Page 21 of The Team (The Milvus Files #3)

Chen was hissing something angrily to Yin. His eyes narrowed, his finger pointed... until he saw Rhett. Then he stopped. But he never faked a smile or even tried to pretend he wasn’t mad.

Rhett had only ever seen the big guy smile, so seeing him pissed off was new.

Yin, on the other hand, was stoic. His face gave nothing away except sadness.

It was all so fucking weird.

Rhett would get to the bottom of it though. One way or another.

He found Director King sitting at the back in the only seat with a large fold-down tray that served as a desk. He had his laptop out. “Ouston,” he said. “Shouldn’t you be trying to sleep?”

Rhett almost laughed. “I could say the same for you.” He looked at King’s laptop. “Any news on Kowalski and Myles?”

“Not yet. I’ll expect an update when we land in Bosnia.”

“I need to make contact with Yunho,” Rhett said. “Before we land. Off the record. Bypass HQ. I know all comms on these planes are registered and recorded, and this needs to be on the DL.”

King paused, his eyes intent, serious, but finally he nodded, understanding what Rhett was saying .

He didn’t trust anyone at HQ.

Not their handlers, not the council.

No one.

“Okay. Do you know something?”

“I might.”

“But you’re not prepared to say.”

“Not until I have proof.”

King scrutinised him for a tense moment, also understanding Rhett’s lack of trust extended to him. “And you want my phone?”

“It’s secure, is it not? And encrypted.”

“Yes.”

“And your laptop,” Rhett added. “You have more clearance than me.”

“They could technically trace it,” King said. “Hell, from what I know, they probably already are.”

Rhett assumed that much, but he trusted Yunho to be able to work his tech-magic. Rhett just needed a connection.

Rhett shrugged. “And for plausible deniability, I’m going to need you to go take a piss and stretch your legs for two minutes.”

King almost smirked. “Plausible deniability?”

“You went to take a piss, and when you came back, you found me sitting suspiciously at your desk but could not determine if your computer had been accessed.”

King’s lips twitched, and he gave a small nod before he took his cane and let out a groan.

“Yeah,” he said, wincing as he stood. “Damn leg. Shoulda had them cut the damn thing off.” He shuffled out from his seat, bearing his weight unevenly until he could get proper support from his cane, and it was clear that he was in pain.

“Might just stretch it a bit. Uh, remind me when I get back to clear the call history in my phone. I forgot to do it after I spoke to your friend.” He put his phone on the desk, unlocked.

Rhett gave a nod. “Sure thing.”

He watched him leave before turning the laptop around and taking King’s phone. He found his call log, seeing no other number but Yunho’s. He pressed Call.

Yunho answered on the second ring. His voice smooth and unsurprised. “Director King.”

“Captain Ouston,” Rhett corrected him.

“Oh,” Yunho said. Now he was surprised, and it amused Rhett a little that he could one-up him. “Is everything okay? You are an hour outside of Bosnia. Why are you calling from King’s number?” Then he answered his own question. “Because you don’t want certain people to know.”

“Affirmative. I have a phone and I need you to access it,” Rhett said quietly.

“It’s in Chinese. Jay said he couldn’t see much on it.

There are a few texts to a woman, maybe?

I’m not sure if there’s something else. There are no call logs, no anything, but maybe he wiped it. Maybe it’s a code, I don’t know.”

Yunho’s tapping at a keyboard paused. “Yin or Chen?”

“Yin.”

“I want you to know, I’ve found nothing else on him. His military record is exemplary. You said you trusted him, and I can see why.”

Rhett scrubbed a hand over his face. “He had a phone on him,” Rhett whispered. “Trust or not, that’s a huge fucking breach. But...”

“But what? ”

“His reaction,” Rhett murmured. “Something’s not right. I don’t know what it is.”

“You have the phone?”

“And King’s laptop. And not much time.”

“Plug the phone in for me,” Yunho said.

Rhett did that and he heard Yunho’s tapping at his keyboard. After a moment, he hummed. “Hmm. There isn’t anything... texts to a... a Jun-mei...”

More tapping.

“I’ll need some time to find out more on her, but the phone is a burner.

Otherwise empty. It also has an anti-interception function, a scrambling shield common to the Chinese military.

It might mean little to you, Captain, because no, he shouldn’t have had it on him.

But that phone is neither a beacon nor a weapon; it gives no signature at all.

He used it only to contact this one person who. ..”

He paused. More tapping.

“Who what?”

“Who has not answered or received his texts for over two days. His requests for contact with her seem... desperate.”

Fuck.

“I’ll know more by the time you land to refuel,” Yunho said. “And I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you.”

Rhett unplugged Yin’s phone, pocketed it, and turned the laptop around just as King walked back in.

