Free Administrative Control (Immortal Ops) by Mandy M. Roth Page B

next to Duke and held out his cell phone.
    Duke looked at the small screen and tipped his head. “What the fuck is that?”
    Striker beamed. “Picture of me in my kilt.”
    “Where are the rest of your clothes and why are you standing in front of a mirror? What are you holding?”
    Sighing, Striker shook his head as if he was going to need to speak to a child. “I’m holdin’ my phone to take the picture and the ladies like it when I post pictures of myself shirtless on my profile page.”
    Duke stiffened. “You took a picture of yourself and put it on the internet?”
    “Aye.”
    Duke seriously considered getting a new best friend. His current one was a jackass.
    Striker leaned in and held his phone out, snapping a picture of them both. Duke grabbed his phone and squeezed, crushing it with one hand. It fell to pieces on the floor.
    “Och, was that called for?” asked Striker, looking far too attached to his phone for Duke’s liking.
    “Think about what you’re doing. How are you going to explain all that away later when you have to reinvent yourself?”
    Striker licked his lips. “I’m gonna tell ’em I’m a vampire or a time traveler. Humans seem to be into wantin’ one of those to be true. I say fuck it. We give ’em what they want. They’re simple minded. They’ll believe what we tell ’em.”
    Duke sat perfectly still, knowing his friend was on a roll. “Vampires are real. I took out an entire den of them just last month.”
    Striker waved a hand dismissively. “Not the rotting kind. The sexy kind. Like in the movies.”
    “Jackass.”
    “Thanks. You owe me a phone.”
    “Corbin keeps extras in his desk drawer for when I lose my temper. Grab one of those.” Duke pointed in the direction of Corbin’s desk and then went back to trying to get his computer to shut off. His computer won the battle four more times in a row. “Piece of shit!”
    Laughing, Striker came to his rescue with a new phone in hand. He took the wireless mouse from Duke’s grasp. “It’s nae gonna shut down with you bumpin’ the mouse. Here. Let me.”
    Duke slid back in the chair and then stood. He’d rather be in the den again with the vamps and a stick than dealing with the piece of crap computer. “Keep the fucker.”
    Striker continued to laugh. “You know, if you tried a little harder you might actually learn to like the thing.”
    Sliding his long-time friend a hard look, Duke stood silent. No words needed to be spoken. He’d never bond with his damn computer. It simply wasn’t in his nature.
    Striker glanced at the screen. “Hold up, are these the reports on the Seattle incident?”
    “Yep.”
    “Anything interesting you want to share? We ever find the person who relayed the faulty meeting coordinates to you?” asked Striker.
    Duke understood what Striker was actually asking—did they find the traitor who sent Duke on a wild goose chase while one of their operatives needed assistance and backup. Shaking his head, Duke stood, allowing Striker to take his seat. “No. I knew the voice was off but, Striker, the guy had the passcodes. I didn’t recognize the voice but you know interference can be on some of the comms and relay equipment.”
    Striker sighed. “Aye, I’d believe the orders too if I were given the right passcodes.”
    “That was what they were counting on,” Duke agreed. “I fell right into their trap. Eadan was lucky to have the Immortal Ops Team there to back him. I nearly didn’t make it in time.”
    Striker shut off the devil computer and stood as well. He touched Duke’s shoulder. “You couldnae help how it went down and in the end you did make it in time. Eadan was thankful for yer help.”
    There was nothing Duke could say so he decided to change the subject. “Beers, huh?”
    “Cheap ones.” Striker laughed.
    “You do realize we have more money than we could ever hope to spend, right?” questioned Duke. And they did. They’d all done well in their own rights and PSI paid