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SIXTEEN

emmanuel

“Tell me,” Jer urges the moment I step into his office.

“The transfer was denied yet again. Whoever the fuck he’s working with is making sure that he stays put. It’s almost as if they know what we have planned.” I run a hand down my face, running across the jagged scar above my eyebrow.

“It’s healing,” he tells me.

“Yep,” I grit out, still pissed that I was taken off guard and they managed to get a knife to my face.

“Has he spoken?” The man is unknown. He came at me hard and fast, intent on killing me.

Thankfully, I’ve learned a lot since I became the Silencer, including being able to take care of myself if the occasion ever arises, and it sure fucking did.

Thankfully, I came out of the ordeal with just a fucking scar.

"He hasn't said a word," Jer replies grimly. "Whoever sent him trained him well. He's resisting all our usual methods of persuasion."

My jaw clenches. "We need answers, Jer. If someone's protecting my father, if they know what we're planning..."

"I know," Jer says, his voice heavy. "We're running out of time and options."

“What if it’s not my father?” I say thickly. “We still have the Boston Elite Syndicate to think about. They went to ground when Henry Gallagher started sniffing around. It’s not crazy to think they could be behind this.”

Jer nods grimly. "You're right, we can't rule out the Syndicate's involvement. They've been eerily quiet since we warned Gallagher, which could mean they're regrouping or planning something big."

I pace the office, my mind racing. "We need to approach this from a different angle. If we can't get to my father directly, maybe we can smoke out whoever's protecting him."

"What did you have in mind?" Jer asks, leaning forward in his chair.

"We leak information," I say slowly, the plan forming as I speak. "Not the whole truth, but enough to make his protectors nervous. Make them think we know more than we do."

Jer considers this for a moment. "It's risky. If we're not careful, we could expose ourselves in the process."

"I know," I acknowledge. "But at this point, I think it's a risk we need to take. We're running out of options, and my father's threats are still hanging over our heads."

Jer nods slowly. "Alright. We'll do it. But we need to be smart about this. I'll have our tech team set up some untraceable channels to disseminate the information."

"Good. What about Clodagh?" I ask. "Have you checked on her like I asked?"

Jer nods, his expression softening slightly. "She's doing okay, all things considered. Still living with Tammy, still in therapy. The night at the party really fucked her up. Thankfully, Lisa was there to stop those fucking assholes from going any further."

I nod, glad that he did check up on her.

As for those fucking assholes, they’re dead.

They weren’t when Jer had two of his boys beat the shit out of them and let them leave.

I couldn’t let them be. There’s no chance in hell that I’d ever let them anywhere near her again.

If they did that to Clodagh, who else have they done it to?

Jer studies me for a moment. "You care about her," he observes. It's not a question.

I shrug uncomfortably. "I feel responsible for her. After what my father did..."

"It wasn't your fault," Jer reminds me.

"I know," I say. “What's our next move with my father?"

Jer leans back in his chair, his expression dark. "I think it's time we consider more... drastic measures. If we can't get him transferred, we might need to take him out where he is."

My brows shoot up. "That's risky, Jer. Very risky."

"I know," Jer agrees. "But we're running out of options. Your father's threats are becoming more frequent, more specific. We can't risk him exposing you, us, or The Agency."

I nod. He’s right, we’re running out of options. "Alright. I'll start looking into the logistics of it. I'll start looking into the prison's security protocols," I say. "Guard rotations, camera placements, that sort of thing. We'll need to find a window where we can get in and out undetected."

Jer nods approvingly. "Good. I'll reach out to some of my contacts and see if we can get any inside help. A corrupt guard or two could make this a lot easier."

As we start to hash out the details of this dangerous plan, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, frowning at the unknown number on the screen.

"Hello?" I answer cautiously.

"Emmanuel?" a gruff voice asks.

"Who's asking?"

"Someone who has information you might be interested in," the voice replies. "About your father... and the people protecting him."

I lock eyes with Jer. He’s got a furrow between his brows as he watches me.

"I'm listening," I say into the phone.

"Not over the phone," the voice says. "Meet me at the abandoned warehouse on Dock Street. One hour. Come alone."

The line goes dead before I can respond.

"Well?" Jer asks as I lower the phone.

I quickly tell him about the conversation.

"It could be a trap," he warns.

"I know," I agree. "But if there's even a chance this person has legitimate information..."

Jer sighs heavily. "You're right. We can't afford to ignore this. But you're not going in alone. I'll have a team on standby nearby."

I nod, grateful for the backup. "Alright. I’d better get moving if I'm going to make it in time."

As I stand to leave, Jer catches my arm. "Be careful, Emmanuel. Your father's made a lot of enemies over the years. We don't know who we're dealing with here."

I give him a grim smile. "I always am."

An hour later, I'm approaching the abandoned warehouse, every sense on high alert. The area is deserted, the only sound the distant hum of traffic.

I enter the warehouse cautiously, my hand on the gun concealed under my jacket. The interior is dark and musty, filled with shadows that could be hiding any number of threats.

"Hello?" I call out. "I'm here."

For a moment, there's only silence. Then, a figure steps out from behind a stack of old crates.

"Emmanuel," the man says. "You look just like your father."

I tense at the comparison. I’m nothing like that asshole. "You said you had information."

