Chapter 9
OVER AN hour later, Sloane was in even more of a foul mood, if that was possible.
According to Recon, Allan’s information from the CDC Therian registration office had come in seconds after the Therian Youth Center bomb went off, meaning it had been put aside, priority falling to the youth center, as it should. Themis had run its algorithms, showing Isaac Pearce had visited the center a few weeks before planting the bomb. He had signed in under a random name, worn a different disguise, and done exactly what he had the second time he’d visited. Sloane’s guess was he’d been casing the joint, doing a test run of sorts. Isaac was smart. He wouldn’t have gone in blind. Themis also found what Isaac had been doing on his tablet. He’d been accessing the registration office’s network and their files, namely Morelli’s.
Sloane stalked toward his office and tapped his earpiece. “Rosa, Morelli’s registration file led Isaac to the Therian Youth Center. Apparently, Morelli had spent some time there when he was a teen. I’m willing to bet he had a file there as well, and Isaac accessed it before he set off the explosion. I want to know what was in that file.”
“I’m on it,” Rosa replied.
Maddock’s voice came over his earpiece. “I want everyone listening to this to meet in briefing room ‘A’ right now. Don’t care what the hell you’re doing, get in here.”
Sloane hurried to the briefing room, his eyes instinctively landing on Dex. Their eyes met before Dex turned away to face the front of the room. Ignoring the jab, Sloane took a seat behind him. He wouldn’t let his partner’s brooding stop him from getting on with his job. The room filled with agents from Beta Pride and Beta Ambush, including Agent Taylor. Although plenty of seats remained empty around the huge semicircle conference table, Taylor decided he was going to sit in front of Dex.
“All right everyone, settle down.” Maddock stood behind the podium at the front of the room and tapped his tablet. A video player appeared on the large flat screen TV positioned high on the wall behind him. “This video was uploaded on a Humans 4 Dominance forum that popped up a couple of days ago. Intel has been monitoring it since it launched, but until now, it was mostly a bunch of idiots talking trash. A few minutes ago, Themis sounded the alert.” He tapped his tablet and the video played.
They all watched in uncomfortable silence as what started as a sunny, serene day on a quiet street turned into a war zone. Every minute of the horrific Therian Youth Center bombing was there in gory HD. At the end, Maddock switched over to the forum.
“Have you read the comments?” Ash asked from across the table, shaking his head in disgust as he scrolled through the forum on his tablet.
“Don’t,” Dex said, his jaw muscles clenching. “It’s better if you don’t. Let Themis read that shit. It’ll only make you want to hit something, preferably one of those assholes’ faces.”
“What kind of sick bastards get off on watching shit like this?”
Dex turned his attention back to Maddock. “More importantly, whoever uploaded this was there. Do we know who it was?”
Maddock brought up a large black screen with undecipherable white text scrolling at unreadable speeds. “Themis is trying to pinpoint a location, but it looks like it was uploaded via cell phone. We should have the owner any second now. There we go.”
The screen flashed and a second narrow screen slid in from the side with a John Doe avatar instead of a photograph, along with a name. Themis continued to scan for more information, but came up with nothing.
“Looks like we’ve got a name. Dr. H Freedman. No visual, driver’s license, or social security.” Maddock frowned down at his screen.
Damn. Sloane sure as hell hoped they got something. A GPS setting, IP address, something. Whoever had uploaded the video knew what they were doing.
“We’ve got an address,” Maddock declared.
Maybe not. One mistake, that was all they needed, and they could nail this bastard.
“All right. Everyone, suit up, and head out. Destructive Delta, you’re going in. Agent Taylor, Agent Stone, you and your teams are going in as backup since Destructive Delta is down three agents since Agent Simmons won’t be in until tomorrow. “Keep me informed. I want this Dr. Freedman brought in.”
Sloane hurried out of the room along with everyone else, aware of Dex close behind. They’d yet to say a word to each other. Rosa came running up to him and he welcomed the distraction. “Give me something, Rosa.”
