Whistleblower (PALADIN Book 1)
Whistleblower: Chapter 31

I replace total darkness comforting. I can enjoy the silence without closing my eyes.

I took the liberty of dragging a chair into this shipping container because God knows how long it’ll take before these fuckers show up to collect the contents of this oversized, dry cargo container. They are unaware that it was already unloaded a few hours ago.

I was warned there would be a handful of men coming.

Good, I’m especially angry right now. I don’t mind unloading a few bullets.

It took six months of intel to intercept this illegal shipment. The authorities were expecting the criminal ammunition. The guns, the grenades, the missiles—not remotely surprising.

The women, however, were very unexpected. Chained together like dogs, they didn’t even look scared when we opened the damn door. They were past fear, well into the realm of defeat. They hung their heads, accepting their dreary fate, probably wishing for death over the harrowing sentence awaiting them when they arrived.

Some of them got their wish. Apparently the ship was unexpectedly delayed off the coast. Of course, the ship captain wouldn’t know to relieve the prisoners he had no idea he was transporting. The women had just enough food, water, and waste buckets for a four-day journey… The trip took more than eight.

This is why Vesper asked me to handle it. Anyone could’ve easily ambushed these assholes and put a few body bags in the ocean, but Vesper knew what this scene would do to me. She wanted a vengeance-fueled bloodbath as payment for what these poor women were put through…

And I’m here to deliver.

The women who survived were quickly tended to by trauma teams. I watched as they barely nodded or shook their heads in responses to questions that they probably didn’t understand. They don’t speak English, and even if they did, who the hell would be in the mood to be questioned after that ordeal? It took everything in me not to interfere with the authorities, tell them to shut the hell up, and get these women to safety. Let them wash themselves, drink some water, eat, sleep in a safe place—then ask the fucking questions in the morning.

The container was emptied at record speed, then lightly bleached to help with the smell. Afterward, I took my place inside, to wait…

And wait.

I used to enjoy the calm before the storm. My job is very calculated, and it’s far more planning than action. There are long periods of calm, followed by short bursts of excitement. I can imagine what Eden assumes about the side of my life I try to hide from her. It’s not nearly as eventful as she probably thinks it is. Most of my time is spent waiting and wasting time. I never used to mind…but those were the days before I had something I was eager to return home to.

I was reluctant to leave Eden behind, unable to tell her where I was going and when I’d be back. I’m not even sure if she’s aware I left the state. But she’s incredible that way. She didn’t ask for details or whine that she’d miss me, and she didn’t beg me to stay. She kissed me goodbye and told me to be safe. While she doesn’t approve of what I do, she certainly seems forgiving.

Forgiving is good. With forgiveness, is hope.

I hear the low murmur of voices approaching, so I rise, abandoning my chair and positioning myself in the corner, away from the light. I don’t have a visual as the loading door opens, but I count the footsteps.

“Ey, yo—it’s empty. Is this the right one?” the first voice asks.

“Fucking ‘course it is. The key worked right?”

Another voice. Another pair of footsteps trailing behind.

“This ain’t good. Why is it fucking empty?” the first voice asks again.

“There’s supposed to be three girls going to one house and five going to the other. All I see is a chair.” There’s one more new voice as they all stomp like idiots into the dark container, still completely unaware of my presence in the back corner. This is the difference between thugs and professionals. Never walk into a dark enclosure, especially when what you were supposed to replace, is missing. To anyone with some fucking sense, this is obviously a trap.

Hand on my pistol, I almost make my move, but something in my gut tells me to wait.

Just wait.

“Who goes to who?” There it is—a final new voice, the last set of footsteps. I can leave no witnesses behind tonight.

“Doesn’t matter, a bitch is a bitch. But it’s no good if we can’t replace them.”

I’ve heard enough. I inhale and hold my breath.

It’s so quick.

One step forward, three pulls on the trigger, and then, by the time I exhale, the tip of my gun is pressed against the head of the only man left standing. The rest of my guests are lying motionless on the ground, beginning to bathe in their blood.

I pull down on the dangling metal chain above my head, turning on an overhead light so he can see the hot fury in my eyes. His eyes fill with fear in response as he assesses the scene of his associates dead on the ground. He’s a burly piece of shit, that’s for sure. His size alone would’ve terrified those women…but not me. All that extra weight just means he’ll hit the ground harder when my bullet wedges between his eyes.

