Chapter 27

Nick

Nick could see Malachi had reached his limit. He had nothing more to give, and rightly so. The following day, he seemed much more himself, and they headed back to Sec HQ—they apparently lived there now. Nick wanted to go through all the information they had about this guy again to make sure they hadn't missed anything.

"But where's my blast from the past?" he said, and Brett frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Dominic had Addams, someone he had met during his past. Owen had reminders of his sister, something from his past. Where's that connection to me?"

"Maybe it's nothing to do with you this time?" Felix mused.

"But it is for everyone else. We were wondering before if this had anything to do with it being because Dominic and Owen were friends, or because they were bodyguards. Well, it's happening to me now, so I'm assuming it's bodyguards. I didn't know them before I started working here. Have we missed something, or has he changed his MO?"

"There isn't anything else connecting the three of you, is there?" Brett asked. They shook their heads. "So, the connection is either the royal family or bodyguards in general, do you agree?"

"Maybe he hates the royal family, and that's where the connection is with Malachi," Colt said from behind them. "You mentioned a note saying he was two-faced and not telling the truth about his feelings? Maybe he's annoyed because he thought he found an ally in Malachi but realised he'd been duped, and that was why he's focused on him."

Nick glanced at his lover. "Have you had any new connections or sources lately?"

Malachi exhaled. "I get new sources weekly sometimes. Let me grab my laptop."

While he did that, Nick turned back to Brett. "So, we're thinking this is someone with a hatred for the royal family?" Brett nodded slowly but didn't seem convinced. "Where's your head at Brett?"

Brett crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his ass on the desk. He stared at the floor, and everyone let him think it through as he usually did before voicing his thoughts. During that time, Malachi came back, settling beside him with his laptop.

Brett sighed. "It makes sense, but if the plan had been to remove bodyguards to get to the royal family, it failed dismally. It always would. Because when one guard goes, another takes his place. What is he going to do? Take out a hundred, a thousand guards before he even has the chance at the Sutcliffes? As much as I hate to state the obvious, there are easier ways to get to them, as many others have proven."

"So, if we take the royal family out of the equation, that leaves the bodyguards. But why go after us? Is it someone who has an issue with us or a disgruntled former employee?" Felix asked.

Brett scoffed. "There are far too many disgruntled employees, unfortunately. It goes with the territory."

"You must have a list, though."

"Oh, I do, but I've been through it a hundred times. Those that stood out all have alibis and confirmed proof that they aren't involved."

"Could they be hiring someone? That would give them an alibi, but not an alibi for the one actively involved," Felix said.

Nick watched the back and forth between them, Felix having come to stand closer to Brett, and now that he knew there might be something between them, it was plain to see. The look in Felix's eyes as he spoke to their boss was unmistakable.

"I suppose it's possible. I'll look into them again."

"Remember to add in the military aspect, too," Malachi said.

"A lot of bodyguards have military experience…" Brett trailed off and then turned and faced the board they had set up with information, much like what the police did on TV shows. "But none of you," he muttered.

Nick rose. "What do you mean?"

Brett pointed at him. "You don't have military experience, you have regular security experience. Owen doesn't have military experience. Dominic doesn't have military experience. Who else doesn't among us?"

It was a rhetorical question because Brett was the one with that information. He leaned over his laptop and typed away at it for a moment before lifting his head, his gaze immediately going to Felix. "Only two others."

"Who?" Nick asked when his boss fell silent.

Felix answered. "Me and Brett," he whispered.

"I thought you had been in the Army?" Nick asked Brett.

Brett shook his head. "It was expected that I would because my entire family has been at some point, but the family business wasn't for me."

Maybe that was the underlying tension between him and his sister.

"Do you think we're next?" Felix asked.

Brett didn't answer, which was answer enough. Nick stood. "Okay, let's go through this again with fresh eyes. This is someone who seems to target those who haven't been in the military but holds a role where they might think we should have. Someone who knows our pasts or has access to it, and the people who were involved at the time. Someone with technical abilities or access to people with those abilities. Someone who's cocky and willing to take risks."

"That's a long list of people," Owen said, entering the conversation.

"But is it, really?" Nick said. "It might seem like it if you take each one separately, but putting them all together narrows the field a lot."

"Anyone in the military could have all of this," Owen said.

"Yes, but where's the link to us?"

Everyone fell silent, undoubtedly trying to find the connection.

"Malachi, any luck on your sources," Brett said suddenly.

Malachi nodded. "I'll email you a list of those that have come to me or that I've found in the last few months. There's actually not as many recently."

"Were you using Tarrant Milton as a source?" Brett asked, while studying the screen.

"Yes. He'd happily email me his theories about who should be the rightful king and whatever. It was fantastical at times, but it made for good stories." He winced. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. We've known for long enough that you weren't writing for yourself."

Nick blinked. "Just how long did you know?"

Brett managed a small smile. "Long enough to realise you were blinded by your attraction." He shook his head. "Almost a year."

Malachi gasped. "That long?"

