Don't... 04 Backlash (37 page)

“So you’ll
what?” said Jack. “Arrest him? After everything he’s been dragged
through?”

Gray didn’t
stop that light brush against Jan’s cheek. “No. I’ll sort it.”

Trace caught
Gray’s look as he glanced over.

“I have someone
else I need to sort out now, though.” And Trace didn’t envy whoever
the hell it was he needed to “sort” as Gray stood, pulled out his
phone, and left.

Outside by the
south wall of the manor, Gray rested against the rendering and
stared down at his phone. He hadn’t made any calls yet, the shaking
going on with his hands wouldn’t allow it.

Around him, the
quiet chatter of two pheasants as they walked across the green,
dragging their tails behind them, did a gentle joust with
autumn-like wind and rattle of leaf. He knew the fowl were there,
could pinpoint their position and dine on one fine meal tonight if
he wanted to, but he couldn’t look away from his phone. Logan’s
still sat in his pocket, but he needed his own now.

Gray hadn’t
spoken to his father for years. So what was that? His way of
getting back? Of picking out information to make sure Gray lost
everything close as penance for the shit he’d caused as a young
man?

Giving a snarl
and closing his eyes, Gray winced as he let the back of his head
hit the rendering.

As he did, the
phone slipped from his hold and into someone else’s. Gray eased his
eyes open to find Jack looking around the grounds, then resting
back by him.

“Talk,” he said
quietly. “And quickly, mukka.”

Gray snorted a
bitter smile. “I was given a bone and told to go fetch,” he
mumbled, more to himself. Jack dug his hands in his pockets, but
Gray caught the slight smirk as he looked down.

“I could have
done him some serious damage, Jack.”

“
I was
there the last time you held a gun on someone,” said Jack as he
came and leaned next to Gray. “You never even allowed for Q&A
then. So hurt Jan...?” He was quiet for a minute. “No. You’d
hurt
for
him like you do for me. Big
difference, mukka.”

“Tell him
that.”

Jack glanced at
him as he slipped a packet of cigarettes out and lit one up. Gray
looked away. Nerves always showed through in the occasional habit.
“He’s smart, Gray. And he’s still here. He’s not packing.”

Gray gave an
exhausted chuckle and Jack joined in too, the cigarette conducting
them both.

“He’s a ballsy
bastard,” said Jack, trying to control himself.

“Scared,” said
Gray. “I don’t like seeing him scared.”

They both fell
quiet, Jack to his own memories, Gray to how the two pheasants on
the green seemed to have stopped and were going in circles looking
for something.

“Who threw the
bone?”

“Hm?” said Gray
looking at Jack. The cigarette was down to the last few long draws
of breath as Jack flicked off the heated ash.

“I’ve only seen
you get torn like that when shit hits close to home. Who’s the
caller?”

Gray turned
into Jack and reached into Jack’s jean pocket for the mobile that
Jack had stolen from him, hearing a vibration also come from
Logan’s.

“Oooh,
intimate, mukka,” groaned Jack. Gray raised a brow at his hard-on.
Smokes and sex. That need to calm the nerves and get close to
someone in the fallout... Jan was right. Jack wasn’t such a tough
bastard.

Such
a sweet and sexy kid beneath all that roughness... but you know
that, don’t you, tough guy. It’s why you keep him
close?
Vince’s
words paused Gray’s touch, keeping him frowning down at Jack’s
pocket.

“Where are you
now?”

Gray looked at
Jack as he slipped his phone back in his own pocket and took out
Logan’s. They were very similar and he hoped Jack didn’t pick up
the difference. “Never far from here, stunner.”

Jack brushed a
hand down Gray’s hip, and Gray winced, pulling back.

“Old bones
there?” That smirk was too cocky.

“Damage at work
done a few days ago,” said Gray, resisting rubbing at his hip.

“Yeah, I caught
you saying that to Trace when he arrived. What did you do?”

“Just work,”
said Gray. Now wasn’t the time.

A nod came, a
look of worry, then such hard tone to grey eyes. “Then tell me who
upset you.”

Jack took a
long drawn out inhale of smoke. Gray leaned in and caught the
exhale in a kiss, sharing taste and bad habit. He fucking loved it.
Jack returned the heat, that need to know everything was okay
between them all asked in the act. He’d asked Jan the same way too
a few minutes ago. Jan’s taste was there in Jack’s kiss. Gray
closed his eyes, needing to know both were okay with him.

“
Fy
nhad
,” he mumbled,
lips still so close to Jack’s now as Gray let smoke escape his
nose.

“Hm?”

Gray eased back
against the wall and thumbed Logan’s phone now. “My father.”

Jack dropped
the cigarette and crushed it under boot. “You fuck him over for me
when you catch hold of him, yeah?”

Gray’s focus
was on the message across Logan’s screen.

Ten
hours remaining. A number will be provided, and I expect you to
give me a name. Kes.

Casting a look
up into the woods past the green, Gray held his hand toward Jack.
“Can I borrow your phone, stunner?”

Jack shifted
slightly. “What are the odds of you having a low battery?” said
Jack, shying back into the world of see no evil, even though he
knew it was under his nose. “Do you need privacy?”

Gray shook his
head as he typed a specific code so phone records couldn’t be
traced, then he thumbed in Ed’s number before sending a
message.

Get
in touch with fy nhad; give him the name Kes, then ask him what the
fuck he thinks he’s doing using Jan. What the fuck he thinks he’s
doing by interfering.

Gray got a
reply five minutes later, but it wasn’t off Ed.

Jan
wasn’t mentioned, Gray. Richards was.

Nhad.

Gray frowned,
then stalled. Richards. The anger was there that his father had
access to Jack’s phone number and that he’d known Gray had used
Jack’s phone in particular. Or had that come from Ed? Too many
fucking people were involving themselves in this. But...

