Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Rhett
My instincts are at war with logic. The alpha in me wants to drag my mate into a den where no fucker can touch her. The hacker in me knows my brother is right.
There are no safe places nor perfect plans. My head pounds with the weight of it.
I think about Lucian’s mate, about how I failed her… about how she was taken on my watch… my agoraphobia is gnawing at me like a parasite.
What kind of mate does that make me? Not enough. Never enough.
Still, I know who’s at this table. Lucian has my back. Jordan and Kade, too, even if I’ve been an asshole in the past.
Ethan? I’d still strangle the bastard for how he treated Larissa, but for her sake, I’ll set it aside.
Woodrow’s a power broker running black ops. I heard he retired. Clearly not. I don’t trust his motives. But, for now, his goals align with mine.
And finally, Zeb. Zetas are an enigma. But I’ve seen his name in chatter and classified files. All successes, no failures. He unsettles me most, but if anyone can take point on this, it’s him.
I want Larissa to be safe. Fuck, she deserves better than me. But she’s mine, and keeping her alive is all that matters.
I’m used to pressure, endless nights manipulating systems like a game. From the outside, looking in. Detached. But this time I’m in the thick of it. And the stakes have never been higher.
We thrash out options. Cohen is too close, and I can feel Larissa’s anxiety climbing via the bond. I keep her on my lap, trying to maintain my purr, to keep my own emotions in check. Not always successfully.
But the fight we’re facing isn’t only physical; the hacker in me can offer a different kind of edge.
“I need to do my thing,” I say.
Silence.
It’s not like anyone is confused about who I am or what I do.
By rights, Woodrow should have my ass arrested…
along with Lucian. But the real world is corrupt, and authorities are rarely as virtuous as they portray.
Behind closed doors, they make deals with criminals and hackers, if necessary, and if those deals deliver results that support their greater objective.
My brother’s lips twitch.
That’s my baby brother. A fucking animal with code. Bet Woodrow wishes he had someone like that in his pocket. Good luck trying to lock him down after this shit is over. That gecko sanctuary is always looking for fresh funds.
Damn. Did I just read that in his mind? He’s… proud of me. Shit, this stuff is freaking me out. I need to be careful.
I stand, put Larissa down next to me, and take her hand in mine. Can’t think straight if she’s not close. “I wouldn’t normally allow this. But, given the situation, do you want to watch?”
“Fuck yes, I want to see this,” Woodrow says, making me smile at his candid display of eagerness. “Lead the way.”
The hum of the servers greets me. Outside of this room, I’m a faulty human, but here those faults don’t matter. I take my seat, drop her onto my lap, then slide my chair up to the console and get to work.
The people gathering around to watch fade away as I open backdoors I planted years ago, cross-referencing government watchlists and criminal networks.
“Talk to me through this,” Woodrow says from behind me.
“Cohen definitely had help. Public security camera footage was deleted, but my systems automatically back up where there are anomalies. A cargo van with tinted windows, clearance scrubbed, plates voided. Professional.” I slide the image onto the main viewer.
“Someone was hacking the system,” Larissa says quietly. “Like you do.”
“Exactly,” I say. “Someone was paid to make all traces of him disappear."
“How the hell do you have this?” Woodrow says, gesturing at the screen.
I grin. “You’re not really expecting me to give up my secrets here?”
He mutters something I don’t quite catch.
I’m busy, diving deep, following a thread that someone tried to erase. I tap into Chimera’s civilian comms grid, rerouting through proxies. I layer Cohen’s approximate biometric data, extrapolated from government records, over my search.
A map comes up. It’s broad. Not much chance of narrowing it down. But there are numerous known Salvation safe houses, and I mark them, along with any activity. I discount a few that have been quiet, but that still leaves a dozen possibilities. “All of these are showing heightened activity.”
“The non-dynamic sector,” Zeb says. “Makes sense.”
“Coordinating two, maybe three covert operations is possible if we want to hit them simultaneously. This many? Not a chance,” Woodrow says. “That sector is like a no-go most of the time. It would not get approval, even for a shot at Cohen.”
I flick another feed across the monitor, showing encrypted transactions bouncing across the under web. “Looks like someone is trying to get their hands on that black-market viral serum.”
“Good,” Woodrow says decisively. “Now we just need to lay the other bait. Zeb will take the lead on the operation, and she will go in with him. Rhett, we will need you here, keeping your eyes on the monitors.”
My hackles rise, and I swing my chair around to face the occupants of the room.
“Hold on,” I cut in. “She’s not going into that sector with Zeb. No fucking offense, but where my mate goes, so do I. And I can track my systems from anywhere. Real-time. Any-fucking-where. I’m going with her, where I can relay any relevant information in person.”
“Rhett?” Larissa doesn’t expose my secret. The bond vibrates with her determination to see this through, as well as her worry for me.
“You can’t go with her,” Woodrow says flatly.
“The hell I can’t—”
“You’re not even trained,” Zeb says—asshole. He exhales. “This is irregular, risky.”
“We forget they are newly mated,” Ethan says.
He’s not exactly the paragon of empathy, but I see something close to it, maybe resignation, in his eyes.
“Separating them probably isn’t an option.
He’ll tear shit apart. She will freak out.
And if that happens at the wrong time, this could all come tumbling down. ”
Lucian turns to me, and I already know what is coming. “Are you forgetting something, brother? A big fucking something.”
“The fuck,” I growl.
“Outside, really?” Lucian continues. “And as we have already pointed out, luring them here is not an option.”
Woodrow shifts slightly. “What am I missing here?”
“Are you going to tell them, or shall I?” Lucian asks. “Because they need to know what they’re dealing with.”
“Tell them,” Larissa says gently. Her eyes are filled with her earnest and unwavering support. “They need to know.”
“I’m agoraphobic,” I say bitterly. “I have issues going outside.”