“But Wolf and his boys recognized the names. Apparently they’ve run into this New Ruling Order before. Wolf didn’t say much, but I get the impression the NRO is a major threat,” Rawls added quietly.
Zane nodded absently, staring thoughtfully into the amber liquid in his glass. “I did some checking last night. If your ghost isn’t fucking with you, we’ve got a serious problem. Eric Manheim heads up the Manheim-Clifton financial coalition. They own hundreds of banks and financial institutions throughout the world. Hell, as the only child of the Manheim family dynasty and husband to the only child of the Clifton family dynasty, Eric Manheim controls the national banks of virtually every country in existence—including the Bank of England, the United States Federal Reserve, the Bank of Japan, the Central Bank of Jordan, the Bank of France, and the Central Bank of Austria. He’s arguably the most powerful man in existence—untouchable.”
Mac frowned. “Nobody’s untouchable.”
Although it would be much, much harder to level accusations at someone with such an elite stature. And that was assuming Rawls’s damn ghost, or more likely their corpsman’s fertile imagination, produced anything substantial linking Eric Manheim to anything.
But Manheim wasn’t the person he wanted to focus on.
“James Link is the name that interests me,” Mac said, leaning far enough back in his chair to bring the front two legs off the ground. “Ghost interrogation aside, with Embray out of commission, Link heads up Dynamic Solutions’ experimental department. That shit swimming in Brendan’s and Benji’s cells is as experimental as fuck, right up Dynamic Solutions’ alley. James Link has to know what the hell was injected into Amy’s kids. That’s where we start looking.”
Heads nodded in agreement.
Mac turned to Rawls. “You hear if Wolf’s people had any luck neutralizing the isotope?”
Rawls had spent every spare moment in the clinic overseeing Faith Ansell’s tests, so maybe he’d run into Amy recently. The last update Mac had gotten had been within hours of arriving at Shadow Mountain. While they’d identified the synthetic compound in the boys’ blood cells that was powering the signal, nobody had known how to deactivate the element. But maybe progress had been made in the past twenty-four hours.
“Far as I know, they don’t have a clue what to do about it.” Rawls’s voice was grim.
Cosky leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “Have they tried a healing?” He glanced around the table and shrugged. “Kait says there’re other healers in this place. She’s all gung ho to try herself, but hell”—he broke off to scowl—“she needs to do some resting and recharging before she burns herself out.”
“If doing a healin’ is an option, I’m guessin’ they would have already tried that,” Rawls said, glancing up. “Cos is right. Doc Kerry rattled off a couple of other healers while talkin’ to Wolf—” He glanced at Cosky. “He also said she was stronger than the others. In fact, I believe he called her remarkable . . .” He paused, shrugged. “By the by, did you know those two are siblin’s? Or half sibs anyway?”
“Who?” Mac’s question hit the air at the same time Zane’s did. Apparently he wasn’t the only one in the dark when it came to the Shadow Mountain’s gossip mill.
“Wolf and Kait,” Rawls said. “Kerry said she’s Wolf’s sister.”
Mac turned to stare at Cosky, who didn’t look at all surprised.
Zane picked up on that as well. “You knew?”
Cosky shrugged. “Wolf was worried for her and Aiden’s safety. Wanted to keep the connection private.”
“Well that explains why he’s been so damn invested in her,” Zane said.
“Can’t say I envy you having that stony bastard as a brother-in-law,” Mac said on a grimace.
With a snort, Cosky settled back against his chair’s backrest. “You forgetting all the toys he comes with?”
Mac grinned slightly at that. He’d sure as hell like to get his hands on that little beauty that had ferried them up to Alaska in five hours—give or take a couple of minutes. The trip had taken half as long as it would have taken in a stripped down Black Hawk. Which reminded him. “You realize this damn compound is in motherfucking Mount McKinley?”
Shadow Mountain’s brass hadn’t been nearly as closemouthed as good old Wolf.
“It makes sense. The mountain’s sacred to the native population,” Cosky said. “What’s incredible is the amount of work that must have gone into hollowing it out and constructing the base.” He paused to scowl. “Yet nobody noticed? Fuck, fifteen hundred people climb to the summit every year, and nobody noticed what was going on under their feet, or that huge flat tarmac up there where helicopters and planes land and disappear? There’s something pretty fucking weird about this place.”
Uneasy silence ringed the table.