Page 116 of The Thief
"Sure enough. Meet at Stephen's in an hour. Bring Alastríona. None of us are leaving our women alone right now."
The line goes dead before I can ask for details. But Maverick's tone tells me everything I need to know. This is bad. Worse than bad.
I dress quickly and check my weapons out of habit. Whatever's happening, whatever we've discovered, it's going to require careful handling.
"Freddie?" Alastríona's voice is groggy and full of confusion. "What's wrong?"
"Business. We need to go to Stephen's."
She sits up, immediately alert despite the early hour. "What kind of business?"
"The kind that could get us all killed if we're not careful."
Stephen's house looks like a fortress when we arrive. Extra security at the gates, armed men positioned around the perimeter. He's taking no chances.
Maverick's already there, Lisa beside him looking worried but determined. Emmanuel arrives minutes after us, Clodagh close at his side. The women exchange looks. They know something's happening, something that's got their men spooked.
"Living room," Stephen says, gesturing to the women. "Jessica's got coffee and breakfast ready."
"We want to know what's happening," Lisa says.
"After we figure it out ourselves," Maverick replies. "This could be sensitive."
"Sensitive how?"
"The kind where people die if the wrong information gets out."
The women retreat without further argument, but I can see the questions in their eyes. They're not stupid; they know when their men are worried.
In Stephen's office, the atmosphere is tense, and the air is charged. If what Mav says is true, someone close to us is going to die. The question is, who's stupid enough to betray us?
"Talk," I say.
"Lorenzo called an hour ago," Maverick starts. "Sullivan's dead."
Stephen's eyes narrow as he turns to Maverick. "How?"
"Tortured. Badly. Someone wanted information from him, and they took their time getting it."
My stomach clenches. Sullivan was our inside man, the source who gave us Trace's plans. If he's dead, if he talked before he died...
"What did he give up?"
"We’re assuming everything. Names, locations, operational details. Trace knows we had a man inside his organization."
"Fuck."
"Gets worse. Trace also knows specific details about our security protocols, our safe houses, our family arrangements. Information that Sullivan never had access to."
The implications hit like a sledgehammer. "Someone on our side is feeding him intel."
"Has to be. The question is who."
We look at each other, weighing possibilities. The Houlihan organization is small, and tight-knit. Everyone's been vetted, tested, and proven themselves loyal over years of service.
But someone's playing both sides.
"Could be anyone," Emmanuel says. "Driver, security guard, office worker. Doesn't have to be someone high up to have access to sensitive information."
