Projects. She said it like it was something she’d chosen to do at school, not that she’d been violently abducted and forced for months to do someone else’s bidding.
Callum now looked at Ian. “We captured two people in the middle of crimes. Toxicology, blood work, and medical tests suggest genetic modifications and chemical subjectification.”
Ian sat up straighter. “Like what was done to Wavy and Bronwyn Rourke.”
Jenna got paler as Callum nodded. “Yes.”
“That can’t be right,” Ian said. “We took out Mosaic. Disbanded them completely. There’s no way they’re still in the human trafficking business.”
Mark placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder in support. Even thinking about what had happened to his wife still tore Ian up, despite Wavy making an almost complete recovery. Former Zodiac agent Bronwyn Rourke had been subjected to similar abuse by Mosaic and would wear the mental scars from her ordeal for the rest of her life.
Saying Mosaic—a pretty word for an ugly group of terrorists—was back in operation was akin to telling Ian he’d be going back to the front line of a particularly brutal war.
“No, not Mosaic,” Callum replied. “But it’s another group using similar methods.”
Ian relaxed slightly, but Jenna didn’t. “What do you want from me?” she asked. “I can’t go out into the field.”
“Nobody—at least no good guys—know this research better than you.” Mark caught Jenna’s flinch. Callum hadn’t meant to, but he’d just lumped her in with the criminals. “We need you to look at the data—medical tests, autopsy reports—and tell us what we’re missing. Tell us how we can stop what’s happening. The data can be sent to you for you to work remotely.”
“You don’t have to this,” Craig told his sister when Jenna didn’t respond.
Callum narrowed his eyes. “You should also know—”
“Shut up, Webb,” Craig said again.
“—that as thanks for your assistance, your brother would be reinstated as an active FBI agent. He’d no longer be relegated to data analysis.”
Jenna’s eyes flew to Craig’s. “Is this true?”
He leaned forward. “What it is, is irrelevant. I’m happy in my job as an analyst. I’m doing good work there. Important work. I won’t let them blackmail you into doing something you don’t want to do.”
All information now on the table, everyone looked at one another for a long moment.
“I’ll do it.” Jenna’s voice was much calmer than Mark expected.
Craig shook his head. “Jenna, you don’t—”
She held up a hand to stop her brother. “No, I’ll do it. You getting reinstated as an active agent is a bonus. I helped make this mess. I need to help clean it up.”
“Thank you,” Callum said. “Your expertise will make a huge difference. The terrorist group we’re up against—”
She held up her hand once more. “No offense, but I don’t want to know. The last time your team needed my help they didn’t give a shit about what it cost me.”
Callum grimaced. “You’re talking about what happened with Agent Wilson.”
Callum continued when Jenna didn’t respond. “Look, Wilson went off on his own with that stunt. I would never condone the measures he used to—”
Mark clenched his hands into fists. He’d been there for what had happened with Wilson. He’d seen how much it had cost Jenna.
“I don’t care if you condoned it or not,” Jenna said. “I’ll look through the intel you provide and give you my report on the physical findings. But beyond that, I want nothing to do with you or the case.” She turned to Ian. “Excuse me, I need out of this booth.”
Ian got up so she could slide out, and Jenna walked to the other side of the bar.
“She’s tying all our hands by refusing to look at the big picture,” Callum muttered.
“You got what you want, Webb, so count your blessings.” Craig stood up. “I’m going to talk with my sister.”
Ian slid over so Mark could sit beside him. They both looked over at Callum. He was a good guy, but right now, that wasn’t evident.
“Craig is right,” Ian said. “Even only focusing on some of the intel, Jenna will provide you more assistance than most people could with every bit of the information.”
“If you say so.” Callum rubbed his eyes. “It seems like she’s overreacting. I know she has trauma from her captivity and doesn’t like to be around other people or go outside. But it’s not like Wilson dragged her out of her house at gunpoint.”
Mark glared at the man. “I saw it. You didn’t. That fucker Wilson did a lot of damage, even if it wasn’t physical.”
Ian nodded. “Jenna hasn’t been actively working for Zodiac since then. She wanted extended leave.”
Callum leaned against the back of the booth. He looked exhausted. “Look, I’m not trying to be the resident asshole. I don’t want to see anyone traumatized, but we need help. People are dying. I came to you because I knew you were invested because of what happened with Wavy and Bronwyn. I thought Jenna would be too.”
Mark looked over at where Jenna was talking to Craig. Her features were still pinched and pale. “She is invested. But her involvement comes at a high price. Nobody should forget that.”
“Tell us what you know about the traffickers,” Ian demanded.
Callum wiped a hand down his face. “The agent who was killed was undercover in Joaquin Martinez’s organization.”
Both Mark and Ian sat up straighter. Joaquin Martinez—he and his organization generally known as just Joaquin—was definitely as ruthless as Mosaic had been. Perhaps his organization wasn’t as big, but he was smart, efficient, and brutal—an ugly combination.
“We have intel thanks to the micro transmitter Zodiac was able to place on him at that wedding in the islands last year. But he discovered it and our agent a few days ago. Transmitter and agent came back to us in pieces.”
“Shit,” Ian muttered.
Zodiac had been happy to help with the undercover mission, but damn, it sucked it had resulted in someone’s death.
“Before we lost our guy, we got word about Joaquin’s latest venture—a genetics research lab. Human subjects being brainwashed through chemical subjectification and gene editing and then being controlled by him.”
Ian bit out a curse. That was exactly what had happened when Zodiac Tactical had been battling Mosaic.
Mark scrubbed a hand down his face. “What is he using them for?”
“The two we know about so far were both used for theft. One—white male, twenty-three years old—broke in to a jewelry store in Sacramento. One—black female, twenty years old—hit a pawn shop in Dallas. Both killed themselves when they were about to be taken into custody.”
That wasn’t what Mark had been expecting. “Killing themselves seems like overkill for a break-in.”
Callum nodded. “Our undercover man was able to get us enough intel that we knew they were both victims of the brainwashing—postmortem blood and tox reports confirmed. I’m not sure we would’ve ever linked the two together otherwise.”