“I got it,” Smith says, pushing to his feet and walking to the door.
I grab my MacBook from my bag and then sit down in a chair next to Adam. “How much dirt has Blake found on the shithead?”
“None,” he says. “You know his campaign slogan?”
“No, I do not know the fucktard’s campaign slogan.”
“Honest Gabe,” he says. “A play of Honest Abe.”
“Give me a fucking break,” I murmur. “He’s ex-CIA and a politician. He’s not got an honest bone in his body.”
“What if he does?” Adam asks again.
My jaw clenches. “Don’t start with that shit again or I will carry your ass out of this room.”
“You can’t just kill him,” Smith says, setting the pizza boxes on the coffee table. “Even if that was an acceptable answer, which it’s not, your cover is blown. You did that the minute you showed up and got arrested.”
“And he’s a senator who’s engaged to your ex,” Adam adds. “You’re an ex-mercenary. You’ll be hunted for the rest of your life. Kidnapping works the same way.”
“And then you’ll go to work for Tag again,” Adam adds. “Seems like we might have nailed his plan.”
I open the top pizza box and grab a slice. “If I choose to kill Honest Gabe, he’s dead and I won’t go to jail for killing him.”
“And you think killing him wins Candace back?”
“Undetermined.” I motion to the whiskey bottle. “Start pouring.”
“What the fuck does undetermined mean?” Smith asks, grabbing a slice of pizza.
“Tag assumes I’m like him,” he says. “Apparently, you do as well, but that’s another bitch move we’ll talk about later. Back to Tag. He assumes I kill when someone is in my way.”
I finish off my slice and Adam offers me a glass of whiskey. “I know that’s not who you are. I’m just making sure you remember that’s not who you are.”
I accept the glass and down the contents. “I know who I am. I also know that I killed because people got in his way. I just didn’t know it, which would make killing Tag my absolute fucking pleasure.”
Adam fills all of our glasses again. “Tag’s going down,” he says. “I think we can all drink to that.”
We toast and down our whiskey before I say, “Candace’s father is the one who pulled me into Tag’s operation,” I say, admitting what few know. “I can’t just take down Tag without the risk of taking down her father. I have to kill him and most of his men. That’s why you boys need to go home.”
“Holy fuck,” Adam grinds out. “Does Candace know her father’s involved with that slimeball?”
“Nope,” I say, grabbing the bottle and refilling my glass. “And she can’t know. What started as a legit black ops, off the books but legit, government operation that went south when a new administration cut the budget. He got out. I didn’t.”
“So where does Honest Gabe fit into all of this?” Smith asks. “Was the CIA a part of the black ops project?”
“There is the question,” I say. “Were they, and was he? I can’t, in fact, confirm CIA or Honest Gabe’s involvement, but is either possible? Hell yes, it’s possible. I saw a shit-ton of CIA bullshit during my Tag years. And I killed a few of those dirty bastards.”
“Were they dirty?” Adam asks. “Or did he convince you they were dirty?”
I don’t hesitate on that one. “I take killing our own seriously. The ones I killed, fuck yes. They were dirty.”
“And now one of the high-level ex-CIA bastards is engaged to your ex-fiancée,” Adam says. “I don’t like where this feels like it’s headed. What better way to get at you and Candace’s father than to go after Candace herself?”
“Playing devil’s advocate here,” Smith says. “What if Honest Gabe is honest and a good friend of Candace’s father? What if they want to take down Tag before the election? What if they’re somehow plotting against Tag? Who better to kill her fiancé than you? No one would suspect anything but jealousy.”
I grab the bottle and take a swig straight up and with good reason. In that scenario, Gabriel Manning is a good guy about to marry my woman. A good guy who might be trying to save her father. That means I’d have to save Gabriel Manning, right along with Candace’s father. I reject that idea as quickly as I consider it. I don’t care how much time has passed; I know Candace. I know when she’s happy, and she’s not happy. She’s not engaged to the love of her life, or even her hero, not yet at least, because that’s me.
I’m the guy who’s going to save her and her father. I’m her hero.
Too fucking bad she thinks I’m a monster killing machine.
Too fucking bad she’s right.
I open my MacBook and then I key up the files Blake has sent me, pulling up a photo of good ol’ Honest Gabe, a blond guy with a sharp nose and a sharper jawline. Bastard might be a little good looking, too. I stare at him and wait for recognition that I don’t find. I’ve never met him. I down another slice of pizza, reading about his awards and accomplishments. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck him. Fuck me. I grab the bottle of Johnnie Walker. “Get your own,” I say, standing up and heading to the bedroom where I sit down in a chair and down a slug of whiskey before I scroll through more of this Gabe fucker’s history. On paper, he’s perfect, but I’ll know the truth when I look him in the eyes. It’s time he and I meet, and after a quick scan of his press schedule, I decide the fundraiser he’s attending tomorrow night is the night.