Marcus nodded. It was time to tighten the screws on the bastard who, up until now, dominated the playing field.
“Gateway—Jake Meadows, one of our agents—could intercept the Padre’s financial assets, and disrupt his money flow. And we have contacts with the media. We can get the rumor mill started by running some unfavorable articles about him being corrupt. As for sending in an agent, did you discuss anyone in particular?”
“I can do it.” Henry Thomas, the secretary, raised his hand.
Marcus rubbed the heavy stubble on his chin. The kid didn’t look old enough to grow hair—anywhere.
“Put your hand down, kid. We’re not in school.” He rested his eyes on the quiet man.
“Excuse me, sir, but I can speak several languages fluently. I have worked with politicians and CEOs before. I’m a personal assistant, and I know better than anyone here what that entails.”
The boy had guts, but the Padre wasn’t an ordinary man. And he would bet his life that Henry had never worked for anyone like him.
“Henry, do you know anything about the Padre?”
“A little, sir.”
“It’s suggested that the Padre—that’s his nickname, but don’t mistake him for being a priest of any kind of religion you would want to be associated with—is a billionaire, a ruthless businessman who acts as if he is untouchable. The truth is, he is. He has influence in the US government and the security forces. There’s talk he will run for president. The evidence we have collected shows he is the head of the secret society called the Elusti, which has headquarters in New York, but offices around the globe. He owns stock in the media, shipping, banking, as well as real estate all over the world. No man should have the kind of power and money he has. What scares most people when they hear the whispers about the Padre are the behind-doors initiation he makes those closest to him undertake. He demands absolute loyalty. Candidates have been required to perform heinous acts that will haunt you for the rest of your damn life. You’re either fucking working with him or standing in his way, and if you are in his way, it’s not for long.”
“Drayton—that’s enough!”
“No, it isn’t. Henry’s a kid, with no experience of what terror is. To be tortured without hope of a rescue. Or needing to kill another person, because it’s the job. You’re wet behind the ears, son. You wouldn’t survive, so don’t fucking stick your hand up. Do you hear me?”
Marcus studied the calm man with his fresh boyish face, nondescript brown wavy hair, and pale-blue eyes that flashed at him.
“I’m not your son. I’m Steel’s PA, and there’s a lot more to the role than you imagine. Don’t judge a book by its cover, sir.”
A smirk flitted across his face. The kid had balls. Marcus sighed. The weight of success or failure rested upon his shoulders. With Steel out of operation, the decisions fell to him. Rubbing his neck, he twisted around and faced a tense-looking Alexander. Another man he barely knew. The relationship he held with Steel afforded him some credibility, but in truth, he didn’t trust many people. Examining everyone inside the room, he knew they would all be on guard and unwilling to trust strangers—understandably—but they needed to band together to get the job done.
“Henry could be the perfect fit, Drayton. He’s an average-looking human and not an obvious threat. His employment history is impressive, to say the least. He graduated from MIT, and his previous employers are distinguished enough that he would be an ideal candidate if the position were to open up as a PA for the Padre, which currently it isn’t. But that is something we can manipulate, as well as create an opportunity for the Padre to meet Henry.”
Marcus considered the boy again. He met his stare full on, not flinching one bit.
“I have worked for Edward Billings and Sally Hemmingsworth, both prominent CEOs for multi-billion dollar companies. I can handle anything the Padre would want from a personal assistant.”
Marcus wiped his mouth, picked up the orange from the bowl on the table, peeled off the skin, and slid a piece of the juicy fruit into his mouth. The kid couldn’t possibly know what he was signing up for. He was too eager. And in truth, once this operation started, Henry would be on his own.
“I could arrange for an introduction to take place. That would be easy. The Padre’s whereabouts is always under our surveillance. We can create a situation that puts the Padre at risk, only for the kid here to play hero. My team can ensure that the security that surrounds him is distracted so that would be an achievable scenario. But I’m not convinced you realize the risks, Henry.”
The young man stood and sauntered over to his side.
Marcus tilted his head to study him, and wondered how old he was. As Steel’s second-in-command, he interviewed team members during recruitment, but not Henry. Steel recruited him personally. Henry pulled out a slip of paper from inside his jacket pocket and threw it in front of him. Marcus picked it up and examined the black-and-white photograph of a man’s unmistakably burnt remains.
“His name was Simon Thomas. My fraternal twin.”
A hardness surfaced on the man’s face, one Marcus recognized, one that spoke of deep pain and loss. And from the looks of it, Henry would do anything to get his revenge.
“My brother worked for the Padre, but he queried the integrity of the company. Simon sent me a file, and insisted that I investigate Soltaire but covertly. A couple of weeks went by, and I received a text. He said he was being followed and was fearful
