“So you did know what was going on over there. What Scalero was doing.”
His silence answers me.
“When did it become about money, John? Don’t you have enough of that?”
“It’s not about the money!” he fires back, his anger flaring. Finally. But he tempers it just as quickly. “You know as well as I do what happens to human instincts when they’ve succumbed to that world over there. To that kind of life.”
“No, not everyone loses themselves like that.” We all lose something, but basic decency . . . no. Not most of us, anyway. I’d love to say that all the stories of soldiers going off course are wrong, but that would be a lie.
Some people would say that I went off course long ago.
“If you knew what was going on, why didn’t you stop it?”
He sighs. “I didn’t know until it was too late.”
“Bullshit.”
Weary eyes settle on me. Bentley looks like he’s aged years since I saw him last. “Believe what you want, but it’s true. Alliance has grown beyond anything I ever expected,” he admits. “It’s beyond anything I want. I’ve been in talks with investors for over a year now. People who want to buy me out and take over. They have all kinds of ideas for running internal affairs and managing people. They’ll be good for the company’s future. Talks stalled for a while during the investigation into the civilian shooting in Kandahar, but they’re back on now, and people are ready to sign. Had that videotape surfaced, everything would have fallen apart.”
“So it is about the money.”
“To the investors, it’s all about the money. If they can’t get contracts, there’s no point buying Alliance. They want the expertise and connections I’ve established. The good parts. There are a lot of good parts, still, Sebastian. You are a good part.”
“I’m not a part of Alliance.”
He smiles. “No, you’re not. You could be, though.”
He’s trying to offer me an olive branch. I don’t want it. “You used me. Lied right to my face. You and I, we don’t do that to each other.”
“You would never have agreed to this assignment otherwise. I needed that videotape and you’re the best at what you do. You always have been. Even now, when I’m guessing you’re about to fuck me over.” Bentley reaches into his pocket and I immediately move to grab my gun. He pulls out a loose cigarette and lighter, his hands raised as if to prove his innocence. “So, what’s your plan here, exactly?”
“You know about the APBs on Scalero and Porter.”
He nods, the end of his cigarette burning brighter with his inhale.
“Your guys are about to get nailed for murder, with a witness.”
“With no line of sight on the actual murder.”
“So you’re saying you don’t consider her to be a threat?”
He exhales, smoke sailing out his nostrils and into the crisp air. “I didn’t say that.”
“I didn’t think so.”
His lips purse. “I never thought a woman would be the death of our friendship.”
“She isn’t. But you lying to me is.” I’m not used to being in this position with Bentley—the one in control of the situation. That’s what I feel like I finally have here—control of this fucking disastrous situation. “Are they after her yet?” Now would be the ideal time to make Ivy disappear, before she’s able to listen to Scalero’s deep midwestern accent or see the burn scar covering the back of his hand, or study Porter’s profile, and confirm on a recorded lineup that, yes, these are the two men who killed a Medal of Honor veteran and her uncle. Once that official statement is made, getting rid of her won’t help them any.
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“How would that look, the witness turning up dead hours after an APB goes out? Give me some credit.” He pauses to take another drag. “They’re in a secure location for the moment.”
“They need to answer for what they’ve done, Bentley. Tell me you know that.”
“I do. That’s why I called you the other day, but you refused to take the assignment and hung up on me.”
Scalero and Porter were my next assignment? “You mean I was going to be tasked with getting rid of those two so your ass is covered completely?” I chuckle, though none of this is funny. He must take me for an idiot.
He turns to meet my eyes, his hard and gray. “And what exactly is your plan, then, coming here? Is it any different?”
When I don’t answer—because getting rid of those two is exactly my plan—he continues. “Despite what you think, I don’t want anything to happen to you. I wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for you. And you and I have saved tens of thousands of lives together. Maybe more. What I have built here? Fuck the media. Alliance is a powerful organization that does incredible things. Yes, I make a lot of money because of it. Yes, there are . . . hiccups . . . Bad seeds, like those two. But I won’t let them tear down my legacy to this country. I need Scalero and Porter dealt with before they can hurt anyone else. I wish I’d figured that out sooner. Save everyone a headache.”
“They do need to go. But they also need to answer for what they’ve done.”
I reach for my phone and Bentley’s eyes widen in a flash of panic. Holding the screen out for him, I press Play on the video. Royce’s voice breaks into the quiet peace of the vineyard, and understanding fills Bentley’s eyes.
“I made copies of the video. Several. You’ll never track them all down before they’re released, I can promise you that.” In this case, I’m bluffing. My dad has the only copy, and I’m sure he went straight to the bank to secure it in his safety-deposit box. “So if you’re lying to me and they’re out there looking for Ivy, you might want to stop them now.”
He doesn’t make a move for his phone. “What exactly do you want from me?”
“You’re going to tell me where Mario Scalero and Ricky Porter are right now.”
“There’s no need for the theatrics.” He gestures to the ended video. “We want the same thing.”
I don’t think he understands, exactly. But he will.
“Give me their location, and I’ll do the right thing.”
He sighs. “And then?”
“And then I’m going to walk away, and this arrangement of ours is over.” I can’t do this and live a normal life. “You’re going to forget about me, you’re going to forget about Ivy, and everyone wins.”
“It’s not that simple, Sebastian.”
“It is. Because if you don’t, and if for some reason something should happen to either Ivy or me, then everything I’ve done for you over the past five years will fall into big hands. Names, dates, locations, purposes. Everything.” While I may not have listened to my father’s warning when Bentley first invited me to work for him, I did hear it. And it ate at me, an insipid voice that grew louder and louder, until I couldn’t completely ignore it. And so I began documenting critical details, figuring that if something ever happened to me, my father could see firsthand that I was doing good, that his disappointing son was making a difference, was saving lives. Maybe he would finally approve of me.