Chapter 21

Balthasar placed his sniper rifle near the window overlooking the city. Attics weren’t his thing—too many childhood memories. But this one was secure and had electricity.

After retrieving Deke, dumping Sally, and meeting Walker, Balthasar had waited for Eddie to move his gear into the safe house. Eddie even brought a cot for Deke to recover on.

Deke lay on his side, ear bandaged, hopped up on pain meds. Unfortunately, because of Romeo’s beating, Balthasar had to wait for Deke to wake before hitting the laptop. Deke had until noon to recover.

Heavy steps on the stairs meant Eddie’s return.

The moment Eddie entered with an armload of groceries and ammo, Balthasar said, “What happened at the club?” Although he didn’t trust the younger, skittish man, Eddie knew about the Fianna. Whether from Escalus or Eddie’s still-unnamed cousin-slash-boss was TBD. Regardless of Balthasar’s unresolved feelings about Escalus’s betrayal, Balthasar had a job to do and few leads. Eddie held the only way forward.

At least, according to Eddie, Romeo had less intel than Balthasar.

“They found Sally,” Eddie said. “Unfortunately, the cops discovered Deke’s cell. Almost caught me, too. I hid in the ladies’ shower room and overheard that detective talking. What a strange accent. From Pennsylvania or something.”

“The point?”

“Garza found E’s journal, translated it, and told them about the Fianna.”

Garza had Escalus’s journal? Balthasar ran his fist over his chin. “Did Montfort speak?”

“No.” Eddie went to the coffee pot and started a fresh brew. “Except to say you’d take out everyone in the room including the cop because they now knew about the Fianna.”

Romeo knew Balthasar well. “What are their plans?”

“Montfort gave that Indian a map and told him to find Walker.”

Balthasar took his weapon from his waistband and laid it on the table. “What map?”

“Not sure. Montfort wants Walker to go to the Savannah Preservation Office and meet a Ms. Sarah Munro. She may be able to help him find out what the map means. Then Montfort told the Indian—”

“White Horse.”

Eddie scratched his head. “Montfort told White Horse to protect Samantha at Juliet’s Lily while Montfort and Juliet search Capel Manor to find the windows.”

“What windows?”

“Right. You don’t know about those.” The coffee hissed as it filled the pot. “My cousin told me the manor has stained-glass windows with clues to where the vial is. Except the manor is in ruins and the windows are probably broken. That’s what E was looking for yesterday when he got dead.”

The aroma of fresh coffee filled Balthasar’s head. “Follow the lovers. Find out about those windows. I’ll handle Garza and Walker.”

“And White Horse?”

“Deke will monitor White Horse. But you’re my eyes and ears at that manor.”

“What about my cousin? We’re late checking in. If my coz finds out Escalus died and I didn’t tell him, I’m—” Eddie used a spoon to make a slashing motion across his neck.

Balthasar poured two cups of coffee. One for him, one to wake up Deke. “I can’t contact your cousin until I get that computer working. Unless there’s another way?”

“Only by secure laptop.” Eddie pointed at Deke. “My boy can barely walk and talk.”

“I’ll care for him.” Like Balthasar had cared for so many Fianna recruits, including Romeo. After a long sip of the hot coffee, Balthasar added, “If you fail—”

“I know.” Eddie dumped sugar into his cup and shrugged. “Death will follow.”

* * *

Nate met Pete outside Iron Rack’s gym. Nate’s body hurt, his head pounded, but his vision worked. It’d been a good fight.

He adjusted his bag on his shoulder. “Hey.”

Pete handed him a laundry duffel and an envelope with Juliet’s name on it. Threw them was more accurate. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Nate hadn’t thought about laundry in days. “What’s this?”

“It’s a map. Montfort wants you to go to the Savannah Preservation Office and talk to Sarah Munro. Figure out what the map means and see what you can learn about Anne Capel.” Pete headed into the gym.

Nate carried the duffel on one shoulder, shoved the envelope in his back pocket, and grabbed Pete’s arm. “What’s up?”

Pete knocked him off. “Seriously? You have no idea of the danger we’re in. We have no jobs. We’re broke. And you’re fighting random losers to make yourself feel better.”

Only bad shit put Pete in this kind of mood. “What happened?”

“Sally was murdered behind the club last night by Balthasar.” Pete pulled the HELP WANTED sign off the front door and went inside.

Nate followed Pete back into the gym. “What are you talking about?”