“Wait,” he pleads. I recognize him as the one who delicately explained that a bitch is a bitch. “Stop, please. I have information.”

Ah fuck. Those are the magic words. “Then speak quickly,” I snarl.

“D-don’t kill me,” he stammers. “I’ll…I’ll tell you if you don’t kill me.”

“Tell me what?” I ask as I press my gun harder against his forehead.

“There are more… More containers are coming.” He sucks his breath in short gasps. “More guns. More women.”

“Sit down.” I nod toward the chair. “Now.”

He must be eager to live, because he’s very obedient. He whimpers when he slips in a puddle of blood that’s pooling from his friends. For someone who treats other people’s lives so carelessly, he certainly seems horrified to see one taken away.

“Sit still,” I hiss. With him shifting uncomfortably in the small chair, I’m convinced the metal legs are going to snap under his weight. “Are you armed?” I ask, more for curiosity than anything. He nods and holds his hands up in surrender.

“Left pocket. Just take it.”

I snort. “Keep it for all I care. But I warn you, you’re outmatched in speed and skill. You’d be dead before finishing the thought of pulling a gun on me.”

“Who are you?”

“Someone curious about your information,” I respond flatly, narrowing my eyes. “Now talk, before I lose interest.”

PALADIN’s compound is quiet today. I checked Vesper’s office but it was empty. Odd. She told me to meet her here after I messaged her that business at the dock was handled and I was on my way home.

Just for good measure, I peek into Eden’s office. The door is open like it usually is, but it’s empty. It’s been four days since I’ve seen her, and I have to wait one more. Today is her birthday, and she gave me strict instructions to leave her alone.

I resolve to head home, take a shower, get some rest, and deal with Vesper later until I hear a ruckus coming from the medical wing. I rush down the hallway and barrel through the door of the exam room.

Vesper’s standing in the corner, her arms folded with a scowl on her face. Cricket sits on the exam table, one leg bent and tucked into her chest as the doctor fusses over her bleeding arm. She’s sporting quite the shiner but she flashes me a big smile.

“Well, hey sunshine,” she says.

“Damn Cricket,” I tease. “Losing your touch?”

She barely flinches as the doctor douses her open wound with some type of antiseptic.

Scoffing, she flips me off.

“Will you stay still?” The doctor scolds Cricket. I give her a once over, somewhat curious about the woman that Eden was jealous of. Not even a comparison, Precious.

“What happened?” I’m not concerned… It’s Cricket. She might be tougher than I am.

“I rushed a job. I did not see the arsehole with the machete behind me. It’s just a scratch,” she says, shrugging off the deep gash in her arm. “Mom made me go to the nurse’s office.” She shoots a dirty look Vesper’s way.

“How’s the other guy look?” I ask.

Cricket beams, her smile spreading ear to ear. “He looks like a corpse.”

“Atta girl.”

“Hey, where’s Eden by the way? She didn’t show up for work today. We all figured you were out somewhere screwing.”

I texted Eden when I got back into town, but the message remains undelivered. She warned me she turns her phone off on her birthday which is the only reason I didn’t immediately go banging on her door, demanding proof of life.

“It’s her birthday, today. She likes to spend it by herself. I’ll see her tomorrow.”

“What?” Cricket asks, screwing up her face and jutting her palm to the ceiling. “No, Linc. No woman wants to spend her birthday alone. Are you stupid?”

“Stay still,” the doctor scolds Cricket again who grumbles in irritation.

I nod to the door, silently requesting a word with Vesper. She follows me into the hallway and I pull a key out of my pocket before dropping it in her palm.

“Tell port authority there’s a clean-up in container 41B-2A.”

Vesper looks worn. Her normally bright red lips look faded and her low ponytail is loose—the exhausting aftermath of babysitting her wild child for the evening. “How many dead bodies?”

“Depends.”

“What?” She furrows her brows in confusion.

“Three and a prisoner if they go tonight. If they wait a few days…four.”

“You let one go?” Vesper’s eyes grow wide with anger. “You had direct instructions to clear the scene, Linc.”

