Alpha Shield

Simple - Killian

Crack

The scent of blood on the air only ramped his Alpha's rage higher so that he didn't register at first that the coppery smell belonged to himself. When the sting finally pierced the haze of anger engulfing him, he glanced at his palm to find a shard of brown glass from his shattered beer bottle sticking out of his palm. Plucking the splintered glass from his flesh, he flicked it back onto the table and ignored the bead of blood that welled up in its place.

The vicious growl filling the air vibrated the glittering splinters of glass on the tabletop, but try as he might, he couldn't silence the aggressive sound emanating from his chest. Lifting his eyes from the tabletop to the male across from him, Killian forcibly clenched his thighs so that he didn't lunge across the table and wrap his bleeding hand around the other Alpha's throat.

"How the fuck did that happen?" Malcolm's growl vibrated with nearly the intensity of Killian's own, and other patrons of the bar were beginning to take notice. Some of the Betas didn't try to be discrete as they quickly threw money down on sticky tables and headed for the exit. A few Alphas followed in their wake although with less panic and more caution as one predator would watch another. Within a few seconds, only a handful of other patrons were left in the bar: one drunk and passed out in a corner and a handful of frat bros too wrapped up in a soccer match on the TV to pay attention to the rising tension coming from their table.

"We don't know yet, but it's under investigation. Emily Canda and the rest of the geek league are trying to recover footage, and while we've got the guards in interrogation, we don't have any leads yet." James kept his voice low like someone facing a wild animal trying not provoke an attack, but he didn't cower away from the wrath of the other two Alphas at the table.

"All we know for sure is that at 6am, Tobias was transported to the prep cell to prepare for his execution. He put in his request for a final meal, and he asked for a copy of Marc's manifesto. When the guard brought the manifesto at noon, Tobias took it. When the same guard delivered his dinner, the cell door was locked, but Tobias was gone. Not a single alarm was tripped, and so far the security cameras all show static."

"It had to be someone from the inside. An OSF officer or staff," Malcolm's rage burned in the air.

"Before our meeting today, I would have argued that, but I spent the morning investigating the information the Sanctuary guards gave Killian. I can't find a single contact between Sanctuary and the OSF," James paused, "Not a single one. Abby's notes and the copies are gone. Not even the suggestions I entered from your security recommendations are in the system. They've been wiped clean like they never existed. Emily's crew is trying to trace where they went or who erased them."

The sudden silence surrounding the Alphas at the table somehow seemed more menacing than the growls that had cut off abruptly. The dark threat permeating the air made it hard to breathe, and even the soccer absorbed college boys surrounding the TV took notice of the heavy vibe filling the bar. With a scrape of chairs, Killian absently noted how they quickly threw some money down on the bar before heading for the exit. One of them seemed to have more awareness than the others going so far as to turn to walk with his back to the bar keeping their table in his sights before sliding through the door into the night. The TV continued to drone on, and the money sat on the bar as the servers had already abandoned their posts when the first wave of Alpha aggression filled the space.

"So far, the only name they've found so far is Baranov, Sr."

"Baranov?" Malcolm questioned.

"Commander Lev Baranov, Sr. He's been around a long time. Never a field agent, but he rose to rank of commander on the administrative side. He has the clearance to access the records, but there's no motive. At least none that we've been able to uncover. His eldest son, Lev Baranov, Jr. is also OSF, also not a field agent, but he does work in the investigative office... taking incoming calls and tips." James picked at the label on his still intact bottle of beer. "Because of Sr.'s rank, the investigation is being kept hush-hush.

"Missing Omegas, ignored tips about issues at Sanctuary, lack of concern about the threat against Abby, deleted records," Killian mused softly. The other Alphas at the table didn't take his soft tone for a lack of danger, "OSF has at least one traitor, possibly more, in its ranks."

"Mother fucker," Malcolm growled low and long.

Killian had no doubt that his friend felt angry and betrayed by an organization that he'd devoted his life to, but he also knew that much of that was because even now Malcolm's pregnant mate was at OSF headquarters. Malcolm had felt safe leaving her there surrounded by other agents that he trusted, but that trust had just been shattered.

Without another word, Malcolm slammed his bottle onto the table in front them, not caring that the glass cracked and liquid started to seep onto the surface, before he stood up and headed for door. Hitting the portal with such force that the door slammed back into wall causing the window to shatter, Malcolm disappeared into the night a black cloud of fury emanating from him.

At a growl from James, Killian turned his own brooding gaze to Malcolm's commander, "Abby needs to know that Tobias is in the wind."

James's eyes widened slightly, but as Killian wasn't asking permission, he didn't wait before continuing, "I need more access and freedom at Sanctuary."

James' black eyes focused on Killian with unwavering command in them. There was a reason this man was in charge of a group of highly trained Alphas, and Killian knew that Malcolm had nothing but respect for the male.

"I'll take care of it. There's another angle you can check out through your contacts. Baranov's middle son is an up and coming politician here in town. He's running for city council."

"The council is my father's area."

"Yes, but he has another son. He's a fellow commander in Alpha Corps." James continued to pick at the bottle's label.

Killian mentally ran through the names of fellow commanders he knew of before landing on a familiar name, "Rodion Baranov."

"That's the one," James confirmed.

"He's a younger than I am, and he works more in the southern region," Killian mused out loud, "but I seem to recall an exercise where our teams met up."

Killian closed his eyes to focus on the memory from a few years ago, "One of the youngest commanders in recent history, they brought in his team when an ambassador disappeared into cartel held lands. They'd taken the ambassador and his family."

At James' grunt of affirmation, he continued, "They recovered the ambassador and his wife, but the Omega daughter had been sold to the cartel's leader. Riodon's team leveled their compound and retrieved the daughter."

Killian opened his eyes and locked gazes with James, "I remember someone from my command talking to Riodon and reminiscing about growing up together. Riodon hates his family. Hates them. Might be enlightening to find out why."

James set his beer bottle down with a solid thud, knocked his knuckles twice agains the scarred tabletop, and tossed a few bills onto the sticky surface, "We'll figure this out."

Standing from the table, he took a full breath before meeting Killian's gaze again, "My mate and I don't have any family in the area, and the one time I had to leave for an investigation, she gets injured. It was a relief for both of us that Sanctuary was there to provide care and comfort when I couldn't. If something shady is going on, we need to find it and rip it out at the roots."

"I'm going to grant you emergency rights as an OSF officer. It will give you more leeway at Sanctuary. Here's some advice you haven't asked for - if Abby is yours, don't fight it. Omegas are a gift, and whatever you think prevents you from claiming her doesn't matter for shit. Protect, provide, shelter, and love. That's it. It's really that simple."

Killian didn't get a chance to retort as James skirted the table and headed for the door.

Simple.

Nothing about his Omega was simple.