Chapter 3 #2
“I’m not an expert. I reached out to a contact in the materials field with more technical know-how than I have when it comes to weapons and the finer details of MIL-STD-810,” the other man replied.
“He’s on a business trip for a few days, said he’d get back to me when he’s back in town in a day or two—as soon as he does, I’ll let you know.
All I will say is, those specs looked off to me. ”
“Thanks, Tex.” Nick’s tone was grim—even without the details, Tex’s reply was not what he’d wanted to hear.
“Okay. So, what we’ve got is a missing accountant, some financial records and contracts for an arms manufacturer that don’t look right, and specifications for some of their products that look like they don’t meet the standard. Gotta say, I got a bad feeling about this,” Ghost commented.
“You’re not the only one,” Nick responded.
Taking everything into account—his own findings from examining the financial records, the growing list of points of concern already raised by Spectrum’s general counsel, and what Tex and Ghost had to say, everything pointed to a situation that was potentially much worse than he’d originally imagined.
“I need to talk to Charles Markham. It’s imperative I track him down and find out what the hell he’s up to.”
“Nick, you know you could just hand it all over to the FBI, let them deal with it,” Ghost suggested. “You could be letting yourself in for a whole world of pain.”
“I know.” It was an opinion shared by former DEA agent Rachel Thompson when Nick had first consulted her. “That would be the sensible thing to do. It’s what my head tells me to do.”
“But your gut disagrees.”
Ghost understood him too well. “For Taylor’s sake, if her father’s been doing what I think he’s been doing, I want him to have a chance to hand himself in. Tex, what are the chances of finding him, given he’s gone into hiding?”
“Depends whether he’s gone off grid or not. If he has, I’m not saying it’s impossible, but it’s not going to be easy. I got a feeling an accountant from New York City’s not going do that. At least, not for long. You really think he’s the bad guy in all this?”
“I don’t know. And I don’t know for sure he’s a good guy, either.”
“It’s going to be hard on Taylor if he isn’t.” Ghost observed.
“You might have to be prepared for that,” Tex warned. “He’s sent all this data to Taylor because he believes they—whoever they are—are coming for him, but it’s like he doesn’t know he’s potentially put her at risk, too.”
Nick frowned. “Doesn’t know or doesn’t care.”
“Thing is,” Tex continued, “what if they manage to find out where he sent the package? Trouble could come knocking on your door—you got enough protection?”
Nick gave a humorless laugh—he wasn’t surprised the former SEAL was on the same wavelength.
“That’d be funny if we didn’t, given what we do.
Charity’s with Tay right now, explaining why she needs to stay at the ranch for the next few days.
However, depending on what we uncover, it might be best if we get her well away from here, maybe even all the way out of Texas. ”
“It might be advisable,” Ghost agreed. “Leave it with me. I have some friends who may be able to help.”
“Friends?” Nick queried. “Are you going to tell me who they are?”
“Might be better for all of you if I don’t. Plausible deniability if this op goes sideways. Know what I mean?”
Nick knew only too well. He also knew he could trust Ghost with his life—and, more to the point, with the life of his friend. “Thanks. I’ll leave it with you. Just let me know what you need.”
“Will do.”
After the call, Nick mulled over everything they’d discussed.
A plan was coming together, but there was one aspect that made him more than a little uncomfortable.
If Taylor did end up traveling out of state, there was no way Nick would allow her to make that trip alone.
He wanted one of his own people with her, for the journey and the duration of her stay, wherever she ended up.
And therein lay a small issue—assigning one of his own people to escort her.
Nick groaned. Small issue? Who was he kidding?
The only operative he could allocate was the last one he’d ever task with the job.
Others were technically available, but had only just finished an intense, physically demanding assignment and needed some downtime in preparation for their next jobs—jobs only they could do.
All of which left that one operative who was champing at the bit for something to do before his next provisionally scheduled job.
Nick would have given his left nut for it to be anyone else.
That man was Rhys Dalton.
Rhys Dalton.
And Taylor Markham.
Rhys Dalton and Taylor Markham living in each other’s pockets for an undefined length of time.
It was a disaster waiting to happen. Possibly even an international incident.
Nick sighed. There was, at least, a tiny glimmer of a silver lining in the thundercloud he was about to unleash on an unsuspecting world—Rhys and Taylor were like oil and water, so there was no way they’d be riding off into the sunset of a happily ever after together.
The idea wasn’t just ridiculous—it was the very definition of impossible.