Page 138 of Sins of Innocence

The Vanta is the first model of the Whisper guns and we've kept the client list short, only dealing to a few select allies.

Ethan says, "Kenneth met Nyström twice this week."

That smacks of desperation.

I lean back slightly in my chair, looking around the room. "Threat assessment."

"Kenneth's isolated but still operational," Ethan says.

Thomas looks down at the photos on the table. "He's still making plans, trying to build allies."

Or maintaining connections with the relationships he's already built.

Either way, Brogan's wrong to believe that demoting his cousin detoothed the threat Kenneth represents. Mick's not that short sighted, but then, that's why we're all here.

Our assignment is still to assess how deep the rot of sedition reaches into the brotherhood. My personal assignment is to neutralize Kenneth.

His death will do that nicely.

"Which means he's scared," Dagda says.

"No," I correct. "He's desperate." Scared men hide. Desperate men gamble.

Which makes him more dangerous.

"My wife and daughters stay under full security rotation." Right now, two of the men who worked with me on Brice's crew before I got promoted are watching them. "I'll be taking the girls to school with Áine this morning," I tell Thomas, who is on the rotation to do it.

"Copy that." He gives a credible salute.

"Allies within the mob?" I ask my team.

Noah, Thomas and Dagda report that though there is grumbling, there's no evidence of deeper involvement in the coup attempt by other members of the mob. Even when the talk juice was utilized to loosen tongues.

McLaren and Ethan confirm the findings of the others when they finish reporting on Kenneth's interactions for the five days we spent in Anaheim and the week since we got back.

"He seems to be relying on allies outside the mob, like his friend the fed." McLaren's fingers start moving over her keyboard again. "I'll keep digging into Fisk. Financials, travel, communications, offshore transfers. Dirty agents are basically raccoons. They always leave fingerprints in the trash eventually."

Noah blinks. "That metaphor got away from you."

"I stand by it."

I pull my phone out and glance at the newest text waiting for me from Áine. Joy wants to know if narwhals are real because her teacher says yes but she thinks he's lying.

Something tight eases in my chest.

"Áine texting you?" McLaren asks in a teasing tone.

"Yeah."

"Figured." McLaren rolls her eyes. "You've got that goofy look on your face."

I do not have a fucking goofy look. "You found Bás ó Na Scáthanna yet?"

"Not yet." And the failure to do so is pissing McLaren off.

I raise my brow.

She scowls. "Touche. I'll leave you alone about my bestie. For now."