Destin's Hold (The Alliance #5)(63)

“Good for her,” Destin murmured, shoving his hands in his front pockets. “Is there anything else?”

Cutter’s lips twitched and he shook his head. “I really hope Kali is as much of a pain in the ass to Razor as you have been to me,” he muttered. “I’ve sent Trig out with Tim to find the Raftian and Jawtaw. Tim knows the city, but Trig knows the Raftian.”

“Sula isn’t involved in the disappearance of the women,” Destin asserted.

“I know,” Cutter acknowledged with a grim expression. “Thomas made another pot of coffee. General Baker has requested a meeting after this morning’s incident and I’ve asked Jag to join us.”

Destin nodded. Cutter gripped the door handle behind him and pulled the door open. Destin followed Cutter out of the room and back down the hallway. He was surprised when Cutter returned to the break room instead of leaving the building. Cutter must have sensed his surprise.

“We’re meeting in here?” Destin asked, stepping into the room.

Cutter nodded. “A family is very important to a Trivator. We can only hope to one day be gifted with our Amate. You have found yours. I respect your protectiveness of her,” he explained.

Destin knew he had a skeptical look on his face. It was strange listening to another guy, even if he was an alien, talk about gifts and protectiveness. It was obvious from Cutter’s face that he wanted to be done with this part of the conversation as well.

“And that’s that?” Destin asked.

Cutter shrugged. “Yes… and the fact Patch wouldn’t release her from his care yet. I want to ask her what she was searching for before the attack,” he added.

“Now that I can believe. I need some coffee,” Destin muttered.

“Make that two,” Mason replied, walking into the room rubbing his eyes. “I’m getting too old to keep up with this shit.”

“Old my ass, I’ve got three years on you,” Mary Clark stated, sweeping in behind Mason with Beth following after her grandmother with an apologetic smile.

“You weren’t up all fu—Ouch,” Mason muttered, rubbing his arm when Mary smacked him.

“You can use any word but the f-one,” Mary stated in a firm tone. “A good curse word is necessary at times to relieve the tension, but the f-bomb should never be spoken in front of a lady. I’ll take care of the coffee if y’all want to find a seat. None of you can make a pot worth drinking and I think you’ll need more than one before this is finished.”

Destin chuckled when he saw the pained expression on both Cutter’s and Mason’s faces. Mary was sweet, but kept the lot of them in line with an iron fist. She knew how to handle the less than polished men that had become a family to her and Beth over the last seven years. He was just grateful Mabel hadn’t come along with Mary. Then, they would all be in trouble.

“Sorry about this, Destin. I contacted Grandma this morning to let her know I was okay. She insisted on coming. I had Mason go get her. It was easier than fighting with her,” Beth muttered, sliding onto the chair next to him. “How’s Sula doing?”

“She’s doing better this morning – still in some pain,” Destin replied, smiling his thanks to Mary when she placed a cup of coffee in front of him.

Destin glanced up when a man in a uniform entered the room, followed by Jag, the commander of the Star Raider. The modest size room was becoming a little cozier as it began to fill up. Destin recognized the human male as General Baker.

“General,” Destin greeted with a nod. “Jag.”

“Destin,” Jag responded, glancing at the two women with a raised eyebrow.

“This is Beth and Mary Clark. They are part of my team. Mary handles communication and logistics for me,” Destin responded. “Beth works with my security team.”

“Cutter debriefed me on what happened last night. We are already on high alert due to these other possible threats,” General Baker stated. “The human military forces are mobilized and ready around the world. I’ve been in contact with the Joint Council in New York City. After receiving an unusual transmission that was verified as authentic, they agree that the threat is real.”

“I received the same transmission,” Jag added, stepping forward and placing a vidcom device in the center of the table. “Play transmission.”

A holographic image flickered for a moment before a man’s face appeared in front of it. The man smiled into the video recording before stepping back. He started to speak before he stopped and frowned. They could tell he was glaring at someone on the other side of the camera.

“How do you expect me to warn them if you do not have the sound working?” a thick, accented voice demanded. “IQ, you are supposed to know how to operate this machine, oui?”

“Jon Paul, you better hurry. Jarmen will not be happy if he discovers we are sending this,” another voice muttered. “He swore he would eject us into space if we mess up again.”

“How is this messing up? We are simply sending a small message,” Jon Paul argued.

“Technically, any interference with history could potentially change the course of it,” another voice replied.

“Bah! Jarmen has been messing with your programming again,” Jon Paul replied with a wave of his hand. “I will be careful.”