I Am Justice (Black Ops Confidential 1)

Justice bent forward, hands against her stomach. “I hate him.”

It might not sit well with her, but she should know what he suspected about Cooper. Sandesh got out of his chair and dropped to his knees. He smoothed out her hair. “Justice. Judging by his condition, Coop resisted interrogation. And you should know, he painted pictures of you and Hope. They were all over the apartment. I think—”

Her head shot up, nearly hitting him. “Don’t. Don’t say it.” She wiped angrily at her eyes. “He was an asshole. And Bridget. Bleeding heart. She brought Coop here. Probably hoped we’d have a relationship. Macro-view. Like she has more of the bigger picture than anyone else. Please. She’s so much into peace that she won’t even eat dairy from a cow. That has to screw with your head.”

Macro-view?

Leland moved around the desk, pressed a button on the phone. “Tucker, where is Bridget Leigh Parish?”

There was the clicking of a keyboard, a moment of silence, and then, “In her office.”

“Have someone bring her to Mukta’s office on 4B. Posthaste.”

He clicked off. Leland exhaled a sound coated with age and regret and acceptance. “While we wait, I think we should discuss how we’re going to eliminate the very real threat Walid still poses.”

Chapter 58

Justice appreciated the lifeline Leland had thrown her. He knew that action was better for her than the silent brooding of waiting for Bridget and thinking about Cooper.

Cooper.

Dead.

Tortured.

She’d never understood before that saying about people who weren’t “comfortable in their own skin.”

Now emotions sliced worries across raw nerves. She had always known what was right: her family. And what was wrong: those who went against her family. But damn it to all hell, losing Bridget felt wrong. She wanted to scratch at her arms, legs. Anything other than endure this helpless, aching hurt.

Cooper dead.

Bridget a traitor.

Enough. Focus on Walid. And sarcasm. “Going after Walid with all the school scrutiny going on right now will be super easy.”

“Easy or not,” Sandesh said, his voice military sharp, a knife honed to its finest edge, “we have to assume Walid knows who you are, Justice. So we get him.”

Overprotective? “Think the FBI will want to tag along?”

Sandesh laughed.

“About that,” Leland said, “Sandesh has a good idea about how to get you out right under the nose of the FBI.”

Justice’s heart jumped up and cheered, doing the splits, pompoms and all. “Oh, Sandy, you’ve been busy.”

“Well, the first part was easy. Your birthday.”

Her birthday? Her stomach turned over. “We’re going to have a party?”

The hammer of condemnation left a loud gong of silence. She didn’t care. This was crazy. Having a party after all this shit.

The jingle of Momma’s bracelets disrupted the stillness. “This is what we do, Justice. Distract with one hand, so no one looks at the other. In this case, the FBI will have their hands full with the guest list and the party. They won’t pay attention to your antics.”

“My antics?”

Leland and Momma exchanged another look, this one slightly uncomfortable. Probably some kind of silent signal, because Leland took over. “You do have a reputation as a party girl. One of the Parish Princesses.”

Gag. She hated that. “Yeah. So?”

“So you make a show of getting drunk. Grab the mic. Thank people for coming. Say it was your best birthday ever. And then say something about Sandesh. Some innuendo. The two of you dance. Make it obvious you are going to leave and be together. Alone.”

Leland. The man couldn’t be direct.

“Basically,” Justice said, “dry hump Sandesh on the dance floor, make everyone uncomfortable, so when we leave, they assume we are going to fuck and not going to Mexico to take down a sex-slaver.”

Sandesh coughed into his hand. She looked over at him. A red flush covered his face. What? Something she said? “Come on, Sandy. You know you love it.”

“I’ll admit I like your version better than Leland’s.”

She smiled. Her chest still felt tight, but better somehow with him here.

“But how about once we get there? How do we…? Leland, Tony mentioned something about a letter. One in which he outlined a plan to take the Brothers out separately. He said he’d figured out how to get into the compound.”

Leland’s broad shoulders tensed.

Okay. “You know what I’m talking about?”

He sighed. “The letter was a rather senseless rant at your mother for perceived wrongs, and also gave his plan for the BG operation. He wanted it brought to a vote.”

Momma turned her face to him. “But now, the plan might work.”

Leland, implacable Leland, reddened. “Perhaps. If we can get Dada’s man to help bring our agents inside.”

“She’ll do it.” Justice was sure of it. “But we have to promise to bring Juan out with us.”

Someone knocked on the door. Everyone in the room froze.

Bridget.

No one spoke. No one moved. No one breathed.

If Justice could have put a knife to the tension, it would probably have snapped back and killed someone.

Justice got to her feet and moved so she stood by the side of the desk. Sandesh did the same. Momma stood with help from Leland.

Finally, Momma managed, “Enter.”

* * *

Standing in Momma’s inappropriately whimsical office, Bridget looked like a cross between a yogi and a math nerd with her lopsided bun and dark-framed reading glasses. Her face held a serene expression.

Justice wanted to slap her. She’d just accused the woman of betraying their family, of conspiring with Cooper, and she stood there as if purity itself.

“What the fuck, Bridge? Say something.”

Bridget eased her shoulders back. She had great posture. “I am ready for whatever punishment you see fit to give me.”

“You admit this?” Momma leaned a hand on her desk. Her eyes, always so clear, seemed cloudy and confused. “Tell me, Daughter. This is important. If you have any reason to cover for another, you must not. We need to be able to trust the others.”

Bridget turned her head. “You don’t have to worry about the others. You can trust them.”

Justice’s stomach rolled, hit a guardrail, and plunged over a ravine. She wanted to walk over and shake Bridget. Ask her what she ever did to deserve that kind of hatred. But she put that shit on hold. Sort of. “Why? Why did you do it?”

Bridget shook her head. Her eyes darted back and forth between her and Sandesh, Momma and Leland. “It was done to keep you safe. To keep all of you safe.”

Justice pointed a finger at her. “Safe? Telling Walid I was after him in Jordan, giving him step-by-step directions to track and find me, to kill me? How was that to keep me safe?”

“That wasn’t how it happened. Cooper was a go-between. Walid’s men tracked his digital trail, found a computer in his apartment that was being used to track you.”

Tracking her? And Bridget was worried about Justice’s soul?

“How was it tracking her?” Leland asked. His normally gruff voice even deeper, sounded like he’d eaten a razor blade.

A hot flush crept across Bridget’s cheeks. “Using a copy of the software the League invented to ping and track the GPS. That way, the risky act of checking League computers was unnecessary.”

Justice’s stomach rolled again. The locket felt suddenly hot against her skin. Not a locket. It was a miniature of her father’s betrayal. She walked to her sister, stabbed a finger at her chest. “You deserve to lose your memory of this place. You deserve to no longer have any of this.”