The man nods, stepping closer. As he does, I realize I recognize him. “Craig,” I say through clenched teeth. “It’s been a while.”

“Last time I saw you, Emmanuel, you were fifteen and close to your father. Now you hate him more than I do.”

I stare at Craig, my father's former drinking buddy and one-time friend, trying to keep my expression neutral. "A lot's changed since then. You said you had information about my father?"

Craig nods slowly, his eyes never leaving my face. "I do. But first, I need to know—how far are you willing to go to stop him?"

"As far as I need to," I reply without hesitation. "What do you know?"

Craig takes a deep breath. "Your father's been making moves, even from inside. He's got connections—powerful ones.”

I raise a brow. “Who?”

“The Boston Elite Syndicate."

My blood runs cold. Our suspicions were right. "How do you know this?"

"Because they approached me too," Craig says. "They wanted me to keep an eye on your father, on you, and on Timothy, and report back to them. In exchange, they offered protection, money, and a chance at early release."

I process this information quickly. "And did you take their offer?"

Craig shakes his head. "No. Your father... he's dangerous. More than they realize. I've seen what he's capable of. That's why I reached out to you. Not to mention, if Timothy found out that I took them up on their offer, he’d disown me."

Tim is his son. He’s also a member of the Devil Falcon’s MC. His president is Maverick’s other uncle, Butch. When they find out those bastards are looking into them too, they’re going to be pissed.

I fucking knew those asshole hadn’t backed off. They’ve just started to be more covert while trying to find intel on us.

I study him carefully, looking for any sign of deception. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because they’re going after my son," Craig says, his voice low. "I know what your father did to that little girl's family. And I know that the Boston Elite Syndicate are even worse than him."

The mention of Clodagh sends a jolt through me. "What else can you tell me about the Syndicate's involvement?"

Craig glances around nervously before continuing. "They're planning something big. I don't know all the details, but it involves your father. They're going to try to break him out."

"When?" I demand.

"Soon," Craig says. "Within the next week, from what I overheard. They've got people on the inside, guards who've been bought off."

My mind races with the implications. If the Syndicate gets my father out, all bets are off. He'll be free to make good on his threats, to come after me, after Clodagh...

"Thank you for this information," I say to Craig. "But why come to me? Why not go to the authorities?"

Craig lets out a bitter laugh. "The authorities? Half of them are in the Syndicate's pocket. No, you're the only one I trust to handle this. You're the only one who truly understands what your father is capable of."

I nod grimly. "Alright. Is there anything else you can tell me?"

Craig hesitates for a moment. "Just... be careful, Emmanuel. Your father, he's not the man you remember. He's worse. Much worse."

With that ominous warning, Craig melts back into the shadows of the warehouse, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

As I make my way back to my car, my mind is racing. I need to get this information to Jer immediately. The drive to Jer’s house takes me half the time due to my mind being preoccupied. My head is filled with so much information and confusion.

I burst into Jer's office, not bothering to knock. He looks up from his desk, alarm crossing his face at my expression.

"What happened?" he demands.

I quickly fill him in on my meeting with Craig and everything I learned about the Boston Elite Syndicate's plans. Jer's face grows grimmer with each passing moment.

"This changes everything," he says when I finish. "If they're planning to break your father out within the week, we need to move fast."

I nod in agreement. "What's our play?"

Jer is silent for a long moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "We need to get to your father before they do," he says finally. "We can't risk him getting out and falling into the Syndicate's hands."

"So we're sticking with the original plan?" I ask. "We’re taking him out in prison?"

Jer nods grimly. "It's our only option now. But we'll need to move quickly and carefully. If the Syndicate has people on the inside, we can't trust anyone in the prison system."

I run a hand through my hair, frustration and anxiety warring inside me. "How are we going to pull this off, Jer? We're talking about infiltrating a maximum-security prison and taking out a high-profile inmate, all without alerting the Syndicate or the corrupt guards."

"I know it seems impossible," Jer says, his voice steady, "but we've pulled off tougher jobs before. We'll need to call in some favors and use every resource at our disposal."

He's right, of course. We've faced seemingly insurmountable odds before and come out on top. But this... this feels different. Personal.

"Alright," I say, steeling myself. "What's our first move?"

Jer stands and moves to a locked cabinet in the corner of his office. He unlocks it and pulls out a thick file. "First, we need to go over every detail of the prison's layout, security protocols, and staff rotations. Then we'll start planning our infiltration."

As Jer spreads the documents across his desk, I feel a grim determination settle over me. This is it. In a matter of days, I'll be face to face with my father again. And this time, only one of us will walk away.

"One more thing," Jer says, his voice grave. "We need to consider what happens if we fail. If your father does get out..."

I meet his eyes, understanding the unspoken implication. "Clodagh," I say. "If he gets out, she'll be in danger."

Jer nods. "We might need to consider moving her, putting her under protection. Just in case."

The thought of Clodagh being dragged back into this nightmare makes my stomach churn. But Jer's right. We need to be prepared for every possibility.

"Okay," I say, my voice hard. "Let's find a way to get to my father and then we can sort the Boston Elite Syndicate out.”

Jer grins. “Yes. Once we’ve dealt with your father, we’ll deal with those fuckers.”

Fucking finally. Jacob’s reign of terror is coming to a close, and I can’t wait to be the one to end his bullshit.