Hell on Wheels (Black Knights Inc. #1)(88)
Frank watched, fascinated, as Aldus’s eyes darted around the room, searching for some way out of this mess.
Sorry, ol’ chap, but you’re completely f*cked.
“I have contacts,” Aldus gushed, all his fight suddenly vanished as he scrambled to find leverage, any leverage. “I’ll give you the names of those who helped me if you guarantee to take the death penalty off the block. I have documents to back up my claims. I’ll tell you who hacked into the Black Knights’ computer system to plant that false assignment to Syria.”
False assignment to Syria…
Frank suddenly felt the very real need to plant a nice fat piece of lead in the senator’s traitorous heart. Unfortunately, the Secret Service had scowlingly disarmed him before allowing him entry into 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Touchy sonsofbitches.
President Thompson steepled his fingers, seeming to consider with extreme care the senator’s generous offer. They’d been discussing just how to go about getting the names of the senator’s cohorts, now the man was offering them up without so much as a fight.
Spineless.
Frank fought the urge to spit on the floor in disgust, but that antique rug probably cost more than his entire life’s savings were worth.
“I don’t know, Senator Aldus,” President Thompson demurred. The man could certainly act, which probably served him very well in his position. “What do you think, Miss Morgan? Your life has been turned upside down by this man’s actions. Do you think we should offer him a deal?”
Ali, whose spine snapped ruler straight upon being personally addressed by the leader of the free world, knew the score. She’d been thoroughly educated by the president and the Joint Chiefs on the likely outcomes of the senator’s trial before the prodigious man’s arrival.
Life in prison was the steepest sentence the senator would receive. Thankfully, Aldus was the only person in the room who didn’t already realize that.
“Perhaps, Mr. President,” she said, and Frank watched Aldus almost wilt with gratitude. The guy actually seemed to deflate inside his designer suit. “If he answers some of my questions, honestly, I have no problem with you offering him a deal.”
President Thompson regally inclined his salt-and-pepper head.
Frank watched Ali’s slim throat work, and he feared she might just puke again—the damn woman had the gastric fortitude of a broken fire hydrant—but then she courageously turned her attention to Aldus.
“Did you have my brother tortured in order to obtain the whereabouts of those missing files?” she asked, her voice firm and true as a struck bell.
Frank would’ve slapped her on the back for having balls the size of Texas if he wasn’t so keenly interested in the senator’s answer.
“Yes,” Aldus looked ready to faint, his bloodshot eyes glued to Ali’s pretty face as if she was his anchor in a storm, his only salvation.
“Bullshit!” Ghost shouted and everyone, including Frank, jumped at the unexpected explosion. “They never questioned us about files. They never questioned us about anything!”
“I swear I’m telling the truth!” Senator Aldus actually put his hands together in front of him, pleading. “I’m not lying. I hired them to get the location of the files from Morgan, but they never did and then you escaped and Morgan was—”
“Looks like you didn’t get your money’s worth again, senator,” Fuller grumbled. “Guess that’s what happens when you try to negotiate with terrorists!”
“Pete,” President Thompson’s voice was remarkably cool. Frank had never in his life heard anyone use General Fuller’s first name. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d even realized the general had a first name. He guessed he’d always kind of assumed Fuller came straight from the womb replete with a buzz cut and sidearm. “Please, let Miss Morgan continue.”
“I don’t have anything more to ask, Mr. President,” Ali whispered, her big eyes bright with tears. “I just wanted to know for sure who was responsible for killing my brother.”
Oh, no.
Frank pushed away from the wall, but he was too late the stop the awful garbage spewing from the senator’s traitorous mouth.
“I didn’t kill you brother, Miss Morgan.” The damned man looked almost gleeful when he swung his beady eyes toward Ghost. He tipped his pointy little chin. “That would be the handy work of one Nathan Weller and his big, sharp knife.”
Ghost actually roared, lunging toward the senator.
“Get him out of my sight,” President Thompson shouted above the ruckus, and the Secret Service agents dragged a cursing, screaming Aldus from the room, but not before one of them handed General Fuller a cellular phone.
“Found it in his pocket,” the guy said and Fuller nodded.
Oh man, Frank didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t help himself. He swung his gaze in Ali’s direction and his stomach instantly curdled. She was furiously blinking back tears as she zeroed in on Ghost’s ravaged face. The poor guy was standing in the middle of the room with his eyes screwed shut, as if that could somehow make it all go away.
“Nate?” she whispered. “Is that true?”
When Ghost opened his black eyes, there was enough unspeakable anguish in them to have Frank’s own hardened heart threatening to explode into a thousand sympathetic pieces.