Chapter 15

Morale at the FBI is at an all time low. Leaders are under attack or fired, the integrity of the organization is being called into question, yet the rank and file mostly wants to just do the work of justice. Agent Wallace hides his own angst under that same cloud, but he sits with waking terror that one day, his career will be over and he’ll be put in prison for raping a young girl. The worst part about it is: he had. Oh sure, he’d undoubtedly been drugged. She was definitely being drugged too, but whether she was in on it or not...

No, he can’t think like that. He can’t waste any of his gray matter on the issue. He has to forget all of it. If he can forget it.

An email comes into his Clayben fake email address. He reads the title with dread, but it isn’t from Mr. Flaherty. It is an account he hasn’t seen before.

“HMU on whatsapp.” It lists a number he hasn’t seen.

The girl. It has to be the girl.

“Who is this?”

“u can take him down I have proof”

“Leave me alone. This bridge is burned.”

“plz I’m pregnant”

He stares at his phone. His heart thumps hard in his chest.

“Its his”

The letters popped on his phone and froze his fingers. She is well and truly fucked if she’s coming to him for help. Carefully, he types back words that hurt his soul.

“There’s nothing I can do.”

“yes u can”

The anger surging in him has no chance to rise. She cuts him off by saying words he hadn’t imagined.

“got into his computer”

“deleted his video of u”

“ur in the clr”

“How?”

“doesn’t matter”

“plz help my baby”

“dont txt back burner phone”

That was it. A chance for redemption. It was a way back into the good graces of the brass and suits above. This kind of collar made careers. The asset forfeitures alone would net the government millions if his estate was any indication. But more than that, the joy of getting a really slimy guy like Flaherty behind bars was too much of a draw.

It might be a trick. They might get there and find nothing and the girl might not even be pregnant. On the other hand, this was exactly the way guys like this screwed up. Arrogance leads to carelessness. He probably thinks no one can touch him.

Jackson decides that this might cost him everything, but he went into this profession for a reason: to see justice being done. If he can do it now, why not risk it? The right thing isn’t right because it’s rewarding. The right thing to do is right because it is righteous. Full stop. He looks over at the picture from graduation and at his mother beaming in pride. She only ever looked like that when it mattered. When he got his scholarship, when he graduated High School, when he graduated from college, and when he made it into the Bureau. She beamed because he was going to do right. It is time to earn her pride.

Returning to school was no longer a fight, and Ryan is glad for it. After all it’d be awkward for her to go to school in her delicate condition. She continues her tutoring, after all, a proper girl like her needs to have records with the state to show she was well taken care of. Her burgeoning belly meant that her tutor’s costs increased - a show of gratitude for his continued discreteness.

She smiles at him and waves from the table and Ryan counts himself completely lucky. Even without the drugs, she seems genuinely happy to be with him. Even in love with him. Poor girl probably convinced herself of it when she was doped up and couldn’t change now that she was knocked up. It’s amazing what these stupid cunts will convince themselves of, given an orgasm and a smattering of kindness. He smiles at his lovely little incubator and lets her continue her studies.

Abby hurries to him with panic in her eyes. “Sir, sir, sir, it’s the police, there are lots of cars here. Many black SUV’s.”

“What? No.” He frowns and strides out without a look back to his offspring’s carrier. “There’s no way.”

He sees from his office monitoring programs, that indeed she isn’t lying. Black unmarked SUV’s. “Stall them.” He barks out his order and kicks off a backup. It won’t take but a few seconds, then he can wipe the drives, but really wiping them will take time. Time is all he needs, but he should be able to hack it. Even without Rachel, how hard would it really be to jawbone out a couple of Quantico fresh-outs?

But before his upload finishes, the screens go black. It takes him a moment before he realizes that the power in the whole house has likely gone out. He waits a few seconds before the generators kick in. Screw the backup, he’ll just have to kick off a wipe as soon as it boots. Rachel will know what questions to ask to stall them. He calls her up while the computer reboots.

Then the back-up generators fail.

“Rachel, Rachel, they are here.”

“Who?”

“The Feds, the fucking Feds are here.”

“Don’t say a word, I’m coming. Just make sure they have a warrant that’s signed by a judge and when you see it, tell me who the judge was. Verify the scope of the search and don’t consent to anything that isn’t expressly written on the warrant.”

Her words are less than comforting. This isn’t supposed to be happening. That fucking Agent Wallace kid. He’s going down.

He half expects the Feds to have broken down his door but when he gets to the front, two agents are speaking calmly and professionally to Abby and Avery.

“You must be Mr. Flaherty. I’m Agent Cortez, I was just explaining the warrant we have to your other residents. Good of you to join us.” Just like the FBI, to send a woman agent to raid his home. Just one indignity after another.

“Yes. Well, let me see the warrant.” He makes a mental note of the name. “Abliscos” was the best he could make out of it. Rachel would know who it really was. “You know, I’m reading this and I don’t see where it says you’re allowed to destroy my property.”

She responded cool as iced razors. “Only incidental damage in line with these specific search targets and anything required to ensure the safety of my agents, Mr. Flaherty.”

“I don’t see how cutting my power or my back-up generator have anything to do with the safety of your people, Miss.”

“Agent, sir.” She corrects his patronizing slight.

He bristles at her PC feminist arrogant bullshit. “I don’t give a shit about your title, you destroyed my property and I am going to have this whole fucking thing thrown out. So whatever it is you think you’re going to find, good luck framing me with something that gets thrown out before I even get charged with anything.” His forehead throbs and he imagines wrapping his fingers around her neck. The thought is calming.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to watch your tone.” Cortez holds his stare long enough to let him know she isn’t playing, then sets about overseeing the search.

They take everything. The vitamins (which is worrisome), the computer (which is encrypted), and even his bed sheets (which are loaded with all kinds of DNA).

The lights come back on and a few minutes later, they take a young pregnant girl who smiles and goes along with them.

“Hey, hey, you can’t take her! Let her go.” He fumes but doesn’t do more than speak. She looks back at him with confusion in her eyes. “Don’t worry and don’t say anything. They are liars. I will send a squad of lawyers for you, just sit tight, okay honey?”

He turns back to Agent Cortez with malice. “You’ve messed up big time.”

She doesn’t respond, but he sees the smirk peek up on the corner of her mouth.

Another agent sidles up to him. “You know that is a pretty tough mess you seem to be in. Why don’t you come down to headquarters, maybe answer some questions ... maybe we can clear this all up?”

“Agent Goodcop, I presume? No thanks. I will stay right here.” His voice is cold.

The new agent shrugs with a sly grin. “Sounds to me like a guy with something to hide, isn’t that right, Cortez?”

“Sounds right to me.” She replies with easy rhythm.

He doesn’t say another word to the pair. Their stupid games are beneath him. They haven’t put him in cuffs yet and in the worst case, he can always leave the country. Not all of his private planes are under his name.

Nicole sits at the FBI offices feeling drained. She’s told them all that she can remember, but feels bad for all the things she fails to remember clearly. She is useless for faces of the people at the masquerade mansion. She gives them as many names as she can remember, but there were a lot of people. He is completely shocked when she tells him about her father. He’d escaped from custody in what seemed like a paperwork mix-up, but now everything is suspect. She can’t help them find him, all she can do is let them know the last time she saw him he was chained and covered in her juices. He looks at her differently after that admission.