Page 58 of The Maverick (WaterFyre Rising #7)

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

ATTIKUS

Two days off with Vanessa had cleared my head to return to work. I told Vanessa I had a business trip and would be back in two days.

Reality flooded me with information. Detective Farmer didn’t obtain any new information about the two men who had attacked Miranda. One of them had died at the scene and the other of a heart attack in prison.

Paul Exinor had been in and out of consciousness at Forrest’s clinic, so we weren’t sure how helpful he could be. But we held on to hope. Who had sent him to kill Sam Thornton?

The boys and I had a quick meeting to review our plans. Though I had taken time off to be with Vanessa, I’d ensured things were set in motion. When the boys confirmed our plan was ready, I headed to Chicago to meet Milton Kalkounis.

He was lying low at an Ultra Health and Fitness location in Chicago. Milton took the bait when he heard about a potential client who needed to look buff for a new role in an upcoming movie. He loved it when I told him I’d pay anything for his help.

I sat in the tenth-floor lounge of a hotel I owned. It wasn’t as busy as the ground-level lounge. If Milton Kalkounis didn’t give me what I needed, I had no qualms about pushing him over the railing to his death.

My men occupied ten tables scattered around the lounge area. I had no doubt the fucker had recorded the beatingyears ago. Though he didn’t beat me that day, he was part of the crime by recording it. He had to know where Ashton was hiding.

I held a tumbler of whiskey as I waited, scanning the area for Milton Kalkounis. A man like him would probably bring backup. I wouldn’t address him by Jean-Claude Dumas.

Seconds later, Milton Kalkounis walked into the lounge, wearing a crisp dark shirt and slacks. He had dyed his short blond hair black. No one was with him, but that didn’t mean his men weren’t on the ground level waiting for him.

I glanced at the two men at a nearby table, who understood what needed to be done. They stood and headed downstairs to ensure Milton’s men didn’t come up here.

Milton turned to the host. “I’m here to see Jonathan Wellbridge.”

“Mr. Wellbridgeis sitting in the far right corner by the railing.”

I tapped my phone, turned it on, and looked outside, where the large windows were open to allow fresh air to enter. My back would face Milton when he arrived.

“Jonathan Wellbridge? I’m Jean-Claude Dumas,” he said in his fake French accent.

I rolled my eyes and turned to greet him.

He recognized me immediately and tried to bolt, but my men rose from their seats.

“Don’t move,” I ordered, “or things will get ugly.”

He glanced at the men surrounding him.

“Empty your pockets and place everything on the table. If you don’t,I’ll toss you over the railing, and you’ll discover how hard Chicago sidewalks are.” I looked at him. “I’m not as patient as I used to be.”

He placed his phone and wallet on the table. One of my men approached, patted him down, and moved Milton’s phone and wallet to another table.

When he was cleared, I gestured to the chair across from me. “Sit.”

“What do you want?” He sat in the chair.

“What do I want?” I finished my whiskey and placed the tumbler down. “That’s a loaded question. But since you asked, here goes—I want Ashton to pay for what he did to my family and me. I want him to die like Bobby and Harry.” I smiled. “But his death will be worse.”

A question sparked in his eyes. “You killed them?”

“It took me a long time to locate them.” I leaned into the table. “I want everyone involved in my family’s murder and my beating to pay. Blood for blood. Even the person who took the video.”

Color drained from his face. “How do you know?”

“I know a lot of things, Milton. In war, you need patience to win. And I had years to figure things out.”

He shook his head. “It’s not what you think.”

“What should I think?” I eyed him. “If you’re trying to tell me it wasn’t Ashton, Bobby, and Harry who broke my leg and left me crippled, don’t bother. I know what happened that day.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He scratched the back of his head, looking nervous. “What happened to you was awful, but they didn’t burn down your house.”

This was something I hadn’t expected. “Who did?”

His lips trembled. “They’re going to kill me.”

“Who?” I demanded. “If you don’t tell me, what do you think will happen to you? Do you think I’ll have more mercy than they will? Who murdered my family and burned down my house?”

“The Trogyn.”

Shock washed over me, but I didn’t want him to see it. “Why did they murder my family?”

“I don’t know. But the Lindor and Harris families work for them. Your mom knows something about them.”

My mother? She was a lunch lady at an elementary school. She wasn’t a threat to anybody. Had I gotten everything wrong? It didn’t make any sense.

“Where is Ashton? Who’s hiding him?”

“I don’t know.” Fear sparked in his eyes. “You can toss me over the railing if you want, but I don’t know. Whenever he needs something, he calls me from a burner phone. But something is different about him.”

“Like what?”

“He sounds different.”

Maybe Ashton had assumed a new identity and was playing out the new role. He was in the drama club in high school, so acting wasn’t hard for him.

“So he calls you, but you never call him?”

Milton shook his head. “He calls when he needs something. Then he wires money into my bank account.”

“You killed Emmanuel, and you killed Miranda. Why?”

“I didn’t kill them!” he exclaimed, losing the French accent altogether.

“Let me rephrase that. Why and how did you get those CIA agents to do the killings for you?” Ipinned him with my eyes. “Be careful how you answer that question. I only want the truth. Every time you lie to me, you’ll lose a finger.”

He blinked and considered me. “You’re not the same Attikus. “

“A man adapts when dealing with monsters.” I gave him a cold stare. “How can I be the same when my life was turned upside down?”

“I had nothing to do with that.”

“When you run in the same evil circle, you’re part of it.” I leaned back in the chair. “That’s how the game goes. Now, answer my question.”

Big Mike, one of my security men, approached, standing to the side, ready for my order. He was part of an elite team that conducted underground business for me. My friends and I couldn’tfight The Trogyn in ethical ways.

Milton swallowed. “Those agents are part of a military research program called HADES.”

