“This is the work wing.” Dakota stopped. “My office.”
Greystone stopped at a doorway, peered inside at a desk, an executive chair, two guest chairs.
“Simple,” Greystone said. “Gotta love that.”
“If the building was breached, we can’t put anyone at risk,” Dakota explained. “There’s nothing here that could ID us.”
They continued walking.
“Offices in this wing. A break room, two conference rooms, a locker room.” Dakota continued down the hallway, turning left. “This is the residential wing.”
Greystone walked past a large rec room with upscale furniture, a bookshelf filled with books and games, a billiard table, ping pong, a wall-mounted television.
“There are several private suites with bathrooms,” Dakota continued as he paused in front of one.
Next, Greystone was shown the surgery center and recovery room.
“Our mini hospital wing,” Dakota explained. “We’ve had emergency surgeries here more times than I can count. If someone gets shot, and it’s not life-threatening, we’ve got an on-call surgeon and nurse.”
Greystone nodded.
Dakota smiled. “You’ve gotta meet my daughter, Sammy. She does not stop talking… ever. Providence and I have heard her talking in her sleep. And I don’t mean a few words, we’ve heard full-on conversations.”
“She sounds adorable.”
“You’d just have to show up. She’d get busy with your hair, which is almost as long as hers, and she’d talk to you for hours. You wouldn’t have to say a word. We’ll have you over for dinner. You’ll see.”
“Sounds good.”
Dakota took him outside. “This is where Rebel’s rescue team trains. We’ve got a helo, piloted by Nicholas Hawk.”
With the tour over, they circled back to the break room. Dakota tossed him a bottle of water, heated one of the coffees he brought, and the two men continued on to the conference room. Dakota pulled up a chair, Greystone sat across from him.
“Tell me about BLACK OPS,” Greystone said.
“BLACK OPS is a top-secret organization that falls under ALPHA. Years ago, ALPHA was created by two agents from the Bureau to go after the country’s most wanted criminals and remove them from society when all other methods had failed.”
“Take them out?”
“A lot of times the group makes an arrest, but we’ve completed our share of eliminations.” Dakota sipped the hot drink. “BLACK OPS is a much newer group that I run. It’s a collaboration with the Bureau and the Agency. Since the CIA doesn’t operate in the US?—”
“You don’t believe that, do you?” Greystone cracked open the lid, chugged down some water.
“I assume there are intelligence officers stationed here, but that’s not discussed with me.” Dakota sipped the coffee. “Recently, three men formed an alliance called the Trinity. Three powerful DC players. My twin, Sinclair Develin. Your cousin, Carrera Santini from the Bureau, and your brother, Luciano Santini.”
That got his full attention. “My brother runs a design company in DC and owns wineries in Italy.”
“He’s also an assassin,” Dakota explained.
Greystone hitched a brow.
“You don’t look surprised.”
Nowadays, very little surprised Greystone.
“Luciano goes after career criminals federal law enforcement can’t touch, but the job you’ve been called back to do is dead-center in your wheelhouse,” Dakota said.
“Haqazzii.”
