Page 30 of Storm and Tempest (Brand of Justice #13)

“That’s a SWIFT ID, like a bank identifier, and an account and routing numbers.” Brian stared at it. “That’s a US bank, but I’m unfamiliar with the abbreviation for the name of the bank. After the bank code and country code, there’s a location and the branch code.”

“So we can ascertain where this bank is?” Sounded good to him.

The information would tell him more than the impersonator likely planned to.

She was a trained operative, and he didn’t agree with enhanced interrogation.

Causing someone so much pain that they talked didn’t get them to tell the truth—it only got the person to tell you whatever you wanted to hear.

Not exactly reliable. There wasn’t any available truth serum on the market that was any more effective than torture.

Which meant she had to have a genuine reason to tell them the truth that was more powerful than her drive to follow orders.

Maizie would be able to trace the account.

That made him wonder if they shouldn’t allow the money to move out of Kenna’s accounts and then put some kind of tracker on it so they could see where it went. Into the Dominatus coffers, surely.

Hopefully, the paper that woman had on her were the correct numbers, not a set of fake ones in case she was caught.

The bank employee nodded. “If you—” Whatever Brian had been about to say was cut off by a crash.

A hoard of FBI agents strode into the bank in bulletproof vests with their weapons drawn. From this side of things, they looked kind of…obnoxious. Was that how people perceived them? Could just be because he was at odds with them.

Leading the charge was Special Agent Andrette Herron.

Once the “FBI!” and “Everybody freeze!” had died down because no one was doing anything, she said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, take a load off. Nobody leaves yet. Once you’ve talked to us and we’ve cleared you, then you can go. We’ll try and make this as quick and painless as possible.”

She strode over to where Ramon had Elliot facedown on the ground. “Special Agent Adams?” She seemed genuinely surprised to see him.

Elliot said nothing, still secured with his hands tied behind his back and his head turned so he could look at them. Until he gave up and slumped to the floor, evidently exhausted.

“He didn’t transfer out of the Phoenix office,” Jax said. “He was kidnapped. Someone murdered his sister, and it’s all connected to my wife’s disappearance.” Maybe he should’ve said that Elliot was put in protective custody.

Too late now.

Andrette holstered her weapon, and the other agents disbursed around the room. Ramon backed up from Elliot, and a couple of agents helped him stand.

“No!” The Kenna lookalike rushed out of the room, twisting her shoulders to avoid Zeyla’s grasp. “Jax!” She found him. “How could you do this?” Actual tears rolled down her cheeks.

Andrette said, “I thought she was missing?”

“What?” Jax frowned, looking at the woman pretending to be Kenna. “What!”

“You know how I feel about Mark!” She gasped. “All I’m trying to do is leave you, and you’re making it as hard as possible for me to be free of you. Don’t you get it? It’s over! We’re over!”

The vibe in the room shifted, and it wasn’t positive.

Before he could argue with fake Kenna, she continued her tirade, “Just let me go. I don’t want to be trapped anymore.”

Jax’s jaw ached he clenched it so hard. “That’s what you want everyone to think? These people have met you. They know you’re not my wife.”

“Then why aren’t you letting me leave you?” she wailed. A second later, she spun around. In a moment, she drew Zeyla’s weapon from the holster at her back. She pointed it at Jax. “Let me go!”

The agents in the room whipped their guns out and aimed at her. “Put it down!”

“Put the weapon down, Kenna!” Andrette walked toward her, taking the lead. “Put it down!”

Jax saw the shift in her intention. She swung the gun toward Andrette, her finger on the trigger. Andrette fired. Several of the other agents fired as well, eliminating the lead that was the Kenna lookalike impersonating his wife.

Zeyla had gone from the doorway, and Jax heard her scream.

Jax yelled, “Stop!”

Their target was down.

Jax ran past Andrette and shoved the barrel of her gun down, wincing when he found it hot to the touch. He raced by the dead woman into the room. Zeyla lay on Maizie, blood on the back of her shoulder.

“Zeyla!”

She groaned. “Ouch!”

He turned back. “Get a medic!”

“I don’t want a doctor.” She shifted up, and he helped her by the elbow.

Ramon reached the doorway. “You’re hit?”

She moved off Maizie. “Ouch.”

“Maze?” Jax brushed back hair from her face. “You good?”

“I think Zeyla broke my iPad.” She shifted up from the floor, moving back to sit on her behind. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

Zeyla lifted her fist, and Maizie tapped it.

“Ouch.” Zeyla slumped back to the floor. “That hurts.”

Ramon crouched behind her, touching her shoulder. “Pretty nasty graze.”

“No doctors.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “You take care of it.”

Ramon’s jaw shifted. “Fine.”

Jax shook his head. “Elliot has a lot to explain.”

He looked around the bank at the ocean of FBI agents and the dead woman on the ground who’d pretended to be his wife. And apparently done well at it, given his colleagues were now looking at him with some serious pity.

Great .

“Forget it,” Jax said. “Let’s get out of here.”