Page 27 of Fool’s Gold

And, to be fair, he liked that about Matt. He hadn’t expected to, but here he was. Matt had the option to walk away from this whole mess, but he had a sense of right and wrong that went beyond dollar signs. Yeah, he was getting paid and getting paid well, but he’d make more money if he didn’t keep all the research and development functions in Georgia, for example. He could just as easily have offshored most of it, to places where they didn’t have safety regulations.

Jack pushed the thoughts away. He needed to focus on how to keep the guy safe, not on what a saint he was. And for a saint, he’d been up for some real sin over the weekend...

Down boy. There wasn’t anything wrong with it.

He retreated to the bedroom to make a video call to Levi, who’d advised him there was news via text earlier in the day. Levi picked up right away, not that Jack was sure how to take that.

“How are things in the Mile High City, boss?”

“Arid.” Levi gave him a tired smile. “As always. Listen, your witness statement says the jackass from yesterday’s little incident claims Matt—or Besse, which is more likely—killed his mother.”

Jack shrugged. “That’s what the guy said.”

Levi snorted and took a giant gulp from his coffee. “That’s cute, because his mother died ten years ago in a single-car DUI.”

Jack huffed out a laugh. It was all he could do. “Another false flag kind of thing?”

“Looks like. The name he gave authorities was fake too. When they ran his prints, it raised the eyebrows of Colonel Noah Darrow in Military Intelligence—a friend of Five Star and a close friend of Ken Irvine, as it happens. Older brother of the guy who blew the lid off the flu in the first place.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “I believe I heard something about that over the weekend. About Darrow, anyway. Met Sam Darrow myself.”

“It’s a small old world. Anyway, Lead Pipe Guy is not a college student or even an Atlanta resident. His real name is Kyle Farnsworth, and he deserted from the five hundred and twenty-fifth Expeditionary Military Intelligence Brigade while deployed in Europe. He was born and raised in Glenvil, Nebraska, and our friend has been happy enough to hold him at Fort Benning while the Feds ask him some questions, but he’s been differently forthcoming.”

“Awesome.” Jack massaged his temples. “You know, just once I’d love for one of these jerks to admit it, you know? Just come right out and say, ‘Yeah, I’m being paid, but not enough to hide the person who hired me. It was Colonel Mustard, and the proof is right here in these screenshotted texts. He’s not paying me enough to take the fall for him either.’ Is that too much to ask?”

“Usually. Especially considering the kind of targets Farnsworth usually takes on. He’s been tied to the acid attack on that singer in London, the actor who got stabbed during that gala in Mexico—”

Jack perked up at that. “Hits in public places? I’ve been wondering who that was. He’s very good.”

“Well, not good enough, because you kicked his ass.” Levi smirked. “Congratulations. But, yeah—the person, or people—who paid him aren’t paying chump change.”

“No, they wouldn’t be. He’s been traced back to Putin.”

“He’ll do anything for anyone, for the right price. I guess MREs were a hit to his ego. What can I say? I definitely don’t think angry Besse victims are your guy’s main concern right now. With this kind of guy, we pretty much have to assume it’s a head of state or a corporation.”

Jack sucked his cheeks in. “Which means Besse.”

“Not necessarily.” Levi winced. “They’re the most likely candidates, but that doesn’t mean they’re the only ones. I mean, think about it. Any other pharma company would love to see Besse wiped off the map, and Matt’s the best candidate to make sure that doesn’t happen. Plenty of companies have seen their productivity—and their profits—tank because of the stupid flu. That counts for a lot in corporate circles.”

Jack glared, but he had to drop it. “So what am I supposed to do here, huh? I can’t just sit around and kind of hope whoever it is feels bad and lets it go.”

Levi laughed. “No one’s asking you to. You’re not a cop, Jack. You’re smart, but it’s literally not your job to suss out who the guy behind the contract is. It’s your job to keep your guy safe while law enforcement does their thing.

“Matt Taggart might be the most-unassuming rich guy I know, but he’s still the CEO of a multinational billion-dollar corporation, and the Feds aren’t just going to let someone throw assassins at him until he dies. Besse is responsible for the vaccines our soldiers get, as well as the vaccines that get sent to millions of lower-income Americans all over the country. Letting them dissolve or fall into chaos would endanger the lives of too many people.”

Jack rubbed his temples. “I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I don’t want to let some killer get to Matt either.”

Levi shot him a look. “Don’t tell me you’re getting attached.”

Jack scoffed, even as his insides roiled. “Come on, Levi. It’s me. I’m Teflon, remember? He’s nicer than a guy in his position should be and he’s easy on the eyes, but I’ll be somewhere else as soon as this job ends.”

Levi nodded once. “Of course. Speaking of which, do you have any preferences for your next assignment?”

Jack didn’t hesitate. “Anyplace not in the South. Do you have any idea how humid it is in Georgia? Also they don’t even do coffee, unless you’re somewhere private. I asked a cop for directions, and he legit asked me why I bothered with coffee when I could just drink a Coke.” He shuddered. Then Levi’s words hit him.

“Wait a minute. Matt’s still in active danger right now. It’s way too early to talk about my next assignment.”

“The Feds have some ideas. They don’t think it’ll take too long to gather evidence, but they’re not sharing much this time around. Makes sense, if you think about it. Also, I’m pretty sure there’s coffee in Atlanta.”

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