“Sure there is. It’s all taken care of. You just play your little part when Judge Boutte calls and asks to see the evidence.”
“I don’t have the evidence. It’s at the courthouse in the evidence room.”
“I’ve got that under control. Can you handle your part of the deal?”
“You don’t leave me a lot of choice.”
“Glad you see it my way. Now I’ve got to run. Tell your wife and kids hello for me.”
Sebastion watched him walk away, hating him, hating himself, too, for being stuck in a situation that could only get worse. Most of all, he hated that there was no way out.
IT WAS one of the rare times when all the New Orleans Confidential agents were gathered in one room, and, as usual when that happened, Conrad Burke was not smiling.
He shuffled some papers while the group poured themselves cups of the dark chicory coffee from the pot on the back counter and found chairs around the round table. Just like the knights of old, only they were out to slay scorpions instead of dragons. And there wasn’t a white horse in sight.
Alexander McMullin was second in command to Burke. Young, cocky, a risk taker who’d grown tired of the rules that went along with being a cop. He was perfect for the Confidential team. Seth Lewis was even younger, only twenty-nine. He was a homeboy who had joined the army to see what the world looked like outside the ghetto. Now he was fighting a different kind of war.
Tanner was the old man of the group. Forty-three. He’d seen enough to know that he liked his cars fast, his jazz cool, and his women hot—and temporary.
He also knew this was the first job he’d had in a long time that he could sink his teeth into, the kind of no-rules operation he’d been looking for all his life.
“It’s been a long, hot summer.”
Tanner refocused on the meeting as Burke got down to business.
“I’ve got a feeling it’s about to get even hotter, but before I hit you with that, I have some good news. Wiley Longbottom is making great progress. He’s being released from the hospital but is staying in town a couple of weeks longer so that his cardiologist can keep a check on him.”
They broke into applause. Everybody loved the retired director of the Colorado Department of Public Safety, and had been worried sick about him.
“Wiley got us off to a great start in New Orleans,” Burke continued. “He became one of the drug overdose victims of Category Five and launched us into war against the mafia drug trade and ring of underage prostitutes. We’ve had some successes there, though not enough, but we haven’t made any headway with the original assignment. We still don’t know why the Nilia rebels who support the overthrow of their democratic government are in New Orleans.”
“Are we sure Scorpion Poison hasn’t left the area?” one of the agents asked. “We haven’t spotted any of the members in almost a week.”
“Not only are they still here,” Burke answered, “but the Coast Guard and CIA think illegal substances were smuggled into New Orleans yesterday on a cargo ship that was docked in Miami at the same time a ship from Nilia was in that port. Something big is up. We need to find out what that something is.”
“Any ideas what we should try next?” Mason asked.
“I’m standing in front of the best idea and action bunch I know. Now it’s up to you guys. Do what you have to do, but get this job done. I expect a hundred percent of your efforts, and unless you’re eating or sleeping I expect a hundred percent of your time. Just remember, if the game goes sour, there’s no such agency as the Confidential. You are on your own.”
The room grew quiet, not because that bit of news came as any surprise. They’d all been made aware of the rules of engagement up-front. The silence was more a reflection of their moods. So far they’d found out nothing about the rebel presence in the city, and failure in any form was not acceptable to the men in this room. Everyone except Tanner would give the assignment a hundred and ten percent.
Their daughters weren’t missing.
“I’ll be meeting with each of you one-on-one over the next few days,” Burke said. “In the meantime, I’d like you to give serious thought to your next plan of action.”
There were a few more questions, but the meeting was basically over. Burke was a family man. He and his wife had twins only eight months old, but he never asked his agents to do anything he wouldn’t tackle himself. He’d be out there in the fray with them, putting his life on the line in the same way he expected them to be.
There wasn’t a man in the room Tanner wouldn’t trust with his life—except one—and he was walking toward Tanner right now.
“Party time,” Mason said, smiling broadly. “I say we go out and kick some Nilia rebel ass, partner.”
“First we have to find them.”
Tanner’s cell phone vibrated. He took it from the clip at his waist and stepped out of the room to take the call.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Tanner.”
He recognized the strident voice with the heavy British accent immediately. His ex. Talk about making his day.
“Hello, Juliana. I was going to call you later.”
“Don’t lie to me, Tanner. You weren’t going to call. And I just want one thing from you. Have you found my daughter?”
“Our daughter. I haven’t found her.”
“You thought you were such a bloody good CIA agent, so why can’t you find your own flesh and blood?”
“I’m trying.”
“You better be. This is all your fault. If you’d been a halfway decent father, you’d know where your daughter is.”
All his fault, but then what hadn’t been? “I’m doing everything I can to find her, Juliana. It’s just a matter of time.” He doubted she believed him, wasn’t sure he believed it himself any longer.
She spouted more accusations, and his grip tightened around the phone. There was no reasoning with Juliana when she was like this. There would be less reasoning if she knew that their daughter had been working as a prostitute.
She started a new round of accusations, and he held the phone away from his ear. It had been ten years since he’d lived with her, yet that screeching voice could still set every nerve in his body on edge.
“I’ll call you later. And I won’t rest until I find Lily. I promise you that.”
Juliana broke into tears, then hung up the phone without saying goodbye. He probably hadn’t said the right things today any more than he’d ever managed to say the right things two times in a row when they were married.
A rotten husband. A lousy father. Par for the course.
The door to the conference room opened and the guys started filing out, all fired up and ready to go out on the streets and do their job. He could see it in their eyes and the way they walked, shoulders back oozing confidence. Only one thing on their minds, the way it had to be if you were a Confidential agent. It was the promise they’d given, the one he’d given, too. But that was before his world had been turned upside down.
He waited until Burke walked out, then joined him. “I’d like to talk to you if you’ve got a minute.”
“Sure thing, Harrison. Let’s go to my office.”
Tanner nodded, and kept walking, feeling sick inside, as if he were about to walk off the edge of a cliff with nothing to break his fall but jagged rock.
There was no cliff, but he was about to do the second hardest thing he’d ever done in all his life. And once again, there would be no going back.
Chapter Three
“Is this about Lily?” Burke asked as he closed the door.