Chapter Sixty

Ghost

M entally shaking my head at the look from my mom, I stood. "One minute. Excuse me."

"It'll be more than a minute, and you've never needed excusing from me." Trying to hide the sudden sadness in her expression, she dug into her granola with purpose.

Glad she was eating, I stepped onto the formerly rotting back porch that I'd redone myself two years ago when she'd refused to let me pay for a contractor. Glancing at the blocked caller ID, I swiped to answer. "November."

"You shouldn't have known it was me." The hacker typed in the background.

I didn't tell him he was the only person who had the number to this particular burner. "What's up?"

"The package retrieval and new cell phone acquisition you requested was completed and delivered." The hacker paused, but I didn't offer up the intel that I'd watched my number one retrieve her bag or that I'd texted her and she hadn't replied. "Slight problem with another matter."

Every interaction I'd had with November, he'd always been succinct. Whatever the problem was, I was betting it had to do with either number seven or my petite blonde. Since all the other women were successfully relocated from AES, I took a calculated stab. "What did Eighteen do?"

"There's been an incident."

I glanced back in the house. My mom still had her head down, but she'd stopped eating. "Elaborate."

"Emerson called it in."

The spoon fell from my mom's hand. "Emerson?" Fuck. "Speed this up."

"Emerson, Jesse. Marine. Christensen's project manager. Six foot—"

"Got it. Why'd he contact you?" Christensen knew how to get ahold of me.

"The female requested you. He called me."

My mom's head started to droop, and I was moving. "Hold." Tossing the burner on the kitchen table, I grabbed my mom just as she started to slide out of her chair, then lifted her into my arms.

Startled awake, her eyes met mine, and for a split second, she looked confused as hell before her pride kicked in. "You don't need to pick me up." She glanced in front of us. "Or carry me."

"Already happening." I strode toward the couch. "Did you get enough to eat?"

"Stop fussing over me." She pushed her hair from her face. "And I can walk perfectly fine."

"Debatable, and we're going to discuss that in a minute." I set her on the couch and grabbed the knitted blanket she'd made when I was a kid. "But first, I need to finish a call. Don't move." I covered her with the throw.

She half laughed with both effort and embarrassment. "Where would I go?"

Guilt ripped through me, and I kissed the top of her head. "Back in a minute."

"Take your time." Her voice turned small. "I know your work is important."

"Not more important than you." The sentence I'd said so many times now that I recited it by rote should've been more than a placation. It should've been sentiment, but I didn't know what the hell it was now except guilt. Guilt for all the shit I'd done since I'd become singularly focused. Leaving my mother until she'd gotten this bad. Walking away from Safiya time and time again. Taking the petite blonde who was too damn young to have been left alone, but handing her over to the authorities would've fucked with my plan. All of it was ambushing me.

Retraining my focus, I strode back to the kitchen, grabbed the cell I should've hung up instead of leaving on an open call, and walked out to the porch. "Sitrep," I demanded.

"You're two hours out by plane. Take the rented Cessna. You can land on the grass strip at the northwest corner of the Ocala property."

Until that second, I hadn't realized how much I'd slipped. Or fucked up. "You know my location." He also somehow knew I'd rented a single-engine Cessna under a clean alias.

"Yes."

I had the geo tracking turned off on my burners and the vehicle I'd used after I'd landed. I'd flown entirely under the radar to and from Georgia, and I'd added an additional layer of security to my satcoms so they couldn't be hacked. I should've been untraceable.

"Where'd I fuck up?" Why the hell had CYBERCOM let this guy walk?

"You didn't."

"You either hacked the additional security I added to my satellite servers or found me another way." I'd fucked up somewhere, and I'd be tracking down every one of his keystrokes if he was in my servers again. "It's the only way you could've found me."

Silence.

"Rhys," I stated, out of patience.

"Grayson," he countered.

Glancing back toward the house, I went at the hacker from another angle. "Why didn't the Marine call his boss?"

Curled on her side, my mom was already asleep on the couch that was older than I was.

November paused for half a beat. "Would you have called Christensen with a hysterical female in the background?"

Tension hit. "You didn't tell me she was upset."

"I'm telling you now. Emerson requested backup. He has a jobsite he needs to be at in less than three hours. You can be there in two."

This hacker was fucking handling me now? "You coming to work for me?" A Marine needed backup for a five-foot-two female?

"No."

"Then you're not my overwatch."

"Wasn't acting as such."

