41. Rowan

"Welcome to the dead zone."

Rowan stood with Liam at the head of the room. "Over the next thirty minutes, we'll be running what's known as a jammer. It does exactly what you think and will jam electronic signals in and around Haven House."

"While it's running, I'm going to go over what we've learned," Liam continued. "None of it will be easy to hear, and we'll answer as many questions as we can before the time is up."

Rowan reminded himself to maintain a level of professionalism as Liam began the breakdown. First and foremost, this was a job. A job that came with the understanding that he was to remain loyal and protect Fairweather Holdings, along with the family, by any means necessary.

As a McIntyre, the concept of loyalty was an easy one, and to extend that mindset to his career went without saying. He knew the game and how to play. How to skirt the line of good and… questionable ethics. It was what made him so sought after by people and corporations willing to pay top dollar for his skills and discretion.

But Annabeth wasn't part of the job. Seeing her clutch Jamison's hand as she learned of Zanmi's breeding plans tested his resolve, tossing the last bit of impartiality he thought he was holding onto out the window.

As Liam finished, Simone rose from her chair to stand behind Jamison, holding onto her shoulders. "How are you protecting Emily?" she asked. "And Claudia?"

"Claudia is at home with Parker and their daughter. Parker has refused security and police protection, no matter what I say," Liam replied. "I'm not sure what's going on with Trevor and Heather, but Damon is not leaving anything to chance and is taking off with Emily to hide somewhere. Rowan spoke to him briefly, and he wouldn't say where exactly they were going."

"Damon and I agreed that was for the best," Rowan said, catching Ben's eye. It had been a long, hard discussion, but Ben had finally agreed to let Damon and Emily test the theory of phase five in their security plan. A complete and total vanishing act. "The less we know about where they're going, the better. I only wish Claudia and Madison would go with them."

"Damon Fairweather thinks he's capable enough to thwart off a Zanmi attempt on his sister without police or federal help?" Klausen asked incredulously. "They won't last a week."

"Klausen, I know you trust your team, and I'm willing to do the same for today, but as a whole, we just can't. Our family can't trust anyone except us." Liam hit a button on the laptop next to him, projecting information onto the movie screen. "So yes, I stand by Damon's choice to take his sister out of the equation for now."

Rowan had listened for a solid half hour as Damon went off on Claudia's partner deciding to keep them at home. "They're sitting ducks with that asshole, and if they go missing, check with me first. I might have kidnapped them myself if it means saving my sister and niece from Parker's stupidity."

Up on the screen, Liam showed everyone various pieces of information. Lines connecting Zanmi to the breeding plan, and the medical documentation to back it up. Most of what was up there had been provided by Killian. His brother had no qualms about using his connections to obtain confidential information, and Rowan owed him one.

Ben didn't seem to have a problem with it, either. Zanmi wasn't some competitor. This was personal, and Benjamin Fairweather wasn't hesitating when it came to calling in favors.

Which was how they were able to learn the latest piece of disturbing information. The news came in around mid-morning, directly after Liam returned with Jamison. There had only been a few minutes to review it before Liam's parents arrived with the jammer.

"Show them," Dr. Cohen ordered. "I got this jammer equipment from a guy in the mob, and it could crap out on us at any minute."

Rowan kicked Liam out of the screen display and called up the rough draft of blueprints.

"What are we looking at?" Klausen squinted at the design taking up half the wall. "Is that a big house?"

Simone walked slowly forward, stopping a few feet away. "Haven House."

"Originally, we thought it was Haven." Dr. Cohen joined her. "It would make sense since they're obviously gaining access to the home repeatedly and would need to familiarize themselves with the layout."

"But that's not Haven," Abe rolled closer. "It's smaller."

Dr. Cohen smiled over his shoulder at him. "Good call, Abe."

"So, if it's not Haven, what is it?" Simone asked.

"It appears they're planning to build a version of Haven House."

Annabeth shifted nervously, her big brown eyes meeting Rowan's. He didn't care for the look in them but couldn't abandon his laptop. Not with the show about to start.

Pale and face drawn tight, Jamison didn't look so good either and joined Simone at the screen. "What's that large open space on the second floor?"

"A nursery." Liam watched her closely. "That will never be used."

"Tell them the rest." Ben prowled around in the back of the room. Having been the one to gain the blueprints from an associate, he'd already had the chance to examine them. "Tell them who paid to have these plans drafted and filed for public record all the way back in 2018."

