Page 48 of Flint's Battle

Blake simply smiled.

Flint inhaled. “Wait. Before you entered WITSEC, your last name wasn’t Carmichael, was it? As in Navy Commander Jacob Carmichael’s daughter?”

Blake gazed up at Kian, something unspoken passing between them before she looked over — nodded.

Carter stepped forward. “I can’t believe we didn’t recognize the similarities in how you and your father fly. He was always throttle down…”

“With his hair on fire.” Quinn grinned. “You’re all he ever talked about, Lieutenant Commander. Did you really spend several years with their various TACLET units?”

Blake smiled and it wasn’t hard to see the officer insider her. “I always preferred to be where the action was.”

“I bet you did.”

Flint frowned as he focused on Porter. “So, how does all of this tie back to the Russo family? Because Blake wouldn’t still be standing here if you were worried about Henry Russo orchestrating this.”

Porter chuckled, leaning his ass against the wall. “I should have known this investigation would end up biting me in the ass. And no. This isn’t about Henry. Since his transfer to Leavenworth, his ability to effectively run the family business has been limited. Rumor has it, his two sons are manning the helm, now. Thomas out east and James hoping to break into the west. Unfortunately, the incident here in Hawai’i opened a Pandora’s Box of sorts. My colleagues in Miami believed that James was planning to use his father’s previous contacts on the Big Island to help set up a permanent staging facility for some new weapon and drug suppliers out of Indonesia and the Philippines. Regions that have been hard to tap into.”

Porter paused to glance at Milligan. “But from what I’ve gathered over the past couple months, these contacts have decided they want a more hands-on approach.”

Flint cocked his head to the side. “They want to be partners instead of the hired help.”

“Sure seems that way. And they’re using Russo’s own death squad to do it, if that tattoo is any indication. It belongs to the Huntsman gang, hence the web. And these assholes are as close to assassins as you can get without hiring an actual hitman. No job is too risky, and no target off limits. Russo used to unleashthem whenever he needed to eliminate a cop or a judge. They were the men who staged that assault in Puerto Rico.”

Bowie shifted over. “And you’re confident they’re now working for these contacts.”

“Until twenty minutes ago, I thought this had become a joint venture with James Russo taking lead.” Porter reached inside his jacket and removed a photo, handing it to Bowie. “That’s a surveillance photo of Thomas and James taken at the family estate in Miami this morning. So yeah, I’m pretty confident the Russos aren’t behind this. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were meeting to discuss how to address the insurrection before they’ve been completely locked out of the deal.”

Carter looked at the photo next then passed it on. “Any idea who these new contacts are?”

Porter glanced at Milligan then back. “That’s complicated.”

Emery frowned when the two men continued to give each other a side eye before cursing under her breath. The inklings of anger burning through the pain. “Well crap. You didn’t keep this development secret because of Blake’s past or because you didn’t want me to get involved. You think Russo’s connections are cops.”

CHAPTER 15

“You son of a bitch.”

Flint was out of his seat and toe-to-toe with Milligan a second later. Hands fisted at his side so he didn’t do something rash like grabbing the other man then pinning him against the wall. His buddies gathered around him a moment later. Not quite interfering but not backing down, either. More like they were deciding if punching Milligan would be worth the reprimand.

Milligan didn’t flinch. “Stand down, Lieutenant.”

“Stand down?” Flint got closer. “You looked me in the eye and told me you’d have Emery’s back, then relegated her safety to a bunch of uniforms you couldn’t guarantee were even clean! And all because you thought she might be dirty?”

He shoved his hand through his hair when her boss simply stared at him. “What’s the matter, Milligan. Did I mumble?”

“Get real, O’Connell.” Milligan glared at him. “I never thought Emery was dirty. If you’ve been listening, we already stated we didn’t know the cases were connected. As far as I was concerned, some gang banger had taken a pot shot at her. Hell, she spends so much time at Ohana’s, it could have been a college kid she’d kicked out of the bar. I followed protocol.”

“Bullshit. You’re way too savvy not to have put it all together because that factory incident had cartel written all over it. That’s why you asked if I’d be driving her home more often and why you didn’t balk at me and my team hanging around the hospital. You were hoping we’d crush whatever scheme those assholes set in motion without you having to show your hand.”

“I was hoping you’d keep her safe. It’s not like I could ask everyone involved in her security if they were on the take. But just my luck, when the shit did hit the fan, you didn’t leave anyone alive to question.”

Bowie snorted. “Those assholes tried to kill people we love. We reacted accordingly.”

Flint ignored Bowie’s slip, maintaining eye contact with Milligan. “If you’d confided in us, we could have altered our strategy — set a trap. As it was, we were a step behind because we thought the ward was secure. If Moana hadn’t been included and Emery wasn’t Black Ops tough, we would have been too late.”

Milligan stared at him for several moments before shaking his head. “I knew you were trouble, O’Connell, the moment I laid eyes on you. You Spec Op boys just can’t turn that shit off.” He sighed. “I’ll admit, the hospital situation was… unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate? She pulls out most of her stitches and loses half a liter of blood, but it’s unfortunate?”

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