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“I still don’t understand any of this,” said Lydia. “I don’t understand how my burns and wounds were healed. I don’t understand why Mr. Matthew would pay for my college education. And I don’t understand why he would go into business with an eighteen-year-old kid who knows absolutely nothing about oil and gas.”

“Sometimes we don’t have to understand things like that,” said Katrina. “Sometimes we just need to be grateful for what we’ve been given.”

“My stepfather will try to take the land from me,” she frowned, pushing the food around the plate with her fork.

“Lydia, when I was a girl, my father wasn’t a very good man. I mean, he was always a good father. But his occupation was in the realm of organized crime and drugs. That all changed when these men entered his life. Someone kidnapped me, my uncle, and they saved me. It made my father realize that he had to change his ways.

“Now, these men could have killed my father for all he’d done. They could have easily ignored his pleas to save me or saved me and then taken me from my father. But they didn’t because they have an uncanny ability to see the good in people and to do good for them.” Lydia nodded at the woman, smiling at her.

“And my stepfather? What about him?” she asked.

“We wanted to tell you,” said Erin, looking at her. “Your stepfather is dead. The boys found him, and it appeared he’d died from an overdose of the moonshine.” Erin hoped her lie was working. She knew that someone probably poured those damn moonshine jars down his throat.

“Don’t hate me, but I’m glad,” she said. “It’s an absolute relief.”

“Lydia, did he touch you, honey?” asked Riley. She blushed, looking at her food.

“He tried. When my mother ran off, I guess he thought I’d be a suitable replacement for her. He’d been tolerable up until then. When I threatened to tell the police, that’s when he got mean, beating me for any little infraction.”

“We’re sorry, honey,” said Bree. “We can talk about it at your appointment this afternoon.”

“I think I might need to,” she nodded.

“Is my dad coming back?” asked Yarrow. “He’s not mean. He’s a good man.”

“We’re looking for your father,” said Faith. “He’s probably hiding to stay away from Hugo and his men. But our men are better. They’ll find him and keep him safe.”

“Promise?” asked the little girl.

“We promise, honey.”

“I’m done with my lunch. May I go play?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” smiled Grace. They watched as she ran toward the other children in the grove, happy to be outside in the sunshine.

“She’s struggling with blaming herself for everything,” said Bree. “She honestly believes that her dancing is what caused all these issues. I’m trying to get her to understand that this had nothing to do with dancing and everything to do with Hugo trying to control her father.”

“That’s terrible,” said Lauren. “She’s so young. I’m sure she’s finding it hard to understand the mind of an adult male with nothing but horrible intentions.”

“Who has horrible intentions?” The women all jumped, and Lydia just giggled. He stared at her, the slightest curve if his lip telling her she was safe.

“You know, you portray this big, intense, mean guy, but you’re actually really sweet. What’s the deal? Why were you such an ass to me at the bar?” she asked. The women all looked at Trak and smiled.

“You reminded me of someone I knew once. Someone I lost.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s alright, little one. She was my little sister, and I had vowed to protect her and could not. I was too late. You look like her.”

“That makes sense,” she nodded. “My mother was a quarter Chippewa.”

“Then that does make sense,” said Trak with a slight grin.

“Hey, what’s the deal with all the animals around here? I mean, I’m an animal lover, but I’ve seen some strange ones. Peacocks, flamingos, and I’m pretty sure I saw a gorilla.”

“Mr. Matthew’s wife, Irene, loves animals and hates to see them hurt in any way. If she finds animals that are in need, she brings them home. We’ve got an entire island dedicated to the animals so that they can roam free and feel safe,” smiled Grace.

“Seriously!”

“Seriously,” laughed Erin. “Would you like to go and see them?”

“Really?” she asked excitedly.

“Really,” said the women in chorus.

“Yes! I always wanted a dog when I was little, but my stepfather wouldn’t allow me to have one.”

“Well, prepare yourself,” laughed Lauren, “you’re about to meet an entire zoo.”

Lauren kissed her husband as they made their way toward the docks with Lydia. He watched the women leave, then looked at Antoine and Miller walking toward him with trays of food.

“We thought you’d be hungry,” smirked Antoine, setting the tray down. Trak nodded his thanks as the other senior members came toward them.

“We were listening on comms and watched the video. Obviously, we double-checked Hugo in the veteran files. It’s definitely an alias. The tech boys are still trying to pull a good image from the capital cameras. It seems Hugo likes wearing hats to cover his features.”

“It’s not like them to take so long,” said Miller.

“That’s why we’re giving them a wide berth. Either this guy is squeaky clean prior to all of this, or he’s had facial reconstruction, and we may never know who he really is.”

“Yes, we will,” said Pigsty, walking toward them.

“What do you mean?” asked Gaspar.

“I mean, although his facial features have been difficult to nail down, we had some other indicators as to his identity.” He laid out several photos on the table and started at the left. “This was one of the first visits to the capitol. He was asked to remove his jacket to go through security. You can see that at first he doesn’t want to, then finally gives in and lays it in the bin.”

“Okay, what does that mean?” asked Nine.

“His arms are bared, which shows us several very interesting tattoos.”

“Hey, that’s a Corps tattoo,” said Ghost.

“No, it’s not,” said Rory, standing at the end of the table with Piper. “Look at the detail. The eagle’s wings aren’t spread. They’re close to the body.”

“Damn. You’re right,” frowned Nine. “He’s trying to make others believe he’s a Marine. But why?”

“Maybe he thinks it will get people to follow him. What else is there, Pigsty?” asked Ian.

“Several tattoos that are seriously random. Birds, a dog, but then this one. It’s very faint and very hard to make out.”

“I can’t see what it is,” said Ghost. “It’s just a blur.”

“We ran it through the system that Ivy uses when she’s trying to bring clarity to old photos. When we did, this is what we got,” he said, tossing another photo down.

“Is that…”

“Yep. Merchant Marine. I’m guessing he just decided he would change which marine he actually is. The tattoo is old and faded, so I’m going to guess he got it when he first joined. I don’t see any others, so he may have left after just one tour.”

“So, he would have served five years and then maybe left. We can find records through the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy. We just need a date range,” said Ghost.

“We don’t need one. This shows his year of graduation,” said Pigsty, pointing to the photo. “We’re pulling the records and photos for those that enrolled during that year. We’ll let you know when we find something.”

“Nice work,” said Gaspar. “I’ll come check on you guys in a little while to see if we’ve found anything else.” Nine frowned at the others, shaking his head.

“So, he was a merchant marine faking that he was in the USMC. We’ve seen applicants who fake claims of their heroics in the military or as first responders. Why? The merchant marines are a tough bunch of bastards. They have to guard ships of commerce all over the world and are generally trained and armed. Even in history they’ve fought with the Navy. Why downplay that? And especially, why downplay it if it has nothing to do with selling moonshine on the black market.”

“I’m not sure,” said Ian, “but we’ll definitely figure it out. Or I should say the geeks will figure it out. We’ll do our best to not interfere.”