Dr. Cohen moved to face the room. "Michael Sinclair."

"But that's impossible." Klausen appeared as shocked as the rest of them. "Michael Sinclair was serving overseas for most of 2018. He would have never heard of Haven House back then, just like the rest of the world.

Sighing, Dr. Cohen nodded at Rowan to change the screen, and Michael Sinclair's face became the center of attention.

"I don't know, but Sinclair's involvement is completely unrealistic." Dr. Cohen pointed at the man in question. "He does not follow. He does not take orders from anyone except himself. Initially, my mind took the same path as Liam's. It made sense that we were dealing with a wolf looking for a new flock of sheep."

Going quiet for a second, Dr. Cohen stared at the photo of Sinclair. Rowan split the screen and brought the stats up. Carnage and chaos typed in neat rows for everyone to see. Years and locations of service. The bombings. The victims. Sinclair's personal details. Information on his parents, who were pillars of their community. His big sister, the stay-at-home mom. His little brother, the real estate agent. They even had pictures of Sinclair as a boy holding up a fish while standing with his grandparents. It was all there. Every facet on display. The life of one man and the death he had brought to so many. The American dream gone wrong.

"Here." Dr. Cohen pointed to the space between Sinclair's discharge in the spring of 2019 and the first batch of bombings that summer. "Something happened here. A break in the psyche? I've yet to meet a soldier like Sinclair who didn't come home jaded, but this first bombing in Nevada was sloppy. Not like his previous work, or his later domestic strikes. Three empty government buildings blown so carelessly. There's no finesse to it."

"That no finesse bombing killed nine people," Klausen reminded him. "Including children."

Dr. Cohen shook his head, brows knitted. "The other bombings are orderly and show a clear snapshot of how Sinclair operates. But this first one doesn't fit the profile at all."

Rowan was familiar with Dr. Cohen's work like everyone else on the planet. His sister Caitlin was a huge fan, and endlessly watched the movies and documentaries made about the man. Yet, when William Cohen and his wife arrived, Rowan couldn't help but feel a tiny twinge of disappointment. In person, Liam's dad came off as a regular guy. An older version of his son who you would feel comfortable having a few beers with.

But the second introductions were over, Dr. Cohen immediately switched gears, and became the man most would expect. Rowan hated to be that guy but working side by side with him in a dead room felt pretty awesome. He couldn't wait to rub it in his sister's face.

"What makes you think this theorized psychotic break isn't from the discharge?" Bernie asked. "Dissociating after a lengthy high-risk career is difficult, especially for men. I think you two can attest to that."

Liam and his father smirked at the comment. They were obviously a close family, with the men coming off extremely protective of Bernie Cohen. Rowan understood completely. If one of the women in his family had been attacked and nearly killed by a homicidal manic, he would likely be just as vigilant.

"Sinclair has been blowing things up since he was twenty. There's no reason, career dissociation or not, that the first civilian strike should be so lacking," Dr. Cohen countered. "Something upset him. Something deeply personal. Perhaps it was politically motivated, or perhaps not, but that first one will always bug me."

"The victim's backgrounds show no connection to Sinclair," Klausen said. "But it seems nothing ever does."

"Toby's arrest." Ben stopped pacing to come to the front of the room, and Rowan switched the information to scroll through the timeline of 2019. "Toby's arrest happened in March. Sinclair is discharged a month later, and the bombings begin that summer."

"Then the preliminaries for the trial start right after the new year. People were joining Zanmi at an insane rate," Liam said. "But there was zero activity from Sinclair during the trial."

"Those first months were horrible," Annabeth said with a shiver. "And then the lockdowns made it worse. So many people with nothing to do and watching that streaming series they made about Toby and us."

"They never could get good actors to play you or me," Abe mumbled. "I'm still bitter about that."

"But even then, Sinclair is not involved." Liam moved around to stand with Jamison at the screen. "Not during Zanmi's peak membership draw, nor when they infiltrated Fairweather, and other places connected to Toby. It's only when this breeding plan is created that Sinclair enters the scene."

Rowan shook his head. They had circled the information repeatedly, never landing. "And he's suddenly accepted into a main leadership role."

"Is BOP still claiming they have no record of Sinclair or any of his people visiting Toby?" Liam asked Klausen.

"Not that they've found, although since the U.S. Marshals office is handling Toby's transfer to ADX," Klausen tipped his nose upward in distaste, "there's now a delay in receiving information."

