Chapter 5 - THE GENERAL I TRUSTEDMarcus Hale did not react defensively.
That worried me.
An innocent person often protested.
An experienced intelligence officer did not.
He simply looked at the dead satellite phone.
Then at me.
“Who knows we’re here?”
“Your team.”
“Law enforcement.”
“Sterling.”
He nodded.
“Then compartmentalize immediately.”
I studied him.
“You’re not going to ask if I suspect you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you should.”
That was Marcus.
Infuriatingly calm.
He had known me since I was a twenty-four-year-old captain who thought sleep was optional and instructions were suggestions.
He had defended me when older officers questioned whether a woman should command certain operations.
He had promoted me.
Mentored me.
Attended my wedding.
David trusted him.
And now David claimed a general was working for Victor Dane.
Marcus began issuing instructions.
“No electronic copies of the ledger. No cloud systems. Photograph pages only on isolated equipment.”
The detective nodded.
Sterling looked confused.
Marcus continued.
“Every person who knows about the ledger becomes a potential target.”
I said, “Including you.”
“Yes.”
“And me.”
“Especially you.”
He looked toward my stomach.
“Which is why you’re going to a secure medical facility.”
“No.”
“Sarah.”
“No.”
“Your husband has been tortured or restrained for four days. You were physically attacked tonight.”
“Minor contact.”
“You were thrown into a steel safe.”
“Still minor.”
Sterling whispered to the detective, “Do they always talk like this?”
The detective whispered back, “I hope not.”
Marcus ignored them.
“You are emotionally invested.”
“My husband is alive.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m also the only person here with operational knowledge of Dane’s military connections.”
Marcus stared at me.
That was true.
Finally, he said, “You advise. You do not deploy.”
I nodded.
He narrowed his eyes.
“That agreement was too fast.”
“Sir, I am offended.”
“You should be.”
At 1:40 a.m., we began reviewing David’s ledger.
It was handwritten.
Smart.
Harder to hack.
Harder to remotely destroy.
David had documented transfers linked to Victor Dane across California, Virginia, Maryland, Germany, Greece, and Bahrain.
Several companies supplied components to the Department of Defense.
Most transactions appeared legal.
Some were not.
One payment caught my attention.
$4.8 million.
Recipient:
HARBOR STRATEGIC CONSULTING.
I knew the firm.
Owned by retired Lieutenant General Richard Mercer.
My former deputy commander.
A man who currently advised several congressional defense committees.
Marcus saw my expression.
“You know it.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
I told him.
Marcus swore.
Sterling flipped another page.
“There are more payments.”
There were.
Eleven million over four years.
Then another name.
Colonel Peter Lang.
Procurement division.
Currently assigned to the Pentagon.
I sat back.
“This is bigger than Whitmore Holdings.”
Marcus nodded.
“Dane was using the company to move money.”
“And Eleanor?”
Sterling answered.
“She controlled several family trusts after Charles died. That may have given her access to structures David never reviewed.”
I remembered Eleanor’s words.
My son’s fortune belongs to his real family.
Maybe money was not the only thing she feared losing.
Control was.
The detective entered.
“We have preliminary information from Caldwell.”
“Already?”
“He asked for a lawyer, then changed his mind when he learned Dane’s people killed Thomas Rainer.”
I looked up.
“What did he say?”
“David is being held somewhere near the Port of Long Beach.”
My heart jumped.
“Where?”
“He doesn’t know exact location.”
Marcus asked, “How was he communicating?”
“Burner phones.”
“Vehicles?”
“Different every time.”
The detective looked at me.
“He also said Eleanor wasn’t supposed to expose the DNA accusation publicly.”
“Why not?”
“It was supposed to be used privately to force you into signing away estate claims.”
Sterling’s jaw tightened.
“She improvised.”
“Apparently she wanted the humiliation.”
That sounded like Eleanor.
She hadn’t merely wanted me gone.
She wanted the world to watch me fall.
The detective continued.
“Caldwell says Dane became furious when Eleanor turned the funeral into a spectacle because it increased law-enforcement attention.”
“Why did she do it?”
“He claims she believed David was already dead and Dane could protect her.”
I looked toward the room where Eleanor had been transported for questioning.
“She still believes that.”
Sterling nodded.