“This isn’t looking good. According to the Therian Youth Center’s head organizer—Dr. Michaels, the network was completely fried by the explosion, and the backup files would be accessible through their corporate office, but when I called the corporate office, I was told they no longer had access due to security restrictions and were waiting for clearance from the founder. I decided to cut the middle man and get a hold of the founder, except, whoever they are, they don’t exist.”
Sloane stopped in his tracks. “What do you mean they don’t exist?”
“Well, they exist on paper. Everything is meticulous and thorough. All the paperwork is legit, except there doesn’t seem to be a body to go along with the information provided. Every phone number I call leads me to another number, which leaves me to another message. One big loop de nada.”
“So suddenly there’s a lockdown on the files and the founder goes missing, if he or she ever existed. Fantastic.” He hurried out of the department to catch up with the rest of their agents, annoyed when his eyes continually strayed to Dex, as if his body couldn’t stand not making some kind of contact with him, even if it was just visual. “Rosa, I want you to tell Intel to keep trying. I want some goddamn answers.” The elevator was full, but Sloane pushed in, finding himself squeezed in against Dex, the top of his head under Sloane’s chin. Sloane closed his eyes, silently urging the elevator to get moving. It didn’t help that he could smell Dex’s shampoo, or feel the softness of his hair when Dex shifted. It especially didn’t help when someone decided to squeeze in at the last minute, forcing Dex back against Sloane, their bodies pressed together.
Sloane hated how he was starting to doubt himself. Had he made the right decision? Was he willing to give in to see Dex smile again? Get your shit together, Brodie. He wasn’t going to stop being Team Leader, or running his team the way he always had because he’d gotten into a fight with his lover. If he gave in now, what kind of message would he be giving Dex? That he could get away with what he wanted because they were sleeping together? The elevator pinged, and Sloane all but fled. He had more pressing matters to deal with. The rest would have to wait. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
DR. FREEDMAN’S house was located on the Upper East Side of Manhattan in a residential neighborhood lined with fenced-in trees, expensive brownstones sporting flowerbeds in bloom, and luxury cars parked alongside pristine sidewalks. Agents from Beta Ambush approached the house while the rest searched the perimeter, and each end of the street was blocked by their backup teams’ BearCats. Sloane waited with his team in formation behind the safety of their own truck, rifles in their hands. The moment Beta Ambush breached the front door, Sloane gave the order, and they rushed up the steps and into the house. They spread out, checking all the rooms, under beds, in closets, anywhere anyone could hide. One by one, his team confirmed their status until the house was declared clear.
Sloane scanned what was once an elegant-looking living room. The large room was decorated in cream and brown hues with dark accents. The windows were light and airy, expensive rugs covered the hardwood floors. Bookshelves were tucked into the walls to each side of the fireplace, though it was empty of books. In fact, every surface in the room had been cleared of its contents, the evidence scattered on the floor all around them. Lamps had been knocked over, coffee tables upturned, throw pillows slashed along with couch cushions. The place was a disaster.
Ash gave a low whistle. “Looks like the doc left in a hurry.”
“I’m not so sure about that. It looks more like it’s been ransacked. All right, I want this place searched inside out. I want to know who this guy is, if he’s part of the Order, where he might be heading, does he have family, friends, everything, and I want it yesterday, so move your asses.” Sloane stalked off into the next room, rounding the corner when he heard Letty’s concerned voice.
“Damn, what’s up with him?”
“He and Daley got into a lover’s quarrel,” Ash grumbled.
Dex’s reply was a low, “Fuck you, Ash.”
There was movement around the room before Rosa piped up. “You guys fighting?”
“It’s nothing,” Dex muttered, followed by more shuffling, before Dex let out a heavy sigh. Rosa was undoubtedly giving him “that look.” “Okay, yes, we got into a fight.”
Sloane told himself he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but then again if his team was going to carry on this conversation as if he couldn’t hear it, then it wasn’t his fault. Rosa spoke up in her usual no-nonsense tone.
“You need to make up.”
Dex scoffed. “Says who?”
“Listen up, Rookie. You do not want to have him giving orders while he’s pissed. He’s an absolute miserable fuck. I love him, but it’s the truth.”