"Holden's uncle is with the Marshals," Liam replied. "I'll have him make a call."

Dr. Cohen dropped into the folding chair next to his wife. "But this isn't telling me the why. Why is Sinclair involved?"

The clock was ticking, and Rowan didn't want to rush them, but time was not on their side. "Izzy," he said quietly so as not to disrupt the ongoing conversation. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready when you are." She continued to work on her computer, doing her part in preparing for the onslaught of data about to hit. "They're knocking, but they can't come in."

Annabeth leaned forward to whisper. "Ready for what?"

Rowan winked at her. "Get ready to be impressed, sweetheart. Your man is about to fuck shit up."

Jamison's raised voice drew their attention. "No, I don't know Michael, nor have I ever met him." She threw her hands up over whatever Dr. Cohen was saying. "Liam already interrogated me!"

"You weren't rude, were you?" Bernie asked her son. "Please tell me you didn't let your emotions get the better of you."

"He was very rude, Bernie," Jamison replied before Liam could. "And it was glorious, but that doesn't change the fact that I don't know Michael."

"You can't blame us for thinking that way." Dr. Cohen held up a paper with Emily's kidnapping information on it. "Claudia and Emily aren't receiving phone calls. It's just you. Sinclair seems to be obsessed with you."

"Don't forget Evie," Izzy spoke up. "He doesn't call, but as yesterday proved, Sinclair gets extremely agitated when we block access to her."

Abe had rolled over to Izzy, flipping through the photos featuring Sinclair's work. "Y'all don't piss him off too much, or he'll start blowing stuff up. Like maybe one of the Fairweather offices." He turned a photo around, showing a blast site in Omaha. "It looks like he could handle something of that size."

They had already thought of that. Ben gave the order earlier for all staff to resort to pandemic measures and work from home, claiming the company was conducting a Fire and Community Risk assessment at every Fairweather location. Any mandatory meetings were to be conducted off-site or from home.

If they succeeded today, it was going to do a lot more than piss Sinclair off. With the jammer and the intel swiped during his experiment yesterday, Rowan would hopefully put a serious kink in Sinclair's network.

Annabeth raised her hand hesitantly. "He wouldn't blow up the Fairweather buildings."

Rowan frowned. "What are you thinking?"

"If he really wanted to hurt us, he would attack Firewater Beach."

"Firewater Beach." Dr. Cohen nodded as he thought it through. "Klausen, we need more of your people patrolling the area. However, I'm not sure if anything there would matter to him other than Samuel's house."

"Except if it were Ben's place," Bernie interjected. "The home holds meaning, and is a direct connection to Toby."

"No." Liam returned to his laptop and recalled the blueprints. "A direct connection to Toby would be Haven House. If Sinclair wanted to make a statement, he would do it here."

The room went quiet.

"Protocols need to be tightened. The net widened on the small patrols around the estate." Rowan had to sit, the possibility of a strike against Haven—Annabeth's sanctuary—weighing him down. "He could set off one of his larger devices as far away as the mill, and it would still do serious damage."

"We'll need ETDs," Liam said to Ben. "They won't be cheap, and it won't be easy to get them here fast."

"I don't know what the hell ETDs are, but money will move anything fast," Ben snapped. "Get what we need, and three of everything. I want Samuel and Selah's houses covered."

Everyone started talking at once, with Simone being the loudest. Jamison went to Liam's side, and they put their heads together, going through something on his computer. Dr. Cohen and Ben descended on Klausen, piling the federal agent with demands.

Rowan felt sick, and reached across the table to hold Annabeth's hand, needing contact. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

A sharp knock on the door sounded, and all conversations halted.

"Klausen, is that one of yours?" Dr. Cohen asked.

"Don't be absurd," Klausen whispered, as if the person in the hall could hear him through the soundproof door. "I have my people staged in the areas you requested."

Rowan checked his time. "Twenty-eight minutes. I can get the party started now, but everyone needs to be ready when I punt the ball."

"What are you talking about?" Jamison asked.

The knock sounded again.

"I locked the house up," Simone said. "So, whoever is out there is one of the guards or someone they let in."

"Shit." Ben hurried to the door but didn't open it. "It's Taylor. I had a meeting this afternoon, but canceled it, and I guess I forgot to tell her."

"Step out and shut the door quickly behind you," Rowan ordered, ready to get down to it. "Simone, lock it once Ben has cleared the room, and Dr. Cohen, you can shut down the jammer."

