“Yep.” Jax paused. “And, Raze? Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” The soldier glanced at him, gaze steady. “Atherton’s forces are stretched thin, and he usually travels with a squad of twenty-five or so. Many of those should be out on local missions. See you there.” He mock-saluted Ernie and then turned to jog into the desert to approach the casino from the back.
Jax watched him go, his mind spinning. “How the fuck did he know that information?” Something to ask Raze at the nearest opportunity, to be sure. For now, he had work to do. Jax spent the next thirty minutes going through empty vehicles and then finally climbed back into the driver’s seat. “You ready?”
“Yes,” Ernie mumbled, his head against the back of the seat, his eyes closed.
Hopefully the guy wouldn’t kick the bucket on the mission. Jax started the van and wove through several more cars before finding a clear road. Waiting fifteen minutes, he reached Franco’s Casino. It rose from the desert, no longer shining with lights but still impressive and large. A ten-foot tall metal dollar sign stood strong and steady in the center of a sprawling parking lot littered with abandoned vehicles. Two men, fully armed, guarded the glass doorway. A vestibule was clearly visible through the many panes of glass. Inside sat a man flanked by two more guys with guns.
Besides the casino, the only other building within half a mile was a gas station to the left. Jax watched as Raze moved up behind a sniper on the station’s roof and put him out of commission. God, the guy was good. Keeping secrets, but damn good at that, too.
Jax glanced at Ernie as he pulled up near the front door. “You okay staying in the van with your gun out the window?”
“Yes.” Ernie nodded, his hand trembling on a shotgun. “I’ll shoot if you give the signal.”
Jax took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing. Raze would be able to see through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and he had a sniper’s rifle. This was going better than expected. He pushed out of the van and made his way to the soldiers at alert.
“Weapons,” the first one said.
“Yes, and you can’t have them.” Jax smiled.
The guy turned and shoved Jax face first into the window. Jax let him and allowed himself to be frisked. “I didn’t say I have the weapons on me,” he said dryly as the guy pulled him back around. He wasn’t crazy enough to carry weapons while possibly meeting with the president of the United States.
The soldier roughly grabbed him and opened the door to shove him inside.
Without the air-conditioning, the glassed-in room shimmered with too much heat.
“Master Sergeant Mercury,” a blond man said from a settee in the corner. He gestured to a seat across a marble table. “Please, sit.”
Jax eyed the guy. Sharp blue eyes, clean shave, fighting shape. Yep. Bret Atherton. He’d seen clips of the former Speaker of the House on television. “Mr. President.” He moved forward and took a seat, angling his body to keep an eye on the two interior guards. Raze would have to watch the guys outside.
“It’s nice to meet you in person.” Atherton reached into a basket and drew out a bottle of water he passed across the table.
“Thank you.” Jax didn’t move to take the water, his senses attuned to the rest of the building, which remained quiet. “Where is Greg Lake?”
“Busy elsewhere.”
Jax straightened. “All right. What is the status of the government?”
Atherton smoothed his white button-down shirt. “We’re reorganizing.”
Ah. Jax studied him, noting the charisma and intelligence. A primitive beast rose within Jax to claim Lynne publicly. The woman was his and would remain so. Right now, he had to tamp down on himself and think.
Oh, he believed Lynne that Atherton was a Ripper, one of the controlled, organized ones, but the question was, should the man stay in power? If Atherton died, what would happen then? Maybe anybody in power with some logic, even a Ripper, would be better than chaos. Especially if outside threats still existed. “What are your forces?”
Atherton smiled, all charm on what was probably considered a handsome face. “I’ve consolidated all branches of the military beneath the Elite Force for now, and my numbers are around several thousand, all working right now to recruit and gather our forces.”
Several thousand? “Please define several,” Jax said.
“More, many more, than you have under your command.” Atherton met his gaze levelly.
Fair enough. “Do we know about outside threats?”
“Not yet.” Atherton lost his smile. “There’s a chance of foreign attack at every moment, which is why I need my best soldiers in place. You’re good. Damn good.”
Yeah, but he couldn’t work with a man who wanted Lynne dead, and the mere thought clenched Jax’s fingers in a need to strike. “Thank you.”
Atherton leaned forward, and a USB drive on a cord slipped free to rest on his shirt. “How many forces do you have?”
“Not many,” Jax said honestly, unwilling to give a number. “What’s with the USB drive?”
Atherton grasped the flash drive and fingered it with a low hum. “Lynne is on here.” His chin lowered, and his chest moved. “Memories of a sort, as well as research. She really is the best, you know.”
Jax leaned back, nausea mixing with a rapidly growing anger in his gut. “Nope. Never met any Lynne. I’m assuming that’s Blue Heart?”
Atherton rolled his eyes, making him instantly more approachable. “For goodness sake, I know you have her in your compound. I’ve known for a while.”
“I don’t,” Jax said easily.
Atherton pressed his lips together. “According to Cruz Martinez, Lynne Harmony has been with your group for days.”
Jax stilled. “Cruz is a liar.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” Atherton’s nostrils flared as he inhaled. “You’re not the only group in L.A. with a ham radio, Master Sergeant Mercury. We’re also in contact with Twenty, and we’re impressed by their forces. However, I’d rather not do business with gangs.”
“Meaning what?” Jax asked softly, his body tensing naturally in case he needed to strike.
Atherton picked a piece of lint off his dark jeans. “Meaning I need forces, and I need allies. I’d much rather work with you, a soldier in our military, than a criminal who just wants to kill. But I need soldiers.”
Yeah. That made sense. “Say I do have Lynne, what do you want with her?” Jax asked, having no doubt Cruz had reached out to the president. It was a smart thing to do, and Cruz was no dummy. But he was a criminal, and he wasn’t trained like Jax or his forces. The president had to know that fact.
“She’s infected with a more dangerous strain of Scorpius.”
“Bullshit. Try again.”
Atherton studied him and then smiled. “Fine. That was a story to gain cooperation from citizens in finding Lynne. The truth? I need her back at work,” he said. “I have her research on this USB, and we can rig a laptop with a generator so she can return to her research.”
Jax eyed the innocuous flash drive. “Did she find a cure?”
“Not yet, but if anybody can, it’s Lynne.” Atherton rubbed the USB drive.
“So you want her back for research reasons,” Jax drawled.
Atherton leaned back, relaxing. “Of course I want her back for her research skills and knowledge. The woman is brilliant.” He exhaled slowly. “And yes, I want her back for personal reasons, too. When I first recuperated from the fever, I scared her, and I regret that. It took a while to gain my, well, balance back.”
Jax studied him, fighting the urge to punch the guy who used to date Lynne. However, Atherton’s statement about the fever was true, and Jax could relate. “You killed the sitting president of the United States.”
Atherton blanched. “I know. Not my finest moment.”
Jax tried to hide his surprise. “So you do admit it.”
“I do.” Atherton shook his head. “Of course, he was weak and wasn’t working for the country. She told you that, right?”