This new threat, this was something different, something Lucas might have an understanding of.
Ben cleared his throat. “East, keep digging. I’ll call Lucas. Drew, you can speak to the Five. Theroux knew exactly how to get access to East, so he knows who we are. Find out if he’s one of us. The Five would know.”
The Five were The Elite’s checks and balances. They were meant to be the least corrupted of our organization. Which was apparently a tall order.
Drew nodded. “Yeah, okay, I’m on it.”
Bridge nodded. "I’ll work some old contacts, see if I can dig anything up."
It was Drew who asked the obvious question. "How exposed are we?"
That was the crux of things. Theroux had burrowed into our fortress of goddamn solitude like it was a gossamer thin veil. He had our number, and he claimed to know exactly what we were planning. I shook my head. “I don’t know yet."
"I don't like it," Ben murmured. “For now, we wait and watch. And we get Agent Kincade off our backs.”
Bridge rubbed at the stubble on his jaw. “We’re on a tightrope, lads. We need to tread carefully.”
Ben nodded. “We do. And we will. Starting with getting Nyla Kincade off our scent.”
“I’m on it. She won’t be a problem.” And she wouldn’t be. I knew just how to deal with her.
2
East
Agent Roger Kincade was a bear of a man. He was tall, about six feet, and broad. Wide. Fit for his age. He looked athletic. I'd put him at 55, maybe. But he had shrewd, hawkish eyes that told me he missed nothing. I had picked the Windsor Club for a reason. It screamed old money. It screamed authoritarian. It screamed ‘my club is better than your club.’ It was meant to shock and awe with its dark paneled wood and genuine gold fixtures.
It was one of the oldest buildings in London. But for all the austerity, there was also a genuine sense of warmth.
Even though he was only a guest, Roger Kincade was greeted like an old friend at the door. I’d picked a vantage point where I could see him walk in. The valet was accommodating, kind, already had his coffee order and asked him if he would like hot towels. Then he was shown directly to my table.
When he arrived, I stood and gave him a smile that should have fallen somewhere between no nonsense and open pleasure. I knew his daughter had gotten her tenacity from somewhere, so I knew he wasn't a man I should play with.
"Section Chief Kincade, it's a pleasure to meet you."
I shook his hand. His grip was firm but not really tight. He was direct, looked me in the eye, and I could see he was a straight shooter.
"I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me this afternoon."
"Well, it didn't seem that I had any choice," he said as he pinned me with a level stare.
"Of course you did. I understand you're busy."
"Mr. Hale, what is it exactly that I can do for you?"
Of course, he was straight to the point, direct to the pot of gold. All right then.
I sat back and watched as he took a bite of the scone that had been brought along with his coffee. The man nearly moaned but managed to school his face after a couple of sips of the Italian roast I knew he preferred. When he cocked his head, a small smile tightened his lips.
"I'll give it to you. You sure know how to treat a guest."
"Well, we try. I won't waste your time. I'm here about your daughter, Nyla, Agent Kincade. She's been looking into our organization. And we need her to stop."
He lifted a brow. "Are we going to name this organization?"
I gave him a small smile. "Don’t be coy. You're in the loop because you're a section chief of Interpol. And your boss's boss's boss, I believe those are the levels, is a member. I could have gone over your head and dropped this request way up the chain of command. But I have a good deal of respect for your daughter. She’s smart, intuitive, tenacious. Jesus Christ, is she tenacious. I need you to impart to her that when it comes to the Elite, she's barking up the wrong tree. There's nothing illegal, or immoral for that matter, happening within the Elite."
"So what, I'm just supposed to put her on the bench?"
"Redirect her efforts, perhaps. I won't go into the reasons for why you would want to comply with this request. I understand that your predecessor picked his battles."
Roger sat back then and folded his hands in his lap. "Lord Hale—"
I put up my hand to interrupt him gently.
"Please. You can just call me East or Mr. Hale. Lord Hale is my father."
"All right, Mr. Hale, then. I don't really care about your organization. You lot run around being London power brokers or whatever, and it doesn't affect me or influence me. I don't care. And I want to make it perfectly clear that I don't care how many times you invite me to the fancy inner circle. If you do something illegal, I will stop you. As long as there's nothing illegal happening, I don't care what you do. You can keep your organization secret. But, if I find out that you're stepping your toe out of line, I'm going to take the leash off Nyla, and I guarantee you, I have sixty more agents just like her.”
"Excellent, Roger, that's what I wanted to hear. Now, if you don't mind, reassign Agent Kincade to something, anything else so that she can focus less on our organization and move forward."
His gaze studied mine for a long moment. Assessing, as if trying to see what my angle was, what else I wanted. "And if I don't comply?”
I shrugged. "That's up to your boss's boss's boss to decide. I won't threaten you. I won't threaten your daughter. That’s not what I'm here for. I'm in essence asking for a favor. From a citizen who has done nothing wrong. I just don't want your daughter picking at things she has no business picking at only to find that, while nothing illegal is happening, she's unearthing centuries of long-buried secrets. And that knowledge could be potentially dangerous to her."
Nyla
I’d taken great care with my makeup that morning. It had been a little tricky to cover up the bruise along my cheek, but I just wore my hair down, styling it artfully to cover up most of the bruise and then taking care of the rest with makeup, so I didn’t have to get too heavy-handed.
What I couldn’t cover up was how I winced every time I had to walk. When I’d fallen, I’d taken a bump to my head, which was the kind of pain that most people only read about. Bone deep and jarring with every damn step. I couldn’t even stand to wear heels, so I’d slipped on some flats. But flats hardly felt like the body armor I was going to need. Obviously, it was a tough day because it was new assignments day. And my father, well, he wasn’t inclined to give me any choice pickings. God forbid he looked like he was playing favorites.
I dragged open the heavy glass door to the London Interpol Offices, ready to do the whole scan and swipe thing to get past security when I caught sight of the group gathered in the lobby and skidded to a halt.
My stupid fuckwit ex, Denning Sinclair, also known as the man who had stolen my job as Associate Section Chief, was playing prolonged tonsil hockey with his new love… whom Amelia had dubbed ‘the teenager’ on account of her being so damn young. She was some kind of graduate student. Just what I needed today.