11. Phantom
Chapter eleven
I’m sharpening knives when Joker turns his comms back on, sighing dramatically through the line.
“Please tell me someone is there. I’m going mad,” he says.
I chuckle low in my throat. “More nuts than y’already are? Because yer just about as nutty as squirrel shit,” I ask, jokingly.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite rebel bastard,” Joker throws back with mock fondness.
“Aw, I’m your favorite? I won’t tell Bones you said that,” I volley.
Joker laughs and I smile despite myself. He might be an annoying little shit, but I’ve yet to meet anyone who can match wits with me quite like him.
“You calmed down a little since this afternoon?” he asks, tone softer.
I let out a long sigh, pausing before I answer.
Our intel said we might find a trafficking hub here, but it never gets easier confirming it.
And hiding it behind the guise of a mental health treatment facility is a new level of fucked up we’ve yet to experience.
My reaction might have been a little more…
intense than the others, but we’re all more determined than ever to bring it down.
I run the whet stone along the edge of one of the larger knives in my collection, the rasp soothing. “A little. Did you learn anything else?”
“Well, they have to drug the omegas before they herd them to their doom,” Joker says, and I can hear the sneer in his voice.
“Probably for the best,” I sigh heavily.
“That’s what my wisp said, too,” Joker replies.
I set down my knife, pausing before I speak. I’ve only heard the woman’s voice a few times as I’ve monitored the comms, though Joker’s talked about her nearly constantly.
“What’s her story, Jokes?” I ask, unable to deny the curiosity building in my chest anymore.
“Well, judging from the file I was able to peek at—”
“Wait, you were able to access records?” I interrupt, sitting forward in my chair.
“Uh, yeah. Siren was a giant cunt about it though. Barked at me and everything. But then—”
“When did she help you?” I interject.
Joker makes a chastising noise and I roll my eyes.
“Someone might be a cunt, but we’re going to respect their pronouns,” he says, the patronizing tone only grating my nerves.
He’s right, of course, which only makes me more irritated. Siren uses they/them, and I know better.
“Anyway, like I was saying, I got Siren access to the system the first time, but then I was just too much of a curious Charlie so I went back and looked at my little wisp’s file.
From what I could see, Delilah Montgomery—which is such a pretty name, right?
It fits her so perfectly, and you’ll see what I mean when you see her.
So, Delilah came in six months after her pack was murdered, the only witness to the crime but with no memory of what happened,” he goes on.
I pull up a window on the computer, my brow furrowing.
I remember hearing about that, and when I search for more info, I’m unfortunately proven right.
News articles pop up, each one painting a gruesome picture of a pack murdered in their omega’s nest, with no clues or leads as to who committed such a terrible act.
In one of the articles, there’s a picture of the pack when they were alive.
Three alphas surround the omega in the center, all smiling at the camera.
My eyes focus on the woman at the center.
She’s undeniably beautiful, with dark hair in gentle waves around her round face and eyes the color of steel.
Her curvy body looks soft and inviting, one of her alpha’s massive hands resting on a thick thigh.
The sight makes my heart squeeze, and I have to swallow a growl.
“This place needs to get shut down before anyone else gets hurt,” Joker says in the silence, softly but not weakly.
Immediately, my instincts are on high alert. I’m halfway out of my chair and ready to wake the team for an emergency extraction.
“Are you in danger, Joker? We can scrap the mission—”
He sighs heavily. “No, not me. I’ve been able to avoid med checks so far, and I’ve been trying not to cause too much trouble. But you aren’t seeing what I’m seeing, Connor. And knowing that these omegas aren’t going to have anywhere to go after we’re done…”
My heart aches at his use of my real name and I settle back down into my chair. “I know. But we have to stay focused. We can’t forget the bigger picture here.”
“Yeah, but we could still do something to help them. Isn’t that what this is all about?”
I frown deeply, unable to deny his reasoning.
Would I love to tear that building, and every single one like it, down brick by brick with my bare hands?
Absolutely. But if we stuck around and helped every omega caught up in this black market, we’d end up caught.
