Surviving Ice (Burying Water #4)(68)

Ivy’s uncle works away and listens, dropping a question here and there, as Royce spells out countless other horrific things he saw while working for Alliance, all the times that basic human rights were clearly violated by Mario and Ricky and other employees—not to protect American lives or interests, but for pure, sadistic enjoyment.

But what about Royce? Did he partake? Is he saying he was always just an innocent bystander?

Their conversation eventually shifts to menial things, and then nothing at all, and after four hours in the chair, Royce is passing over a wad of cash. “I’ll wanna come in next week to finish this piece up here,” he says, tapping the top of his shoulder. “Same time, same day?”

“Sounds good.”

Ivy’s uncle sits at his desk and stares at the door for a while, long after the guy has left. Processing everything Royce just admitted to, I’m sure. Clicking a key on the keyboard, he waits for his computer monitor to light up. Then he types something into Google. I can’t see what it is, but when a website comes up that I know like the back of my hand—with a black background and a picture of founder and CEO John Bentley on the left-hand side—I know that the wheels have begun to churn in Ned’s head.

He gets up to pull the metal screen across the entryway, locks the front door, and disappears down the hall, to the back where there is no surveillance.

And then the tape cuts out.

And I’m left staring at my reflection in the monitor.

Royce may have deserved to be punished for his part in all this, but he didn’t deserve a bullet to his head to shut him up.

And Ned . . . well, he was a f*cking fool to get involved, but he definitely didn’t deserve to be killed over this either.

But Bentley was telling the truth about one thing: If this confession—from a Medal of Honor recipient, no less—gets into the hands of the American public, Alliance is finished.

The bigger question is: Do Bentley and Alliance deserve that end? Is this just a case of a contractor or two going rogue? How often is shit like this happening over there? How many of these guys, with God complexes, are doing inexcusable things to innocent human beings?

I’m about to hand over the only evidence that might ever spark an investigation into those questions.

Dammit.

I shouldn’t have watched the tape. I can’t simply unsee that, unknow that.

And yet Bentley’s paying me to do a job.

I need to finish it.

The sun is just cresting over the horizon when Bentley meets me at the front door of his Napa villa. I wordlessly hand the tape to him and his shoulders sag with relief, while mine hum with tension.

“Where did you find it?”

“Her tattoo kit, which she brings everywhere. Her uncle taped it to the inside, under the foam.” So obvious.

He snorts, shaking his head. “And she had no idea?”

“None.”

He heaves a sigh. “As always, you’re the most proficient man I know at getting the job done.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you felt that way as of late.” I don’t hide the sarcasm.

He hangs his head and offers me a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry about that. It was a moment of panic, I suppose. I just finally squashed that civilian shooting issue, so having this to worry about was more than even I could handle.”

Because this will destroy everything you’ve worked hard to build.

“I’ll have the money wired to your offshore account in the next hour. You can go back to your Greek haven, and we can get back to regularly scheduled programming.” He turns to head back inside.

“What about Scalero?”

Bentley stops. “What about him?”

“Is he going to cause any more issues?”

Bentley turns slowly, his face expressionless, impossible to read. “What issues?”

“He made contact yesterday in a restroom.” I hold up his wallet as evidence. “Made some comments about her being a loose end that he needed to tie up.” I watch Bentley closely, looking for a sign that tells me he already knew about this.

He holds my gaze. “He had strict instructions not to go near you or the girl.”

“And yet he broke them.”

“I’ll deal with him.”

“Like you dealt with him before?” If Royce’s confessions to what he saw are true and Bentley knew about it, that means he brought me in here to help bury evidence that would put him and his company in the wrong, and rightfully so. Nothing about what I heard last night is what we stand for, why I do what I do. None of it is for the greater good of our country.

It’s for the greater good of Bentley’s pockets.

I’m struggling to believe that this could be true. That’s not the man I went to war with. That’s not the man whose life I fought to save.

That’s not the man I’ve trusted all these years, when I’ve trusted no one else.

“If he comes near Ivy again, I’ll assume it’s to hurt her.” I give him a knowing look. I shouldn’t have to spell out what’ll happen. I’ve never killed an American soldier before, but the more I learn about Mario Scalero and his partner in crime, the more I believe they need to be put down. And, for once, I don’t feel the need to be ordered to make that happen.

Bentley raises an eyebrow. “Ivy?”