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And maybe on informants. “What does your informant do for the Brothers Grim?”
Dada sat up, fingered the thick, woven-leather bracelet on her wrist.
It was a nervous habit and the only jewelry Dada wore. If not on a mission, where it was part of an image, she stayed away from jewelry. Jewelry reminded her of her childhood. Her bio-mother had dressed her in jewelry right before she sold Dada’s body. The first time, she’d been eight.
Mukta had found Dada four years later inside a brothel. She’d been giving birth. The bracelet was for the child. The boy who had not survived.
“He provides documents. That is how I knew the Brothers had changed locations. He isn’t involved with them otherwise.”
“Oh. Okay, so he just helps the slavers get around.”
Dada’s gold eyes widened, then narrowed. “Juan became involved before he knew of their business. Now he is trapped.”
She seemed to know a lot about this man. What else did she know? “Why do you think the Brothers picked Jordan? A place where we have so few resources? Coincidence?”
“I have an informant, not access to their brain waves.”
“If you had to guess?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say the Brothers Grim were informed that this was an ideal place to get away from an imminent threat and still proceed with their meeting.”
Justice flinched. Looked like the cat was out of the bag. And peeing all over the bed. “Could your informant have—”
“No. He knows nothing of us.”
“But—”
“I am not a novice. I know how to manage an informant.”
“Really? How much time do you spend managing this guy?”
Dada’s eyes dropped. “If you are asking if I am sleeping with him, the answer is yes.”
Whoa. What? If she was willing to admit that, admit the violation, she must be in it bad. Or guilty. “What the fuck? You’ve risked the League. This guy, this informant, has obviously told them about—”
“First, you have no room to talk. You revealed secrets to Sandesh. You—”
“That’s not the same—”
“No. It is worse. But Juan is not being brought into the family and welcomed. He does not have a charity Momma can use as cover.”
“Sandesh risked himself—”
“Juan risked himself. He provided us with secret information. He told us of Jordan. He cares.”
He cared? Well, she obviously did. What would Dada do to keep Juan safe? Could Dada have actually tipped off the Brothers in order to get the change of venue, create an opportunity for Juan to run?
If so, had he run? Only one way to find out. “I’m going to need Juan’s help to get into Walid’s Mexican compound.”
Dada recoiled. “Those men are aware now. Anything he does could draw suspicion. They are already attempting to find him and us.”
“All the more reason for him to help.”
“Justice”—Dada slapped her hands together—“the nature of the work is covert. We need to work on covering our tracks. If we wanted to be heavy-handed killers, we wouldn’t need preparation and subtle manipulation.”
“Wrong. I know of many brutal retaliations carried out by the League with minimal prep. And more exposure.”
“By our sisters in arms in poorer countries. In places where the myth is necessary, where men can be scared from their abuse. But we are talking about going on the offensive against organized crime. At their home base. When they are ready. This is not something done with a cudgel or by slicing off someone’s balls.”
Justice stood up and headed for the doors. “I’m going to need Juan’s help.”
Dada pointed a finger at Justice. “Not everything is simple. You can’t always use your temper to shape the world to your desires.”
The doors slid open at her approach. “Actually, that’s kind of our company motto.”
Chapter 46
Blood saturated the cement floor and its scent permeated the chill air of the underground chamber.
At times, Walid thought the world was full of people who did not want to listen. Or learn. His hands ached from trying to get this man to listen to reason.
Walid flexed his sore hands. “Juan, we already know that you are sleeping with a woman. We know that you have been giving her information. Why will you not admit to this? Why must you make me beg not to hurt you? Please. Tell me who she is. Who is behind her?”
Juan sniveled mucus and blood. “No. Not me. Didn’t.”
Walid furrowed his brow. What he had done to this man was beyond what most could endure. It made no sense that he still held out. Could Dusty have been mistaken?
He called to his man. The former FBI agent entered through the arched doorway with a face as blank as a freshly cleaned chalkboard.
Walid pointed to Juan. “Are you sure this is the one?”
Dusty’s eyes didn’t drop to the man. He obviously knew better. Some images stained the mind. The control Walid had over his own mind was not common.
“It’s him. Like you asked, your brother’s men oversaw the entire process. They went through everyone. Not just current employees and contractors, but former.”
Walid heard something in Dusty’s voice: Annoyance? Disgust? Jealousy? “Yes. They are good men. They also located the digital trail and have men attempting to get information from the go-between.”
They hadn’t succeeded yet, but he didn’t need to know that.
Dusty’s eyes opened. “You didn’t tell me?”
Walid cleared his throat. That was something. His realizing he’d been demoted. “Why would I? I am master here.”
Juan pulled against the straps holding him to the dentist chair. A surprising burst of energy. “Let me die.”
Dusty’s eyes did drop then. “Let me finish him.”
Walid’s anger surged. “I need this information. Or do you think my brother’s death a minor matter?”
Juan’s momentary burst of energy left him. He dropped his hands against the metal supports and began to weep. “Let me die.”
Ah. Now they were getting somewhere. Walid bent over him, smoothed a hand along the man’s sweat-soaked scalp. “Do you think I want to see your pain?”
Juan cough-laughed through tears and blood. “You like this.”
Walid looked toward the door of the underground chamber. He was glad to see his man, Dusty, had shut it when he left. He didn’t like his men to witness these moments.
“All you must do is tell me about your woman and who is behind her. And then, I will kill you.”
And her. And anyone who rose against us. With great fanfare.
Chapter 47
The line of four girls and one boy that ranged in ages from thirteen to seventeen shifted and squirmed on the dojo floor before Justice and Bridget. If Cee was adopted and added to this group, this would be the biggest unit ever.
Bridget had the floor, but no one’s attention. They were nervous about dinner. If you weren’t on time, you skipped dessert. And they still had to go upstairs and get dressed.
Bridget tried the Momma clap. A few ears perked up. “Please remember the three moves we showed you are quick defense. And only part of what you need. Remember what I said about keeping your eyes open, your spirit open, always noticing the world, even if it’s uncomfortable. In fact, if it makes you uncomfortable, pay even more attention.”
A few nodded, but most had their eyes on the door. Justice gave her too-kind sister the look. Bridget sighed, and with a wave, gave Justice the go-ahead.
Yeehaw. “Sisters!”
All heads snapped up. Romeo’s eyes narrowed.
Huh.
Sensitive.
With a too-high opinion of himself. Probably because of his looks. That striking, tapered edge to his large, amber-brown eyes. As if som
ewhere buried within his Slavic ancestry was a long-gone relative from China. She didn’t bother to correct her word choice.
He’d learn.
“All for one and one for all isn’t just a motto. Trust us. If we hold you here longer than necessary, it’s because this matters more than dessert.”
They quieted. A few looked abashed. Some angry.
She watched emotions play across their faces. A difference in skin tone, eye color, height, weight, and yet they all had the fire; they were all family.
Bridget took over again. She met the eyes of each, bowed at the waist. “Namaste.”
