Chapter 8 - THE GENERAL'S WARGeneral Tomas Rainer had spent forty-three years wearing the Valorían uniform.
She didn't.
King Adrian told us the truth inside the chapel while Bell's conspirators were being arrested.
Twenty-five years earlier, Sophia had been living secretly at the Valorían diplomatic estate in Virginia.
She planned to expose Emil Voss.
Before she could, her car went over a bridge during a storm.
The vehicle was recovered.
Her body was inside.
Investigators called it an accident.
Adrian never believed them.
“Where?” I asked.
“Blackwater Bridge.”
Vale pulled up the map.
Twenty-five miles northwest.
Closed to traffic fifteen years ago after a newer bridge was built.
The old road ended near a reservoir.
Perfect place for a trap.
“I'll go.”
Rachel immediately said, “No.”
“I'm not asking.”
“He told you to come alone.”
“Which means I won't.”
Vale nodded.
“Agreed.”
Adrian looked at me.
“Voss may know who killed Sophia.”
“He may have killed her himself.”
“I believed that for years.”
“And now?”
The King stared at Bell being loaded into a vehicle outside.
“Now I wonder.”
So did I.
Bell had been involved far longer than we'd realized.
He knew Rachel's identity.
He knew about Voss.
He had access to security records.
He'd spent months isolating Rachel from me.
Maybe twenty-five years ago he'd isolated Sophia from Adrian too.
“Let's move.”
We reached Blackwater Bridge shortly after midnight.
Rain had started.
Of course it had.
Some nights seemed determined to become cinematic.
The abandoned roadway disappeared into trees.
Concrete barriers blocked vehicles.
I continued on foot with Vale and two operators trailing several hundred yards behind.
Voss wanted me alone.
I wanted him to believe I was.
At the center of the bridge, a figure stood beneath an umbrella.
Emil Voss.
No weapon visible.
I approached.
“You're difficult to keep arrested.”
“Your people underestimate old buildings.”
“So did Bell.”
Voss smiled faintly.
“Is Rachel safe?”
“Yes.”
His shoulders relaxed.
That reaction mattered.
“You care about her.”
“She is my daughter.”
“You kidnapped people at her wedding.”
“I did not kidnap anyone.”
“You threatened them.”
“To expose Adrian.”
“And brought armed operatives.”
“Insurance.”
“You have terrible insurance.”
He laughed once.
Then looked down at the dark reservoir.
“Sophia died here.”
“So Adrian says.”
“Adrian says many things.”
“What do you say?”
Voss removed something from his coat.
I tensed.
A small cassette recorder.
Ancient.
He held it out.
“What is that?”
“Sophia.”
I didn't move.
Voss placed it on the bridge railing.
“She recorded conversations during the final weeks of her life.”
“Why?”
“Because she was afraid.”
“Of you?”
His expression tightened.
“Initially.”
That answer surprised me.
“She discovered my work.”
“Selling weapons technology.”
“I believed Valoria was becoming dependent on foreign governments. I wanted to create independent defense systems.”
“By selling classified technology?”
“By funding development through channels I should not have used.”
“That's a creative description of treason.”
“I was arrogant.”
At least he admitted it.
“Sophia threatened to expose me. We fought. I said terrible things.”
His eyes dropped.
“She left with Rachel.”
“But?”
“Three days later, she contacted me.”
He gestured toward the recorder.
“She said she had discovered something worse.”
“What?”
“Someone inside the palace had been manipulating defense contracts for years.”
“Bell.”
Voss looked at me.
“Bell.”
Rain tapped against the umbrella.
“He framed you?”
“Partly. I was guilty of enough that framing me required little effort.”
“What happened that night?”
“Sophia called Adrian.”
“He didn't answer?”
“Bell intercepted the communication.”
Voss pressed play.
Static.
Then a woman's voice.
Young.
Afraid.
Emil, if you're hearing this, Marcus knows. He knows about Rachel. He knows everything.
My stomach tightened.
The recording continued.
I was wrong about Adrian. Marcus has been moving money through the defense ministry. He used your work to hide it. I have copies.
A noise.
Sophia breathing.
I'm going to the American authorities tonight. If anything happens to me, tell Adrian I'm sorry. Tell him Rachel must never be brought back until Marcus is gone.
The tape clicked off.
I stared at Voss.