"You weren't doing anything harmful that others weren't doing, so it didn't matter. And you were counteracting your words on the other side. It made no difference to us. We would've made it our business had something come of it, but we weren't concerned."

"I can't believe that." Malachi covered his mouth. "I thought I'd managed to keep them separate."

"You did. It was only Felix who managed to link them, so thank him."

Felix flushed. "I was trying to figure out why Nick was so obsessed with you, and the string I followed went a lot deeper than I expected." He shrugged.

"Well, you're not the only one who knows now," Dominic said, pointing at the laptop he was using. He spun it around.

REPORTER REVEALED AS A SHEEP!

It has recently come to our attention that a reporter at this very paper has been a sheep in wolf's clothing. While we believed Malachi Sanders to be on our side of the story when it came to the unnecessary role of the royal family, it turns out he is one of them.

Malachi, also known as Kai Ruffers, has been sabotaging our paper for far too long, and it's time to bring that shadiness to light.

Now everyone knows not to believe a word he says, we can get back to telling the truth about how things should be, and what the royal family is doing to ruin and corrupt our country.

By Adelaide Thompson, Windsor Chronicle.

"Well, I suppose it could've been worse," Malachi said, rubbing his face. "I shouldn't be surprised they took her on."

Nick took his hand. "You'll have people flocking to your other name now."

"Maybe not for the right reasons, though."

"They'll soon tire of it."

His words were pointless because he knew, as well as Malachi did, that people could be tenacious. But he wanted to get that look off Malachi's face.

"Felix, can you work on getting a program to work through the parameters we're looking at for our guy? Use all the info we've been through today, especially Nick's break down and cross reference it with Malachi's list. I'm not sure what use it will be, but give it a try."

"Yes, boss." Felix headed to his desk, where several monitors were set up, and started tapping away at the keyboard, already entrenched in his cyber world.

"Brett, did we ever get any more information about Tarrant and how or why he died?" Malachi asked.

"He was poisoned. His water had been tampered with. He went back to the cell after the interrogation, and they found him a couple of hours later." He shook his head. "As for why, there's only speculation that it was because he held information about whoever is behind this. Especially as he was the one to attack you here. He had to know more than he was telling."

"As much as I didn't agree with the guy, I still feel bad he died," Malachi said. "Sometimes, I don't think enough people stand up for what they believe in, but it is a double-edged sword."

"The program is still running, but I have a couple of people who've already popped up," Felix said. "Robert Duncan and," he stared at Darius, "Ian Jacobs."

Darius nodded, firming his lips. "Yeah, that's him. How did I fall for it?"

"How do kids get away with their fake ID cards? Damn things are good now."

"It wasn't your fault, Darius," Brett said. "I should've told you who would be there. That's on me."

"But he went by his last name. We don't."

"Some of our ex-military does, though," Felix said. "Not everyone has got into the hang of first names for themselves. Like Colt." He nodded towards the guy, who waved a hand, eyes still on the screen, and said, "Paul Colt, at your service. Besides, look at the sketch Tarrant did. Take off the beard, and it's a match. It's like he was playing with us."

"What's his story, then, Felix?" Brett asked, moving closer.

"Honourably discharged last year after an accident left him with back pain and numbness. Based at…" Felix stared at Brett. "Based at Transport Squadron Royal Logistics Corps, Morden."

"That's where we went the other day," Nick said. "Where your…" He trailed off.

"Is it a coincidence that the king visited the same squadron Jacobs was part of?" Brett asked, ignoring Nick's unsaid words. "It's been on his calendar for a while."

"How long?" Malachi asked. "Four months?" he said with meaning.

Nick latched on to it. "Did this all start when it was confirmed that the king was visiting that specific squadron? If that was the catalyst, and Malachi was the second ignition, where are they planning to end it?"

"It's usually confirmed between three to four months out," Brett confirmed.

"It was just before Douglas and Mav's wedding, so around mid-March," Felix confirmed. "When did you get your phone fixed, Kai?"

Malachi shrugged and swiped through it. Nick waited for the inevitable confirmation. "I have the receipt. It was 18 March."

"We have a winner," Felix muttered. "Jacobs had been discharged from the hospital two weeks prior."

"Let's not jump to conclusions just yet," Brett said. "Jacobs could also just be another pawn here. A fall guy like Tarrant. See who else pops up on your list and look into all of them. If we find something, we need the evidence to be perfect."

"Yes, boss." Felix turned back to his computer.

"Everyone else, go back to work. There's not much more we can do now."

Nick didn't wait for Brett to be sure, and he grabbed Malachi's hand and dragged him from the room. They'd had so little time together since it all started—since they started—and he was sick of other people dictating their timeline. He was taking Malachi to his home, and they weren't going to leave until they had no choice. It wasn't even a physical thing for him. He would be ecstatic to sit on the sofa and cuddle, but they just needed time to…be.

"Not that I have a problem with you dragging me off to places unknown, but where are we going?"

