Page 372 of Lodestar

There wasa surprise waiting for us on the jet that would take us back to the US—my grandfather had perched himself on one of the bucket seats, a paper in his hands, one of several he had discarded on the table beside him.

“You have the subtlety of a jackhammer, Star, but in some instances, it’s to our benefit,” was his greeting. He didn’t even look up from the article he was reading.

“The nation is distracted,” I agreed.

“Which is why I said it’s to our benefit, but it won’t last forever. Three important men have gone missing within the space of a month,” he pointed out.

“Isn’t that what you’re for? To deal with any repercussions?”

He sniffed. “It’s fortunate for you that I have the power I do.”

Though I squinted at him, I only asked, “Is that supposed to be an olive branch?”

“I didn’t know we were in need of one. Interpol is awaiting the influx of your files and they have already commenced their investigation now that they have the means of accessing the Sparrows’ communication app via DeLaCroix's account. Is that not enough of an olive branch?” The paper crunched as hepeered at us over it. “Conor,” he greeted, his tone more cordial than it had been with me.

“Anton.” Conor seated himself with a weary sigh as he sank into the bucket seat.

A quick scan revealed to me that he was less tired than the other day but that jet lag had worked its wiles on him.

Something he confirmed by rocking his head back against the rest and closing his eyes.

"Did you see DeLaCroix is dead?" I inquired.

"See?" Anton chuckled. "My dear girl, I made it happen."

My brows lifted at that. "Interesting."

"Some pigs just can't be allowed to live," he stated, retreating behind his paper.

I didn't disagree, but it was still curious when his Brotherhood was so pious.

“This Interpol department… How did you pick the officers manning it?”

He heaved a sigh. “I hand-selected them but, by all means, I will have the list of officers sent over to you for vetting.”

Surprised by the easy concession, I murmured, “I’d appreciate that.”

“There are no skeletons in the officers’ closets as far as myPaukscould uncover, buta second set of eyes, especially when they’re yours, is always a wise decision.”

I had no idea why but my mind shifted to something Sheridan Reinier had said: ‘If you trust him, then you’re a fool.’

As a result, my question came out more abruptly than I'd have liked:

“Was my mother’s real name Galena?”

His hand tightened around the paper, making it crunch in his hand.

“I’ll take that as confirmation.”

“Her name was Galena,da.” He folded the newspaper in his lap. “Why do you ask?”

“President Davidson implied they were friends.”

“They met when he visited Moscow in his role as an emissary to the defense secretary in the late eighties.”

“And a friendship was born?” I queried.

“It was. Your mother could be persuasive when she tried.”

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