Pete stopped at the front desk painted to resemble a Jolly Roger flag and addressed the check-in guy wearing a black T-shirt with a skull and crossbones. “I’m applying for the self-defense instructor job.”

“Yeah?” The guy took the flyer. “You trained?”

“Trained. Certified. Experienced. Krav Maga is my specialty. But I teach tae kwon do, karate, and basic street fighting. Considering the pirate theme going on here, I can also do fists, knives, chains. Whatever you need.”

The guy nodded. “Leave your number, and the owner will call.”

After Pete did, he turned and left. Again, Nate followed him. “What’s that about?”

“We have no money, and because the club is closed, we have no jobs.”

Nate grabbed Pete’s shoulder. “Talk to me.”

After Pete went through the morning’s events, including Garza’s Fianna rant, Nate said, “Shit.”

“That sums it up.” Pete went down the street and turned left.

Nate, still carrying the duffel and his gym bag, ran to catch up. “Where are you going?”

“Where the fuck do you think? To protect Samantha and stop whoever’s killing people we know. You need to get to the SPO. Unless you don’t want to win this fucking war?”

“Of course I do.”

Pete stopped and pushed him. “Then act like it. Do something. Anything. Hell, cry about Sally or go after Balthasar. The old Nate would’ve been on this with helos and guns.”

“You don’t think I can do that? Because I’m not crying over a dead stripper?”

“Jeez, Nate, when did you turn into a coldhearted bastard?”

“I’m…fuck.” Nate dropped both bags onto the sidewalk. He was a bastard. Hadn’t he been telling Pete that for weeks now?

Pete sighed. “If we don’t find that vial before Balthasar does, if we don’t figure out what Juliet’s lily has to do with a Spec Forces op halfway around the world, we’re screwed. Abso-fucking-lutely screwed. My team—including me—goes to prison for helping your team, and you end up back in the psych ward.”

Pete was right. Nate picked up his bags. “I’ll go to the SPO, and then meet you at Juliet’s Lily.”

“Good.”

“Wait…will Juliet be there?”

Pete walked away. “She and Montfort went out to the Isle to see some windows. But don’t worry. I’m an experienced Krav Maga teacher. When she returns, I’ll protect you.”

An hour later, Nate sat—showered, in clean clothes, with coffee—at a table beneath an oak tree in the Savannah Preservation Office gardens. The patio fountain provided white noise and, when the breeze blew, a cool mist. The SPO antebellum mansion housed the preservation society offices, library, and reading room.

He’d gone in, but the assistant with long brown hair and too many arm tattoos had taken the document and told him to wait for Miss Munro, the temporary archivist. Then the assistant gave him a book about the history of Savannah’s isles. Since the AC was acting up and it was cooler outside, he’d chosen the garden.

He squinted at the fine print. He preferred math equations to reading. His struggle with mild dyslexia didn’t help. Neither did Pete’s anger still ringing in Nate’s ears. He hadn’t been holding up his end of the mission. But he’d rather have gone out to the Isle with Rafe than do library duty. As Nate reread the same sentence three times, his cell phone rang. “Walker.”

“There’s news,” Kells said. “The trials for my team start Friday.”

“I thought we had weeks!”

“Things have changed. If you don’t find new intel to prove our innocence, the men who rescued you will be dishonorably discharged and imprisoned as well.”

“Why? Your team wasn’t there. You weren’t the operational commander.”

“You entered the country under another commander’s control, but the mission was mine. That secret congressional committee says it has evidence proving my team was involved with the massacre at the planning stage.”

Nate rubbed his forehead. He’d thought the charges against Kells’s team would be dropped. “You were all at HQ that night.”

“Doesn’t matter, Nate. Someone wants to pin this on all of my men. And by tying the team that stayed behind to the planning of your and Jack’s mission, we’re culpable.”

“How many men?”

“Ten including me. Between my team and the two in prison, that’s three A-teams and two colonels.”

All because of Nate’s inability to command. “I’ll have info by the end of the day.”

“I hate that this falls on you and Pete, but it does.”

So man up. “I’ll call later.”

Nate hung up and reached for the medal around his neck that wasn’t there anymore. The colors behind his lids were bouncing. A roar in his head threatened to send him into unconscious land. He opened his eyes and found a pill. He’d taken two of the three to get through last night and had one left. He swallowed it with coffee, savoring the burn in his throat. He was pressed against the wall with a knife at his jugular. Yet, instead of diving into the books, he worried about where he’d get his next hit.