No, he was just telling me how to handle my shit. Now I was going to tell him how to handle his. "I'll be there in one hour. If I find the blonde still in hysterics, Christensen will need a new PM and you'll need your sweep team." I started to hang up.

"You didn't make a mistake."

I waited, not sure I wanted to hear what the hacker genius had to say.

True to form, he didn't give me a choice. "Ferrah Morgan, born Feralyn Alva Grayson, has virtually no digital footprint. Except twice a month, traffic cams catch her driving the same route between Miami and Sunrise. A Raine Gautier gave birth to a male child named Grayson in Sunrise."

"That could be a coincidence." I'd destroyed all copies of my birth records. And Feralyn visits my mother? Twice a month ?

"Not a coincidence. Even though someone attempted to wipe your existence, the Catholic Church never destroys baptismal records."

Raine had fucking baptized me?

As if I'd spoken out loud, November answered, "You were eight days old. All Saints Catholic Church in Sunrise. And while Raine Gautier has zero digital footprint because you continually erase it, you missed one prescription. It had an address on file for Sunrise."

I should've killed Trefor for mentioning my half sister's name, and I didn't miss any prescriptions for my mother. I covered all bases with her, always. She must've filled something for herself, but she knew better than to use her actual address.

Fucking tired, I asked what the hell it was. "What was the prescription?"

"Medical marijuana."

Christ . I should've known. One, my mom didn't believe in pharmaceuticals. Two, despite her solidly free-spirited and anti-government ideals, she never broke the law. Three, the state had legalized cannabis for qualifying medical conditions, and four, she'd never taken a header at the kitchen table over granola before. All shit I should've added up before now.

"Still doesn't explain how you found me."

"Address on file is a residence with security. Footage from the camera feeds has an unusual lack of activity."

My mom never went anywhere, and I'd already erased my arrival. "Speed this up."

"I traced the house's deed. The corporation it's listed under is one of Christensen's."

Fuck . I made a mental note to change the shell corporation on the property ASAP. "Erase your digital footprint."

"Already done. Emerson's expecting company."

"Copy."

Pausing a beat, then straying from his usual MO, November threw out a question instead of giving an answer to one I hadn't asked. "How are you going to get to Christensen's in an hour?"

"You're the hacker." Figure it out.

"I'm unclear if that's an invitation or a challenge."

"Neither." It was sarcasm, which was as unusual for me as it was for him to ask a question instead of hacking his way into an answer.

"Understood."

Doubtful. "Any other issues I need to know about with the remaining sixteen?"

"Fifteen," he corrected. "Your number seven declined relocation because of the Marine she's dating. We read him in. Otherwise, all clear."

Too preoccupied with another number, I didn't demand a sitrep of what intel was downloaded to the Marine. "Lucky seven."

"Luck is a desperate man's religion. Handle the situation in Ocala." The hacker hung up.

Silently cursing, I brought up my servers. Triple-checking to make sure November hadn't hacked his way in again, I ensured my private hangar was still secure. Then I ran another check on the matte black Sikorsky helo I'd stolen last year. Confirming it still wasn't on any watch lists, I logged out and made a call.

Helios picked up after four rings. "Unless you're calling to tell me where to pick up my new Citation, fuck off."

"If you'd used your suppressor, you wouldn't need a new plane."

"Those fuckers had it coming, and this conversation is over. I'm not upsetting Feralyn again."

"She's upset?"

"I was gone. You were involved. I came back fucked-up. Of course she's upset."

"Ares was gone too."

"Exactly."

I glanced at my watch, then scanned the yard before looking back at the sleeping form on the couch. "Did you know she's been coming to see Raine twice a month?"

He ignored the question. "What do you fucking want, asshole?"

To know why he was still living with Feralyn. And why he'd ignored the question. "A favor."

"No."

Tapping into his ego, I rephrased. "I need your help."

"Asked and already answered. I'm done playing personal soldier to your suicide missions, and I'm still fucking pissed about my plane."

"You're alive." He could afford five new planes.

"Not the fucking point."

"You'll benefit from this, and you won't need a suppressor." I played the ego card one last time. "I'm asking for your help, Helios."

He sighed.

Then he did what I knew he would because he'd earned that Army Ranger tab for a reason.

He didn't say no—not to someone asking for help. "I'm going to regret this, so fuck you, but go ahead, start downloading. And just so we're clear, if I get shot again, I'm shooting you—twice."

Twice in Helios speak meant double tap. "Message received."

"Good. Go," he ordered.

I told him what I needed.