Chapter Two
Commander Will Asher paced his office, his scowl deepening. Jack had been vague when he’d called to report in about events in Mexico City. Will didn’t like vague. In fact, it pissed him off. He wanted facts, details. And Jack fucking knew it. Which was what had him worried.
Jack was not only one of his most trusted men, he was Will’s oldest friend. They’d grown up together, their fathers both having served the Alliance and brought their sons up to eventually take the oath as well. Jack knew Will better than anyone else. So if Jack was hiding something from him with a promise of more info when they returned to Chicago, it had to be some serious shit.
A knock on the door brought Will up short. “Enter.” Adam Watanabe strode in and bowed in greeting, then stood at attention directly in front of him—not because Will demanded it but because Adam’s code of honor and sense of duty required it. He was the most disciplined of any Templar Will had ever known, but Will hoped that Adam might eventually feel like he wasn’t just a guest with them in Chicago. Hell, maybe one day the guy would eventually even call him by his name instead of his rank.
“I’ve taken care of the arrangements with Hale’s office for returning Tad Ralston’s body, Commander,” Adam assured him.
Will crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the edge of his desk. “What story are we telling?”
“Wrong place, wrong time,” Adam told him. “Caught in the middle of crossfire between two rival drug dealers while on a business trip to Mexico City. Not entirely untrue.”
Will nodded. “And his remains?”
“They will be sent to his family in Rhode Island,” Adam informed him. “We have already notified his parents and sister.”
“How about Congressman Hale?” Will prompted. “What was his reaction?”
Adam’s mouth curved up at the corner—which was about the most Will had ever seen the man smile. “He was appropriately saddened to learn of the ‘tragic death of a young man who had such a promising career.’” Adam lifted a sardonic brow. “I imagine you will hear the same statement in the press release tomorrow.”
Will’s mouth twisted with disgust. “The bastard probably had a statement prepared before he even got the call.”
At that moment, a man with shaggy, sun-bleached hair and wearing a horribly gaudy Hawaiian shirt, ratty jeans, and well-worn red Chucks sauntered into the office. “Right you are, boss-man.” Elliot “Finn” Finnegan—their tech specialist and resident genius—offered Will his wide, easy grin, a striking contrast to Adam’s formality. “Your third eye is totally rockin’ today, brah.”
“Don’t need a third eye to see bullshit a mile away,” Will assured him. He jerked his chin at the device Finn held. “What’d you find?”
Finn tapped his tablet and then swiped a finger across the surface, throwing an image up onto one of the monitors on Will’s wall. “Congressman Hale sent out an email message to his staff within two minutes of Adam’s call to his office. Another went out to the press immediately after. The messages were already written and waiting in his drafts folder. All he had to do was add a vague statement based on the misinformation Adam provided.”
“They never planned to let Ralston live,” Adam said. “They were going to eliminate him no matter what happened.”
“Where’s the flash drive that Jack was talking about?” Will demanded. When Adam and Finn traded a cautious glance, Will raised his brows. “Well?”
Adam cleared his throat. “Jack said Ralston had already sent the flash drive to a reporter.”
Will frowned. “Okay . . . So who’s the reporter?”
Finn studiously avoided Will’s gaze, pretending to fiddle with his tablet. “Dunno. Sorry, boss.”
What the hell is their problem?“I’ve seen you track tougher shit than this, Finn,” Will insisted. “Finding out where Ralston mailed the package should be cake. Why is this person’s name not already on the screen?”
Finn squirmed a little before explaining, “So, here’s the thing . . . Jack wouldn’t tell us the name of the reporter and told me not to look into it. He said he wanted to talk to you about it personally.”
Will lifted a brow in challenge. “Last time I checked, you reported tome, Elliot.”
Finn winced at Will’s use of his first name, but then dipped his chin slightly. “Uh, yes, sir, I do. And I certainly prefer that to sitting in the federal prison where you found me, trust me. But I figured if Jack was asking me to keep something from you, he had a damned good reason.”
As much as Will hated to admit it, Finn had a point. Will pegged Adam with a pointed look. “How about you? You get the same impression?”
Adam inclined his head slightly. “I have only been among my brothers in Chicago for a short time and am still learning your dynamics, Commander. But I must trust that if one of you wishes to keep something from another, he has a good reason, and it is not my place to interfere.”
Will crossed his arms over his broad chest and heaved a harsh sigh. “What about the photo Ian sent of the Illuminati’s spook? Can you at least give me something there, or is that top secret too?”
Finn swiped his finger over his tablet again. “That I can help with.” He nodded toward another monitor. “Meet Egor Poleski. According to my pals at Interpol, this was one scary dude. Hired muscle for the Russian mob most recently, but was making friends all over Eastern Europe long before that. If it’s nasty and violent, this guy has been accused of it. After his mob employers were taken out when an arms deal went south, he went freelance. I’m guessing that’s how he came to the attention of our Illuminati friends.”
“And his status is confirmed?” Will prompted.
Finn threw another couple of images up on the screen. These appeared to be crime scene photos. Poleski’s body was sprawled out in an alleyway, his eyes vacant, his mouth agape, a bullet hole in the center of his chest and another in the center of his forehead. “Yep. Dead as a doornail.”