“Why didn't you give this to Adrian?”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Twenty-five years ago.”
“What happened?”
“I was arrested before I reached him.”
“By Bell.”
“Yes.”
“And you escaped?”
“Eventually.”
“You could have come forward later.”
Voss laughed without humor.
“As the fugitive traitor accused of murdering my wife?”
Fair point.
I picked up the recorder.
“Why now?”
“Because Bell knows the old evidence exists.”
“The refrigerated case.”
Voss nodded.
“Sophia's blood. Fibers from the vehicle. A second set of fingerprints.”
“Bell's?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
“Whose?”
“His brother.”
I remembered the Bell family.
Marcus's younger brother had served as a diplomatic driver.
Died fifteen years ago.
“So Marcus ordered it.”
“That is what I believe.”
“You don't know.”
“No.”
Voss looked toward the reservoir.
“I spent twenty-five years building revenge around something I could not prove.”
There was exhaustion in his voice now.
For the first time, Emil Voss didn't look like a villain.
He looked like an old man who had let grief consume every useful part of him.
“You could testify.”
He smiled.
“To what? My own crimes?”
“Yes.”
“I would spend the rest of my life in prison.”
“Probably.”
“You make a poor negotiator.”
“I'm not negotiating.”
I stepped closer.
“You want Rachel to know you?”
His face changed.
“More than anything.”
“Then give her something better than another fugitive father.”
Silence.
“Tell the truth.”
He looked at me.
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
“Even Kandahar?”
“Yes.”
He sighed.
“That will not end well for me.”
“No.”
He nodded slowly.
Then headlights appeared at the far end of the bridge.
Voss stiffened.
“That isn't your team.”
I turned.
Three vehicles.
Fast.
Vale's voice exploded in my earpiece.
“Eleanor, move! Unknown vehicles approaching from east side!”
Voss reached inside his coat.
I drew my weapon.
He pulled out a pistol.
Not at me.
Toward the vehicles.
“Bell planned contingencies.”
“Apparently.”
We ran for the concrete barrier.
Gunfire cracked.
Bullets struck the railing.
Vale's team returned fire from the tree line.
Voss dropped beside me.
“You brought backup.”
“I'm disobedient.”
“I remember.”
One vehicle stopped.
Men exited.
Not random mercenaries.
Professional.
Voss looked at them.
“I know those men.”
“Bell's?”
“Valorían military intelligence.”
That changed everything.
The conspiracy ran deeper than the wedding.
Much deeper.
We moved behind cover.
Vale reached us.
“We need extraction.”
Voss grabbed my arm.
“They're not here for me.”
“Who, then?”
He pointed toward my jacket.
My secure phone.
The recorder.
“They're here for Sophia's evidence.”
A grenade rolled across the pavement.
“MOVE!”
We jumped behind the bridge support.
The explosion punched the air.
When my hearing returned, I heard shouting.
Then rotor blades.
A helicopter appeared overhead.
Valorían markings.
For one second, I felt relief.
Then Voss screamed.
“Not ours!”
The helicopter light swept across the bridge.
Vale swore.
Whoever Bell had been working with wasn't finished.
The coup had failed.
Now they were cleaning up witnesses.
Including me.
Including Voss.
And perhaps everyone who knew the truth about Rachel.
My radio crackled.
Alexander's voice.
“Eleanor?”
“How did you get on this channel?”
“I am a prince.”
“Terrible answer.”
“We intercepted military communications.”
“From whom?”
A pause.
Then Alexander said a name.
General Tomas Rainer.
Chief of the Valorían Armed Forces.
One of King Adrian's oldest friends.
And the man who had personally signed my Valorían Star of Courage six years earlier.
Voss heard.
He closed his eyes.
“Of course.”
“What?”
“Bell was never the leader.”
I understood.
The soldiers.
The helicopter.
The access.
Bell handled politics.
Someone else commanded force.
“Rainer.”
Voss nodded.
“He was the one Sophia feared.”
The helicopter turned toward us.
A mounted spotlight locked onto my position.
And through the radio came General Rainer's calm voice.
“Major Carter.”
I stared into the light.
“You have something that belongs to Valoria.”
I held Sophia's recorder beneath my jacket.
“No, General.”
May you like
My finger tightened around my weapon.
“It belongs to Rachel.”
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