It’s better that the authorities step in and handle the clean up.
But it still kills me to hear the almost innocent hope in his voice.
“We can talk to Bones about it in the morning, okay? Changes to the mission are his call,” I say, not telling him yes while also not telling him no.
Joker huffs a sigh, and I chuckle. That boy could pout the feathers off a goose if he put his mind to it. Once he signs off, I sit back in my chair, looking at my knives for a long moment.
“You okay?”
I turn at the sound of Siren’s voice, finding them leaning against the frame of the doorway connecting the main room and the kitchen. They’re out of gear, hair messy, and their hands in the pockets of their black sweatpants.
“Yeah, just got a report from Joker,” I reply, picking up the whetstone and the knife I’d been working on earlier.
“He was able to get me a link into the facility’s servers, you know,” they say, pushing off the doorframe and pacing over toward me.
“He just told me. How did he manage it? We didn’t send him in with any remote access tech,” I ask, confused.
“I don’t need the tech, not when the facility’s firewall is more of a fire-suggestion, and he was able to get me login credentials,” Siren replies, not missing a beat.
I shift over in my seat, allowing them to pull up a chair beside me at the computer.
There’s a brief pause when Siren sees the article about Delilah and her former pack, a shadow passing over their face.
But they close the window and the expression drops before I can comment on it.
A few quick taps after that, and a window appears with the facility’s branding and a login screen.
“Joker swiped a badge from some guy named Drake,” Siren mutters to themselves, rolling their eyes.
I lean closer, draping an arm over the back of Siren’s chair. Their scent is soft today, leaning more toward roses and rain than smoke and leather.
“How’s the forecast, darlin’?” I ask casually.
Siren smirks at our private joke. “Still undecided if we’re gonna have rain or sun. Could go either way,” they reply.
“You got it,” I answer with a dip of my chin, turning back to the computer. “Think we’ll be able to access the auction records with this Drake guy’s creds?”
“Maybe, but if not, I can work around it,” Siren says.
They focus on the screen, worrying their lower lip between their teeth in concentration. With a deep chuckle, I reach up and pull it free with my thumb.
“If you’re hungry, I can fix you up something,” I tease, nudging their shoulder.
Siren rolls their eyes, but doesn’t answer. They also don’t chew their lip again, which is the real win. It’s quiet for a few more minutes, which I don’t mind. Siren and I share the opinion that breath shouldn’t be wasted on mindless small talk.
“And there goes the firewall. I’ve logged in as an admin, so I should be able to get access to anything that’s in their system. Might take some time to sort through,” they murmur, still focused on the screen.
“Joker’s source mentioned that the alphas who…participate,” I nearly choke on the word, but if I say anything else, I’m going to break more furniture, “do so under the guise of donations. So keep an eye out for any donor lists or anything like that.”
Siren nods, and we fall into silence again.
Speaking of Joker’s source has my mind wandering back to Delilah and the picture of her and her former pack.
I can’t imagine going through something like that and still being alive, let alone semi-coherent.
I hope Joker isn’t getting too attached, though.
She’s going to have to stay behind when we pull him out.
“We can let Cross and Bones know what we’ve got in the morning. I’ll take over watch if you want to head to bed,” Siren says, interrupting my thoughts.
Tossing them a grateful smile, I get to my feet with a groan. I ruffle Siren’s hair with a chuckle, earning a snap of their teeth in my direction as I move toward the stairs. But I stop short, turning back.
“Can you do me a favor, darlin’?” I ask lightly.
Siren looks up, waiting expectantly.
“Can you take a look through the file for an omega in there named Delilah Montgomery? Joker’s been hangin’ ‘round her a bunch,” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual.
If Siren notices anything odd about the question, they don’t say anything, simply turning back to the computer and typing away.
That dark look didn’t reappear either, which makes me think I was just seeing things earlier.
When they don’t turn back, I slap the wood of the door frame and head up the stairs.
This is normal, I tell myself as I crawl into bed. I’m just asking to keep our omega safe.
The lie is believable enough to let me get some shut eye.