by Linzi Basset
“It’s healing much faster than expected. Within a couple of weeks, there’ll only be the thin scars on the side of your palms and inside of your biceps visible.” Nate Hart turned Alex’s hands over. They were swollen and lacked the usual natural tanned look his skin always had.
“Your back will take a little longer to heal as the skin surface is bigger but I’m very happy with the progress this soon after the operation. You’ll be your old self in no time.”
“Yeah,” Alex stared at his hands and wondered how long the deafening explosion would still wake him up in a sweat. Going back to normal would be good. He looked at Nate. “Does that mean I can go home today?”
Nate chuckled. He’d known Alex since he’d become Governor and was aware of the impatience that scratched at him to get out of the hospital.
“Yes, but only if you promise to come and see me twice a week. I need to make sure the wounds on your face don’t become infected. We don’t want to expound the problem. We need to minimize the chance of scarring, Alex.”
“No problem. You don’t have to worry. Nurse Bea has drilled the cleaning, disinfecting, and do's and don'ts into my brain.”
“We should be able to operate within two months.” Nate studied Alex. “You’re a public figure, Alex. I hope you’re planning to go for counseling.”
“Why? To cope with everyone staring at my grotesque face?” Alex shrugged. “I’m not a vain person, Nate. I’m too fucking old to care what others think, and besides, I’m more concerned about catching the fuckers who caused my injuries and killed one of my best friends to care how my disfigurement may affect others.”
“Don’t say that, Alex. I, for one, refuse to believe that Jack is dead … not until someone can provide confirmation that they found signs of his remains.”
Alex turned at the low voice floating toward him from the doorway. Lance Talbot leaned on a crutch with his fiancé, Lexi Calvert, holding onto his arm. He’d suffered minor burns, a shattered leg, and some serious internal injuries in the blast but was recovering fast. Alex had taken the brunt of the flames as he’d thrown himself over Lance’s body when Jack’s hoarse cry to fall back had echoed in his ears, moments before the bomb went off.
“I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll sign your release papers and then you may go. Take care, Alex.”
Alex smiled at Nate and watched him walk out of the room. He turned his attention back to Lance and Lexi.
“I’m just as hopeful, Lance, and the fact that they haven’t found any trace is the only thing I’m hanging onto. But, if he didn’t die, where the fuck is he?”
Lance walked closer, his confident strides with the crutch proof that he’d been out of the hospital for two weeks already. The fact that his leg was now held together by screws and steel plates was a minor inconvenience. His eyes were shadowed as he stood next to Alex; he stared outside. “I don’t know, but I sure as hell hope and pray those bastards didn’t get to him.”
“Those bastards? What haven’t you been telling me, Lance?” Lexi asked with a frown. The secret Jack had asked her to keep since she’d done a DNA profile on the man who had tried to rape his fiancé, Jordan Clark, had been weighing heavily on her shoulders. The name kept flashing in her mind, and lately, she’d been waking up from nightmares that kept hounding her. What if someone else died and she could've prevented it? If only she knew whether or not Jack had survived. Oh, god, I pray he did!
“The Sixth Order, honey, who else?” He looked at Alex. “I wish I pushed Jack more.”
“What do you mean?” Alex allowed Nurse Bea to assist him into a crisp white shirt. It felt good to wear something other than hospital gowns. The soft cotton smoothed gently over his skin. “Are you saying he had information on the Sixth Order he didn’t share with us?”
“Yes, I got that impression.” Lance shifted his weight. He didn’t want to elaborate. Not in front of Lexi. He had to protect her from the ugliness of the Syndicate. The less she knew, the better. “We’ll discuss this at the next meeting at Precision Secure. But only if you’re up to joining us.”
“I’ll be there. I have some news I wish to share with all of you as well.”
“First, let’s get you home. Your mother arrived yesterday to assist during your recovery.”
“What? You better be kidding, Lance,” Alex growled as he stepped into a pair of Italian loafers. “Fuck, it feels good to wear clothes again.”