Thanks, Rosa.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. He’s the one who tore me a new one for doing my job. Yes, I went against orders, but I was right to. I’m not budging on this.”
“Carajo, you two are so stubborn.”
Sloane had heard enough. If Dex truly thought he hadn’t done anything wrong then nothing Sloane said was going to change his mind. If anyone was being stubborn, it was Dex. He walked into the bedroom, which was in the same ransacked state as the living room. The queen-sized mattress had been pulled off the bed, its stuffing strewn everywhere. Drawers were open or upended, clothes, shoes, ties, scattered everywhere. However, what stood out the most was that there was nothing personal in the room. No photographs, artwork, nothing that could help him get a profile together of who lived here. He rummaged through the disorderly dresser, but found nothing except men’s clothing. All he knew about this doctor was that he was a size “Medium.”
On the opposite wall, a closet stretched from one end to the other, its wood louvered doors pulled wide open. He found a light switch, not surprised to find the closet had been searched as well. Inspecting the contents of the closet, he met with another dead end. Nothing but clothes, shoes, belts, and hats, most of it on the floor or dangling precariously off hangers. He checked pockets, but came up empty. Who the hell was this guy? And why was he so careful? Sloane was about to turn off the light, when he noticed something black and furry on the floor in the corner. It looked like it had fallen from somewhere. Picking it up, he found it was a toy. Wait….
“Oh my God.” A lump formed in his throat as he stared at the stuffed toy of a black jaguar. It couldn’t be. And yet…. He held the toy in his gloved hands, thinking about how much bigger it used to be. Then again, the last time he’d held it, he’d been smaller. It still had its white bandages around each paw, and Sloane swallowed hard. With a shaking hand, he turned it over, inhaling sharply at the white tag under its tail with the initials S.B. written in black marker. The letters were slightly faded and worn, but they were there, and they were his.
“Hey, you okay?”
Sloane held the toy behind him before Ash came into view. He nodded at his friend. “Yeah, um, see if you can find a photograph, or something we can use to physically identify this guy.”
Ash cocked his head to one side, his expression one of concern. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, fine.”
As soon as Ash left, Sloane removed his backpack and stuffed the toy inside. He quickly zipped it up and clipped it back into place. He didn’t know how the hell this had gotten here, or if it really was what he thought it was, but he needed to find out.
Letty’s voice came in over his earpiece. “Sloane, we found something.”
Sloane hurried through the house and into a large office where his team was gathered. It was in a worse state than the other rooms.
“Well, the guy definitely had something to do with the center, but….” Rosa held up a handful of invoices. “Tax write-offs. The guy donates to the center every month. Has been for years.”
Dex shook his head, puzzled. “Why would he blow up a center he donates money to?”
“Not just money,” Rosa said, shuffling through the paperwork in her hands. “Clothes, video games, gift cards. Hell, one year he donated six computers. His last donation was three weeks ago. Kids’ furniture. Four bunk beds, two desks, beanbag chairs…. This guy was a saint. This makes no sense.”
“It’s starting to,” Sloane said. “I’m thinking kidnapping. Someone was looking for something, something they thought this guy had.”
Ash frowned. “I don’t get it. Isaac plants the bomb then sets out to frame him? But he had to know we’d come looking for the guy. If he needs this doctor, wouldn’t he want us not trying to track the guy down?”
Sloane was getting really tired of going in circles. “Whatever Isaac’s reason, it undoubtedly figures into his plan. We need to find out why Isaac would want Dr. Freedman. Goddamn it, we need to know what Isaac found at the youth center. Either Morelli was the means to finding Dr. Freedman, or Freedman has information on Morelli that Isaac wants. Either way, the two are connected. Keep digging.” He tapped his earpiece and had the switchboard patch him through to Maddock. “Sarge, we aren’t going to get anywhere if we can’t get access to the youth center files. Everything leads back to Morelli, and I have a suspicion this doctor knows something. The guy’s gone. I’m willing to bet Isaac got his hands on him, and if that’s the case, he led us here for a reason. Why are we being kept in the goddamn dark?”
