Page 65
Story: Own
“You succeed, smart ass.” Lunchbox gave my shoulder a friendly bump. I was still grinning when we all returned our attention to Bones.
He just shook his head. “Check on the body armor for her. We need options. We need to vet the intel we have, Lunchbox and I will take care of that. Particularly with regard to Reznik and O’Rourke.”
Some of the humor in the room dried up.
“Since rumors of their deaths have been greatly exaggerated, I want the military records.” That might be reaching. “Intelligence had to have some idea and if they didn’t—then I want to know why.” He focused on Lunchbox. “Can you tap your guy?”
“I can, whether or not he answers, that’s debatable.” He tilted his head to the side. “Might ask Spook Lite if I can find him.”
“Spook Lite?” Grace turned wide eyes up toward Lunchbox. “Do you guys know anyone who doesn’t have a nickname?”
“We know you,” I said, and she snorted even as she grinned, which had been the goal.
“You call me Firecracker.” She made a face.
“You like it,” I countered and she stuck her tongue out at me. “Promises, promises.”
Bones cleared his throat. Killjoy. “Back to the subject. Spook Lite?”
“Yeah,” Lunchbox grunted. “I don’t think he is active anymore, at least not on their books. Under the table? Who knows, but I can touch base. See what we can see.”
“Still on the subject,” Grace said with a wrinkled nose at Bones before she looked at Lunchbox. “If Spook Lite isn’t themain person you can reach out to, who is the main one? Spook Senior?”
It was my turn to snort a laugh and even Alphabet grinned. Lunchbox met her gaze easily, but it was Bones rolling his eyes that damn near did me in.
“Actually, he goes by Redacted.” Not even an ounce of humor in Lunchbox’s deadpan response. Which was fair, cause that was what the guy went by. Fuck I couldn’t even remember what his actual name was.
“Redacted?” Grace gaped at him. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. He used to run in military intelligence. Ran more than a few ops with us and used us for others. Smart, sneaky, and just paranoid enough to be fucking brilliant at his job. He was there one day and then gone the next. Pretty sure one of the alphabets scooped him up.”
“Intelligence agencies,” Alphabet said to Grace with a faint smile. “Not me.”
“CIA, FBI, NSA—one of them.” Lunchbox shrugged. “He’s probably in some basement somewhere arguing with satellites. But Redacted always kept his fingers in, multiple strings running. Not a lot slipped by him. He liked to know things.”
“Kind of like Tyrion from Game of Thrones, with less bloodshed.” Maybe. Eh, probably not. But we didn’t need to go there.
“Regardless,” Bones said, pulling us back to the topic at hand. “Let’s see what strings we can pull and what noise it makes. Chances are, they won’t confirm or deny a damn thing, but…”
“Intel is never a bad thing.” The fact Grace finished his sentence was amusing.
“Miss Black,” he said almost primly. “You and I should have another discussion before we leave.”
“Whatever you say.” She spread her hands. “I’m here all day, clearly.”
“Hmm.” He spared her another long look before shifting his attention back to us. “Alphabet needs to stay focused on decryption. I want to know everything about their operations, vulnerable points, operators, contacts, what kind of network they are running. Those twelve names are an excellent start. But I want to gut it as well as take off the head. I really don’t care who gets the credit. When we’re finished, they won’t be an issue again.”
He didn’t have to look at Grace to underscore the why of any of that or the bottom-line. They weren’t going to be an issue for her.
“Forty-eight hours gentlemen, lady,” Bones said as he stood. “Operational readiness briefing at thirty-six. Until then, hit your tasks and rest?—”
“Wait,” Grace said abruptly. “You didn’t give me a job.”
“You secured shelter,” Bones said. “You’ll be assisting Alphabet and Goblin. I also expect you to rest and be available for other tasks as they come up. For now, you’re support.”
I braced, half-waiting for the explosion, but it didn’t come. My firecracker studied Bones for a long moment. Probably wondering if he was just giving her a shit job to keep her busy or if he actually meant it.
