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“Quite the storyteller,” Marcela says. I notice she has a sly smile on her face. We haven’t had a chance to talk about everything yet. The distance I created between us has been miserable and lonely. I take a chance and smile back at her. When she doesn’t instantly turn away or stop smiling, I hold onto hope that we can get back to us.
“Stick with me, my feisty friend,” Alexie directs at Marcela. “I am full of many stories. I only hope they bring you as much joy as that one.”
Marcela’s smile grows larger, and a soft laugh slips out.How does he have such an ability to charm everyone?The tension in the room seems to break for a moment.Everything feels right as I sit at this table with my team, my family, but there always has to be one party pooper. Today it’s Stryker.
“As much as I know we all wish we could ignore the shit going on outside of this house, we have a real problem,” Stryker informs us in a firm tone. Everyone turns their attention towards him as his seriousness brings us back to reality. Stryker directs everyone to sit at the table, and we all comply. Alexie is sitting between BJ and me. Stryker takes his seat at the head of the table to our left, and King takes the opposite end. Marcela is directly across from me with Conrad by Stryker.
Once we’re all seated, Stryker nods to Conrad, who turns his laptop around, showing us a picture of Agent Walter Ingram on the screen. King, Marcela, BJ, and I all trade curious glances.Why is Ingram being brought up?The guy was definitely a little creepy, especially on my first day, but he brought everyone at this table together.
“Volkov, does this man look familiar to you?” Stryker asks. Marcela and King sit up straighter in their seats as their eyes focus on Alexie, waiting for his answer. Alexie leans forward and squints his eyes to get a better view of Conrad’s screen.
“I’ve never seen that man before. Who is he?” Alexie replies.
“This is Agent Walter Ingram. He’s the head of The Elite,” Stryker answers. He then pauses, takes a deep breath, and continues, “He’s our mole.”
WHAT!?
“Wh-wha-what? Ingram? How can that be?” BJ asks frantically.
“Tread carefully, Stryker,” King demands. “You’re talking about a fellow member of this team. That man,” King points at Conrad’s screen, “has shed blood with us. He brought us together.”
King’s out of his chair so fast it almost falls backwards. He stomps to the wall behind him and leans his back against it. His eyes are focused on the ceiling as he takes a deep breath. No one says or does anything as we all wait for the rest of King’s reaction.
“Explain!” King’s eyes shoot to Conrad. “Right now, Conrad. You better have a damn good fucking reason to accuse Ingram of being a mole,” King shouts.
Conrad looks to Stryker, who holds up a hand to Conrad to stop him from speaking. “I’ll tell you, King, since it’s me making the accusation,” Stryker tells him.
King’s back leaves the wall as he leans forward until both hands are resting firmly on the back of his chair. His fingers curl into the chair so tightly that I’m waiting for them to break through the wooden back.
“I went to see Ingram this morning,” Stryker starts. “And my first hint was that he never asked about BJ. He knew we were looking for her but was never told that she was found. We kept it a secret in case she was being directly targeted.”
A loud bang coming from one end of the table draws everyone's attention. BJ is now holding her hand tenderly because she just slammed her fist on the table. “That son of a bitch!” BJ shouts. “I brought him homemade chicken noodle soup when he was sick. My famous soup!” BJ is massaging her hand when Alexie reaches over, taking her hand in his, and gently begins to rub it for her.
“Not just soup,” BJ goes on, “I always decorated his office for his birthday, and I even made his favorite cupcakes. Red velvet.” A sharp breath escapes her nostrils. I’m more surprised it wasn’t steam that came out. “I don’t even like red velvet, but I wanted to make sure he knew someone cared about him on his birthday.”
“I’ll kill him for you.” My eyes dart to my other side, King’s words chilling me to the core. “If he is behind you getting hurt, almost killed, I’ll make him suffer before finally taking his life.”
A small smile forms on BJ’s face as she looks at King. “I always knew you were a softy, but once again, I’m afraid it looks like there will be a long line,” she tells him.
“I like this group,” Alexie states. “Killing someone for a friend. What a great way to say ’I love you’.”
Everyone at the table is silent, as though they are processing the conversations that just occurred. “We really are a fucked up team of misfits. Perfect,” BJ comments. This messed up Hallmark movie moment is quickly interrupted by Stryker clearing his throat. “Sorry, Boss-man, continue,” BJ grimaces as she speaks.
“As I was saying to myteam of misfits,” Stryker says with a smile. “That isn’t the only thing. He said, no, he demanded we get off this‘Bratva’ case and shoved a stack of new ones in my face.”
Everyone at the table appears puzzled except for Conrad and Stryker. We knew Ingram wanted us off this case, this isn’t anything new. Stryker answers our puzzled expressions with, “We never told him we suspected the Bratva to be behind anything. Details were never discussed, and when we sent him ‘all’ our notes and data that we compiled. Conrad made sure to leave out any real leads we had.”
There’s a stunned silence around the table. Ingramisthe mole. The only way he could have known about the Bratva, or Volkov’s involvement is if he were involved himself. His part in all of this only brings more questions.
“Why?” I ask the simple question.
“We don’t know,” Conrad replies, looking right at me. Damn, those honey-brown eyes behind his dark-rimmed glasses.Focus, Nat.“Stryker just told me about this when he got back.”
Stryker stands from the table to start giving out orders. “Right now, we don’t know his motives, but we will find out. Conrad, I want a complete deep dive. Break all clearance levels. Alexie, if you have any informants, and only ones you can trust, use them.” Alexie nods. “King and Marcela, use only contacts you had before joining The Elite. It is crucial Ingram does not catch wind of anything.” With that, Marcela and King get up, talking about potential informants as they exit.
BJ and I are still sitting there, waiting for our orders. Stryker looks at us and says, “BJ, Ingram doesn’t know if you are alive or dead, and I want to keep it that way. I’m sorry, but you’re on lockdown.” BJ opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She knows he’s right. “We’ll get Lane to a safe location as well,” he confirms, and BJ lets out a sigh of relief.
“What about me?” I ask.