“I’m working on it, but I keep getting the runaround from Lieutenant Sparks. I don’t know what the hell is going on.”
“Well someone better tell me something, because I’ve had about enough of this bullshit.”
Maddock’s voice was low, the warning subtle. “Take it easy, Sloane.”
Damn, now he was getting pissy with his sergeant. “My apologies, Sarge. You know how I feel about red tape.”
“The feeling’s mutual. All I can do is keep working on it. See what else you can find.”
“You mean other than the fact the guy seemed like a godsend for these kids?” Sloane let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose to ease the headache that was forming. “We’ll keep looking.”
“Copy that.”
“Found something!” Letty waved a sheet of paper at him.
“What is it?”
“An elementary school newsletter.” She showed it to Sloane and he gave it a quick read, stopping when he got to the captioned photograph.
“Shit. We need to go.” He tapped his earpiece. “Agent Stone, Agent Taylor, keep searching the house. We’re heading back to HQ to follow up on a lead. Let us know if you find anything.” He received a confirmation from both Team Leaders, and Sloane didn’t waste another second. He moved out with his team trailing quickly behind him.
“What’s going om?” Ash asked, as he jogged toward the driver’s side of the BearCat.
“I’m not sure, but I need to talk to Lieutenant Sparks.” If his suspicions were right, things were a whole lot worse than they could have imagined.
SLOANE TOOK a deep, fortifying breath and knocked on Lieutenant Sparks’s door. Her soft but firm voice asked him to enter. He pressed his hand to the panel on his left, entered his security pin and the door swished closed. There was no privacy mode setting for Lieutenant Sparks’s office because the whole office was created to be secure. It was spacious, but sparse with her desk in the center of the room across from the door, two chairs in front, a few filing cabinets, a digital board, and a personal bathroom off to the side. Sloane stood at attention with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for permission to sit.
“One moment, Agent Brodie.” Lieutenant Sparks tapped away at her keyboard with her bright red, manicured nails, the scarlet matching her lips in color. Lieutenant Sonya Sparks resembled a 1940s pinup girl with fiery hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders in Veronica Lake fashion, a pristine white pantsuit accentuating her ample curves, and white, three-inch heels that had her towering over a good deal of the agents, seeing as how she was already just under six feet tall without them. Pitch-black eyeliner and thick long lashes framed her deep-blue eyes. She was quiet, observant, and the government tattoo on her neck marked her Therian form as a cougar.
Anyone who underestimated Lieutenant Sparks was in for a real eye-opener. She was a hard ass, but a fair one. Sloane had no idea how old she was, only that she’d been with the THIRDS since he’d joined when he was sixteen, and she seemed to have barely aged since. It was no secret he held a certain amount of sway with her, though he had no idea what he’d done to earn such an honor, but she looked out for him and had offered invaluable advice over the years.
“My apologies. I needed to send off a report,” she said, finally shifting her gaze to him. She motioned for him to take the seat in front of her desk and cocked her head to one side, studying him, her piercing-blue gaze intense. Sloane tried not to fidget in his seat. It was amazing how she was the only one around here who could make him feel like that uncertain teenager he’d been when he’d first joined. “What’s on your mind?”
“I think we might have a problem,” he replied, hating the rough way his voice sounded when he spoke.
“Dr. Shultzon.”
The name made Sloane tense, and he sat forward, unwilling to believe she’d kept him in the dark. “It’s true, then. And you knew?”
“That Dr. Freedman wasn’t who you believed him to be? Yes. I was notified shortly after you and your team deployed. My orders were for Destructive Delta to carry on with their investigation. It was unlikely you would find anything, as the man has been in hiding for years.” She smiled affectionately at him. “I knew if anyone would find something, it’d be you. I told them as much.”
Sloane shook himself out of it. “So you know who he is, the information he has?”
“I know Dr. Shultzon was a First Gen doctor. Yours, Ash’s, as well as dozens upon dozens of other First Gen Defense agents we employ. The Chief of Therian Defense is well aware of the danger Dr. Shultzon is in, and in turn, the danger the THIRDS is in. Isaac Pearce vowed he would destroy the THIRDS, and he’s discovered a way to do that. Well, I don’t know if it would destroy us, but it would certainly discredit us, and throw enough red tape to unleash chaos within our ranks. It seems that’s why he kidnapped Morelli.”
