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Now Maison is saying that Scott Quinton has discovered that Mathew Davis is Maison Beckett.
Which means Scott Quinton figured out that Carter Beckett is Maison Beckett’s little brother. The enemy’s greatest weakness.
Shit.
Nathan takes a slow, deep breath. This could end their operation if mishandled. This could also end Carter’s life. Maison has gone off the deep end, which is fucking understandable, but Nathan can’t do the same. He has to be the rational one here. He needs to step up to the plate for his commander and be the man to think clearly right now. Nathan has to keep his shit together.
First things first, “How did you find out he’s gone?”
“I got a fucking email from the bastard. To my regular email. Can you believe that shit? He just sent it. Plain as day. Right there with my fucking junk mail! I didn’t even fucking know Carter was missing. How long has he been missing? They sent the email just now but who knows how long they’ve had him! They – I didn’t – I can’t-”
“Focus, Mais. Stay with me. What did the email say?”
“It’s – it’s fucking pictures, man. They sent me pictures of him. So many – just – just all of these fuckingpictures.”
Nathan closes his eyes. He can only imagine what those pictures must be like. “Forget the pictures right now, Maison. What else did the email say?”
There’s an awful pause. Then, “We win.”
“They haven’t won. Theywon’t. We aren’t going to let them.”
“They took Carter!” Maison yells, quickly nearing hysterics. “They took my baby brother from me!”
“And I’ll get him back,” Nathan promises, even though that’s not a promise he should be making. “I’ll fucking get him back, Mais. I swear to you. On my fucking life, I swear to you that I’ll get Carter back.”
There’s a long pause, punctuated by a hitched breath. “Find him, Travis. I need you to find him.”
Nathan nods. “I’ll call you when I do.”
???
It turns out that Nathan doesn’t have to look far. Scott Quinton was the man who stumbled upon a trail that led him to Maison Beckett – and therefore to Carter Beckett – but he’s not one of the men Maison is after. Quinton is the premier seller of humans in the European markets. That means he’s not even in Maison’s top 10. As far as Maison’s operation is concerned, Quinton is Europe’s problem. He’s barely on Maison’s radar. Would Maison have recognized him if he was calm and Nathan had jogged his memory? Yes. But it would be a vague recognition. A name that had been tossed around on the sidelines. Nothing more.
Quinton taking Carter wasn’t personal. It was beneficial. This means he’s not keeping him as a trophy.
He’s going to sell the boy to Maison’s enemies.
There’s an email waiting for Nathan the moment he opens his secure account.
From Scott Quinton.
Subject line:We Win.
A long list of men Nathan rubs elbows with regularly also received the email. Quinton knows he’s going to make a fucking fortune off of this poor young man. He’s spreading the news far and wide in celebration, starting the email off with the information he recently discovered and the identity of the boy they would see pictures of below.
This was always the risk Maison ran. He knew it. They all knew it. The point of the operation was to be stealthy, which meant Maison needed to be a loud, easy target for everyone to focus on. What better way to keep the true threat a secret than by presenting a false one loud and fucking clear right before their eyes? No one would ever suspect the man shaking hands and laughing over scotch with them, not when Maison is out there making his cause known. But that was when Maison was Mathew Davis. Mathew Davis, who had no family. Mathew Davis, who had no ties to anyone. Mathew Davis, who had no weak spots.
Mathew Davis, who had no baby brother he sees as his entire world.
But now they’ve found out his true identity.
They’ve found his baby brother.
Nathan would never say it, especially at a time like this, but this exact situation is why men like Maison shouldn’t be involved in such operations. Only true ghosts like Nathan can really slip into the world of pretend. As Travis Kenton, Nathan was a nobody with no family, no friends, no social ties, and no weak spots. He didn’t even have a home. The CIA snatched him up just weeks after his Army basic training, told him about a great opportunity where he’d make more money and have less rules, and offered him a new identity. A newlife. He became Nathan Roarke on a windy fall morning while standing in the basement of an abandoned building in Langley, Virginia. And it was easy to make the transition. Travis was nothing. Nathan was nothing too.
Then they began to build Nathan from scratch.
They began to build him into the man he is today.
