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“There is,” Hawke said. “OZ.”
Olivia jerked her head up. “What?”
“They likely know I’m alive and are probably looking for me. But they have no idea that we know how the cartel got this big and this powerful so fast. Remember that DEA agent who went after the cartel and was told to back down? His name is Braden Pierce. He left the agency over that, and is still pissed. Turns out he and Kate know each other from when she was in the FBI. Between the two of them, they’re putting together a small army. With OZ’s help, we can target the cartel simultaneously and bring them to their knees.”
“That’s going to take some major coordinating to get all our ducks in a row at the same time,” Eve said.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m putting one person at the communications helm.” Hawke nodded at Serena. “You okay with that?”
“Absolutely. I’ve already communicated with Kate and Pierce. Kate’s got eight people, Pierce has five. Not a huge amount, but they’re all trained professionals, and they trust them. Even with OZ’s help, we’ll be spread thin, but we should still be able to get it done.”
“We’ll work in teams of two,” Hawke said. “Each team will have a targeted location. You’ll need to learn about it backward and forward. What it contains, what kind of security exists… In other words, everything.”
“I’ve sent details to each of you about your assigned target,” Serena added.
“Olivia, you’ll team up with Liam,” Hawke said. “Eve and Gideon, you’re together. Serena will coordinate from here.”
Hawke glanced down at his phone, and though his expression didn’t change, the slight furrowing of his brow told Olivia he’d read something he didn’t like.
Raising his head, he went on as if nothing had happened. “Read through your assignment. Make note of questions. We’ll meet again tomorrow at noon.”
“Oh my gosh, guys,” Serena said. “Look at this.”
“What?” Hawke said.
She clicked something on her phone, and the big screen that had been filled with intel on the Gonzalez cartel and all the rottenness involved was suddenly changed to a photo of a brilliantly smiling Asher Drake holding a tiny newborn wrapped in a blue blanket. “Meet Joshua Yeager Drake.”
The room exploded with applause and cheers.
“Ash said Jules did great. They’re both healthy, and everything went perfectly.”
“Good news to end our meeting on,” Hawke said and exited the room.
Pushing aside the desire to stay and share in the joy everyone except Hawke seemed to be feeling, Olivia quickly excused herself and followed him. Even as awkward as he was about discussing children in any context other than rescue, his abrupt departure had been extreme.
She caught him just as he was headed upstairs to his room. “Hawke, has something happened?”
He glanced back at her, and she could see the struggle in his eyes.
“What?”
“The toxicology report came back on your mother.”
Out of all the things she’d thought he’d say, that wasn’t one of them. “What did they find?”
“Nothing conclusive.” He glanced down at his phone. “Looks like the pill she took was a cocktail of several ingredients. One of them is particularly suspicious.”
“How so?”
“The scientist from Chicago—the one who went missing—invented a drug. It’s some kind of sleeping agent. Works fast. It was designed as an alternative anesthetic for surgery. Our chemists thinks it’s been altered for a more permanent effect.”
“So the Gonzalez cartel might well be responsible for the drug that killed her.”
“Could be.”
For the first time, she wondered if her mother had resented dying that way. Iris Gates had lived a dangerous, often violent life. To simply go to sleep and not wake up was likely not the way she had wanted to go out. But who knew what her mother had thought or wanted?
“One thing,” Hawke said. “They’ve taken all the blood and tissue samples they need. They want to know what to do with the body.”