“What does…?” Suddenly it struck Sloane, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner. “Morelli was a First Gen recruit.” Sloane ran a hand through his hair, trying not to let his anger get the better of him. “The Chief of Therian Defense knew, didn’t he? That bastard knew from the beginning that Morelli was First Gen. And then they have the nerve to come down on us for not solving this thing fast enough when they’re holding out on information?”
“You know how it works, Sloane. Morelli’s file was doctored after his death, so as not to raise any questions on classified information, especially after learning Isaac had managed to get his hands on your file years ago. You told me so yourself, Isaac was obsessed, claiming the THIRDS was hiding information, and he was right. Isaac somehow discovered Morelli was First Gen. We know he forced Morelli to access his file in the hopes of finding something, and when he didn’t, tried to get him to access Themis. Receiving no results, he killed Morelli and followed the one lead he did have—the CDC Therian registration office.” She leaned forward, her gaze intense. “We cannot allow Isaac Pearce to get his hands on First Gen information.”
“Okay, then help me. We know Morelli’s file led Isaac to the CDC registration office, and from there, he followed the trail to the Therian Youth Center. Obviously, something there led him to Dr. Freed—I mean Dr. Shultzon. Why can’t we get access to the youth center’s files?” He watched Lieutenant Sparks rise to her feet. She paced behind her desk, her gaze on the floor, and her lips pursed. “Please, you gotta give me something, Lieutenant.”
She nodded and turned to face him. “All right. Because it’s you. That youth center is one of many belonging to the THIRDS. It’s part of a recruitment program. It has been since the First Gens program was terminated. That’s why your search for the founder has led you in circles. The THIRDS is the founder.”
Sloane stared at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. The youth center had been a recruitment center? He had so many questions, he didn’t know where to start.
“Sloane, think about the situation you found yourself in. Think about Ash and all the others like you. You needed a place to go, but at the time, there wasn’t one. Dr. Shultzon went out personally to find those like you. He saw your potential and that of many others, so he devised the THIRDS First Gen Recruitment Program. Unfortunately, it meant your home became….” She cleared her throat and waved a hand in dismissal. “Well, anyway. After the THIRDS First Gen Recruitment Program ended, the THIRDS wanted to continue seeking out gifted Therian individuals, without all the media brouhaha and political meddling. If the Human military could recruit via high schools, why couldn’t we recruit in a similar fashion?
“The THIRDS opened Therian Youth Centers all around the country. Those who don’t qualify get what they need—education, food, shelter, and are soon found permanent housing. They’re given the tools necessary to get out there and face the world. Those who show potential are introduced to a THIRDS Recruitment Specialist who discusses their future with them.” She cocked her head to one side, studying him. “Do you need a moment?”
“No, I’m fine,” he muttered, trying to take in all this new information. It wasn’t as though he was surprised he’d been kept in the dark about all this. The THIRDS—for all its good intentions—was still a government organization, and no one loved secrets better than the U.S. government. What he wouldn’t have given when he was younger to have somewhere like the youth center, somewhere colorful and bright, with other kids like him, toys and classrooms, the semblance of a normal life. A part of him was angry First Gens had suffered as they had, simply to be understood, to earn the right to be treated as citizens and not animals. He was glad the new recruits didn’t have to go through what he did. He wouldn’t wish that hell on anyone, but he still couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice when he spoke. “Must be nice, getting your pick of the best and brightest, knowing they’re not a bunch of fucked up sociopaths.”
The lieutenant’s expression softened. “Sloane, it was a different time. The Humans didn’t know what they were dealing with. Hell, even we didn’t know what we were. Hundreds of Human and Therian citizens were losing their lives by the day. The riots were destroying everything, states, cities, families. The First Gens helped the THIRDS understand Therians and showed the world Therians were more than freaks of nature. Whatever you or anyone else thinks, without you, without the sacrifices you made, the THIRDS wouldn’t be here, and equality for Therians would be nothing but a fanciful hope.”
