Blade (The Alpha Elite #11)

Chapter Forty-Seven

Blade

A lpha stared at me from across his desk.

“Fucking say it,” I demanded. If November knew about Yemen, Alpha knew about Yemen.

“Have a seat.”

With the mood I was in, the only reason I didn’t draw was because this motherfucker had saved my life. That, and I respected Alpha—until right fucking now. You didn’t tell a SEAL to fucking sit before you ripped him a new one.

“You goddamn sit,” I ordered.

Alpha leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. “I received credible intel that your brother’s deceased.”

I fucking sat.

Alpha gave me the rest. “He was KIA, but he wasn’t operating in a Team capacity when it happened. He was recruited to Ground Branch six months before his death. The Op that killed him was one of theirs.”

I didn’t buy it. Church would never leave the Teams for the fucking CIA. Not even for their Special Activities Center paramilitary operations. “His wife?”

“I don’t have any concrete intel that he was married or to whom. But if there was a wife, I’m assuming the Agency or WITSEC relocated her, probably within hours of his death. I’ll make inquiries.”

I looked at my former Team leader. Then I fucking tested him. “Who was it?”

“If I knew, we’d be having a different conversation while we geared up.”

I leaned back in the chair and watched him for tells. Alpha wasn’t lying. Honor was ingrained in him right next to justifiable revenge. He believed the bullshit intel he was spouting. And if he had a name, he was right. We’d already be on one of his G650s.

His honor or the validity of his intel wasn’t why I was gauging him.

Like the Team leader he’d been, like the ruthless Tier One he’d been trained to be, his expression hardened. “You know I’m not dropping it. I’ll keep working my contacts as long as I have to. We’ll get whoever’s behind this. In the meantime, I wanted you apprised of the new information I received.”

“You gonna tell me where it came from?” He wouldn’t, but I still asked.

“I can’t. Though as I said, I believe it’s credible.”

Credible, my ass. “When’d you get it?”

Alpha glanced at his watch. “Nineteen minutes ago.”

He’d texted me eighteen minutes ago. “Who’d you call first?” You could do a lot of shit in one minute.

“I didn’t make any calls, but I had November verify what little intel I had. Church’s name was wiped from TRICARE six months prior to his death. Without drawing attention from Langley, that was all the intel November was able to pull as far as coordinating dates. Additional redacted intel on SAC’s servers corresponds with a WARCOM AAR that stated your brother was pulled from a Teams Op mid-mission.”

“Church never told me.” We fucking shared the important shit.

“You know how SAC operates. He would’ve been instructed not to. No matter how high your clearance went, the Agency would’ve held the intel. No one, including his CO, Team leader, spouse, or any family member would’ve been read in—not even after his death. You also know Church would’ve kept it tight.”

That, I didn’t doubt. My brother was battle born. He’d lived for the mission.

I stood and turned toward the door.

“Blade.”

I glanced back.

“I’m sorry, brother.”

Alpha wasn’t my brother. Church was. Now he was officially dead—according to Alpha.

I still didn’t know what the fuck to believe, but it wasn’t this bullshit.

I knew Church.

If he was in Valhalla, there would’ve been a fucking bloodbath left in his wake.

Tipping my chin at Alpha, I walked out.

I had a crazy chick to find.