Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3) (25 page)

Becca could feel the last thread falling into place. “Afghanistan,” she breathed.

“He’s got fingers in the Afghan heroin market too, guy’s the fucking godfather of smack,” Ed took another drink. “Bill was having a hard time with his people who wanted to reroute their freighters coming past southern India. Pirates are getting more bold. Between Customs and pirates, keeping up his end of the deal was making him crazy, he figured it was a matter of time before somebody saw something. A few years ago there was talking of putting him in the white house. He knew he had to cut that tie. Offered to buy out of their agreement, so to speak. Said the guy just laughed at him.”

“If he’s been playing along with this Wolf’s game why kill him? What changed?”

“His niece’s suicide attempt last year was the last straw. Wasn’t a suicide attempt, she’s an addict. She OD’d.”

“I read about that.” Ryan’s deep voice rumbled.

“Bill wanted out. Even if it meant his career, he couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t go on talking about making this country great again when he was responsible for letting in the majority of the heroin on its streets. Probably imported the stuff Emily Jane was smoking.”

“What more do you know about the Unitarian?” Gabrielle sounded close, maybe right on the other side of the wall. “How did he contact the senator? Did he give him a phone? Email?”

“I don’t know. At first it was a call on his home line, then with technology over the years I’m assuming it changed but I really don’t know. The guy’s damned smart, I can’t imagine he gave him a phone that could be traced. If you’re hoping to track it I’m sure he’s thought of that already. Made it impossible.”

“We have resources available, we’re just looking for a solid place to start. Save us some time, Ed, point us in the right direction.” Kenneth sounded like he moved. Did he touch him? What would Ed be thinking? Becca wanted him to know something useful so they could get this guy. But at the same time she wanted her dad to know nothing, be the honest hero she grew up trying to make proud. He was hard but good, already there was too much to go back to that, but any more and he could cross into a place that would make looking at him the same way impossible.

“No, Bill never shared.”

Becca felt her shoulders slump as tension flowed out
.
Thank God.

“Okay.” Some shuffling, chairs moving. “Sargent Sauter we’d like to thank you for your cooperation today.”

Ed’s chair brushed on the carpet. “I don’t know who you guys are, but could you do me a favor? I gave you this since it doesn’t much matter anymore I keep his secret, it won’t keep him safe. Catch this guy and make him pay for killing my friend?”

“We will,” Ryan agreed solemnly.

“I promise,” Gabrielle sounded certain.

Sounds of movement, the door opened and closed, and it was done. Her father survived and they had a lead. Thin, but it was better than they had this morning. With a deep breath, Becca jumped.

Upon returning to her body she felt the familiar fatigue settle in, she slumped on the bed.

“Let me get you some juice.” Michael moved passed her to the mini fridge.”

“I’m not thirsty, but thank you.”

“Try some, the sugar might help.”

The fridge door opened and closed with a rubber coated whisper. It was easier not to argue. “Sure.” Poor Michael, he felt responsible for her, always finding ways to be kind when he knew their time was short.

A plastic bottle slid into her hand, he’d already twisted off the lid. Dutiful, she took a drink and put it down on her knee.

“More.”

“Fine.” He could be pushy and she didn’t have it in her today. Relief had sapped the last remaining energy she had.

Another longer swallow. A minor buzzing in her ears, in her skin. Becca blinked. Took another long pull. “You’re onto something, Michael.”

“Finish that, I’ll just let the others know we’re heading to bed after I report this to Admiral Black. All we can do at this point is start pulling phone records from the senator’s personal line going back to the beginning. We won’t have answers tonight.”

“Sounds good.”

She listened to Michael leave to go next door, heard his voice hum through the wall then tracked his movements back to their room and listened as he filled in their boss.

“Your team must stay in Washington, we must find our enemy there before he strikes again. Next time, we might not be so fortunate.”

Michael signed off and Becca watched him approach.

“How are you feeling?” His eyes searched hers as they did so often of late.

“Pretty good, actually.” She smiled. “Not ‘let’s go dancing’ good but I could finish a movie.

He returned her smile and she felt her body’s hum kick up a few notches.

“Maybe we start the movie and see where the evening leads us?”

Worry filled his eyes for only a second before he tucked it away. “Let’s not get too wild, love. We start with a movie, no need to burn you out in one day. We need you strong for what’s coming.”

Annoyed at his rejection, even more irritated at its truth, Becca crossed her arms and tossed him a pout. “Whatever.”

He picked up the remote and turned on the tube.

“No documentaries or learning though. I want dumb, preferably no less than five large explosions. Give me a hero saving a damsel and you have my undying love.” She tossed in a wide eyed blink or two to sell it.

He sighed. “Fine, stupid action with large breasts and small brains it is.”

“Perfect.”

He smiled.

Chapter 22

Almohad is in Washington

Admiral Black’s text message to her the next morning caused her system to cease functioning, her knees trembled.

