Chapter 4
Zeus
"What the fuck?" Jericho asks as he steps into my path on the way to the conference room.
The smack of the back of his hand on my chest is as shocking as the grin on his face. It's not that the man doesn't ever smile, but his tone says he's annoyed, and the grin contradicts that.
"What the fuck?" I counter, reaching up to rub the area he just smacked me.
"You bolted last night," Jericho says.
"I was tired and went to bed," I explain as I try to step around him, only for him to shift right back into my path.
"You missed my proposal to Aspen."
Now I feel like a complete asshole.
"Shit," I mutter. "Sorry, man."
He pulls in a deep breath before speaking again.
"Just don't miss the wedding."
"I won't," I promise, trying to sound as enthused as I can manage when I have no idea what the next year of my life will look like, especially after the revelation that walked through the front door last night.
I wish I could get Zayne out of my head, but thoughts of him infiltrated not only my waking mind but also my dreams. Ignoring him would be a lot easier if the man weren't going to be part of this team.
The only thing I can be happy about is that my upcoming job is with Fury, and it could take months of undercover work, months when I won't have to see the man's face and can pretend that I don't have trouble waiting for me back at the house.
"Meeting," I remind him.
"We have twenty minutes before it starts," Jericho says. "I just came down to grab Eli a snack."
"Better get to it," I say. "He's a growing boy."
He gives me one of the brightest smiles I've ever seen on his face, and it's clear the amount of pride he has when thinking about his son.
"See you in there," he says before walking toward the kitchen.
I pull in a breath of relief that he was focused on his own life and future rather than grilling me about Zayne, but I know it's coming, the millions of questions from everyone on the team.
I feel a sense of elation for getting to the conference room super early, but that little ego boost fades the second I step inside and see Zayne already sitting at the table.
My mood shifts immediately, turning into annoyance before quickly moving to irritation when he looks up from his phone and locks eyes with me.
I'm not surprised the guy is the first one in the room. He's always been a kiss ass with people he considers to be in authority, but the man doesn't know that Hemlock is usually one of the last ones to show up unless he calls an emergency meeting.
Instead of engaging, I take a seat across the table, closer to the door, so when the meeting starts, I don't have to worry about the man being able to see me.
At least he won't be able to if he's paying attention to the person in the front of the room speaking, and I anticipate that because he'd never get caught being distracted when his attention is expected elsewhere.
I pull out my phone, considering downloading some stupid game I'll never play again just to look busy on the off chance he'll take the hint and leave me alone.
I don't have to glance up from the device in my hand to know his eyes are still boring a hole into me.
"Frankie," he begins, but he says nothing else when Ace walks into the room.
"Good morning, gentlemen," Ace says before heading to the front.
I murmur a hello, eyes still locked on my phone, ignoring the increased chatter in the room until the conference room doors are closed.
When I finally look up, shoving my phone back into my pocket, my face heats.
Kincaid, the founder of Cerberus, is standing in the front of the room, looking like the imposing man that he is, despite the soft smile on his face.
His vice president and second-in-command, Shadow, is beside him, along with Hound, a current and active member of the New Mexico Cerberus crew and Kincaid's son-in-law.
It's rumored that Hound is being groomed to take over as president of the New Mexico chapter, but I'm not exactly one to listen to gossip.
I spent my entire childhood doing my best to ignore whispers, and as I've gotten older, I've found that I'll wait for information when it's fact rather than focusing on speculation.
"As you all know," Hemlock begins. "We have a new member today, and I thought it would be a good idea to go around the room and introduce ourselves and give a little background on who we are."
I barely keep the groan of annoyance from slipping past my lips.
"What the fuck?" Nyx mutters, clearly unable to hold back.
Hemlock frowns as he looks in Nyx's direction. That says a lot, because Hemlock can be a very surly bastard when he's in any sort of mood.
