Mason’s jaw clenched. “Been there.”
“Yes, and we took you back. I took you back.” Sparrow emphasized the personal pronoun, “You didn’t lie to me or us. You didn’t downplay the Order. We knew what it meant to have you here and we chose you.” He stood taller. “So if you want to blame someone for bringing the Order to Chicago, blame me. The fucking buck stops here.”
“I’m also to blame. I had a say,” Patrick said.
“Me, too,” I added. And then a thought occurred to me. “Maybe you should stop being so damn narcissistic.”
All eyes were on me.
I walked closer to the group and my desk area. Before sitting, I turned to Mason. “Hear me out. Even if this is the Order, they don’t want you.”
Mason’s green eyes, so much like his sister’s, opened wider. “They want Laurel.”
“That’s why she’s not leaving the tower and you can,” Sparrow said.
“Did you introduce Laurel to the Order?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
He hadn’t.
“Fuck,” Mason said as he stood again and began to pace before the rows of active computer screens. “I’ve been so focused on the fact this could be the Order and that they could have taken Lorna and Araneae, I wasn’t seeing the entire picture.” He spun toward us, running his fingers through his untethered hair. “I didn’t—introduce them to her. The Order had a tracker on her for years.”
“Because?” I asked, also knowing this answer.
“Her compound. She—the tracker—was fucking there when Laurel was recreating...” His sentences weren’t keeping up with his thoughts. It was all right. We could fill in the blanks.
“Why is Laurel alive today?” Patrick asked.
When Mason hesitated, Sparrow answered, “Dr. Laurel Carlson wouldn’t have lived if she’d been with any other person, male or female, in the entire world. I wouldn’t have understood who was after her. Reid or Patrick wouldn’t, and you know we’re about as badass as they come. You were able to save her because you understand the Order. You’re not the weak link here. You’re the fucking asset.” Sparrow looked again at his watch. “I need to be downtown.” He took a step and stopped, staring us all down. “I want intel today. Nothing but intel. No one takes off for DC or anywhere outside our city. No rogue shit. Am I clear?”
We nodded.
“Learn for sure where Walters is. Is he in DC? If not, where?” Sparrow turned to Mason and Patrick. “We need to put out these little fires everywhere around my city. Get on the street. Talk to capos. Check with the informants with contacts in the gangs. I want to know why we’re on the edge of a constant battle. This is our city. I make the rules.
“If any of this annoying shit is coming from within our ranks, we have a round of housekeeping to do. I don’t want to lose Sparrows, but I won’t stand for insubordination in the lines.” He straightened the cuffs of his starched shirt visible below the cuffs of his suit coat and righted the gold and diamond cuff links. “Tomorrow, we’re going to Walters.”
“All of us?” I asked.
His dark gaze met mine. “I sure as fuck plan to look in the eye of the man who was ultimately responsible for my wife being taken. Was I wrong to suppose you felt the same?”
“Not at all.”
“I need to be there,” Mason said.
We turned to Patrick as Sparrow spoke. “Patrick, we need your skills, but we can have them from here. After you meet with the capos and street gangs, get back here with Reid so we can rely on you to shoot us whatever is necessary from this command center. Also, line up a handful of Sparrows to join us on our trip and give them orders. I want them to arrive before we do and secure every loose end. We’ll need a private location to meet and the assurance of staying under the radar. Walters won’t want to be seen with me any more than I want to be seen with him.”
Patrick nodded.
It was no secret; Patrick didn’t want to be distanced from Madeline. Leaving her in Montana happened because we convinced him that it was for her good. We were wrong. Now she was safe in this tower. It wasn’t only her location. As he’d mentioned privately to each of us, Madeline gave birth to Ruby over six weeks early. He refused to not be present and at his wife’s side when his son entered this world.
None of us could blame him.
The world’s fires would rage as would those in Chicago. That didn’t mean our priorities weren’t constantly changing. It wasn’t that we cared less about the Sparrow Empire; it meant we also had other concerns.
Settling in my chair, I lifted my chin to my brother-in-law. “I could use you to stay here for a bit.”
He nodded as Sparrow and Patrick disappeared behind the closing steel door, leaving the two of us alone.
“I want to know everything I can about Andrew Jettison, sergeant major.”
Mason wheeled his chair closer to my workstation. “Since his blood was found in that bunker five days ago, I think we can safely say that he didn’t die six years ago in combat.”
“You found his DNA match...”
“It was matched through government records.” Mason leaned back in the chair, bringing one of his ankles to the opposite knee. “Even the Order hasn’t figured out how to completely erase someone’s identity. They’ve been content to end it, to declare the man or woman dead.”
I hit a few keys, making my way into the program Patrick had run. A summary of Andrew Jettison’s education and service record appeared, and I began to read. “Jettison was a member of TACP, tactical air control party specialist.”
Mason grunted. “Sounds like a man who could handle flying a chopper.”
I continued reading. “His family received what was left of his remains in a ceremony in DC after his plane was shot down during airstrikes over Iraq and Syria. Jettison was honored for his service. The airstrikes took out a huge weapons depot.” My mind went to Lorna, how she’d bravely gone to the coroner’s office and identified the charred remains we’d been led to believe belonged to the man now sitting beside me. “Jettison had an impressive history of service with a list of commendations.”
“The Order only spends its resources on the best.”
My lips twitched. “A little full of yourself.”
Mason shook his head. “I don’t envy Jettison.”
“No,” I replied, “because I’m going to make him suffer.”
“I’m certain he already has.”
When I turned to my side, Mason’s gaze was distant. From my vantage, I imagined that his mind was immersed in a cloud of memories. “Man, are you all right?”
Abruptly, he stood, his chair scooting across the cement floor. “Talk to me and then I need to get out to the docks.”
“Talk, be more specific. I was talking.”
Mason took a few steps, his boots clipping across the floor. “I don’t want this to sound wrong.”
I waited because his change in tone and demeanor already sounded...not right.
“Doc wants to help Lorna and Araneae any way she can,” Mason began. “She’s also practically elated over the drug that they were given. She’s been up late researching the toxicology reports and writing in notebooks—plural—all full of notes.” He stopped walking. “You have to understand, we’ve devoted our lives to Sparrow and the outfit. We have done a shit ton of good, an equal amount of bad, and made some great money along the way.” He gestured around. “This life we live is nothing like what Lorna and I had when that bitch-on-ice gave us life.”