“How’s the leg?” Rhett asked him.

King groaned as a response as he lowered himself into his chair. Rhett caught a glimpse of King’s leg when his trouser leg rose up. Mottled skin, disfigured, and reduced muscle mass, and he felt bad for making King suffer more than was necessary.

“I better get back to my seat,” Rhett said. He stood up and made his leave but stopped before he got too far. “Oh,” he said, nodding to King’s phone. “Don’t forget to wipe your call log.”

King smiled as Rhett turned and went back out to the seats, and amongst the silence were stoic faces and enough tension in the air to catch fire.

It was not good.

Rhett took his seat next to Jay. “What the hell happened in here?” he whispered.

“Words,” Jay replied, equally quiet. “Bisgaard had something to say to Yin. Giardello told him to shut it.”

Fuck.

Which means Giardello told Bisgaard what King had said. That Yunho was looking into Yin and Chen’s involvement. And Zihao. And how the hell they came to be in Milvus.

The last thing any of them needed was the two teams turning on each other.

Rhett could feel Sid watching him, waiting for shit to go south, waiting for Rhett to stand up, and Sid would be by his side in half a second.

Rhett heard Giardello hiss something, presumably at Bisgaard, and the tension amped up another notch. It was damn near combustible.

Jay spread his feet, as if ready to leap. His hands were fists on his thighs, his face downcast, but his eyes were on Rhett.

Ready. Waiting .

But then the intercom burst the bubble; the cockpit announced their descent, and the tension simmered a little.

When the plane landed, Rhett was first on his feet. “Alpha One with me,” he said.

Giardello seemed to agree because when they deplaned, he took his team to the other side of the bunker.

A bit of space would do them good.

But the rift in Rhett’s team was evident. Yin and Chen stood to one side, arms crossed, faces sullen, and the others... well, Echo was watching everything, Azrael was glowering in Bisgaard’s direction, and Sid was pacing.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Coyote asked, none too quietly.

“We don’t know,” Rhett answered. “I’m waiting on more information.”

“From HQ?” Sid asked. “I thought they?—”

“Not HQ.”

“Bisgaard said Yin had a phone,” Echo said, voice detached.

Fuck.

“I saw it,” Bisgaard said, breaking away from his team and stalking over. He aimed directly for Yin. “I fucking saw it.”

Rhett intercepted him and shoved Bisgaard away. “Back the fuck off,” Rhett snarled at him.

But then Jay was there, Sid and Coyote, and Azrael and Echo. Facing off against Bisgaard and all of Alpha Two.

“The fuck are you protecting him for?” Bisgaard snapped at Rhett. He was angry, livid, pointing his finger in Rhett’s face. “He’s a fucking traitor for all we know.”

Before Rhett could take his head off, Jay was between them. A foot shorter than Bisgaard, Jay was in his face. “ You watch your fucking tone when you speak to him,” Jay sneered at him.

Bisgaard snarled at Jay then, and in a split second, Rhett took the big ex-Jaeger by the neck of his shirt and drove him backward.

King tapped his cane on the concrete floor. “Enough!”

Rhett stopped but didn’t let go.

“I said that’s enough,” King repeated.

Rhett let go of Bisgaard with a shove, and Giardello was quick to pull him back.

“I am no traitor,” Yin said quietly.

Before anyone could say anything—and a few were about to begin—King put his hand up.

“No one said you were. We have bigger problems than whatever this bullshit is.” He gave Bisgaard a filthy look and Giardello one that wasn’t much better.

“Take your team to the other end of the bunker. Jesus Christ.” Then he held out his phone to Rhett. “Ouston,” he said. “Phone call.”

Rhett took the phone and walked a few metres away. “Hello.”

Yunho’s voice was as smooth as ever. “How is our favourite captain?”

“Been better,” he replied. “What do we know?”

“Yin’s phone yielded nothing. A search on the woman he was texting yielded nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I found nothing. Zero. Not one hit.”

“How is that possible?”

“Access to China is somewhat limited,” Yunho said. “But I can tell you it appears Tao lives with a woman, Yin Jun-mei.”

Yin ?

Rhett was careful not to say anything too loud. “Wife or sister? Mother?”

“There’s no record.”

“Of what?”

“Of her. By all accounts, she doesn’t exist.”

What the fuck?

“Has she replied at all?”

“No. All still unread.”

“Is she covert? Or better yet, is he? Is Yin?”

Yunho sighed. “I cannot yet confirm anything on her. And, from what I found on Yin, your instincts seem correct. He’s clean. Clean record, clean physical, clean psych. He was awarded medals, Captain. In a word, he is an exemplary soldier.”

Of course he was.

“Chen is much the same. Exemplary records.”

“Hm,” Rhett hummed. He never suspected Chen . . .