“Probably.”
At 3:10 a.m., Marcus received a secure call.
He listened.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He ended the call.
“Richard Mercer is gone.”
My skin prickled.
“Gone where?”
“His residence is empty. Phone off. Security system disabled.”
“When was he last seen?”
“Yesterday morning.”
Sterling leaned forward.
“Does that mean he’s the general?”
“Maybe.”
I shook my head.
“Too obvious.”
Marcus looked at me.
“What are you thinking?”
“If David overheard someone say ‘General,’ it may not mean a current general.”
“Retired counts.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
I tapped the ledger.
“Dane’s operation depends on ambiguity. He uses layers. Eleanor thinks she’s protected by Caldwell. Caldwell thinks he works through intermediaries. Mercer may think he’s simply moving consulting money.”
Marcus said, “Or Mercer is running the whole military side.”
“Possible.”
My phone—my original phone, sealed in an evidence bag across the room—suddenly began ringing.
Everyone turned.
The screen showed one name.
Eleanor.
The detective frowned.
“She doesn’t have her phone.”
Sterling stood.
“Then someone spoofed the number.”
Marcus said, “Answer on speaker.”
The detective removed the device carefully.
I answered.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice.
Smooth.
Educated.
“You’ve become inconvenient, General Whitmore.”
Victor Dane.
I had heard recordings.
Never live.
“Release my husband.”
“He’s becoming inconvenient too.”
David’s voice screamed faintly in the background.
Every instinct inside me turned violent.
Dane continued calmly.
“You have something belonging to me.”
“The ledger.”
“And the drives.”
“What do I get?”
“Your husband.”
“Alive.”
“Of course.”
“No injuries beyond what he currently has.”
Dane laughed softly.
“You negotiate as though this is Baghdad.”
“Release him and find out.”
Marcus looked at me sharply.
Dane paused.
“I understand why David married you.”
“Meeting location.”
“Tomorrow. Six p.m.”
“Where?”
“I’ll send instructions.”
“You’re wasting time.”
“No, General. Time is the only weapon I currently possess that you cannot shoot.”
He hung up.
Silence.
Sterling said, “He knows exactly who you are.”
“Yes.”
Marcus looked troubled.
“Which means his source is high enough to access promotion information.”
The secure phone rang next.
Military line.
Marcus answered.
He listened for less than ten seconds.
Then his face hardened.
“What happened?”
He lowered the phone.
“Pentagon security tried to locate Colonel Lang.”
“And?”
“They found him.”
“Where?”
“Dead in his office.”
Sterling swore.
Marcus continued.
“Apparent suicide.”
I looked at him.
“You don’t believe that.”
“No.”
“Neither do I.”
Then the detective’s laptop chimed.
He turned the screen toward us.
A security photograph from Los Angeles International Airport.
Time stamped forty minutes earlier.
Richard Mercer.
Boarding a private aircraft.
Destination filed:
Cabo San Lucas.
But another person walked beside him.
Eleanor Whitmore.
My mother-in-law was supposed to be in police custody.
I stared at the image.
“How did she get out?”
The detective went pale.
“She didn’t.”
Sterling looked from the photograph to him.
“What?”
The detective rushed to the holding room.
We followed.
The officer outside was unconscious.
The door stood open.
Eleanor was gone.
On the chair lay a note.
For Sarah.
My hands stayed steady as I opened it.
You should have left when I gave you the chance.
David chose you over his blood.
Now you’ll lose him twice.
Below the words was a photograph.
A newborn hospital bracelet.
Blank.
Waiting for a name.
My stomach contracted.
Hard.
I grabbed the table.
Marcus stepped forward.
“Sarah?”
Another contraction followed.
Too soon.
Far too soon.
Sterling stared at me.
“Is that—”
“No.”
I breathed through it.
“Stress.”
Marcus was already calling medical support.
I wanted to argue.
Then warmth spread down my leg.
I looked at the floor.
My water had broken.
For the first time all night, Marcus didn’t sound like a general.
He sounded terrified.
“Sarah, you’re going to the hospital.”
I looked at the clock.
Fourteen hours until Victor Dane’s exchange.
My husband was alive.
My mother-in-law had escaped.
May you like
A traitor was inside the military.
And my son had just decided he was entering the war early.
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