“No,” I agree.
Logan blows out a breath. “I’m sorry, mate.”
“I’ll never work for those fuckers again. I thought they were doing it to help our guys over there. Off the books support. But it wasn’t. It was for money. Sure, we may have stopped a terrorist or two, but they were there to grab the account numbers and cash out. They didn’t care about collateral damage. I confronted the guy who brought me onto the team, and he said it wasnecessary. We were doing the work that the boys in uniform couldn’t. But that’s not our work. It never was.”
“Don’t let some merc motherfucker twist what they’re doing with our service. Not for self but for country, Max. Always.”
“Non sibi sed patriae,” I say back to him, the Navy’s unofficial motto. Mac drilled it into us. “I gave them the programs I used to buy my way out, but it’s not enough. I’m sure by now the warlords who bought WEDGE have their own guys working on patches. My original programs won’t work anymore. The blackhats want me back. I don’t trust these guys not to go after people close to me if they get desperate, Lo. Manny’s got me chipped. I think you and Emmy should be chipped, too.”
Logan nods. “I’ve been thinking about wiring Emmy for audio. What happened with Miranda, and with a snotty little fucker at my club, is never going to happen again. She’s never going to be in another situation where I don’t know what’s happening to her.”
“I can help with that. I’ve got ... someone who can monitor her.” Poor Squid. He’s going to get an earful. “I’m already wearing panic buttons.” I thumb the one in my ear and Logan lifts an eyebrow. I don’t think he realized what it was. “The chip monitors my heartrate and sends a signal if it goes too low or too high.”
“Yeah, I like that.” I thought he would. “I’ll set it up with Manny. Is he monitoring yours?”
I nod. “Plus the guy I’d ask to monitor Emmy. He lives in Asia so he’s awake when we’re asleep. Works out well in terms of coverage.”
“Good. I’d want twenty-four-hour coverage. Bad guys don’t care what time it is.” Logan rubs the back of his neck. “If they take you, is it time to call the cops, or is it time to call De Leon?”
“Hell, Lo, tell me you’re not still in touch with that psycho?”
We crossed paths with Myles De Leon in the Gulf. Former SAS. Current nutjob with a sniper rifle. Logan bonded with him over British football, but the guy always looked like he was one bad day away from genocide to me and I steered clear.
“I am,” Logan says. “He’s Stateside now. Living off the grid. He popped in to watch the World Cup qualifiers last summer. He gave me a way to contact him and told me if I ever needed help with something I couldn’t handle through the ordinary channels to reach out. He has a private plane. Can be anywhere in a few hours.”
“It’s, uh, good to know you have a resource like that, but fuck no, if the bad guys snatch me, call the fucking cops.”
Logan chuckles. “Got it. I’d rather go through official channels anyway.”
“You need to protect your damn license.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure most of my clients would care, but it makes things easier when I need to get the cops involved.”
“Speaking of which,” I say in probably the least smooth segue I’ve ever attempted. “How about we stick to jobs that don’t involve the cops for a while?”
Logan runs his fingers along the still-ruddy scar running up his forehead into his hairline. “I’m all for that.”
“Manny’s got a couple of bodyguard jobs on the go, but other than that, I thought I’d hunt around for some straight physical security jobs. You’re good with strip clubs, right?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Good. I’ll line some up. Keep the money coming in while you heal and things calm down for me.”
Logan rubs his scar again before letting his hands drop to his side. “In the interests of full disclosure ... Manny already knows about this, so you should, too. The medical bills from my hospital stay in San Diego are big. My insurance company isstill fighting it out with the cruise company’s insurer but in the meanwhile, there’s a debt collector on my back?—”
“How much?” I ask.
“Forty-eight thousand.”
“I’ll cover it,” I say immediately.
“No. Thank you, Maxie, but no. Emily has some property in Scotland we’re selling. If it goes through, it’s more than enough. I don’t know how I’ll ever make it up to her but that’s a problem for another day.”
I shake my head. “I’ll cover it. You pay me back when Emily’s house sells. I mean it, Lo. You’ve got enough going on that you don’t need to worry about a debt collector breathing down your neck. If they do something asinine like start bankruptcy proceedings, it’ll fuck with your license and that fucks with all of us. I have more than enough. Look at it as my buy-in to the company.”
“Max—”
“Don’t argue with me,” I say firmly. “You’ve been there for me every minute since I finished basic. I’d never have made it through that first year in the service without you and Man. You’ve never let me do a single thing for you. I couldn’t even get back in time for your parents’ funeral. I’m doing this for you. Don’t fight me on it.”
