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“Without being too obvious on the matter, find a way to make it clear that the man running things is the director,” I added as well. We were setting fire to Avian’s own personal world.
Reaching for the intercom, he called in his Chief of Staff, and his former political strategist, Mina. As she stepped in, she looked over to us and sighed.
“So I’m guessing we’re not putting out a statement?” she asked.
“No, you are. Mr. President, please fill her in,” I said, already heading towards the door.
LIAM
“You’re on speaker, Declan,” I said as Monte drove us into town. I wasn’t a fan of Washington; it had nothing on Chicago, and I found myself missing the smog, the wind, the buildings that touched the sky, and everything else that made Chicago great.
“You had us kidnap a federal agent, but not kill her. With all due respect, what the bloody fuck, Liam?”
Rolling my eyes, I rested into the leather seat.
“Where’s the trust, brother?”
“Chained to the wall in the basement of an old steel mill,” he replied.
“Has she said anything?” Mel questioned him.
“No, but I wasn’t aware that she knew anything of importance.”
“There’s no harm in asking.”
I gave her a look.
“Well, there is a harm, but not to us and that’s all that matters. She’s FBI not CIA, which unfortunately for her means that she isn’t trained to endure the same type of torture,” she clarified.
But I did want Intel. “I want her to give us a layout of the Federal building, all the ins and outs, and every secret entrance she can think of. In fact, hold on, Declan…” I said to him as I pressed hold. “Monte. Kain.”
Nodding, they placed their earplugs in.
“What are you thinking?” Mel eyed me carefully as a plan formed clearly in my mind.
“When you came home, you said there are only two wars that Americans care about: the war on drugs—”
“And the war on terror. What’s your point?”
“If you stop interrupting me I can tell you.” I glared at her and she crossed her arms. “What if we gave them terror? It won’t be anything major, we’ll just have our agent say that she has been kidnapped by what appears to be a homegrown terrorist. The media will go crazy, Avian will have no choice but to spend every moment either dealing with the press, or trying to save her.”
Her mind was turning as she reached over to take Declan off hold. “Declan, has she seen your face?”
“No, but she must have seen Coraline’s and Fedel’s when they took her.”
“Hold on,” Mel replied, putting him on hold again. “We’re going to have to kill her, and if we kill her, they will not stop until they find who is responsible. Terrorism, even mock terrorism, can—”
“It can be done, Mel. It can. We said we were taking off the kid gloves, and this is the way to do it. No one will see this coming. There are homegrown terrorists all over this country, between you and Declan’s hacking, I’m sure we could find a scapegoat. We’re actually doing the country a service, and Colemen will look so good, he’ll want to take part in this.” I could see it now and what made it great is the fact that it crossed the line, it wasn’t something that Avian would ever think we’d do.
“Well, if there’s anyone who can pull something like this off, it’s me,” she said.
Her ego sometimes.
“We’re doing it,” I replied, knowing that she was already working out the logistics in her mind.
Once again, she reached over and took Declan off hold.
“Declan, have Coraline slap her around a little bit, but nothing heavy. You and I are going fishing tonight. Be on standby.” And with that, she cut the phone off before she looked to me. “Before we actually do it, I want our scapegoat already in place.”
“Fine,” I nodded.
“We’re here, sir,” Monte said somewhat loudly due to the earplugs. It was easy to tell that we were no longer in the prestigious parts of D.C., and that we were somewhere southwest of the capitol.
What was supposed to be a small photo-op at a newly built youth center, was actually the same place we’d be able to see our customers.
Southwest was one of our biggest consumers. Of course they didn’t know it was us directly, but it didn’t hurt to check in on the trade here.
TWENTY-THREE
“Someday you're gonna look back on this moment of your life as such a sweet time of grieving. You'll see that you were in mourning and your heart was broken, but your life was changing...”
—Elizabeth Gilbert
NEAL
I splashed the water on my face, and took a deep breath before I dared to look at myself in the bathroom mirror. Without turning, I watched as she walked in. Her blue eyes focused on me as she pressed herself against the door.
“Can I help you?” I asked her, as I took some paper towels from the dispenser. I scanned the bathroom to make sure that we were the only occupants.
“Neal, please don’t be this way.”
“What way?” I hollered at her. “What ‘way’ am I being, Olivia? Tell me, seeing as how you know so fucking much.”
Her head dropped and I strode determinedly to her, and grabbed her by the arm as I pulled her to me, and forced her to look me in the eyes.
“You’ve disgraced me,” I sneered only inches away from her face. “You made me a fool. Of all people in this world, you should have known me. You should have known what I wanted and that was to not destroy my family. Family is everything. It comes before all else, and you didn’t even think how I would feel if Avian killed my brothers, my father, my mother.”
“I did it for us! You and I both know your family will never accept you!” she cried.
“You did it for yourself! Jesus fucking Christ, you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself. Now you stand in front of me, trying to seem innocent as if you didn't go against the code. As if you didn't spit on everything my family has spent decades building. Do you know what the Irish do to people who do what you have done? I’m being this way, avoiding you, smiling for the cameras, because it is the only thing that’s stopping me from snapping your fucking neck and dumping you in acid.” Letting her go, I walked past her and opened the door. “If you have ever cared about me, Olivia, play your part because we’re done. Now, let’s go.”
She swallowed as she wiped her tears and fixed her dress. Turning to me she took my extended arm. With a smile, we walked towards the lunch table where my father sat waiting. Olivia went and kissed his cheek before she sat down, and I shook his hand in greeting. He gazed at me with the same tired look I had grown up seeing, and I wanted to tell him that I understood.
“So, Olivia, have you chosen a spot at the family burial plot yet?” he casually asked her while he poured himself some tea.
Her mouth dropped open.
“It’s quite nice, we have photos engraved into the black marble,” he added, as he took a sip.
It seemed as though everyone in the family had taken to torturing her in some way. But she’d made her bed and now she would lie in it, alone. There was no escape for her. Even though she was out in the open like this, Melody had made sure her orders were clear, if Olivia tried to run, we were to aim for her legs.
