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I rolled my eyes at myself. Sean would be laughing his ass off at me right now. I used to do this all the time in high school. I got the server’s attention and ordered the most decadent dessert on the menu because that was the best way to deal with high school-like angst. I had too much going on in my life to worry about whether or not Marco liked me.
5
Marco
For fuck’s sake. I hated events like this. There were so many people coming and going that it was hard as hell to keep track of who belonged and who didn’t. I texted yet another picture of a server to Michael, who kept up a running commentary in my earpiece. The hotel had refused to give us more than the names of the employees working the event, citing employee privacy.
I got it. I really did. Stephen Gage wasn’t a government official or foreign dignitary, so they couldn’t justify letting us do background checks on the staff. So instead, we were sending Michael pictures that he matched to names via facial-recognition software. So far, nothing unusual had come up. Nothing was connecting any of them to radical pro-life groups.
Michael’s frustration was clear in his voice. “We’ve been at this for two hours. I’m not finding anything. I know there’s something planned, but all these people are clean.”
“You think they’ll slip someone in when we’ve relaxed our guard?”
“That’s my guess,” Michael said glumly.
I scanned the room yet again, putting eyes on Stephen Gage. He was standing at his table talking to a couple of his researchers, a man who looked to be in his thirties and an older woman, likely in her late sixties.
I’d done some reading on Gage’s company and seen that they were looking at using stem cells to repair spinal cord injuries. I thought about my buddy, Craig, who’d ended up in a wheelchair from the same ambush that injured Terry. He was doing okay now. He’d even started learning adaptive skiing. But I knew he’d give anything to be able to walk again. If Gage could do that, so many people could have their lives completely turned around.
“Maybe they decided to abort when they saw all the security,” I said to Michael.
He hummed. “That’s not what I’m seeing. They planned for heavy security. I’m missing something.”
“I doubt it,” I countered. “You never miss anything.”
“Shit!” he exclaimed.
“What?”
“Twins!”
“Um, what?”
“Twins,” he repeated emphatically. “One of the servers has an identical twin brother.”
My phone vibrated with a text from Michael. I opened it to see a picture of a young man, probably early twenties, blond hair, blue eyes. He looked like the all-American boy next door. In my earpiece, I heard Michael say, “That’s Eric Schultz, the server.” A second text came through with another picture. The man was almost identical. There were only slight differences, mostly in their expressions. “That’s his brother, Carl Schultz.”
I heard the clatter of Michael’s fingers flying over the keyboard of his computer. “Carl Schultz broke away from his family and joined an ultra-conservative so-called Christian sect called The Righteous Salvation Church. Every racist, sexist, misogynistic, homophobic, transphobic belief you can imagine is embraced by this congregation.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Text that to everyone so they know what to look for.”
“Will do.” A few seconds later, I saw all my people pull out their cell phones.
“It looks like Eric blocked his brother on all social media after Carl called him a whole bunch of homophobic slurs when he came out as bi,” Michael continued.
My eyes swept the room, looking for the man in question. “So you’re not thinking they’ve joined forces to get past security.”
“No, I think it’s worse,” Michael said grimly. “The church advocates violence to bring God’s kingdom down to Earth.”
“Well, shit. You think he might take out his own brother?” My stomach twisted. I might get pissed at my brothers from time to time, but never in a million years would I consider seriously hurting any of them. I made my way across the room toward Gage. Khamil and Rory were off to the side a bit, closer to the buffet tables, also keeping an eye on the CEO because he asked us not to hover over him.
Michael blew out a breath. “I really hope not, but these religious cults are good at brainwashing their followers.”
I didn’t get a chance to answer. There was a shout and the sound of dishes breaking. Two men were having a fistfight in the middle of the dining room, not far from Gage. They were both blond. One wore the hotel uniform, while the other was in a white T-shirt and boxers. I assumed the brother in the uniform was Carl and the guy in his underwear was the real server, Eric. “Shit. The brother just showed up. Gotta go.” I switched my comms to broadcast to everyone. “It’s the brother. Khamil and Rory grab them both. Everyone else, hold your positions. I’ve got Gage.”
Khamil and Rory headed toward the two men, and I picked up the pace to guard Gage. Before we could get to our positions, another server tackled Eric. Carl tore himself away and ran toward the CEO. I broke into a full-on sprint to intercept. His hand moved, and I saw light glint off steel. “Knife!” I shouted. Gage and his companions froze in fear. Carl shoved the older woman aside, causing her to hit her head on the table as she fell to the floor. I got to Gage just in time to deflect Carl’s knife strike. I clenched my teeth against burning pain as the blade sliced through the jacket and shirt sleeve of my left arm. “Motherfucker! I like this suit!”
The man’s eyes were wide with fury as he raised his knife to strike at me again. But I was ready this time. I blocked Carl’s attack with my injured arm while slamming the fist of my right hand into his face and grabbing the wrist of his weapon hand with my left. His head snapped back, but I grabbed his shoulder, rammed my knee into his gut, and pushed his right arm back so the knife was now behind him. While Carl was doubled over trying to breathe, I yanked his right arm forward, curled my right hand over his closed fist, and pushed it inward until he was forced to open his hand. I tore the knife from him and swept his legs out from under him, throwing him hard onto the floor. I pulled my sidearm out of my shoulder holster and pointed it at his head. “Move one inch, asshole, and I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
