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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Taz

Hunched over his computer in the lab, Taz basked in the blue glow as his nervous energy peaked. His head was pounding, but he couldn't stop now. The moment he’d discovered the news about the mystery General’s alleged suicide, something inside of him had snapped. Snapped and shattered and splintered into a million pieces. He wasn't even sure why this particular thing was the final straw, not when he thought about every single other more personal attack he and his friends had suffered, but he wasn't about to try and examine the why. The why didn't matter. The why was irrelevant. He had a job to do, and like he had promised Bella, he held the unlit match in his hand with every intention of burning down the haystack to find the needle hiding inside.

The mole was still out there, feeding their enemies everything they needed to keep the corruption spreading like a goddamn disease. Driven by a manic need to do something, anything, to make it stop, Taz developed a plan. It was a half-baked plan at best. Luke was liable to kick his ass to the curb once he figured it out, but that was a problem for future Taz. Another problem to add to a laundry list of problems. Hell, for all he knew, it would solve his most major problem—the fact that he was a disappointment and that Luke and all their friends would be better off without him.

Determined, Taz’ fingertips flew over the keyboard as he crafted the perfect bait. A single message, disguised as routine chatter, sat ready to deploy into an unsecured internal FBI channel. With a nod to no one but himself, he hovered for a brief moment before slapping the enter key with more force than necessary.

“Intercepted intel. Hidden archive related to The Wolf. Full database of names flagged for retrieval. Priority Level: High.”

Now for the icing on the cake. Taz dropped a location pin with a timestamp for pick up. The coordinates were carefully selected by him as the perfect place for his trap—a deserted underground parking garage on the outskirts of DC. It was ideal. Remote. Isolated. Surrounded by a surveillance dead zone. It had taken him hours to find this perfect location. Hours of scrolling through street cams and nearby businesses to ensure that no one would see a damn thing. If the mole took the bait, he’d be flying blind with no backup. Taz didn't think too long or hard about the fact that he would also be flying blind. Details like that didn't matter. He didn't matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. He read over his message again to avoid thinking about the implications. It was just vague enough to raise alarms and just urgent enough to force a move. Now, all he had to do was get there in time. He shot Luke a quick text with his bullshit cover story. Dinner w/ Lily. Back late. Don't wait up. Love you, Luke. More than you’ll ever know. He was quick to turn the phone off. He went a step further and pulled the battery out before locking it in his desk drawer. It's better this way, he told himself. He could lie to himself no problem. Lying to Luke sat like a stone in his chest. With another shaky exhale, he grabbed his backpack and snuck out of the headquarters before anyone was wiser.

The parking garage was worse than Taz’ overactive imagination had envisioned. The fact that it was even standing was a marvel of physics. The husk of concrete and dank shadows made the November night feel even chillier. Despite the cold, the stale scents of oil, musty dirt, and old gasoline clung to the air and clawed at his sinuses. Faint, flickering light seeped through the cracks and fissures of the walls to paint eerie patches of sickly yellow light onto the cracked pavement beneath his ratty Converse. Taz kept himself huddled in the deep pocket of darkness alongside a pillar marked with stupid graffiti that would have made him laugh if he were in the mood for humor. Dan sux mad ballz. Good for you, Dan. Good for you.

He flexed his hands as his heart beat like a hammer against his ribcage. He wasn't a fighter. He never had been. But he wasn't walking away without answers. It took a lot of effort to resist the urge to check the tiny camera clipped inside his jacket. Liam and Leon would discover it missing eventually. Same with the hidden mic inside the front pocket of his backpack. He just hoped that, in the event of the worst case scenario, Theo would be able to help the buffoons decipher the password he’d left on an index card where the stolen items had once resided. Gotta love the Cloud. At least if he died or disappeared, the evidence would remain. If he achieved anything with his life, let it be this. He was lost to his maudlin musings when the first footfalls snapped him to attention.

Slow, deliberate footsteps crept closer and closer as Taz held his breath and huddled closer to the column of cement. He nearly squeaked in fear as a figure emerged from the gloom because of how tightly wound his nerves were. He definitely scoffed out loud when the figure became identifiable in the darkness.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Todd?!” Taz stepped out of the shadows with a wild gesticulation of his hands. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

Todd Jerring, the utterly inept whiny weasel of a man, stopped short in a puddle of light. Todd, the fuckface dipshit who nearly bungled the entire operation to take out the warehouse where the bio weapon lab had been housed. Todd, who could barely string together a functional piece of code, even if his life depended on it. Todd fucking Jerring, who’d plagued Taz with a dozen “anonymous” HR complaints ever since Taz had told him to sit down and shut the fuck up while he did all the work to keep their field agent’s safe that ill-fated day.

“You're the fucking mole?!” Taz shook his head and scoffed again.

“Should've known it was you causing problems.” Todd stopped a few feet away, his arms crossed and his lip curled in disdain.