Nyx, on the other hand, is a very different breed of man. He's always angry, always pissed, and there are times I wonder why he has a job with Cerberus when it's more likely he just wants to set the entire world on fire, regardless of who it hurts, good or bad.
When Kincaid steps forward, his eyes also glued on Nyx, I get the distinct feeling that our angry teammate is going to be fired.
I've thought he was out the door numerous times since I joined Cerberus because the man is like a raging bull in a China shop, always tearing shit up with a kill-now-and-ask-questions-later mentality.
Instead, I watch in awe as Kincaid's frustration fades away, a slow smile turning up the corners of his mouth before he speaks.
"Okay, Nyx, you can go first," Kincaid says.
Nyx shifts in his seat, drawing every eye in the room, and I know I can't be the only one waiting for him to tell Kincaid to go to hell.
I sense Jericho leaning forward in his seat because the two of them don't exactly get along after Nyx got in Aspen's face and screamed at her a while back, accusing her of knowing more about the bad shit her ex-husband was doing with his employees' missing kids than she was saying.
It didn't go over very well, and there's clearly still some bad blood there.
"Nyx," the man says, not bothering to clear his throat, his voice coming out like he spent the morning chewing on glass. "Former Marine."
Silence grows for a few beats, but it becomes clear that the man isn't going to offer anything else.
"Lark," the man to Nyx's right says. "I hate people in masks, and clowns make my skin crawl."
A warm chuckle rolls through the room, and some of the tension cuts away.
"Echo. I'm from Dayton, Ohio."
"Jersey, former ICE."
"Jericho, also former ICE."
"Casper. IT. Come to me with anything you need. If I can't find it, I can find someone who can."
"Hemlock, president of the Tennessee chapter. Glad to have you here."
"Ace. Former Cerberus. Former ICE, now current Cerberus member."
I nod with each introduction until I feel everyone’s eyes on me, and my heart starts to race with so much attention.
"Zeus," I mutter. "Former Marine."
"With that out of the way," Hemlock says, his voice tinged with disappointment, telling me this little exercise didn't go as he had intended. "First order of business is seeing if anyone wants to move over to the new cabin before we bring others into the chapter."
"No offense," Lark says, looking in Zayne's direction. "The idea of moving all my shit exhausts me."
A murmur of agreement makes its way around the room.
"None taken," Zayne says.
"Next," Hemlock says. "We need to get into this next big project. We were going to have Fury and Zeus together for this one, but since Fury is out of pocket at the moment, I'm sending Zayne in. He's got the most experience with this sort of organization."
My blood runs cold, my hands sweating the second the words leave his mouth.
"We can wait until Fury is available," I find myself saying.
Just the words leaving my mouth make me feel like a piece of shit.
I know this is a suspected trafficking organization, and I also know that any delay could allow them to create many more victims. Our group's entire goal is to save people, not worry about our own personal shit, and let it get in the way of saving others.
I'm once again the center of attention as everyone in the room turns to look at me. Well, all but one person, because Zayne's eyes are locked on the front of the room. Something inside of me clenches in a way I'm not going to spend my time analyzing right now with more than half a dozen witnesses.
"Never mind," I mutter, feeling like an insolent child not getting their way.
"Zayne, why don't you give us a little information on your history?" Kincaid says.
I look for any place in the room to lock my eyes, but on the man who clears his throat as if he's about to spew some rehearsed speech.
"I've spent the last ten years working with a task force that infiltrates paramilitary organizations and helps break them down from the inside out," Zayne says, making it impossible for me to avoid turning not only my eyes but all my attention to him.
Maybe I’m judgmental, despite not being too keen on people judging me. Still, I never would’ve expected that the man would get involved in any crime-related activities, much less spend more time undercover than in his personal life.
"You gave that up to work for Cerberus?" Lark asks, and I find myself anxious to hear his response.
"Well," Zayne begins with a long sigh. "I discovered that several men on my team, including my mentor, were on the take. Actually, most of them were taking the guns, money, drugs, and other things from the compound to either keep themselves or sell on the side."