Ben opened the door, and just as he said, it was Taylor standing on the other side. "I know I'm early," she said, teetering on her tiptoes to see past him. "Oh, wow, what are you guys doing in here? And why is there all this furniture in the hall?"

Pivoting to block her from going any further into the room, Ben placed a hand on Taylor's shoulder to guide her back into the hall. "Let's set up in the dining room."

Blushing at the physical contact, Taylor let out a breathy sigh and followed Ben, her questions forgotten.

Bernie's mouth hung slightly open when the door shut. "Who, or should I say what, was that?"

"Ben's new assistant." Simone locked the door and leaned back on it. "Whenever she's not throwing more work in his face, she's trying to hump his leg."

Rowan winced. "That is not a visual I needed in my head."

"Me either," Jamison snarled at the closed door. "I can't wait to fire her."

A loud alarm sounded from his laptop, and Rowan grinned. While Ben had been getting rid of Taylor, he had taken a sneak peek at the buzz of activity going down on the other side of his wall. "Liam?"

Liam met his gaze. They had one shot, and neither wanted it wasted. "I'm ready."

Izzy straightened in her chair, hands on the keyboard. "Ready."

Pulling out the walkie-talkie he had been provided, Klausen gave a nod. "Ready."

"Uh, Row?" Annabeth's brows furrowed. "What are you guys doing?"

"I told you," he said as Dr. Cohen shut down the jammer. "Your man is about to fuck shit up."

The jammer powered off, and Rowan dropped all defenses on their system, allowing anyone attempting to infiltrate full access. It was a risk, but seeing the mass of people flowing in, he knew it was going to be well worth it.

Immediately, he broke down their details and transferred what he was seeing to Liam and Izzy for them to relay to Klausen, and onward. No cell phones could be used as their scheme played out, and the four of them proceeded to play the most bizarre game of telephone in the Bureau's history.

"Holy shit." Izzy sucked in a sharp breath. "They're everywhere."

Signals of transmission from dozens of grounding points danced across the screen, making Rowan damn near giddy. Sinclair couldn't stand not to have his eyes on Evie but take away his ability to see or hear Jamison, and the man sent every dog he had chasing after her.

Not leaving Liam's side, Jamison tried to decipher what was on his screen. "Explain?"

"Yesterday, Rowan tested Sinclair's willingness to engage by shutting off the power and disconnecting his access to you." Liam snagged another laptop as Rowan pinned down location after location. "There was a steady flow of participants, but today with the jammer, we expected more. Our military uses this equipment all the time, and Sinclair will recognize the distortion coming through. We're banking on his curiosity over why we're using it to net a hefty sweep of his tech people."

Izzy started firing off addresses to Klausen, who repeated them into the walkie-talkie.

"You can see where they are?" Annabeth snuck in close, her face directly next to his as he worked. Simone was on his other side, grunting every time Rowan pinned a target. "And maybe catch them?"

Not taking his eyes off what he was doing, Rowan nodded. "I don't think we'll get Sinclair, but we're going to make him hurt."

"Taking power away from an egomaniac so he'll make a mistake is the oldest trick in the book," Liam said, his focus just as unwavering as Rowan's. "Well done, old man."

"Nah, not me. A well done to Mr. McIntyre." Dr. Cohen adjusted his glasses to look at Liam's computer. "How many StingRays are you working with?"

"Four each," Rowan replied while Klausen grunted in disapproval from somewhere behind them. "Including the one at Samuel's place."

"Stingray?" Annabeth whispered. "As in a fish?"

"Fake cell phone tower." Rowan lost one of the signals he was after and hissed. "Easy way to track people."

Izzy continued to read aloud to Klausen, and Bernie hustled around the room, gathering pens and paper. She and Abe took notes so Klausen wouldn't make a mistake as he spoke to his team.

Annabeth remained at Rowan's side while he pushed himself. The staggering amount of data was enough to fry the average person's brain, so it was a good thing he wasn't average. Plowing his way through, he didn't stop until the signals blinked out completely.

"Twenty-three." Rowan dropped his hands from the keyboard. Eight minutes. He'd gained twenty-three addresses in under eight minutes, with some of them coming from spots a little too close for comfort. "Ball is in your court, Klausen. We're ready to help your team with phase two and catch these bastards."

Dr. Cohen chuckled. "Run, run, run as fast as you can, motherfuckers."