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“Patrick,” my supervisor, Salvador, gently bid.
His reserved tone instantly snapped me out of my anxiety.
“Pat, did you hear what I said?”
I blinked and nodded, even though I didn’t have a clue. I was already halfway through Kentucky, if only in my mind.
“Pat, your son is incarcerated. If they find out he is your son.”
“Victor,” I stiffened, his concern bringing another round of concern. “They don’t have any idea…”
“Yesterday, they had no idea who Al or Kevin were.” Sal pointed out, “Yesterday, their wives and children were breathing.”
I swallowed, the mixture of disgust and anger becoming almost too much to choke down.
Another entire family?
Al might not have been assigned as my partner for long, but he’d had my back since the transfer was complete.
Didn’t someone owe it to him and the other fallen agents to double down on these parasitic assholes?
They were under investigation for human trafficking, amongst other ventures.
Would taking Brenna and walking away be enough to keep her out of their clutches?
“I can get your son transferred to Georgia. The bureau can see to your transfer and relo–”
“They tracked the last witness across an ocean, Sal.” I shrugged, accepting it for what it was. “We can’t outrun them, all we can do is try to outthink the bastards.”
He dropped his gaze and gave a stoic nod that seemed to never end, “Pat… I can’t guarantee anything with these people. I– I’ve never lost three agents in one day. I mean, I– I have, but not in three different locations. Pat, this is beyond organized. They probably have as much money invested in intelligence as we do.”
“Can we put a man in there, to keep an eye on Vick?” I quietly asked, integrity and humility be damned.
He was my oldest son.
“I already have two in place.” Salvador maintained eye contact a few seconds longer than necessary, leaving me staring at his face when he dropped his chin. “Pat, I gotta ask…”
“Yeah?”
“Did you know?” He cleared his throat, sweeping a glance around the room, before he returned his attention to me.
“Wh–?” My face scrunched as I tried to interpret his meaning.
“Did you know your son was a member of an outlaw motorcycle gang?”
I stared, waiting for him to laugh, though I was unamused.
It wasn’t the time for jokes, but the longer the silence wore on, I was questioning my own certainty.
“Oh, yeah.” I swiped the air and cocked a brow, “Yeah, they got him casted for the next Easy Rider flick.”
When his gaze never wavered, I took a step back.
“Your son is a prospect for the Steel Disciples.”
I wet my lips and tried to place the name while digesting his accusation.
“What are you saying right now?” I finally managed.