Almohad, the Unitarian. A name she’d heard maybe a handful of times, always on a whisper, always too late to pick up his scent. Forever in her search for the animal she would sell her soul to put in the ground. Arguably, she already had.

He was responsible for the deaths of so many; the mobile hospital where she served as a nurse in North Africa during World War I, the wounded in their care, the man she loved.  The one time she caught up with him he’d turned her into the beast who would track him through the decades, across six continents. Joining Admiral Black’s outfit all to get a chance to find the creature who made her what she was and feed him his heart, maybe his balls; a hunt that spanned the globe and nearly a century was closing in. She could taste blood. Hers.

Shit
,
she bit her tongue. The metallic tang and waxing of the moon nearly brought her change. Decades of practice allowed her to rein in her wolf, only just. The desire to tear off the professional garb worn for Ed’s interview and change, feel tar fall under paw, follow the smell only her kind produced, was nearly enough to risk it all.

Wolf escaped from Washington zoo shot dead on Pennsylvania Avenue, film at 1
1
.

No, she wouldn’t make it three blocks with all the security on the streets tonight. Torturous but necessary, she had to play it smart or they could lose him again. At least now they knew he was involved in the world of heroin smuggling. Involved? Hell, sounded like he owned the market world wide. Canines sharpened, grew, drool oozed down her tongue.

Control it, god damn it!

He made her, would she be able kill him when the time came or would she feel something akin to what the vamps did? Would she be unable to touch the one whose bite made her? The temptation to do something made her skin itch. A quick diversion to her room and she came out in jeans, pale pink tee, a pair of low brown boots that could take the miles she planned to put on, and she walked out.

Knock knock knock

Her hand was barely off the door when it yanked open. Michael stood there, pale bare chest marred by scars dark enough to be relatively fresh and originate in silver.

This thing with his mate is costing him with Black
.
Sympathy rippled through her chest. What wouldn’t she have done to save Luc had she been given the chance?

“Hey.” Ryan appeared next to her, his greeting directed at Michael.

What would I do to keep this one safe?

Thus the distance, the months of putting safe distance between them. She fucked that up the other night when she had sex with him. Sex? Nope, no hiding the fact that was making love. She knew it, he knew it. Now they were in deeper than ever and she was being handed her first solid lead to destroy Almohad, potentially getting herself killed in the process and now she’d gone and fucked up. Their ties were strong, his human and animal need to protect his mate enough to put himself in harms way. Exactly why the need for space before.

What the fuck am I doing?

“The hell, Gabs? Get in here.” Michael stepped back.

Ryan put a hand on her low back and pushed her inside.

The door closed behind them. Becca had wet hair, the tv remote and a phone in either hand; her expression one of consternation.

“Kyle just called.”

The human’s brother, a computer genius, bought safe passage to their secret world by showing the value he brought the team as a consultant when the need arose.  With Ryan on an op, Kyle was in scanning the constant information streaming in.

“Senator Chris Reese has called a press conference. We’re guessing it’s in response to the assassination of Senator Jordan.” Michael approached from the rear, snatching a gray tee from the burgundy coverlet on the unused queen in the double room as he passed by. Tossing it on, he pulled it down to the top of his jeans and let it hang over flat stomach and long legs. Becca could have done worse, he was sexy for the undead. Gabrielle tracked his progress, unsurprising, he came to rest inches from his mate’s side.

Another knock, Ryan answered.

“What’s up?” Kenneth’s voice was tight.

Itchy to cut his own meat? Bag lunch not cutting it? Maybe it’s not enough, he’s so weak. Can a vampire get some sort of wasting disease?

For all the time they spent together over the decades she hadn’t thought to ask if vampires could die of disease
.
Huh.

“Reese’s press conference is on in a minute,” Ryan mumbled, locking the door.

Electronics hummed for a second before the idiot box blared to life. Yay, super sensitive hearing.

Flat human voices droned, Gabrielle didn’t bother tuning in until she had to.

“We now join our cameras at the Capitol where Senator Reese is about to take the podium.”

Applause for three seconds, then Reese was on screen. Underwhelming at first glance, he could have been anyone’s middle aged suburban husband; bland. Wire rimmed glasses, navy suit, navy and white striped tie, a little wobble to his chin pointed to a man who spent more time with books than weights. Not a shocker, the Rhodes scholar studied law in college and beyond, was secretary to US ambassador to France then ambassador. Brilliant by all accounts, he lacked the charisma and pizazz of the late Senator Jordan. Thinning dull brown hair whisped in the light breeze, they must have the a/c running on high with all those suits and cameras in the older building. Not exactly energy efficient, it couldn’t possibly keep up in the early summer swamp weather. No wonder their session ended soon, half of them were probably one steak dinner and half a scotch away from a massive coronary.