“What does the program do?”

“Drug and behavioral experimental shit.” Fear filled his eyes.

“You mean mind control?”

This was a conspiracy theory that had been all over the internet for a while. But I had never considered it to be true.

Milton scrubbed the hand down his face. “That’s what I heard.”

“You’re lying.” I flicked him a disbelieving look. “What have you witnessed?”

He shifted in the seat and blew out a breath.

“The drugs they used are powerful shit. It shuts off your mind. Then they play these recordings with voices and sound waves to train your mind. You become a different person—angry and violent.” He paused.

“And you don’t remember anything once the serum wears off. ”

This was why Paul Exinor couldn’t remember killing his coworker, Sam Thornton. Maybe Paul’s mission was to kill Emmanuel if Sam failed.

“What happens if you inject too much of the serum?”

“The person dies. Serum99 is extremely potent.”

Which probably meant it was the ninety-ninth version of evil.

“Where is the research based?” I asked.

“I wasn’t privy to that information. If I ask them, they’ll suspect me. So I don’t ask questions that will pose a threat.”

“Why did you force Emmanuel to blackmail Nessa Lambert, who’s now my wife ?”

Milton wiped his palms on his thighs. “She wasn’t the original target. I needed money to pay a debt and knew she was a successful artist who sold expensive art. She was convenient because she was his ex.”

He’d terrorized her because it was convenient? My fingers itched to pound his face.

“What do you mean she wasn’t the target?”

“My order was to target people around you . In the beginning, Nessa wasn’t part of the picture. She was a tenant leasing your property until you announced your engagement.” A bead of sweat slid down the side of his face. “Now she’s on their radar.”

Fuck. Vanessa’s proposal for the marriage had backfired in the most unexpected way. She had wanted me to save her from the blackmail, but I’d made her Ashton’s primary target.

“You sent the principal’s finger to the gallery opening?”

“Ashton told me to. He knew you’d be there because you love art shit. But he told me not to leave a name on the box to throw you off. Ashton knew you’d been unsuccessfully searching for him. I guess the finger was his way of saying FU.”

“Why did he have to kill the principal’s entire family?”

“Stephen Perry didn’t want to work for Ashton anymore. The Lindor and Perry family know each other well.”

“Was Ashton part of the Trogyn when we were in high school?”

Milton nodded. “His entire family was.”

That explained why he believed he was untouchable and could do whatever he wanted without getting into trouble. If I destroyed the Lindor family, that would be a tremendous blow to the crime organization.

“Do you know any members of The Trogyn besides Ashton?”

“No.”

Milton was a small fish in The Trogyn. He was replaceable. I wasn’t surprised he knew little details. The Trogyn only offered important information to elite members.

“Do you know who’s running HADES?”

“Dr. Nico Messina. He’s creepy. Kind of out there, you know?”

“The doctor who works at Brigham and Women’s Hospital and teaches at Harvard Medical?”

“I think so.”

Dr. Nico Messina was in residency when I was in the hospital. Had Nico killed Dr. Noah Marks, who’d cared for me?

My phone buzzed. I picked it up and glanced at the screen before placing it face down again. My men had confirmed that the three men waiting for Milton had been apprehended and were locked in a room waiting for me.

Milton glanced around nervously, probably wondering where his men were.

“You can stop looking for them. No one’s coming up here.”

His eyes widened. “What do you want from me?”

Initially, I’d wanted him dead. But a new idea percolated in my mind. I could delay his death a little longer.

“If you want to live, you need to help me.” I steepled my fingers. “Why did you change your name and pretend to be French?”

“Have you heard of the Claude family?”

“No clue. Who are they?”

“An extremely wealthy family in France with ties everywhere. They come from old money. They’re connected to other wealthy families all over the world.”

Perhaps Orion would know them. The Reimann family was also a powerful banking family with old money.

“Ashton got me a gig to work for The Trogyn. But for them to trust me, I had to show my allegiance by becoming part of their ‘family.’ They gave me a new name and told me to act like I was Jean-Claude Dumas. They’re very proud of their heritage.”

“And you sold yourself for money,” I said. “Why aren’t you just Jean-Claude?”

“Because there are too many of them.”

“What else do you know that can save your life today?”

He linked his trembling hands on the table and looked at me. Then he poured out everything he knew, hoping I would have mercy on him.

Shock, confusion, and rage collided inside me. But I had to confirm everything before acting on it. For all I knew, Milton was playing both sides.

My men brought him to a soundproof room down the hall.

I turned off the recording on my phone and remained seated for a few minutes.

The events of that fateful day played in my head like an awful movie.

I saw the faces of my father, mother, and sister.

What I was about to do was for them and for me.

It wouldn’t bring them back, but it would give them a sliver of justice.

I rose from my seat and headed toward the room. Milton sat in a metal chair at a table with a tray covered by a cloth.

I approached him. “Which hand recorded the beating?”

His lips trembled. “We had a deal! I’m supposed to help you!”

“The deal is still on—you won’t die.” I slipped on latex gloves. “You lied to me earlier, so you need to pay.” I jerked my chin toward his hands. “Which one?”

I sensed the fear pumping off him. I remembered my younger self experiencing the same fear while Milton had recorded three heinous boys beating me. I could have died that day. People like them didn’t deserve mercy. They were bullies then, but now they were abhorrent monsters.

Milton’s right hand trembled as he lifted it slightly.

Big Mike gripped his wrist and slammed it down on the table.

I grabbed a large knife and chopped off all his fingers except the middle one.

His screams filled the room, and he passed out.

My men treated his hand, stopped the bleeding, and inserted a tiny device under the fingernail of his middle finger.

They wrapped it in gauze and waited for Milton to regain consciousness.

Milton Kalkounis had a message to deliver to Ashton for me.