19. Chapter 19
Riley
I walked wearily inside the dark bungalow behind Old Faithful, my clothes stiff with dried sweat and Malcolm’s blood. The graze on my thigh pulled when I moved, a distant sting that the implant had filed under non-critical.
The bungalow smelled like pine sap and a whiskey Gunnar had abandoned on the windowsill a few days ago. I dropped my pack by the door and stood in the center of the main room, listening to the silence.
Guilt and bone-deep sorrow seeped through the chill.
I turned on the shower and carefully peeled off my clothes.
When the water turned hot, I stepped in and stood, numbly letting the scalding heat soak my hair and body.
Malcolm was there on Mary Mountain because of me and my investigation, and because I refused to let my father’s death go.
Our first encounter was at the gas station in Mesquite, Wyoming, when Parker shot out his windows and tires.
When we officially met at the Pack mansion in California, he’d used his Compulsor energy to try to force me to kneel, so I’d shocked him.
And somehow we’d become friends. I choked back a sob and braced my hands against the shower wall, letting the water wash away my remorse.
Parker’s shower kicked on, the pipes groaning.
I quickly finished showering and turned off the water so he’d have some.
Parker was quiet since loading Malcolm’s body onto the Blackhawk, his face set in lines I hadn’t seen since the early days after my father vanished.
Grief didn’t soften Parker. It honed him like a blade against a whetstone.
The pilot agreed to fly Bart, Cora, and Malcolm’s body back to Sawyer’s territory when Cora was ready.
Parker emerged twenty minutes later, his hair damp. He wore a fresh pearl snap shirt and worn jeans.
“Conall and Sawyer want a conference call. You up to it?”
I nodded, and he dialed the number and put it on speakerphone.
“Is Riley there?” Conall asked without saying hello.
“Yeah, and we’re on speaker.”
“Are you alright, a stór?” Conall asked softly.
His deep voice made my eyes water. “I... I’m not injured.”
“Sawyer and Alpha Hagan are with me,” Conall informed us.
“Sawyer… It’s my fault he was there. I’m so sorry.” I stared out at the pines through the kitchen window as the implant froze the tears inside me.
“His death is not your fault. When he heard about the situation, he wanted to go, and I’m glad you were there when he passed. Fuck, I’m going to miss him.” Sawyer let out a rough breath and was quiet for a moment. “Alright. Tell us exactly what you found.”
Parker cleared his throat. “We’ve got video, photos, shipping manifests, equipment serial numbers, and hand-drawn maps dating back more than half a century.
Apex Mentis has operated facilities across the Western states, supplied by Apollo Genetics.
One of them was in Rocky Mountain National Park, at Fern Meadows. ”
“Fern Meadows.” Conall’s voice sharpened. “There was a fire there.”
“The fire that started two days after Elijah disappeared,” Parker confirmed, his jaw hard. “They burned twelve thousand acres to cover their tracks.”
A low, vicious curse came from Sawyer. Then a third voice joined with a distinctive Texas cadence.
“This is Malachi. I want to confirm that y’all found hard evidence that the federal government has been running illegal covert facilities in national parks and other sites, guarded by military personnel, with equipment from a private genetics company that’s been implicated in human experimentation.
” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of someone verifying facts.
“Yeah,” Parker confirmed. “The bunker we found is built into an abandoned mine shaft. It’s full of crates with Apollo Genetics lab equipment.
Centrifuges, PCR machines, cell culture incubators, cryogenic storage.
It looks like they were interrupted while setting up another Roswell.
And it’s sitting on top of one of the largest thermal energy sources in North America. ”
“Cognizant abilities are fueled by energy,” I reminded everyone. “They’d need a massive power source to artificially recreate Cog abilities in adults. Yellowstone is an ideal location.”
There was dead silence on the line. I could picture them in some D.C. suite, the three Alphas standing around a phone, their expressions hard.
“Well, this sure as shit changes things,” Malachi murmured. His drawl had hardened.
Sawyer’s voice came through the line. “We’ve been arguing that mandatory registration is an overreach and a violation of shifter sovereignty.
But this is evidence of long-term criminal conspiracy and a violation of civilian rights at the highest levels.
Kidnapping, torture, death, and too many violations to count.
Military personnel guarding a private company’s laboratory beneath a national park. Human experimentation.”
“Can you send Drew what you have in the next thirty minutes?” Conall asked. “This should be enough to bury the registration legislation.”
“Send it to Madison too,” Sawyer added. “This evidence needs to get to the right committees and journalists before they try to bury it.”
Conall growled, the low, dangerous edge of his wolf in his voice. “Parker, I want you to hand-deliver copies of everything to Drew. The originals stay with you.”
“The registration vote is tomorrow afternoon,” Malachi added.
“The Alphas who’ve been sitting on the damn fence, and especially the Northeastern Pack, are gonna change their tune unless they have a death wish.
It’d be suicidal to side with the Feds after this breaks.
Y’all have found something remarkable here. But at a terrible cost.”
We hung up, and Parker leaned back in his chair, running a hand down his face. Outside, Old Faithful erupted, the distant roar shaking the windowpanes.
“Let’s send what we have, then get some sleep before the next shitshow erupts,” Parker muttered.
My phone rang a few minutes after we sent the last files to Drew and Madison.
“Hey,” I sighed.
The bond thrummed between us, a distant warm hum against my grief. “Are you really alright? The bond is muted.”
I looked down at my hands. Clean now, but I could still feel Malcolm’s blood between my fingers, warm and slick. “I’m functional. The implant is taking the brunt.”
“I’m sorry about Malcolm. He had feelings for you, which drove me fucking crazy, but he was a damn good shifter.”
The implant hummed, sending another shot of frigid clarity through my veins. Functional. Operational. Alive. I pressed the heel of my hand against my sternum.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” I asked.
