Greyson sat quietly as the Secretary of Defense, Don Hargraves, continued to drone on and on.
He and his entire team from the Amazon were seated around a rectangular table with a projector at one end and a screen at the other, bored out of their minds. They had been here for an entire week, and everyone was itching to get back to their families.
The Secretary was going off on them that everything had been burned down to the ground and they couldn't find whatever it was that they were looking for. His aide sat quietly beside him, only lifting up his head when he was directed to ask a question. Even the other generals in the room remained quiet.
It was a shit storm, and no one wanted to be the one being dumped on.
Unfortunately for him and his team, they were the chosen sacrifice and had to sit there and just take it.
"Did you at least go through all of the huts, looking for one of the original cartel members to bring back?!?" demanded the Secretary, slamming his hand down on the table.
"Sir?" replied Greyson, more than a little confused. "Our orders were to go in, destroy the organization and leave. And that is exactly what we did."
The Secretary paused, not knowing how to respond. Yes, those were the exact orders he had given, but he had also asked Greyson to bring back a prisoner so that they could… figure a few things out.
"But not a single person survived to collaborate your story," grunted Hargraves, refusing to back down. He was the one in charge of the military after the President, and he wasn't going to be made to look like a fool in front of the man because one of the teams screwed up.
"We can all collaborate his story," answered Levi, raising his hand and directing the irritated man away from Greyson and toward him.
"No, not all of you. In fact, only three of you have the same story. The rest of your team is saying that they retreated to the plane," interjected the aide, looking through some notes.
Nothing made Greyson crankier than having a civilian in a room with the brass. They had never once seen a combat situation, so they shouldn't have any say about what was or wasn't done… or even what should have been done.
They didn't get it. And it was no fault of their own, but that didn't mean that they should be throwing soldiers under the bus in order to suck up to their supervisors.
"I am so sorry that I risked my life in order to give my men the best opportunity at saving theirs," grunted Greyson, his eyes narrowing on the smaller man. He hated this type of bullshit.
It was probably a good thing that as soon as the meeting was done, he would be gone from here.
"And just how did three of you do what no other team we had sent managed to do?" sneered Hargraves.
"Probably because we have connections that the others didn't," shrugged Dom, the smirk on his face letting everyone know that he had a secret that they didn't know about.
"And are you going to explain those connections? Based on the reports from the men you sent on ahead, it looks like you were dealing with mercenaries. Maybe you killed the cartel and took the drugs for yourselves," suggested the aide, and Greyson could feel Levi and Dom stiffen under his accusation.
In fact, every member of his team stiffened under that accusation.
"I see," nodded Greyson, coming to his feet. The rest of his men followed suit, causing Hargraves' mouth to drop open. "So, which one is it? Are you pissed that we destroyed all of the product, or are you pissed that you aren't about to have a piece of it?"
"Watch what you are accusing me of," growled Hargraves, his hands, once again, slamming down against the wooden table, causing the bottles of water and cups of coffee to threaten to spill. "I would hate to see you dishonorably discharged after such a decorated career."
"I'm sorry. Do you think that is a threat?" chuckled Greyson, raising an eyebrow. "I'm leaving the military one way or the other after this. It doesn't matter to me in which way I do it."
That was an outright lie. It would bother him for decades if he were dishonorably discharged because of someone like Hargraves. But at the end of the day… he was looking at eternity, so what was a few decades?
He rubbed the front of his throat where his head had been stitched back on and let out a smirk. However, before he could say a word, the doors to the secret conference room opened, and two figures strolled in, followed quickly by a secretary, who tried to stop them.
"Sirs!" she yelled, rushing to catch up. "It is a top-secret meeting. I don't think that you have the clearance to be in there."
"That's funny. I thought that the President had given me the highest level of clearance possible. Should I call him and ask?" mused one of the men as he took a phone out of his suit pants. He was dressed impeccably in a three-piece suit with a dark gray shirt underneath and a red tie. "What do you think, Hargraves? Do I have the clearance to be here?"
"Of course, Mr. Singer. The President of the United States has made it more than clear that you are welcome anywhere," replied the Secretary of Defense, smiling at him before shooting a glare at the poor woman trying to catch her breath.
"Why don't you get a coffee for Mr. Singer and his bodyguard," he continued, not knowing where this was going. The President was adamant that they do their best to accommodate the CEO of Knights Security, but he didn't have a clue as to why.
Sure, the majority of their weapons were supplied by the man, but there were people all over the world who would kill for that type of contract. In fact, many of them have.
"No need to worry about us, Don. Michael and I won't be staying long. A family meeting has been called, and I just need to grab a few of my family members," smiled Viktor, his hand returning to his pocket, his phone disappearing.
"Family members? I didn't know that we had any Singers in the military, let alone ones related to you," sputtered Hargraves, looking around the room to see who he was referring to.
"Ah, family by marriage, but family none-the-less. Are you ready?"