Jan wasn’t
mentioned. Richards was.

“Jack,” he said
softly, “did Jan ever mention meeting your mother away from the
warehouse and the hospital?”

Jack wiped at
his nose, then dug in his pockets for another smoke. “Not that I
know of.” A cough was given and Gray frowned at the smoke. “Why?”
asked Jack.

“Nothing in
particular.” Gray eased off the wall. “Has your mom ever mentioned
a family with his surname over the years?”

“Richards?”
Jack thought about it. “Nope. Not that I can remember. My old man’s
the best one to ask.”

Gray flicked a
look up. “Go ask him for me, yeah?”

Jack looked at
him.

“It’s
important.”

“You have my
phone.”

He knew he did,
but time was fast running out, and if one person had access to
Jack’s phone, so could Kes. Gray wouldn’t give Kes the playing
space to expose Jack and Jan to seeing those photos and put them
back in the torture. Not again. “I’ll tell Ray to fetch you a new
one today.” Gray kept hold of Jack’s, and Jack’s worry only fed his
own unease. “Take Jan’s too.”

Jack nodded and
without saying anything, he headed back into the manor.

In all of the
confusion and hurt of last year, had he missed something? Seemed
the fraud was important, and last year, one other person who knew
about Jan’s fraud had been killed. Rob Kershaw.

Looking down at
Jan’s phone, Gray typed in Andrews’ number and followed Jack
inside, then into the Oval, where he could dampen messages and also
offer lockdown if needed.

“Who the fuck
is this?” Sleep filled, Andrews’ voice and the tone suggested he
didn’t like being pulled from it, especially considering it was
only touching eight o’clock. He didn’t have that politeness Gray
usually heard, and a taste of Andrews’ professional side away from
work was good to catch.

“Can you
talk?”

A hard shush
was given, suggesting Andrews wasn’t alone, then the phone
manhandled and the call no doubt scrambled at the hello and request
for a safe comm line. “Go ahead.”

“Slight change
of focus. I need autopsy details and accident report on Robert
Kershaw.” Gray gave him Rob’s address and next of kin. “Look for a
professional signature mark concerning his death.”

Quiet. “He’s
tied to Richards and his workplace.” Andrews would have found that
out when he’d helped deal with the dealer yesterday. “Did you get
my email this morning?”

Gray hadn’t.
He’d been over at A-branch most of the morning.

“639 had been
using a sophisticated cloud source; it’s why these codes weren’t
found on any of 639’s hard drives; they were stored externally. The
cloud storage space itself was built by 639, another reason why its
Internet footprint was virtually untraceable. Once Mike traced it
and got access, we found the original six-item list of 639, one
that had been app-jacked from a source we’re still looking into.
But what we found on the list, it’s a list of ours.”

Gray frowned.
“A list of MI5 ops?” He hadn’t recognised the internal acronyms;
and if there was a list of known MI5 ops circulating on the
streets.... “Were there any more codes beside the six we know?” Was
this what Kes had meant by having access to the rest of the codes?
Elena’s external cloud storage?

“No. Only the
same six codes. And not a list of MI5 ops. MI6.”

Christ. What
was Kes pushing for? Where was the rest of the list? But the
database would have picked up that they were MI6 ops. And it also
wasn’t a coincidence that his father had broken his distance too
now. “Are they historical acronyms?” MI5 utilised three letters
with a forward slash and a numerical for operatives in the field;
MI6 opted for dropping the forward slash and utilising a, b, c...
after the final numerical. His father would have recognised MI6
acronyms too.

“Yes. All six
are deceased field operatives.”

“Date when all
the list of ops would have been active together. Find out what they
were working on, who they were partnered with.”

“Already done.
No similarities found, except they were all active over twelve
years ago. Some were based overseas with only minimal ties to MI6
for safety. They share no history other than this partial
list.”

Gray rested
against his office desk. What would Kes want with a partial list of
MI6 ops from over twelve years ago? Rob was foremost on his mind,
especially as the fraud had happened roughly two years earlier than
that. Then a bad feeling crept up. “Run autopsy checks and an
unofficial investigation into the MI6 deaths on that list. Look for
a signature mark that might be similar to Kershaw’s.”

“Will do.” The
call was cut a moment later, and Gray eased his phone onto his
desk. Rob kept cropping back up and Richards was mentioned for a
reason. Everything about this felt ill, and he was missing the
carrier. Other than the names Kes and Richards.

A knock came at
the Oval door and Jack came in. “Just called my old man,” he said,
handing over Jan’s phone too. Gray peeled off the back and took out
the battery. Jan wouldn’t be exposed to any images either.

“What did he
say?”

“He doesn’t
know anyone by the name of Richards bar Jan.”

Gray put the
phone next to his own. “It sound good to talk to him?”

Jack shuffled
his feet a touch. “It’s always good to talk to him. I’m just out of
habit.”

Gray gave a
look up, then said as he left, “Then get back in habit, Jack. Give
him that.”

“And say
what?”

“That you’re
sorry for being an asshole since you were back and you want to
talk.”

Jack mumbled
something, then—“Where are you off to?”

“I need to talk
to Jan, alone.”

He ignored how
tense that seemed to make Jack.

Gray found Jan
sitting on the settee in the lounge. Dare and Gabe had been to the
kitchen and brought some beers back, which looked a damn good idea
to Gray. Jan had his feet curled up underneath him, hand twisting
the beer bottle he rested on the arm. Trace sat next to him,
talking about some game that played out on the TV. Jan didn’t seem
to be listening. Trace knew, but he still sat there trying to
breathe life into Jan.

When Trace saw
Gray, he made a point of stretching, then got up, taking his beer
with him. “Want to go watch this in the games’ room, boys?”