“We will be. The Feds can’t push through mandatory testing for shifters while Apollo Genetics and Apex are modifying people and running labs in national parks. Those parks are supposed to be a refuge, and they belong to everyone. What they’re doing is a travesty.”
“The optics are horrible.” I agreed, my words flat.
Another pause. Longer this time. I could hear the distant sounds of D.C. through the connection—traffic, a siren wailing blocks away. Conall was standing by a window somewhere, probably looking out at the city.
“There’s something you need to know.”
“Tell me,” he murmured.
“I want to change the laws, and organize and lobby against Cognizant testing too.” The old rage and helpless fear surfaced.
“The same argument applies. If they’re running these facilities, experimenting on people, turning Normals and shifters into Cogs, the registration system isn’t protecting anyone. It’s just cataloging us for their use.”
Conall’s voice was careful and measured. “You’re right.”
“You think the timing will interfere with the shifters’ agenda,” I guessed.
“Probably, but that doesn’t make you less right. When you finish your investigation, we’ll get in touch with the Cognizant Coalition.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Come home when you can. Or I’ll go to you.” His voice dropped to that register that made my toes curl. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” I disconnected, and Mangus whined softly. Reaching over, I scratched behind his ears as his tail thumped. Outside, the geyser basin steamed in the late afternoon light, the mountains rising beyond.
Parker turned to me from where he stood by the window. “You’re not going to wait, are you?”
“Nope.”
Before he could reply, Freda opened the front door, and Gunnar lumbered in behind her with a scowl on his lumpy face. “I hope someone made coffee. It’s been a long morning.” He paused and studied me. “I’m sorry about your friend, Blackthorne. Freda told me what happened.”
I pressed my lips together. “Thanks. Last I’d heard, you were supposed to be getting out of the hospital today, then going home to recuperate for a few weeks. What’re you doing here?”
When he fell on the couch, it creaked under his weight. “I can recover here just as easily. Fill me in.”
“Does Fergus know you’re here?”
He shrugged, then winced. “Maybe. What’s going on?” We told him what we’d found at the site and about the trip bomb. By the time we finished, Gunnar was pale and lying flat.
“Sooner or later, we need to contact Fergus,” he grunted.
I rubbed the scar on the back of my neck. Our supervisor was way down on my list of people I wanted to talk to. “We will, eventually. These facilities have been years in the planning. It’s like fighting a hydra. When we cut off one of its heads, two more grow back.”
“We need backup and more weapons,” Parker grunted.
I had that fuzzy, hungover feeling from being buffeted by too many strong emotions and sleep deprivation.
Guilt and grief clung to me like a fifty-pound coat.
“What exactly are we going to do with more weapons? The Pack Council is partially compromised, and the authorities who’d usually investigate a conspiracy this big are the ones perpetrating it. ”
Freda crossed her arms. “The Alphas are tied up with the registration vote, and you’re in the middle of a missing persons investigation, but it’s all connected.
Drew is a Statistician, and you have that chip device in your head that pretty much makes you one too.
I say we get a little sleep, then call Drew and make some plans. ”
Just then, my phone rang. I looked down and saw Fergus’s name on my caller ID.
I glanced at Gunnar. “Our supervisor is calling. What do you want to do?”
“Fuck,” he sighed. “Take it, I guess. But give him just enough information to get him off our nuts.”
Freda raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be outside.”
I answered the call, and Fergus started yelling. “Where the hell have you been? I get a call from the FBCI saying you’re impeding one of their investigations, Alfson’s gone missing, and I don’t know anything about what’s happening with your case.”
Gunnar leaned over. “Don’t get your tighty whities in a wad, boss. I’m right here. And the FBCI Director himself came here with six other agents and tried to take one of our investigators without getting a warrant first. Maybe you should check your facts before you go off on us.”
“My tighty whities in a wad?” Fergus whispered hoarsely.
I picked up the phone and took him off speaker. “My partner’s on pain meds. You should disregard everything he just said, except he’s right about the FBCI.”
Fergus sniffed. “I’ve always disliked Langston.
He’s an unpleasant man with an inferiority complex.
But you brought heat onto the Investigative Branch.
If you can’t keep Pack politics out of your work, we’ll need to rethink your position.
Maybe an internal desk job will keep you safe and out of trouble. ”
I gritted my teeth. “Sir, with all due respect, my Pack affiliation had nothing to do with my being kidnapped.” And tortured, I thought bitterly. “Or Langston wanting to interrogate me. He wanted information on the facility and what they did to me there.”
“Put him back on speaker,” Gunnar growled as Fergus started talking again.
I covered the mouthpiece. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Do it,” he growled.
I shook my head, but put the phone back on speaker and set it on the coffee table.
“…why the FBCI doesn’t like shifters,” Fergus finished.
Gunnar leaned in. “Langston said you authorized Riley to be picked up for questioning. Is that true?”
Fergus was quiet for a moment. “I didn’t ‘authorize’ anything, but I did tell him he could talk with her.”
Gunnar’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t warn her. Why?”
“I didn’t know he planned to take her into custody and bring six agents with him,” Fergus said loudly. “Why aren’t there any new updates in the case file, and why haven’t you been checking in?”
Gunnar opened his mouth, but I beat him to it. “We’re checking leads, but we’ve been interrupted several times. Then I had to go back to Denver for my interview with the FBCI. But we’re on it. In fact, we have an appointment in a few minutes, so we need to hang up.”
Gunnar raised a bushy eyebrow, and I gave him a wide-eyed shrug. I had an appointment with my bed. That counted.
“I know you’re holding out on me, and probably making faces right now. Jesus, I thought you two would hate each other and be nagging at me for different partners. I expect an update by this time tomorrow.”
The line went dead.