3 - Brose
M y phone buzzes . I grab it, glancing at the screen, and answer before it can buzz twice. “Grandfather. What do I owe the pleasure?”
“I’m checking in. How are things going?” His response comes across a sketchy satellite line with small micro-interruptions in the connection and a trace of long distance distortion.
“Good. We’re open for business.”
“Perfect. And… how are you feeling?”
I shrug, even though we’re not talking in person. “Fine. Why?”
“You know I worry about you, Ambrose. You’re all the family I have left.”
He says this every time we talk. Like he’s trying to convince me of his love. Sometimes it bothers me, but only in a casual way. He’s all the family I’ve got left as well. “Thanks for asking,” I say. “But I’m OK.”
After a small hesitation, he says, “Good.”
But he doesn’t say anything else. So I ask, “Would you… like a progress report?”
“No, thank you.” His tone comes off as considerate and these words are soft. “Don’t hesitate to call if you have any issues. You know how to find me. Now carry on.”
The call ends before I can say anything else, but there’s no time to think about it because Olive enters my control room without knocking. I look over my shoulder, enjoying this look she’s wearing today—the Roaring Twenties dress, her pale face in the false light, and her eager eyes. The whole vibe just works for me.
“I’ve got one,” she says, handing me his credit card. “Who is he?”
I turn back to the panel of screens in front of me, the system cycling through its routine sweeps of the compound. Constant eyes, always watching. Comparing the image of the man who just entered the Mule Pit with all of Collin Creed’s known employees takes less than a second.
“New guy,” I say, pointing at the top left screen. “Just came in last night. Good thing the drones tagged him at the gate.” I zoom in, the profile populating across the screen. "Ean Shephard. Age twenty-seven. Former DRS."
“Deep Recon Specialist? No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Well…” Olive pauses to think about this. “I don’t get it. He’s one of us. Is he here undercover?”
“He didn’t trigger the tracking when he came through the entrance of the bar, which means his chip has been turned off, so my official assumption should be no.”
“Then what’s your unofficial assumption?”
“Give me a moment,” I say, letting my fingertips dance across the keyboard. I hit enter and this guy’s history with CORE pops up.
“Holy shit,” Olive says, leaning in towards the screen. “He’s legit.”
He is legit. It takes me almost ten whole seconds of scrolling to get to the bottom of all the info we have on Ean Shephard. I point to the last entry. “And there we go. This one went insane a few years back. Was discharged and promptly entered the prison system out in Wyoming for armed robbery.”
Olive takes a seat on a wheeled stool and rolls herself over next to me. “Damn. What the hell is he doin’ here?”
I scan the notes that begin to populate now that I’ve drawn attention to the new guy. “Looks like Charlie Beaufort got him out of prison and sent him to Collin on a contract.”
“I don’t get it. Why would Collin hire him? Especially after Collin’s fallin’ out with Charlie?”
“Oh, hold on. This explains it. His contract with Charlie got sidetracked by some judge’s moral compass, so it didn’t actually go through until after all that shit went down underground with Collin and friends.”
“Hmm,” Olive hums. “You’d think that Charlie would have the power to cut those strings.”
She’s right. “You would think that. So maybe this guy is undercover?”
“Spying on Collin?” she asks. “That’s quite a deep cover if they sent him to prison for five years just to set it up.”
Yeah, Olive’s right about that too. Doesn’t make much sense. I turn my head to look at her. And God, she’s so fucking beautiful, I almost can’t stand it. Everything about this girl is perfect. And my job here—to handle her—well, it’s like a dream come true. I handle her all right. Every fucking night I’ve got my dick between her legs.
“Brose?”
“Right. Yeah. It’s possible that this isn’t Charlie’s mission. Maybe he couldn’t cut the strings, even though he wanted to.”
Olive is nodding. “Makes sense.”
“Get rid of him.”
“Already? But?—”
“Olive, do not question me. Get rid of him. The last thing we need is to get stuck in one of Charlie Beaufort’s webs. We’ll get the next one. Over half those guys on Collin’s payroll are former CORE operatives.”
“But what if he’s not deep cover? What if he’s just an employee?”
“Don’t contradict me. I said get rid of him.”
“We’ve been open for three weeks, Brose, and not a single other Edge employee has come by. We’ve put those flyers up all over Revenant, but take a look at the room out there.” She points to the bank of screens that keep an eye on the public areas. “They’re all locals or tourists who came for the Trinity County experience. Collin has warned his guys, or something. Ean is new. This might be our only chance. If I let him get away, he’ll go back to the compound, start talking about this place, and then Collin or Amon will hear about it and tell everyone to stay away for sure. Or worse, he’ll come down here to check it out himself.”
“All of that is true,” I say, slowly reaching over to place my hand on her throat. Her eyes immediately track to mine. “But I know why you want to work him. You can’t fool me, Olive. I saw the way you looked at him. You think he’s attractive.” I press my fingers into her skin with just enough pressure to let her know this is getting serious.
Which makes her eyes close. The expected outcome.
Olive Creed. She’s a dirty little whore, and I mean that in the most affectionate way, because I’m the one who turned all that lust into something usable. She’s horny, like all the time. And I’m not saying she’d fuck just anyone, but this guy here? Ean, or whatever? He’s better-looking than most. It’s natural for her to be drawn to him.
Olive opens her eyes, trying to get herself under control. “My ensuing seduction,” she says, climbing into my lap and spreading her legs to straddle me, “will be purely professional.” She takes my face in her hands and stares deep into my eyes. “But wouldn’t you like to watch, Brose?”
“You want to fuck him right now?”
“Only if you want to watch.” She smiles at me. Winks. Then she kisses me and starts grinding on my dick, getting me hard. Or more like getting me ready.
“Fine,” I whisper. “Fine. I’ll watch.” The way this girl affects me is way beyond inappropriate. She’s got a hold on me. It’s a weakness. I know this. But I really like her. A lot.
Olive kisses me again, our mouths open, lips lingering. Then she says, “Don’t get too excited. I’ll be back after he leaves to finish you off.”
Then she gets up and abandons me with a fierce hard-on and a fantasy that may or may not include this motherfucker who just walked into my operation.