“Nope, afraid I’m not.” Lance laughed at the woebegone expression on Alex’s face. “I forgot how demanding your mother can be. She’s got the entire Precision Secure team on pins and needles to find who did this to you.”
“Good Lord. Here I thought I’d recover in the comfort of my own home. Now, it’s going to be worse than this place.”
“I hope I’m not intruding?”
They turned to the guttural voice behind them. Lance smiled at the man walking closer. “Of course not.” He turned to Alex. “I don’t believe you’ve met Michael Flores, Alex. The new owner of Crown International.”
Michael shook Alex’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m happy to see both of you are doing well. I’ve been tardy in checking up on Jack, Lance and you, but I just returned from the UK. I had to smooth out a couple of problems over there. I only heard about what had happened yesterday when Jack didn’t arrive for a meeting.” He looked around. “Where is he? I can’t get hold of him on his cell. I thought I’d find him here, but Governor White is the only remaining patient they referred me to at the reception desk.”
“Jack is … we don’t know where he is. He disappeared with the explosion.”
Michael stared at Lance, his eyes widened at the grief he noticed in his eyes. “Are you saying … is he … did he die?”
“We choose to believe he didn’t. At least not until we receive confirmation that they found a trace of his remains in the rubble.”
Michael stroked his chin as he regarded the two men. “It’s been what … three weeks?”
“Four to the exact day.”
“And they’re still searching the site? According to reports on the internet, it happened during a wedding reception at his house, is that correct?”
“Yes.” Lance looked defeated. He had been holding onto a thin thread of hope, but with days turning into weeks, he too had begun to realize they might have to face the inevitable. “Precision Secure has launched an intense mission to find him as well as the bastards responsible. Forensics have managed to identify the signature of the bomb. It was the kind predominantly used by the Sixth Order.”
Michael shifted his weight and avoided Alex’s direct stare. He had been watching him quietly since he’d arrived. “This just strengthens my resolve to ensure Crown International cuts all ties with the bastards. Are you still up to assisting me, Lance?”
“Yes. Max and Richard managed to uncover the information I asked for in regard to certain staff members. I’ll set up a meeting with you tomorrow. We need to set a plan into motion.”
“One that will involve the entire Precision Secure team, Lance. This time no one is going at it alone. Set up the meeting at the office once we’re back. It’s time we all become involved with Michael and Crown International. Something tells me that’s what Jack had intended—to use the company as a trap for those fuckers.”
“I believe you’re right, Governor,” Michael agreed. He turned to leave. “Let me know when and I’ll be there. I’m glad both of you are on the mend.”
Alex waited until he disappeared down the hallway before he turned to Lance. “You didn’t trust Flores before. Do you still have doubts?”
Lance returned Alex’s scrutiny with an intense stare. “Just asking the question tells me you have a bad feeling about the man.”
“Not necessarily bad but … I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something about him.” He glanced toward the hallway again. “I think you need to keep close to him. Just in case he can lead us in the right direction.”
“I’ll go into
the office after we drop you at home to bring the team up to speed. For now, you need to go and—”
“If you utter that fucking word, I’m gonna lose it. I’ve had more than enough of loitering about in this goddamned square little room with nothing but a bed and a chair to choose from. I’ll recover quicker if I keep busy.”
“But Alex, you know your wounds—”
“I’m a big boy, Lexi, I can take care of myself. I have no intention of being stupid, so stop worrying. I’ll be careful not to pick up any infection on the wounds in my face. We have work to do and I intend to be at the front of the pack when we catch those motherfuckers.”
“I’m sure you do, Alex but I have to stress—”
“Stop, honey,” Lance said with a chuckle as Lexi refused to budge from in front of Alex. “Alex already has his mother to contend with. Besides, if you need to cluck over anyone, I’m more than happy to be your victim.”
“Like you’ve been any easier to keep still long enough for your body to heal properly,” she scoffed.
