“Do they know about the Bakers?”
“No.”
“Have you seen them?”
“The Bakers? Every week.”
“What do your brothers know?
“’Bout me? Nothin’.”
Greystone wasn’t used toansweringquestions. Every conversation he had was designed toextractinformation, yet reveal nothing. He was a master manipulator at getting people to talk without realizing they were giving away the farm. It took him years to master, but he could work a convo like a pro. Small talk, however, wasn’t his jam. This felt like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“How’s the fam?” Greystone asked.
Dakota chuckled. “Not a talker, huh?”
“No.”
“They’re good.”
Twenty-minutes later, Dakota drove into a residential area of Great Falls, took several turns, then headed down a dirt road carved into a woodsy area, beyond a No Trespassing sign. The road became paved, the trees vanished, and an unmarked warehouse building loomed ahead. No windows, no doors.
Dakota drove around back and stopped in front of an oversized hangar door, tapped a button on his phone, and the metal door silently rose. An entire fleet of identical black vehicles waited in neat rows. Had to be fifteen or twenty. Dakota drove down the empty left lane, parking near a glass door.
Greystone shouldered his backpack, exited the SUV. Instead of walking toward the entrance, Dakota pulled a keyfob from one of the SUVs parked at the end of the line, and handed it to him. Then, he pulled out his phone, snapped a pic the vehicle’s license plate number.
“That’s yours while on assignment,” Dakota explained. “It’s bulletproof, the license plate number isn’t registered with the DMV, so don’t get pulled over. I’m not bailing your ass out of jail.”
“Got it.”
At the entryway, Dakota stood in front of the scanner next to the door. The light flashed yellow.“Retina scan.”
After Greystone’s eyes were scanned, Dakota said, “Say something.”
“Four score and seven years ago.”
Dakota smiled. “I haven’t heard that. Most times I hear, ‘I don’t know what to say.’”
“People are idiots.”
Dakota laughed. “You’re gonna get along great with the team.”
Greystone wasn’t looking for buddies. He wanted to find out what the hell this assignment was. Something so cloaked in mystery that no one at Langley would discuss it with him.
His life had been nothing but a bunch of secrets. His dad kept stuff from his mom. From what he could tell, his mom had her own secrets. His uncle had a shit-ton of ‘em, and their entire dirty business was nothing but secrets.
Fast-forward to now. He worked for two different organizations, both shrouded in so many secrets, he had security clearances coming out his ass.
Again, Dakota stood in front of the scanner. The light turned from red to yellow, but when Greystone stood in front of it, the light turned green, and the glass door slid open.
Dakota gestured for Greystone to enter.
After the men walked inside, Dakota said, “Welcome to BLACK OPS. The Black Site also doubles as our safe house.”
A hit of adrenaline powered through him. Now, things were getting interesting.
Dakota led him down a nondescript hallway. No artwork on the walls, no carpeting on the floor. Boring as fuck, but Greystone liked that. Unlike his brother, Luciano, he wasn’t into fancy. Greystone kept things simple, on purpose. Less to keep track of, less to remember.
