“We did say that but the truth is, your clone-like good looks,” smirked Gator, “may help us. We’re going to send the whole Jordan clan.”
“What?” they echoed.
“Yep,” smirked Jak. “Christopher, Patrick, Wes, Marc, Quinn, Finn, River, and Cole. Brooks and Mitchell aren’t available.”
“I’m available,” said Angel.
“Angel, we appreciate it but the scar gives you away. I mean, you look just like them but he won’t be confused by you. Besides, you’re retired. Remember?”
“I remember,” he frowned.
“The eight of you will join Moose, U-Jin, Sebastian, Leif, and Mike. We’re not going to rush into this meeting. We want to know where this bastard is and what his plans are. That takes time so I need for you all to be patient,” said Ham. “As per usual, you’ll arrive on our aircraft at a private air strip. From there, you’ll head to a suite of rooms reserved under a dummy corporation. Just be patient.”
The men stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. He just chuckled, shaking his head.
“Okay, okay,tryto have a little patience. Just this once. Wait until we know we have everything in order,” said Ham.
“How far up is this shit going?” asked River. “I mean, we know that the deputy director was in on it but who else? Someone is trying to sell us out. Now, we know we’ve pissed off a few people but at least this time it doesn’t feel like it’s the POTUS or he wouldn’t have sent home Quinn and Finnegan.”
“That’s true,” nodded Jak. “We’re fairly certain that he was genuinely concerned for their safety considering all that’s happening. We’re currently looking into the background of your teammates.”
“Our teammates?” said the triplets in unison staring at one another.
“We’re half of the team,” said Quinn. “It’s literally the three of us and three other guys.”
“Yes, and those three other guys knew who you were,” said Gator. “We need to know if they told anyone else who you are.”
“I trust them,” said River. “We trust them but we understand why you would want to look into them.”
“That does count,” said Ham. “Trusting your teammates is the only thing that saves our asses. Morris’ aim here is not only to get revenge for the death of his father but also to expose all of us. If we’re not in the background any longer, he’s free to walk about and do as he likes.”
Garr and Sor walked in with two large, heavy-duty containers. The lids were secured with zip ties, ensuring that they had not been tampered with.
“What the hell is that?” asked Gator.
“We followed a hunch,” said Garr. “Paul Marciella was a great agent. Cautious, careful, and hyper-protective of his daughter. He wasn’t a stupid man. Yes, he gave that necklace to his daughter for safe-keeping, thereby exposing her to danger but there had to be more, so we went looking for it.”
“When he died, Priscilla was his only living relative. Everything went to her. Furniture, life insurance, all of it. The furniture was old and she only kept a few pieces that were important to her. But in the list of articles from the attorney, there was no mention of any paper files anywhere. Nothing.”
“He was cautious, as you said. I wouldn’t leave paper files either,” said Ham, shrugging.
“No, he was smart. It took us a while but we finally found these. Marciella is an Italian name and Paul Marciella was very, very Italian. Connected to a few families on the east coast,” said Sor.
“Oh, shit don’t tell me that,” said Jak.
“No. No, it’s not bad. It’s good. They provided him with information of incoming shipments of drugs, weapons, terrorists, all of it. They owned the east coast ports and were more than happy to help their cousin out,” said Sor. “In fact, they were so happy to help they had a storage unit in Philly that held these two bins.”
“Why didn’t they give them to Priscilla?” asked Gator.
“Because Priscilla had no clue her father was mingling with the mob.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Honey, we don’t think he was mingling with the mob,” said Sor.
“That’s what it sounds like to me. Secret storage facilities, information being fed to them by men who owned the docks. I’m a federal agent. I think I know organized crime when I see it.”
“It wasn’t like that,” said Garr. “We spoke to a man by the name of Tony Carliotta. He was a good friend of your father’s. He said that your father didn’t trust the bureaus filing systems, both the old school kind and the new kind. He wanted a safer place to put everything.”