Lance leaned in to kiss her tenderly. “I love that you care so much, my love, but recuperating can wait until after we have disintegrated the Sixth Order completely.”
“At least we managed to dismantle the main operation’s hub in Manhattan. It was a step in the right direction.” Another tip Alex had received which had allowed the Precision Secure team the advantage to capture all the operatives manning the technology and cyber hub of the Sixth Order. If not for that information, they would still be floundering around in the dark. At least now they had some leverage.
“A big one. Even if they had a way to recover the files we deleted from their servers, it definitely set them back. At least it gives us time to work through their data folders. Max and Richard are compiling a dossier on all the key aspects and connections as they decrypt each file. We’ll have a full report at the meeting.”
“Good and make it soon, Lance. We can’t afford to give them even the slightest gap. They’ve already had four weeks since the explosion. We need to act on the information we have and quickly. If we can start shutting down their operations all over the U.S.―even if it’s one by one, we’re winning.”
Chapter Three
“Fucking bastards,” Michael Flores cursed as he got into the rented Ford Explorer. His hand hit the steering wheel with a dull thump.
The explosion at Jack Blackmore’s house had been a warning directed at him. To prove how easy it was for the Sixth Order to get their scaly tentacles inside even the most secure event.
“But you fucked up, Zee. You depended on wiping me off the face of the earth at the same time.” He snorted. “Pity your plan failed—for you and Dexter Powell at least—because now I’m more adamant than ever to bring you down. Your days are numbered. Mark my words, the noose is going to start tightening bit by bit until you can’t choke out a breath and then I’ll loosen it to give you a breather, a dash of hope, only to snatch it so tight your eyes will bulge from their sockets.” He cranked the engine and eased the SUV out of the parking area and headed toward the freeway. “You just sealed your own fate, Zee. That bomb could’ve killed every single one at that wedding reception, which proves how cruel and decrepit you are. You won’t die quickly. Oh, no. It’s going to be a long and painful death … especially for you, you fucking traitor!”
Michael knew that Zee and Powell had left Washington DC directly after the explosion. It suited him … for now. It offered him the opportunity to streamline the personnel at Crown International and bring in the team he’d selected to assist him to ensure his dealings with the Sixth Order remained undetected. He didn’t trust either of them as far as he could throw them, and he had no doubt they felt the same about him, hence the explosion.
“Unfortunately for you, I’m here to stay … at least until I can wipe the fucking earth with your remains. You’ll pay for what you did to Gideon Clark and Jordan. If it wasn’t for the opportunity to purchase Crown International, I would never have been able to get this close to you. And believe me, you’re not going to shake me off easily … fuck that. You won’t get rid of me. Period!”
His eyes fell on the brown manila envelope on the passenger seat. It was one of the documents he’d found in Jack’s briefcase that he’d left at the office the last time he’d been there. It offered proof that Dexter Powell had been there during Gideon’s torture and that he had been the one attempting to rape Jordan Clark.
“Fuck!” He slammed on the brakes as he turned into an underground parking garage in Chantilly to swap the Explorer for a Land Rover—a precaution in case he was being tracked. “She’s in danger. I should’ve realized it off the bat. If she mentions these results to anyone … shit! How do I approach her and warn her to keep her mouth shut without her running to Lance?”
He pulled out the document and stared at the bold and confident signature at the bottom of the report. Lexi Calvert, the chief medical examiner, had done a secret DNA profile for Jack after Jordan’s attempted rape. If Powell or Zee got even the slightest whiff of her involvement, she was a dead woman.
“Collateral damage, Flores. Remember that. You were taught not to care during your Black Ops training.” He closed his eyes. “Not this time … Gideon and Jordan didn’t deserve what had happened to them and Lexi for helping Jack even less. I’ll just have to find a way.”
He was pensive as he continued toward Upperville, Virginia. Jack had invited him to stay on his Ayrshire Farm for as long as he needed. Michael didn’t think anyone would mind if he continued to do so. It offered him the perfect hiding place, not to mention access to the armory of weapons he’d found in a secure bunker under the barn.
