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The members of the Masters’ Admiralty were afraid. They were powerful, a type of power that came from wealth and access. Power didn’t make them immune from death—Eric knew that better than anyone—but most of them weren’t used to being afraid for their lives. They were afraid now, and that fear made their already weakened society even more vulnerable. The way to fix that was to show the members that everything was fine—even if that was a lie.
The first step in maintaining that fiction was making sure each of the nine admirals were focused and in control. Eric was sure this same thing had occurred to his enemy, which meant the admirals were targets. Sending them into hiding, or safe houses, would be a sign of weakness. That meant he needed each of those nine men and women out front and center, running the society, and appearing calm, cool, and collected.
That’s why if there were any threats to an admiral or their trinity, the vice admirals were instructed to keep it quiet, and inform him immediately. He hadn’t specifically told the vice admirals to keep the admirals in the dark, but Lorelei was smart and dangerous. She knew people couldn’t be objective when it came to the people they loved—no one could; that’s how you knew it was love. Eric had decided to withhold information about the attempted kidnapping from Arthur and his spouses. Lorelei had, reluctantly, followed orders. She didn’t like keeping information from her admiral, but she knew better than to question him. Actually Lorelei would have no problem questioning anyone. Which meant she agreed, at least temporarily, with his decision, and hadn’t told Arthur, while Lennon and England’s security team quietly investigated.
Eric had used the time to plan how to go AWOL from Triskelion Castle.
“Thank you, Fleet Admiral. And…you’re going to tell Arthur, correct?”
Eric grimaced. The admiral of England was not going to be happy that Eric had kept this a secret. He was going to be even more pissed that his own people had kept him in the dark. If he was better at this whole leadership thing, Eric wouldn’t care, but the truth was, Arthur was his friend, and one of the only people he trusted without reservation.
That was tomorrow’s problem. What he needed to do now was to stop playing a defensive game. He turned so he couldn’t see the prisoner and was facing Charlie. “I need your help.”
“What do you need, Fleet Admiral?”
“We need to find the sniper’s wife, Alicia Rutherford. This—” Eric gestured to the interrogation room and the pathetic excuse for a man within. “He’s a pawn. A dangerous, psychotic pawn, but just a pawn. The sniper’s wife…she’s a bigger piece. Which means she might know more.”
“You want me to question her?”
“You have to find her first.”
“That’s not my specialty, but I can do it.”
“I have someone else I’d already planned to send. You’ll go with him.”
“Send?” Charlie frowned. “Send where?”
“That is problem number one. She fled to America.”
“Fookin’ Yanks.”
“Problem number two. The person I’m sending you with isn’t…he isn’t like us,” Eric said softly.
“He’ll object to my methods.”
“Yes. He believes in things like the Geneva Convention.”
“That would be nice,” Charlie said with a snort.
“If you can, bring her back here,” Eric said. “If you can’t, do what you need to do. Find out what the hell is going on. We need names of other apprentices or dominos or whatever the fuck they’re calling themselves.”
“That kind of information…that’s longer-term questioning. If I don’t have that kind of time, what’s the priority?”
“The why,” Eric said darkly. “Figure out what the hell they want. Why they’re doing this.”
Charlie looked surprised. “Not names?”
“If we know why, if we have even one fucking clue, my PhD cats will be able to figure out the rest.”
“Your…what?”
“Never mind. I’m sending you with Hugo Marchand to America, but don’t tell him who you are.”
Charlie’s brows rose. “Undercover?”
Eric smiled. “How would you feel about being a knight?”
Chapter Two