"Fuck," Jersey whispers.
"What did you do when you found out?" Jericho asks.
"I worked with ICE to build cases on them and have them prosecuted to the full extent of the law," Zayne says.
"I've got no room in my life, personal or work, to accept that type of behavior.
After the dust settled, I was offered a full-time job with ICE, but I turned it down.
That's not exactly where I need my focus to be. "
"Good call," Jersey says.
Jericho mutters an agreement.
"Nothing against the organization, but this case I'm facing now is exactly where my life's work is, and that's where I need it to stay," Zayne says.
"That being said," Casper says from his equipment-heavy computer desk in the corner. "Let's talk about The League of Liberty."
The massive television mounted on the wall comes to life.
"As far as paramilitary groups go, the LOL is pretty standard.
They're dealing drugs, buying as many guns as they can, and stealing what they don't have legal access to.
As if that isn't enough, Cerberus is getting involved because there have been numerous disappearances surrounding the group," Casper explains.
"The missing people, both men and women, are in your dossiers," Kincaid interjects as he hands out rather thin folders to each of us.
I flip through my folder, making note of the faces in the pictures in case I happen to see them during our undercover investigation of the group.
"As always, this group is known for its racism, barely formulated conspiracy theories, self-governance, hostility toward any group in a position of authority, including the United States military, even though from our research we know several of them are veterans," Hemlock says.
"Some of the missing people may have just given up their entire lives to be a part of something they consider the best answer according to their beliefs," Casper says.
"That's common," Zayne adds.
"What we suspect is that they're running a trafficking ring on top of all their other criminal behaviors," Kincaid adds.
"Despite the fact that abducting and/or selling humans for their own gain is a complete contradiction to their stance on the oversight involved in taking away their own liberties, we all know how much money there is in the trafficking industry," Hemlock interjects.
A rumble of disgust runs through the room.
"Zayne and Zeus, the goal is for you to get an invite to join the group and go from there," Hemlock continues.
"The problem with that is this group isn't as flashy as some of the others you may have worked with, Zayne.
Of course, all their vehicles are covered in stickers, making their views on life very well known, but we don't know the group’s organizational structure.
We don't have a clue who is in charge, and since their compound is surrounded by twelve-foot-tall walls with a solid rotation of armed guards, no one has even been able to get a drone ten feet onto the property before it's destroyed. "
"Also common," Zayne mutters as if he was hoping there would be something different about this group, only to be disappointed that they're like every other group of assholes he’s infiltrated in the past.
"Communication will be limited," Casper adds. "But we have ways of getting in touch with you guys if shit goes south."
"We've been working on getting this operation going," Hemlock says to Zayne. "But we'd love your input to ensure everything is as realistic as possible. Their paranoia alone is cause for concern, add in the suspected drug use, and we just have no room for fuckups."
"We have a house lined out for you guys," Kincaid says.
"When do we start?" I ask, trying to force myself to be more involved and feel better about taking the guys down than I can right now, given who I'll be working with.
"We have all the household stuff in the basement," Hemlock answers. "After we go through it and get it packed into the U-Haul, you guys will head out in the morning."
"We've gotten you as close as we could to the compound," Caspers says.
"One thing about that is it takes you nearly an hour from here, and that could get a little hairy considering how easily you guys could be watched by members of the group.
You have to stay in character at all times once contact has been made with them. "
"We fully expect the house to be wired for microphones at a minimum," Hemlock says.
"When do you guys want to go through the props?" Zayne asks with a level of enthusiasm in his voice that would make most people question his mental health.
I know better. I always feel a rush of adrenaline when starting a new job, and this one is no different. Guns and drugs are horrible, don’t get me wrong. But hurting other people to advance yourself in life is one of the lowest things that someone can do to another person.
I'm ready to take down this group of assholes. Plus, the sooner we can get this done, the sooner I can get away from Zayne.