Rising Tomorrow (Roc de Chere Book 1), Mariana Morgan [epub e ink reader .TXT] 📗

Maybe without Gonzalez’s codes she couldn’t simply access the Police Forces’ network, but no one had created security features she couldn’t hack yet. Even the Central Police Inspectorate would reveal all its secrets when she put her skills to work.

She lifted her head a tiny bit and gave Gonzalez a lopsided smile. It probably looked pitiful and weak, but it made her feel better. Her head was clear. Well, it wasn’t clear—she doubted her head would be properly clear anytime soon—but it was enough.

You watching me, bastard? Watch this!

She accessed her own account and opened the message from Wagner. As expected, it contained treats, obscene language and grotesque promises of punishment if she disappointed him, and a long list of expectations. It also contained multiple pages, and Megan smirked internally when her hand froze before she scrolled down.

Yeah, I’m terrified, you go right ahead thinking that. So terrified I can’t bring myself to read the rest. I’m fucking trembling in front of you.

Quietly, Gonzalez withdrew back into the conference room. Megan was by no means an open book, but he had known her for years and it didn’t take him long to understand the mental process the young woman had just gone through. He approved. And he felt proud. He had no doubt that she would work her way through the uncertainty and the fear. He had trained her for years. She was bright and eager. And she did survive the abusive training the military had subjected her and other Leeches to before she was assigned to the MIS.

It was hard to justify drawing upon skills acquired in such conditions, but skills were skills and Gonzalez wasn’t one to hesitate. Truth be told, those Leeches who survived the first few months were either broken as hell or tough as nails. Selissa Bassett, now Megan O’Haress, definitely fell into the second category, though he knew that her mental scarring was substantial.

He cared about her as if she were the younger sister he never had. At least… I hope I care about her as if she were my younger sister, and not someone else.

***

Precisely on time, Gonzalez gave a knock on what barely half an hour before had been his office door. He found it ironic that he actually had to school himself to look more scared than he was. The worry about those entrusted to his charge and about the success of their mission was continuously feeding him adrenaline, preparing his body and mind for action. He was clear-headed, calm and ready to pounce.

But what he had to project was self-servient worry and ass-licking subservience. His first-hand experience of that was limited. Before becoming DCI Raphael Gonzalez, he was after all a highly born Elite, and the list of privileges that came with that was about a kilometre long.

‘You wanted to see me, sir?’ he asked, stopping as far away from what used to be his desk as the walls of the room allowed.

Commissioner Wagner gave him a measured look, remaining silent. Yet another of his petty ways to assert control over new subordinates.

Gonzalez allowed his training-honed instincts to run the show, going through the motions automatically with astounding precision. His eyes flicked nervously to Wagner’s face and away, too nervous to stop anywhere for more than a heartbeat, while his breathing became ragged as the silence stretched. It might not be who he was born, but he knew exactly who Raphael Gonzalez was supposed to be.

‘Sir?’ As the seconds of scrutiny stretched, Gonzalez allowed his faked nervousness to speak. Breaking the silence without permission was likely to annoy Wagner, and the more he could focus Wagner’s wrath on him, the safer Ingram and Megan would be for the time being, allowing them to continue doing their jobs.

His eyes flicked skittishly around some more as his face winced in anticipation of the outburst Wagner was no doubt working himself towards.

‘Who the fuck was insane enough to put you in charge of this investigation?’ Wagner’s voice dripped with irony.

Gotcha!

‘Sir, I did what I could. With the personnel transfers and lack of resources I—’

‘Bullshit!’ the whip cracked. ‘You saw this investigation as a dead end to your career, and you decided to please some sonofabitch by becoming a damn paper-pusher who needed to cross all his Ts and dot all his Is. How is that working out for you?’

‘Sir, I… I didn’t—’ The nervous stutter felt odd, but Gonzalez let his instincts guide him. He fidgeted nervously, letting his surprisingly sweaty hands tug at the hem of his tunic. If speaking out of turn annoyed Wagner, moving without permission was likely to piss him off even more. And pissed-off people made mistakes.

Interesting, though, Gonzalez thought, his agile brain multitasking despite outward signs of rapidly approaching panic. There is no logical reason why Wagner should care about the exploitation and murder of Leeches. He should want the investigation swept under the rug. Perhaps he is just toying with me, full of himself, chewing me out for doing exactly what he is about to do himself.

The real question, however, is whether he wants this investigation ended for personal gains, or whether someone ordered him to and he has no idea what’s going on.

‘I will tell you how this is working out for you. Badly,’ Wagner continued in that same icy tone of voice that promised retribution. ‘You were supposed to step in, confirm the first investigation’s findings, put your useless signature down under the arrest orders and be gone. But you decided to be a knight in fucking shining armour. Instead of focusing on the murder of Alexa Valentino, you wanted to be some damn hero who could solve every pathetic murder in the fucking slums. What is it? Tired of being an ass-licker? Or do you see yourself as some damn defender of the Leeches?’

No, you don’t care about Leeches, asshole. What are you after, then?

‘I care about doing my job,’ Gonzalez replied lamely. His own ears heard a touch of defiance and hurt