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“Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Justice Seth Morrison!” The roar of applause brought people to their feet as the tall, white-haired man took the stage. Having lost his wife to a stroke six years prior, he had the sympathy vote from many. He was the poor widower with no children, devoted to his country. He gripped Judge’s hand, pulling him close.
“Something is wrong with Maxine,” he whispered in his friend’s ear. “Step outside and figure it out. We don’t need that damn daughter of yours causing trouble.”
Spencer plastered a smile on his face, nodding at his old friend. When he reached the table, he took his wife’s hand with a smile and led her to the back of the room, stepping into the hallway.
“What the hell is wrong?” he asked. “We’ve got a thousand people in there eating out of the palm of my hand, and you’re busy looking at your phone like you can’t figure out the word of the day.”
“The house exploded, Spencer. The entire house. Everything is gone. All of it was blown to pieces, and they left a message that the New York State Police would like to speak to us about,” she said. He took a step back, staring at her in disbelief. It wasn’t possible.
“No. That can’t be. The safes are fireproof. It should all be fine.”
“They are when they’re closed,” she said, holding up her phone. “This is from the Police Chief. All of the safes were opened, Spencer. All of them. There is nothing inside. They’re classifying it as a robbery, but we both know that’s not true. Everything is gone. The files, the watches, the jewelry, all of it.”
“We don’t know anything, for fuck’s sake! The better question is, who the hell was able to break into those safes.”
“You and I both know who is capable of that. The concerning question is, how did they know what we had?”
“There’s only one way. They must have spoken to Harlow, or they have her.”
“That man. That man that took her at Quinn’s last party. I thought he looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it at the time. He took her into his office, and then she disappeared. It must have been him. He must have moved her.”
“You shouldn’t have let her out of your sight!”
“Me? You created this mess, Spencer. You. I gave one daughter to Garvin and Morrison and their appetites,” she said with disgust. “I was prepared to offer a second. So, don’t question my dedication to the cause. Do you have copies of the files on REAPER?”
“No.” He stared down at her, then back at the doors of the banquet room. “No, I don’t, and he’s going to be pissed.”
“Maybe we can find them again,” she said. “You found them and their sons through bribing someone within military records. We can do it again.”
“Maybe,” he frowned. “The problem is that person is gone, and I’d have to start all over. I can’t even remember all the names. What we really need to do is find Harlow. If she’s mixed up in this, she knows more than she thinks. They’ll question her until they find it.”
“I won’t go to jail for you, Spencer. I’ll do just about anything else. I’ve fucked Garvin, Seth, and even that animal Quetz, but I won’t go to jail for you.”
“Are you threatening me?” he asked, gripping her upper arm. She tried to pull her arm free, only forcing him to grip tighter. “Don’t you ever threaten me again. You forget what I know about my lovely wife. I go down. You go down. Don’t forget that.”
The truth was that they were only together because they knew everything about one another. She had dirt on him; he had dirt on her; and it was the dirtiest kind of dirt you could have. They would be crucified in the public eye if everything was known. So would their friend inside that banquet room.
He released her arm, re-entering the banquet room just as applause erupted again for Morrison. Taking his seat, he’d explain to his friend later what had happened. It wouldn’t be easy, but they would find a way to get to the men of REAPER and their family. More importantly, they would own G.R.I.P. and her secrets or destroy it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The men walked into the auditorium just as the morning meeting was starting. They set box after box of watches and jewelry on the table, then dozens of files. Trak slowly stood and reached for a folder that contained photographs. It was them. All of them. The seniors mostly, but some of the younger generation. Wives, children, husbands.
“They’ve been following us,” he frowned. “They’ve all been following us.”
“How? How did they know who we were and where we were?” asked Cam.
“I don’t think they did,” said Bodwick. “I think they’ve had contract help out there to try and track down G.R.I.P. That’s really what they want.”
“They want to own the weapons manufacturing arena. They want it to be solely controlled and owned by the U.S. government, and if they can make that happen before the election, all the better,” said Miller. “If Morrison is elected, he’ll ensure that it’s owned by them and controlled by them.”
“Does he realize that we would leave?” said Doug. “I won’t work for him or the government. I refuse. I’ve done my time for Uncle Sam, and I won’t do it again, knowing what they would do with our technologies.”
“I feel the same,” said Paige. Ryan gripped her hand, nodding.
“You know that we’re gone if that happens,” said Thomas, holding onto May.
“We know, and we appreciate it. They wouldn’t know what to do with G.R.I.P. They’d have our technology that is already created, but they won’t have what we have in the pipeline.”
