got fired?” I asked my mom while we waited for Nicholas to finally be rolled to the reception area of the hospital so we could all leave, “because I did. I got fired.”

  My mom looked at me and then gave a little surprised laugh.

  “Given the circumstances, that probably isn’t the worst outcome,” she said. She patted my arm comfortingly. “You’ll find another job—preferably one that doesn’t result in you having to hide out from criminals or interact with the FBI. I know you think I’m overprotective all the time, but this time I’m right and you need to listen to me.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with that. The thought of finding another job had been floating through my brain ever since I was so abruptly dismissed from Durant Industries. Now that Richard, Ryan, and Tom Ellis had all been arrested, the prospect of regaining gainful employment was getting to be less of an abstraction and more of a necessity.

  Musing about my protracted unemployment would have to wait, however, because a tired looking nurse pushed open the door just then and wheeled Nicholas out. He tried to get up out of the wheelchair as soon as he saw me, mom, and Harley, but the nurse pushed his shoulder down.

  “Sorry, but you need to stay in the wheelchair until we get you out the front door,” I heard her tell him when he looked up at her in irritation. “Liability you know? The hospital doesn’t want you to sue us for injuring you.”

  “But you just saved my life from a gunshot wound,” he complained, “what am I going to do, slip and break my neck?”

  She rolled her eyes at him in a profound expression of not-giving-a-shit.

  “I don’t make the rules, I just follow them,” she said, keeping her grip on his shoulders to keep him from rising, “now stay put in the chair.”

  He flopped back with a big frown, but it disappeared when I got close enough to swoop down and put a kiss on his unshaven cheek.

  “Ready to go home?” I asked, looking sadly at the sling keeping his bandaged left hand stationary.

  “Of course he’s ready to go home,” my mom interjected, kissing Nicholas on the other cheek in a very motherly way that caused him to freeze in shock, “He’s been poked and prodded by every doctor in the city and then probably questioned by the FBI,” she continued, pushing him out of the waiting room and simultaneously staring the nurse down until she melted off into the background. “I left the car right outside dear. Let’s get you out of here, sweetheart,” she told him, “I don’t want to hear another word out of you, Nicholas. You need to rest and let Jenna and I take care of you until you’re recuperated.”

  Nicholas looked up at me with a surprised but pleased look that said he was perfectly happy to let himself be doted over. He’d probably never experienced the sort of care he was in for from the Masters family women. Between my mom, me, and Harley, Nicholas was going to be taken care of and lavished with attention within an inch of his life.

  44

  Nicholas

  My father was in jail, but I was pretty much in heaven. I was watching basketball, Jenna’s mom had left us something she baked that smelled freaking amazing, Harley was laying in her dog bed right next to me, and Jenna was snuggled up under my arm fast asleep. Despite the fact that my left hand would probably never have the same level of dexterity that it had pre-bullet, I couldn’t think of a better outcome.

  When the shit went down with Ryan, the news media had gotten wind of it almost immediately and had predictably misreported that I’d received life-threatening injuries. My father had seen the reports and experienced what I can only describe as a change of heart. Considering that I hadn’t thought it possible, the fact that my father revealed that he not only possessed a heart, but that it was capable of feeling had been as shocking as any other revelation that I’d experienced lately. He flew home and turned himself in.

  A text from Oliver interrupted the basketball game I was trying to enjoy.

  I’m knocking on the door. Are you in there?

  I guess I had the volume up too high. Reluctantly, I extricated myself from my couch-nest and left Jenna asleep to answer the door.

  “You look like shit,” Oliver told me when he saw my sling, unshaven appearance, and pajamas.

  “Nice to see you too,” I replied with a smirk, accepting the awkwardly delivered hug from Oliver and then leading him into Jenna’s apartment.

  “Did you talk to Salvador this morning?” Oliver asked, helping himself to a beer.

  “Yeah, before I left the hospital,” I answered, “Did you know his first name in Elvis? That guy is such a badass. Anyway, Elvis Salvador told me that my dad turned himself in after giving Zoey Atkinson an exclusive tell-all interview. I can hardly believe it. After everything else, it was the idea that Skylark was going to get away with it and pin the weapons program totally on Durant Industries that finally tipped him over.”

  Oliver raised an eyebrow.

  “I think it was the fact that Ryan tried to murder all three of us to keep us from implicating Tom Ellis that was actually what changed his mind,” he replied, “I think the fact that his son got shot and almost killed changed his mind. You could give him a little bit of credit. He wasn’t willing to hide forever when he could help, even though he’s probably going to go to jail.”

  I shook my head in confusion.

  “He just knew there would be a stronger case against Ellis if he was willing to testify,” I argued, “I don’t think he wanted to risk Ellis getting off. Ryan would never flip on Ellis, and from what it sounds like, Skylark was s
et up to keep Ellis free of any liability. You, me, and Jenna didn’t even realize he was involved.”

  “You don’t want to admit that he might have some shred of a conscience, do you?” Oliver questioned.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I’ll concede it happily if you can produce some evidence of the fact,” I answered, “but I can explain his actions just as plausibly by assuming he was motivated by revenge as by morality. He didn’t want Ellis to get away with everything.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t matter what motivated Richard into doing what he did,” Oliver said lightly, watching me carefully through his glasses. “Maybe the only thing that matters is that the guilty parties will be held accountable. Richard’s testimony and the records he helped produce will ensure that Tom Ellis goes to jail.”

  “I can agree with that,” I admitted, “I’m not trying to say my dad didn’t spontaneously develop a conscience. I just wish he’d have done it before Theresa got murdered.”

  Oliver didn’t have a response to that, but he tilted his head in agreement. He took a drink of his beer and we lapsed into a companionable silence.

  “Did you read the interview?” He finally asked.

  “Yep,” I replied, pointing to the tablet sitting on the kitchen island. “I read it about fifty times.”

  “This is going to change everything for Durant Industries,” Oliver remarked.

  I shrugged.

  “Whatever the consequences are for Durant Industries, I trust the board will figure out how to deal with it,” I replied lightly. I really couldn’t care less.

  “The Board met this afternoon,” Oliver continued. “They selected an interim CEO.”

  That was quick. I hadn’t figured they would react yet. Alexander II couldn’t be doing well with the knowledge of what his brother had been up to. They’d been roommates and best friends for their entire lives. I doubt that Alexander thought Richard had any secrets from him. Perhaps Nathan had insisted that something be done to get out ahead of the scandal. Still, the drama at Durant Industries was none of my concern anymore.