Rubbing my jawline, I feel the stubble softening. It’s been two days too many since I’ve shaved. “He had information about more shipments.”

Vesper shakes her head, crossing her arms again. “What information? The FBI has been hunting the source for years. It took a tremendous amount of luck to intercept that shipment.”

“What do you want me to say, Vesper?” My tone is hushed, not wanting to accidentally pique Cricket’s curiosity. Like Vesper, she has ears like a bat. “I have coordinates that lead to a little village in the Sahel. The only thing left for you to decide is what you want to do about it.”

She matches my steady gaze. “What do you want to do about it?”

Picturing the tormented women in chains, my answer is easy. “I want the head of the snake.”

“It’s the Sahel. The threat out there is like a Hydra. Cut off one head, there’s a million more, Linc. Anyway, Africa is outside the FBI’s jurisdiction. Callen won’t agree to that.”

“Fuck Callen. Fuck the FBI.” I feel my adrenaline rise. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, Linc. “You’ve lost your way. PALADIN’s jurisdiction is wherever there’s bad people doing evil things. Or have you forgotten that, buried behind all your paperwork?”

Vesper’s pointer finger lands an inch from my face. Her eyes grow cold and menacing. “Don’t question me. You don’t understand the burden I bear because I intend it that way. You aren’t responsible for any of the bodies you’ve put in the ground, I am. I sic the dogs, not you. Until you’re willing to wear the crown and accept that you’re the cause of thousands of sons and daughters rotting six feet under, don’t you dare fucking question my choices. The FBI and I—”

“You left the FBI, Vesper. Isn’t that how PALADIN was established? Then, for what?” I growl, matching her combativeness.

“Not because they were bad, because they were ineffective!” She buries her head in her hands as soon as the words leave her lips and she hears the irony clear as day.

Pulling her hands from her face, I stare into her dark eyes. “If you were struggling, you should’ve come to me. You didn’t have to run back to the badge.”

She lets out a low hum and I can almost hear the guilt in her response. “You were only sixteen, Linc. Maybe if I’d left you alone, you would’ve ended up with a normal life. That’s what I want for you—to replace something that grounds you, so you don’t end up floating away, like me. It’s very lonely. There’s nothing up here except—”

“Monsters and ghosts,” I finish for her. The first time I heard Vesper’s metaphor about how she chased monsters and ghosts, it sounded so badass to a sixteen-year-old kid. Now, it just sounds tragic.

We stand in the hallway for a while, hearing nothing but Cricket’s occasional protests through the door as the doctor argues back in a low murmur.

Vesper’s the one to break the silence. “I’ll give Callen my strong recommendation for a visit to the Sahel. But we need more intel.”

“Well then, check container 41B-2A. There’s a canary in there that’ll sing for you.”

Vesper exhales in exasperation. “I have enough to deal with between Cricket and Lance’s theatrics. Please don’t become a problem child for me. Keep your jobs clean from now on.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I salute her mockingly before turning down the hallway, already salivating over the idea of a hot shower and a decent meal.

“Oh, and Linc,” Vesper calls after me.

I throw my head back and grumble before turning around. “What?”

“Cricket’s right.”

“About?”

“Eden’s birthday. No woman wants to spend it alone.”

“But she told me—”

“I know what she told you,” Vesper says, her tone condescending like she’s talking to a toddler. “But I’m telling you to at least pick up a card, some flowers, and go wish her a happy birthday in person. Believe me, I’m a woman… You’ll have hell to pay if you don’t.”

I rub the back of my neck trying to soothe the ache. “Aren’t I supposed to respect her privacy? Why would she say she wants to be alone if she didn’t mean it?”

“Hm… Why would a woman say what she doesn’t mean? That’s a question for whatever god you pray to, right after ‘Why did the dinosaurs die?’ and ‘Do you actually exist?’”

I snort at her sarcasm, then ask in all seriousness, “Is that your way of giving me your blessing?”

Vesper purses her lips and slowly bobs her head. “I can’t say I want you grounded and then rip you away from the only person that’s ever made you smile like that. Just remember, if she’s next to you, the target on her back will always be bigger than the one on yours.”

I nod in understanding. “Bye, Vesper,” I say before I turn back around and head down the hall, mentally debating where the hell I’m supposed to buy birthday cards and flowers.