"My house. I think a takeaway and a movie sound like heaven. What do you think?"

"Hmm, wonderful. What about Rye?"

"I called earlier. He's happy we're okay and told me to bugger off."

Nick held the passenger car door open while Malachi climbed in, closing it behind him, and then headed around it to get in himself. He handed him his phone. "I know you haven't got the new one Felix gave you set up yet, so use mine and call a takeaway. I don't mind which."

Malachi tapped a few times on his phone while Nick worked his way through the streets, but then he put it to his ear.

"Hola, Nick. Long time, no speak."

Nick grinned. He could hear Carlos through the phone, even without it being on speakerphone.

"Oh, um, sorry. It's, um, Mala—it's Kai. Um, Nick's…boyfriend?"

He hadn't meant it as a question, but Carlos was known to latch onto anything to keep the conversation going. He loved talking to people and getting to know them. He said it made the service they provided more special, and Nick couldn't disagree. They had the best tapas.

"Ooh, Nick has a boyfriend? Nice to speak to you, Kai. If Nick has entrusted you to phone in his order, he certainly holds you in high esteem. What can I get you?"

Malachi stared at him, eyes wide. Nick glanced at him and nodded, trusting him and promising himself he'd eat whatever Malachi decided on for him, even if he didn't like it.

"Could we have the tapas buffet, please? I do have a peanut allergy, though."

"Good choice. Anything else?"

Malachi ordered some drinks and said goodbye. "Please tell me you like tapas."

Nick grinned. "You just found another way to my heart, gorgeous. I love tapas."

He found himself a little nervous as they approached his door. Malachi's opinion held a lot of weight, and he hoped he liked the place. If nothing else, he had to love the TV—everyone loved the TV.

Nick busied himself in the kitchen area while Malachi looked around because, if he went with him, he'd probably harass him for his thoughts. He grabbed some plates and two glasses of water, putting them on the breakfast bar, and flicked the kettle on for a hot drink.

"Holy shit! How big?" he heard from the distance, and he grinned.

"I love this place," Malachi said, settling at the bar and resting his head in his palm. "It's surprisingly quiet. I was expecting noise from the neighbours."

"I'm lucky. We have some great tenants here at the moment, and they're all conscientious about noise and things like that."

"That's fantastic, but no parties for you, then." Malachi grinned.

Nick held up his hand. "Woah, don't go that far. We have parties, we just make sure we invite everyone, and then we don't need to worry about the noise."

Malachi snorted. "Trust you to think of a way around it."

"I live to please." He groaned. "I do need to get the finishing touches to George's party done, though."

Malachi gaped at him. "You told Brett it was all sorted!"

"It is. Mostly."

"You are going to be in so much trouble. What do you have left to do?"

Nick sipped his coffee and went through his list. "I need hundreds of balloons inflating. I also need the cake."

"You haven't got a cake yet?"

Nick held up his hand. "I did have a cake sorted, and then the people cancelled on me. I tried to find someone else, but then all this happened."

Malachi shook his head and picked up Nick's phone, which he'd given him the passcode for. He pressed the screen a few times and held it to his ear.

"Hey, Mum. How are you?"

Nick put his drink down and waved his hands. "No," he whispered. "It's too much to ask."

"Yeah, I was wondering, do you have time to make one of your amazing chocolate cakes? It would need to feed around…" He glanced at Nick.

Nick put his head in his hands and mumbled, "Fifty."

"Around fifty people? Yeah… We're on a bit of a time crunch. We need it for the weekend." He smiled and chuckled. "How did you guess? Are you sure? Brilliant, thanks, Mum." He spoke for a few more minutes and then hung up. "There you go. One less thing to worry about. As for balloons, do not ask me. I hate blowing them up."

The doorbell rang, and Malachi rose. "I'll get it. It's time I meet this Carlos."

He disappeared around the corner, and Nick listened to the door open and the mumble of conversation. He grabbed the cutlery and some napkins and placed them in some semblance of order on the breakfast bar.

"Nick," Malachi called.

He headed for the door, wondering what Carlos needed from him, but as soon as he rounded the doorway, he froze. Takeaway containers and food covered the floor, and Malachi stood with his back against the wall with the barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead. A gun which had a certain military man they had been looking for since he'd disappeared at Malachi's grandma's house on the other end of it.

"Jacobs, what are you doing?" he asked as calmly as he could when he was too far away from his own weapons to do any good. The scent of the tapas was extraordinarily strong, and it turned his stomach right then.

Jacobs stared at him, his hand on the butt of the gun never wavering, his eyes empty of any life. "My job. I may not be fit for public military service, but I can still do a damn good job when I need to."

"I can imagine you do. What job have you come here to do?" He didn't want to know, but any extra time he could get was a bonus. There was no way of telling Brett there was a problem, but if Jacobs had killed or hurt Carlos, someone might find him and call the police.

"You both need to die. It's what the plan says."

He said it without emotion, and Nick's heart seized. There would be no getting out of this for either of them.

"Now, who's first?"

****