By the time he arrived in Upperville, he’d swapped the Land Rover again in Aldie for a rusty old GMC truck. He blended in perfectly, assured that no one had followed him.
It was time to set his carefully laid out plans into action.
“Are you telling me they, whoever the fuck they are, now have access to all our data? Including the list of our contacts in the Government, FBI, CIA, and DOJ?”
Mr. Zee was livid as he paced the luxury of his study. He didn’t stop to appreciate the gorgeous view of the ocean that sparkled through the wall of windows. It felt like a large hand clamped around his chest, tightening its hold with each passing minute. He dragged in a deep breath. He had to remain calm. To fall apart would mean the end of the Sixth Order’s reign in the US. The end of him! His life would be over and he’d be damned if he allowed that to happen. He’d worked too hard and given up too much to achieve success as a mighty crime lord to lose his status now.
“Come now, Zee, why pretend? We both know it’s Rhone Greer and his team who raided the Massage Parlor. No one but Max Shaw would’ve been able to hack into our secure server that quickly.”
“Because once I acknowledge it, my wrath would know no boundaries, and I might act impulsively.”
“Like you did with that bomb that killed Jack?” Dexter Powell’s mouth flattened. He was still angry that Zee had stolen his desire to be the one to end Jack Blackmore’s lousy life from him. The anger boiled higher as Zee shrugged and snorted negligently. “That hadn’t been part of the plan, Zee. All you did was open another door for those bastards to track us down. Apart from Jack, Lance and Alex almost died as well. Fuck! It could’ve killed everyone there … us included. Or did you happen to forget about that little fact?”
“Stop being such a fucking drama queen. I made sure we were out of the blast backlash. Yeah, we got some injuries but the burns already healed. If Alex and Lance didn’t make it, it would’ve been two less we have to worry about. Or did you forget our end goal, buddy?”
“No, I haven’t but you seemed to have forgotten why we planted the bomb in the first place—to send a warning to Michael Flores.”
“And I’m confident he got the message.”
“Fucking unbelievable! You won’t even acknowledge that you lied to me.”
Zee ignored Dexter and stopped at
the bar cart in the corner of the room to pour himself a stiff drink.
“I didn’t lie to you.” He took a long sip of the drink as he stared out to sea. The surface this time of day was mirror-like with only the slightest rippling disturbance.
“You neglected to inform me that the bomb had triple the impact we agreed upon. What the fuck for, Zee? You had a different agenda and you totally fucked it up. You’ve planted a red flag that points directly at us.”
Zee spun around. “I don’t need to explain what and why I do anything. You seem to forget that if it wasn’t for me, none of this would ever have been possible.” He waved his hand to encompass the luxury around them. “I’m the one who got us here and don’t you ever forget that.”
“Yeah, like you would ever allow me to.” Dexter poured himself a drink and swallowed it down. “But don’t forget that without me, you wouldn’t have achieved half of this either. It was never a one-man operation. We build this empire together. The Sixth Order is us. You and me. Don’t you ever forget that.”
Zee swiped a hand over his eyes. He studied his partner and best friend. He understood his rage and in retrospect realized he shouldn’t have taken his need to end Jack Blackmore’s life from him, but the opportunity had been too good to pass up. When he’d watched Jack disappear into the house, all he could think of was the rush of adrenaline and how good it would feel to be the one to end his meddling life. He’d already activated the bomb with the burner phone in his pocket by the time he realized Alex and Lance were following behind him. It had been too late to stop it … and he didn’t want to. Everyone who sided with Rhone Greer needed to be destroyed.
The success and survival of the Sixth Order depended on that.
“I know.” He shook his head. “They’re doing it again, buddy. Coming between us. We’re better than this. We shouldn’t be fighting over those fucking bastards. We should be concentrating on preserving our secret identities and the success of the Organization.”