“I can help with translations too,” she said. “But okay.”
He just shook his head. “Check on the body armor for her. We need options. We need to vet the intel we have, Lunchbox and I will take care of that. Particularly with regard to Reznik and O’Rourke.”
Some of the humor in the room dried up.
“Since rumors of their deaths have been greatly exaggerated, I want the military records.” That might be reaching. “Intelligence had to have some idea and if they didn’t—then I want to know why.” He focused on Lunchbox. “Can you tap your guy?”
“I can, whether or not he answers, that’s debatable.” He tilted his head to the side. “Might ask Spook Lite if I can find him.”
“Spook Lite?” Grace turned wide eyes up toward Lunchbox. “Do you guys know anyone who doesn’t have a nickname?”
“We know you,” I said, and she snorted even as she grinned, which had been the goal.
“You call me Firecracker.” She made a face.
“You like it,” I countered and she stuck her tongue out at me. “Promises, promises.”
Bones cleared his throat. Killjoy. “Back to the subject. Spook Lite?”
“Yeah,” Lunchbox grunted. “I don’t think he is active anymore, at least not on their books. Under the table? Who knows, but I can touch base. See what we can see.”
“Still on the subject,” Grace said with a wrinkled nose at Bones before she looked at Lunchbox. “If Spook Lite isn’t themain person you can reach out to, who is the main one? Spook Senior?”
It was my turn to snort a laugh and even Alphabet grinned. Lunchbox met her gaze easily, but it was Bones rolling his eyes that damn near did me in.
“Actually, he goes by Redacted.” Not even an ounce of humor in Lunchbox’s deadpan response. Which was fair, cause that was what the guy went by. Fuck I couldn’t even remember what his actual name was.
“Redacted?” Grace gaped at him. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. He used to run in military intelligence. Ran more than a few ops with us and used us for others. Smart, sneaky, and just paranoid enough to be fucking brilliant at his job. He was there one day and then gone the next. Pretty sure one of the alphabets scooped him up.”
“Intelligence agencies,” Alphabet said to Grace with a faint smile. “Not me.”
“CIA, FBI, NSA—one of them.” Lunchbox shrugged. “He’s probably in some basement somewhere arguing with satellites. But Redacted always kept his fingers in, multiple strings running. Not a lot slipped by him. He liked to know things.”
“Kind of like Tyrion from Game of Thrones, with less bloodshed.” Maybe. Eh, probably not. But we didn’t need to go there.
“Regardless,” Bones said, pulling us back to the topic at hand. “Let’s see what strings we can pull and what noise it makes. Chances are, they won’t confirm or deny a damn thing, but…”
“Intel is never a bad thing.” The fact Grace finished his sentence was amusing.
“Miss Black,” he said almost primly. “You and I should have another discussion before we leave.”
“Whatever you say.” She spread her hands. “I’m here all day, clearly.”
“Hmm.” He spared her another long look before shifting his attention back to us. “Alphabet needs to stay focused on decryption. I want to know everything about their operations, vulnerable points, operators, contacts, what kind of network they are running. Those twelve names are an excellent start. But I want to gut it as well as take off the head. I really don’t care who gets the credit. When we’re finished, they won’t be an issue again.”
He didn’t have to look at Grace to underscore the why of any of that or the bottom-line. They weren’t going to be an issue for her.
“Forty-eight hours gentlemen, lady,” Bones said as he stood. “Operational readiness briefing at thirty-six. Until then, hit your tasks and rest?—”
“Wait,” Grace said abruptly. “You didn’t give me a job.”
“You secured shelter,” Bones said. “You’ll be assisting Alphabet and Goblin. I also expect you to rest and be available for other tasks as they come up. For now, you’re support.”
I braced, half-waiting for the explosion, but it didn’t come. My firecracker studied Bones for a long moment. Probably wondering if he was just giving her a shit job to keep her busy or if he actually meant it.
“I can help with translations too,” she said. “But okay.”
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