“I’m honored.” The lieutenant was right, but that didn’t mean he had to feel happy about. It wouldn’t erase what had been done. “So how did Shultzon end up Dr. Freedman?”
“Like I said, the program was terminated after the THIRDS had finished recruiting First Gen agents. Anyone who had anything to do with the program was given a generous severance package. Most of them retired years ago. Shultzon continued to work for us. He wasn’t ready to let go, and he had the right connections. They allowed him to work with the Therian Youth Center as a volunteer doctor under an alias. They gave him a new name, a new life, under the radar to protect him and the THIRDS.”
“And now Isaac has him.” Sloane shook his head. “This is a goddamn nightmare. What if Isaac tortures him for information?”
“Dr. Shultzon is trained to withstand torture.”
Sloane shifted in his seat, hearing the crinkling of paper in his pocket. He cursed under his breath. Pulling out the folded newsletter, he opened it and swallowed hard before placing it on the lieutenant’s desk and sliding it toward her. “What if he doesn’t need torture?”
Lieutenant Sparks snatched up the piece of paper, her eyes going wide. “Shit. I wasn’t told he had kids, much less grandchildren.”
“Sucks being kept in the dark, doesn’t it?”
She frowned at him, but didn’t reply. After studying the photograph for a moment, she took a seat behind her desk. “I need to make a few phone calls. As soon as I have some answers, I’ll hold a briefing. Tell your team you’ll let them know as soon as you hear anything.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Great. More waiting. He stood and turned for the door when she stopped him.
“Sloane?”
He schooled his expression, making certain not to show any signs of his growing anxiety. “Yes?”
“We’ll stop him, but I need to know you can handle this. If it’s too much—”
“I can handle it,” he stated firmly.
Her expression hardened, and her eyes met his. “I won’t hesitate to pull you off this case.”
“Understood.” He gave her a curt nod, ready to leave, when something occurred to him. “What happened to the research facility?”
“It closed when the program terminated. All the archived files were being converted to digital files. There’s not much left, and what is left is under heavy security. It’s also in an undisclosed location. You don’t even know where it is.”
It was true, none of the First Gens knew where they’d been taken, where they’d lived, where they’d become what they were. “Shultzon knows.”
“Like I said, it’s in a secret location and heavily fortified. We would know the minute anyone unauthorized so much as attempted to step foot inside.”
“For all our sakes, I hope you’re right.”
“Before you go. I need you and your partner to go to the hospital. I need to know when your teammates are ready to come in. Also, please remind Agent Summers he’s due for briefing first thing tomorrow.”
With a nod, Sloane walked out of her office, closing the door behind him, his thoughts on everything he’d learned. He had to watch his step. If he showed any signs of being unable to cope with the case, or God help him, a relapse, he’d become a hindrance, and possibly a danger to himself and his team. He couldn’t allow that to happen. As much as he told himself he could cope, he couldn’t say for certain what would happen the deeper they delved into this. For now, all he could do was his job, and pray Isaac didn’t get his hands on any First Gen records. Now that he thought about it, it was probably a good thing Dex was keeping his distance.
Oh God, Dex. Sloane came to an abrupt halt outside his office. He hadn’t even thought about Dex, about what he would think if he found out. Finding his office empty, Sloane quickly stepped inside and locked the room behind him, turning on privacy mode. He looked down at his hands, cursing under his breath at the sight of them trembling. What if Dex found out the truth about his past? This argument would be the least of their worries. How would Dex look him in the eye, much less work with him? Sloane sank into his chair behind his desk.
“Keep it together.” This was exactly what Lieutenant Sparks was talking about. It would be fine. It had to be. The THIRDS wouldn’t let that information get out. How many First Gen THIRDS agents would be pulled from duty if the public discovered where they’d come from or what they’d done? Who would look after his team while Sloane was…? Damn it. No. He stood and tapped his earpiece. “Daley, meet me at the car.” As he headed out, he told himself he wasn’t going to break. Now he had to make himself believe it.