“How is my old ‘buddy’?” Sin said staring out at the water.
“Confused. He―the bureau―is trying to piece it all together, but without the hard drives and video footage, all they have is one big mess. He’s worried about you,” Charlie said. “He’s asking if there is any evidence connecting the dead agents to any of this.”
“Did you tell him we found evidence on the computers mentioning Miller’s involvement?”
“No, I didn’t. I thought it should come from you.” Charlie gripped Sin’s hand in a fatherly embrace. “You can’t avoid him forever.”
Sin’s eyes narrowed and her expression darkened. “I can and will until we figure out who El Presidente and Marilyn are. Until then I don’t want him to know anything.” Her words came out in a staccato rhythm. “I don’t want him to know if I’m alive or dead until this mission is complete.”
Charlie nodded. “That brings us back to point one. How do you propose we take care of the guests without the bureau’s involvement? We need to strike while they are still secure that their identities haven’t been compromised―before they scatter.”
“I’ve thought about that,” Sin said. “I spoke to my unit and they are willing to get involved. Are you tracking the movement of the perverts?”
Charlie nodded. “I have some old buddies on their trails.”
“With my unit’s help, we can strike them all in a short time frame.”
“I realize they have an allegiance to you, but I also realize that they are mercenaries. How do you plan on paying them?”
“They’re patriots first, mercenaries second. When they saw the shit that was happening at the church, they jumped at my request. Besides, I had already offered them another form of payment.”
“Which is?”
“None of the guests will be taken into custody. We know at least two of the people you identified in this ring are federal judges, with their connections being so high up in the government, the only way to make sure we end this is to take them out.”
Charlie took in a deep breath and sighed. “You realize what this means?”
“Yeah,” Sin closed her eyes, a tired smile painted her face, “I will be public enemy number one again with the Bureau.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Sin shrugged. “It’s who I am.”
Charlie stood and turned to walk up the beach. “We have a lot to do. I don’t want to lose the upper hand.”
“Charlie,” he turned to look at Sin. “I will arrange everything with my men, but I need to stay here with my father. I hope you understand?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Sinclair.” He reached back with an extended hand. She clasped her fingers in his and rested her head on his shoulder as they walked back towards the Johnson place.
48
Six days later, ten of the eleven had been eliminated. The members of Sin’s unit were in the far corners of the country and two were in Germany and the Ukraine. All but one had taken care of their assignment. The final assignment was in motion.
Sin spoke into a headset as she paced the library in Charlie’s lair. “I want an ‘all clear’ confirmation from you, Garcia, as soon as you have a visual.” She turned from the monitors when she heard someone enter the room. She pointed to the open door. “Get out.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Troy answered. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you are up to something.” He glanced around the room. “Where’s Charlie?”
“He’s with my father. I didn’t want him here either. Now leave.” Her ear piece buzzed.
“I have an all clear, Sin, what are your orders?”
Sin viewed the monitor. Her operative was miced and wearing a video feed.
“Where the hell is Garcia?” Troy said.
Sin stifled him with a wave of her hand. Her focus never leaving the monitor. “Is the target isolated? I don’t want any collateral damage.”
“Isolated and very skittish. The news of his friends traveled fast.”
“On my mark, extinguish the target as soon as you have a clean shot. Make sure you have a clear path of egress before proceeding.” Sin counted down from three and gave the word.
Reverberation and amplitude of the rifle could be heard echoing through the speakers. “Mission over,” Sin said, removing her head gear. “Repeat, mission over. Retreat to designated location until you receive new orders.”
Sin slid the earphones off her head and with a slow and gentle touch, she laid them on Charlie’s desk.
With a slight tap of a button, the monitor went black.
Troy slouched in a chair and hung his head. “I can’t believe what I just saw.”
Sin walked straight passed him—eyes vacant and dead—looking straight at the floor. “You didn’t see anything―you were never here.”
Thomas passed away later that same day. Sin sat on his bed, his head on her lap, caressed by her hands as he gasped his death rattle.
Sin cried for the first time since her mother’s funeral.
She cried for her loss.
She cried for all the girls who lost their lives to sin and greed.
She cried―because she could.
49
Thomas Jefferson O’Malley was buried in a plot next to her mother.
When the service was over, Sin thanked everyone for their attendance and good wishes. She stood alone at the gravesite and watched as the workers lowered her father’s coffin into the ground. She looked from the grave to the ocean and then to her mother’s gravestone. “Take care of him, Mom,” she cried. “I’m glad you’re together again, and I promise to visit more often.”
With a final wipe of her eyes and a clearing of her throat, she turned and walked back toward her bike. Waiting for her were two men―dark suits, dark sunglasses, shiny wingtip shoes―Frank Graham and Folsom Westcott.
Sin lowered her shades to cover her bloodshot, puffy eyes. The more focused their images became, the more heated she became. “Get the fuck away from my bike before I
