Sins of the Undead Patriot. a.c. Mason

fight to keep their operations financed.

      “If Rowley finds out I’m seeing an undead, he won’t have anything to do with me.”

      “McKie may become angry at first but he will also pursue you harder. Losing you to one of them won’t be an option he’d consider feasible.”

      The man never had tried harder than when she was married. “I’m not a fan of Ancients.” She was happy to live and let unlive, but that didn’t mean she wanted to mix.

      “You don’t need to be.” He chuckled. “I’m not your type either, but your body enjoyed our encounter. It’s why you’re perfect for the job. Emotionally frigid and physically torrid. You’d have made a great agent.”

      The man wished she had enjoyed it. She had shut down to get through it and it would seem he hadn’t even noticed. Her father would be proud that she was finally putting her smarts to good use. Who knew the feds were such pimps? “I might not have a grip on my emotions, but I do have morals.”

      “And do those include your brother wasting away at Guantanamo Bay? We are less concerned with your morals than we are with the safety of the president.”

      This was way over her head. How was the president’s safety involved? He’d made no mention of this before. Guess she was on a need to know basis.

      “I’ll pick up Peter if you can’t see past your own self-righteousness.”

      Asshole. “I’ll help you.”

      “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to overstep your morals, Ms. Waltz.”

      “I’ll do it.” For Peter, she’d do anything. “What if I can’t pull this off? I have no training and no clue what I’m doing. I’m a chef, not some government agent.”

      “Technically, now you’re both. From the footage I viewed, you’re a pro in the sack–can’t think of much else female agents do. For Peter’s sake, you’ll find a way to pull this off.” He reclined and set his feet on the table. “I trust you can find your way back to your car? It’s a block back.”

      “Yes.” She didn’t give a damn how cold it was. The last thing she wanted was another ride with him. She slipped on her shoes. “How will I contact you?”

      “I’ll be in touch as needed.” He jerked his head to the side, gesturing to the exit.

      That was cause for concern.

      How was she to date this Ancient she knew was trying to ruin her brother? She tied her jacket.

      “Oh, and use protection. Wouldn’t want you to catch anything or get hooked.”

      What a mess she was in.

       Chapter 3

      The white business card lay flush on Rowley McKie’s desk, facing him, next to the closed folder.

       Dr. Barton DeGruis, PhD

       Homeland Security

       Federal Coordinator of Civil Defense

      Devin shifted in his seat behind the Fed, hand under his suit jacket on his gun. Agents were a hassle to dispose of.

      “It’s a perfect setup.” Mr. DeGruis wrapped his hands around the arms of his chair.

      Aside from the fact that Rowley didn’t trust any Fed, he was especially wary of one waltzing into his office offering him a golden egg. He didn’t like people who insisted on having academic notations accompanying their name. Weren’t feds born with a PhD in politician ass kissing?

      “If I’ve got your plan correct, Mr. DeGruis, you’re going help us assassinate the president. But who says I want to kill the president?”

      “I do. You’re running out of time. Ten years of political maneuvering is coming to an end and the first Bill of Undead Rights will pass. The tentative date is February fourteenth on the thirtieth anniversary of the American government opening the doors to the undead, so to speak, which is only four months and change from now.”

      “Back to the details of this plan of yours, which is to make it look like Vaihan Louchian is framing the leader of the Army of the Living. Meaning me, as everyone has the misguided notion it is moi. All the while, we have it go down for the actual deed.” Rowley got the advantage the feds saw in having numerous scapegoats to pin the crime on, but that still didn’t make sense. “My question is why?” Since he would know the truth about what actually happened.

      “To put it bluntly, the current administration is failing the living citizens of this great nation and sheltering the undead minority. Other than The Unabomber, who else has been able to evade the authorities this long? I have it on good authority that the CIA is planning a takedown of your outfit. If we don’t put something in motion now, frankly, there will be no one with the resources to pull this off. Homeland Security doesn’t believe it’s in the best interest of this country to give the undead the same rights and privileges that the living enjoy. I can’t imagine an undead president. Who’s to say they won’t decide that cloned humans isn’t good enough? I don’t want to be sent off to the slaughter.” Mr. DeGruis leaned back in the seat. “They could overturn the law that doesn’t permit them to create more of their kind. It’s hard to know what their motives are. Nor do we feel we should take the risk and find out.”

      Green eyes razor sharp, Devin watched Mr. DeGruis. A closed folder on his desk contained the details of the plan. There were three possible venues for the hit to go down. One he and his man were considering as well.

      If Mr. DeGruis couldn’t pull off “the frame,” the Military of the Living wouldn’t be their scapegoat to fall back on. When the current president was killed, zombies would be blamed. The vice president would assume command and round up all the undead.

      “How does the CIA plan on taking us down?” Rowley placed his hands on the cherry wood desk, palms up.

      “If I tell you how the CIA plans to pick the Army of the Living apart, what reason will you have to help me?” Mr. DeGruis tilted his shiny bald head.

      He did have a point. The Army of the Living already planned on killing the president, but if they could then use Homeland Security to instill fear in Americans about the government involvement in the conspiracy, all the better. The country might clean sweep high levels of the civil service at the same time. Just because Vice President Jose Torrez’s beliefs prevented him from fully embracing the undead didn’t mean political maneuvering wouldn’t when push came to shove. Politicians were all the same, looking out for the next election.

      “The information would be a gesture of good faith.” Something feds knew little about. “You’ve come to me, not the other way around.”

      “Have a new up-and-comer within the ranks of your men?” The man’s lips parted, and his gold-capped tooth shone.

      Ah, he saw where he was going with this. A fucking snitch in their midst.

      “A man with just the right mix of personal tragedy related to zombies with a record of hate crimes against the undead.”

      Rowley nodded to his right hand man Devin. “Bring the rat bastard to the back room.” Neil. He was the snitch.

      Devin’s lips turned up on one side, his green gaze gleamed with agreement.

      If he didn’t need to test Barton’s commitment level to seeing this through, Rowley would shoot the mole himself.

      Devin vanished down the hall.

      Anger worked a storm of fury inside Rowley’s chest. “Do you know how we deal with infiltrators, Mr. DeGruis?”

      “I doubt you house them in a jail and feed them three square meals a day like the current administration does for the undead criminals.”

      Nor did the Army of the Living give a