Page 60 of Love Me Darkly
Williams scoffed. “Don’t tell me they’re on some white supremacy bullshit on top of everything else.”
Darcy winced. “’Fraid so. Lots of mentions in the forums about pure bloodlines and lineage. Garcia and Donovan wouldn’t even get past the preliminary phase. That leaves you out too, Williams. Even if you weren’t Black, you’re a woman. Women are vessels for the men of The Veil. Vessels for pleasure and carrying on bloodlines. Vessels for sacrifice. It’s a real boys club, so that leaves me out too.”
Mateo’s eyes slid closed, and he hung his head as he realized that only left them with one option. His stomach twisted, and unease began to settle there, expanding with every breath he took.
Jones didn’t help matters by confidently uttering, “I’ll do it.”
Mateo shook his head, unwilling to even consider it. “No … fuck no.”
He pushed away from the table and paced toward the door. The walls had started closing in on him again, and he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see past the sunlight calling to him beyond the glass doors, couldn’t hear past the ping of bullets and the cries of dying men. All he could see were bodies and contorted faces, so many of them young, younger than Jones, barely sporting hair on their chins and jaws.
No, it couldn’t be Jones. The junior agent was wet behind the ears and more than a little naïve. He still had so much to learn before it could even be considered.
Mateo sucked in a mouthful of clean air once he was outside and his shoulders sagged. He shook his head to clear it and thought over his other options. There had to be another agent they could bring in, maybe someone Donovan could recommend. Someone who fit the profile of an ideal recruit who also had the necessary experience.
“Boss.”
Mateo glanced up to find Jones standing at his side, hands in his pockets. The kid was almost rail-thin, even though Mateo knew he was stronger than he looked. There was still a boyishness about his face that might never go away, even with age. He was simply one of those people who retained youth in their features.
“It’s out of the question,” Mateo snapped, looking away. “Don’t mention it again.”
Jones sighed. “I fit the necessary profile better than anyone else you could find. White, young, unattached. Wouldn’t take much to dress up a cover for me, and a lot of it can consist of the truth. I’m a foster kid with no parents or siblings. No wife, no kids. Just me. They won’t suspect a thing.”
Mateo ground his teeth. “You’re not trained for deep cover. You’ve been riding wiretaps, not playing double agent.”
Earnestness settled across his youthful features. “I can do it. Put me on a short leash if you want. Limited objectives. I’ll follow your every order without question. No heroics or improvising. But I’ve felt mostly useless this entire case, and this is my chance to do something. The rest of you have had your chances. You’ve had long, exciting careers. Don’t take this away from me.”
Mateo swiveled on Jones and took him by the collar of his jacket. “First of all, you are a valuable member of this team and have proven that throughout the duration of this case. Second, do you know what happens if you get made? If they suspect that even a sliver of your story isn’t true, or if they just decide they don’t trust you, even if they don’t understand why? Do you have any idea what they would do to you?”
Jones didn’t break his gaze or try to move out of his hold. He stared solemnly at Mateo and nodded slowly. “I know more than you think. But I trust you and the team to have my back, and more importantly, I trust myself. I’m ready.”
Mateo released his jacket and braced his hand on Jones’s shoulder. “You’re just a fucking kid.”
Jones laughed. “I’m a kid with tactical training and the ability to blend into his surroundings. And you’ve been training me these last two years on interrogation resistance. I know my tells. I know how to fly under the radar. What, are you saying you don’t trust your own training? The great Garcia, a bad teacher?”
Instead of growing annoyed, Mateo laughed and shook his head. “I forgot I also taught you how to negotiate. I can’t really argue with any of that.”
Jones grinned like a kid who’d just been handed a new puppy. “Then you’ll let me do it?”
Mateo held up a finger. “Only if we get what we need from the Solstice wiretap and clearance from Carlisle. And only once me and Smith have prepped you and decided that you’re ready. Got it?”
Mateo’s parameters did nothing to dim Jones’s excitement. He practically bounced on his feet, hands spasmodically clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“You won’t regret this, Boss. I swear.”
Mateo steered him back toward the entrance, feeling settled again. There was still a niggle of conscious telling him this was a terrible idea. Putting anyone undercover would be a great risk, but with Jones, the danger was doubled. His youth and inexperience could either prove to be an asset or a drawback, depending on the situations he ended up in. With Smith’s help, Mateo would do everything within his power to ensure Jones was prepared for any eventuality. Outside of that, he could only trust in the boy’s education and training to see him through.
They returned to the conference room to concerned looks from the others, but Mateo offered a reassuring half-smile.
“Jones is going in if we can make it happen. But first there’s the problem of finding a way in. Jones has no ties to Vestra and none to the dark web forums. How can we gain their notice?”
Darcy gestured toward the laptop that was now sitting open in front of her. “Caleb Morgan is your way in. Bring him in for questioning and make him crack. If Smith’s guess is right, he should know enough about the inner workings of The Veil to find us a way.”
“It wasn’t a guess,” Smith grumbled. “Guy’s a recruiter. You’ll see.”
Mateo turned to Williams. “Get on the phone with Carlisle and tell her we need to push through a material witness warrant. We have enough evidence to prove he’s a direct associate of individuals under federal investigation. He’s also been seen at both Solstice and the mansion, where confirmed trafficking and cult activity have taken place. Should be more than enough.” He then swiveled to Donovan. “The second that warrant comes through, bring him in.”
Melody trudged up the stairs to her apartment, her feet heavy and her head pounding. Her shift had been adjusted for the day, requiring her to report for work earlier than usual. Fortunately, that also meant she had gotten off earlier than she typically did, though it hardly mattered. Devin, the manager of Solstice and one of Roman Korenic’s flunkies, had worked himself into a state over the upcoming Glow Night. The boss had certain expectations and never tolerated slip-ups or inconveniences. He wanted a European style rave, the kind he’d grown accustomed to in his home country—wherever that was. He would expect the best and latest Dance/Electronic music, clever designer cocktails, and the prettiest women in the city, wall to wall. Between helping taste test cocktails and organizing glow stick and body paint stations around the club, Melody was also responsible for helping to decorate and plan coordinating attire with the other waitresses. It was eight o’clock and she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. She smiled while fitting her key in the lock of the front door, remembering Mateo’s text message from earlier.