“Didn't take you long to bite, dipsicle.”

Todd’s hands flailed as he wailed his offense. “Because you're sloppy. You always have been. Half the shit you touch should have been the job of someone more competent!”

“Oh, competent? Like you? Mr. I can't even script my way out of a wet paper bag. Please, fuck all the way off, asshat.”

“I can too!” Todd took another step forward as his eyes flashed in anger. “You don't deserve this job! You deserve a jail cell! But no, you're the fucking Golden Boy with a buff boyfriend to hide behind.”

Anger flared in Taz’ chest. “Is that why you sold out? Because you're fucking jealous?!”

“You got handed everything because of who you fucking know! You aren't a real agent. You're a fucking charity case—a PTSD- ridden waste of a position that should've gone to someone actually qualified for the job!”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Taz said the words to himself often enough, but it hit different when Todd fucking Jerring was the one spitting the venom. “That was all it took to make you betray your country?”

“You think this country gives a shit about people like us? Do you really think anyone in that building gives a shit about you?” Todd laughed, a sinus-y sound that sent a shiver down Taz’ spine for how cold and humorless it rang out, echoing through the abandoned car park. “They chew us up and spit us out for fun. I'm just making sure I am on the right side of things when the house of cards collapses. I call it job security.”

Taz took another step closer as his pulse roared. “You are a sick fucking coward.”

“Says the guy hiding behind his boyfriend’s badge.” Todd’s mouth twisted into a facsimile of a smirk.

He swung without thinking. The punch cracked against Todd’s jaw and sent him stumbling back as pain shot up Taz’ arm. He swore and shook out his hand, unaware of how much of a mistake the momentary distraction was. Todd recovered his footing and lunged. Taz barely had time to raise his arms before Todd slammed into him, driving them both into the concrete pillar. Another lightning strike of white hot pain exploded down Taz’ spine and drove the air from his lungs as he scrambled to throw Todd off balance, their bodies hitting the damp asphalt as they grappled for dominance.

For all the shit Taz had talked about Todd over the months, the fucker was strong. Strong and mean. He fought like someone who’d dreamed of putting Taz in the dirt. The blows rained down with merciless force and then a knee drove into his ribs and robbed him of even more oxygen. Fingers clawed at his throat as Taz gasped and struggled to shove Todd’s body off. They rolled, grunting and cursing, until a glint of silver flashed in the macabre light. A knife. Todd had a fucking knife. He reacted a second too late and the burn of the metal slicing the flesh of his forearm made him cry out before survival instincts took over. He grabbed Todd’s wrist, twisting hard as they wrestled on the hard scrabble ground.

It was kill or be killed. He didn't know how it happened, but the blade wavered, warped, twisted in and out of the shadows tangled between them and then it disappeared—right between Todd’s ribs. His face froze in horror. His eyes went wide. His mouth opened, a twisted maw gasping around a silent scream. His body convulsed. And then he went limp, becoming dead weight as sticky hot liquid pulsed over Taz’ hand.

Taz scrambled back, his breathing labored as the realization and panic slammed into him like a tidal wave.

“No. No. No, no, no.”

Todd convulsed again, wheezing out a sick, horrible, wet sound before growing still. Completely still. Too still.

Taz’ breath hitched in his throat before a gut-deep retch overtook him. His hands quaked. His mind screamed at him to move, to run, to disappear, but shock kept him frozen in place as his vision pulsed and swam and threatened to go dark. Blindness would have been preferable to staring at the unmoving body in front of him. He had just killed a man. Even in self-defense, even knowing Todd was the mole, it didn't change the horror gripping his chest in a vice.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, this ain’t good.” The oddly familiar voice reverberated through the garage as footsteps clattered over the pavement. Taz barely registered the sounds as his gaze remained locked on the slowly growing pool of blood creeping closer to his shoes. Hands gripped his shoulders and shook.

“Taz. Taz, listen to me, cher.” Beau? That didn't make sense. Nothing made sense.

“D-did you f-follow—”

“Of course we followed you, sweetheart.” Beau crouched down in front of him, his affable expression turned grim in the dim lighting. “Taz, we have to go.”

Taz stammered but no words came out as he watched the other man, the bigger man, crouch down and check for a pulse. His silent shake of the head sent Taz spiraling even harder. Beau answered with a silent nod before hauling Taz to his feet by sheer force.

“Clean it up, Ty.”

The larger man grunted in reply as Beau dragged Taz away on uncooperative feet. His legs were unsteady and his stomach lurched violently, but he couldn't look away. He couldn't make himself look away. Even if he could, Taz had a feeling those dead eyes would continue staring through him. Staring right through his soul to find all the other dirty secrets he tried to keep hidden from the world. The last thing he saw before his world went dark were those empty, bottomless eyes. The unseeing, all-seeing eyes of a man he’d killed.