Chương 5
Serrano bent over the open drawer.
“There’s more.”
Behind the bands was a folded sheet of waterproof paper.
He lifted it with gloved fingers.
A list of dates.
Transfer codes.
Initials.
Kane’s signature appeared beside three entries.
One line was newer than the others.
D. MERCER
TRANSFER: C7 > A17-4-6
STATUS: TEMP HOLD
AUTH: M.K.
Jonathan stared.
Claire looked at the workbench.
“Temporary hold.”
Serrano’s gaze shifted toward the ceiling.
The helicopter touched down above them.
Claire understood first.
“This isn’t the destination.”
Jonathan looked at her.
“What?”
“Daniel sent us here because he knew they’d record the transfer through this room.”
Serrano nodded slowly.
“Chain point.”
“Where did he go after this?”
Willis took the paper.
A second transfer code appeared below Daniel’s line.
A17-4-6 > M2.
Bell said, “M2 could be medical.”
Claire’s skin went cold.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
She heard the voice from the white room again.
Don’t make her fight it.
“Where is Medical Two?”
Bell answered.
“Two decks down.”
Claire walked out.
Bell caught her elbow.
She ripped free hard enough to slam him into the doorframe.
Serrano grabbed her before she could strike again.
The corridor went silent.
Claire froze.
Bell held both hands up.
“I wasn’t stopping you.”
She stared at him.
“You grabbed me.”
“You almost went down.”
Her legs were trembling.
The lieutenant with her pistol watched carefully.
Claire stepped away from Bell.
“Sorry.”
This time she sounded sorry.
Bell touched his shoulder.
“I’ve had worse apologies.”
Jonathan said nothing.
That was almost worse.
They moved toward Medical Two at a slower pace.
Bell wrapped Claire’s ankle while she sat on a ladder landing. She allowed it because he did not touch her until telling her exactly where his hands would be.
A shallow cut ran above her boot line.
Nothing catastrophic.
“You need stitches eventually.”
“Eventually sounds good.”
“You also need imaging.”
“No machines.”
“That discussion is going to be irritating.”
“I can be extremely irritating.”
“I noticed.”
While Bell worked, Jonathan stood against the opposite bulkhead.
His medals looked strange here.
Too polished.
Too ceremonial.
Claire watched him turn Daniel’s identification band over inside the evidence bag.
“When did he die?” she asked.
Jonathan looked up.
“When did you think he died?”
“June nineteenth last year.”
“How?”
“Helicopter accident during a classified logistics movement off California.”
“Body?”
His eyes sharpened.
“No.”
Claire nodded.
Jonathan’s voice changed.
“Why did you ask that first?”
“Because they told you he was dead without giving you a body.”
“There was wreckage.”
“His?”
“Aircraft debris matched the tail number.”
“Blood?”
Jonathan looked away.
“I was given a casualty confirmation.”
“By who?”
“Kane brought the packet to me.”
Nobody spoke.
Bell finished the bandage.
Jonathan looked at Serrano.
“I want every record connected to Daniel’s casualty determination preserved. Local copies, paper files, anything not dependent on central network access.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Kane?”
Serrano raised his radio.
“Security teams are looking.”
Claire said, “He wants us to look for him.”
Jonathan frowned.
“Meaning?”
“He had enough time to cut power, lock doors, move Daniel, change access permissions, and label me unstable over the shipwide circuit.”
“You think he planned this.”
“I think he had a plan for me getting out.”
Willis said, “Then why let you reach the flight deck?”
Claire considered it.
“He didn’t.”
“What stopped him?”
A memory surfaced.
Daniel in the corridor.
One hand on the wall.
Blood on his shirt.
Go left.
Claire saying, The ladder is right.
I know. Go left.
An alarm.
Daniel closing a door between them.
“Daniel did.”
She stood.
Medical Two was not listed as a detention area.
It looked like one.
The outer room contained four treatment bays and cabinets of ordinary emergency equipment. Two corpsmen stood near the wall under the supervision of an armed security petty officer.
The security man lowered his weapon when Serrano identified himself.
Jonathan said, “Where is Daniel Mercer?”
One corpsman stared.
The other looked toward an inner door.
That was enough.
Claire moved.
The security petty officer stepped in front of her.
“Ma’am.”
Jonathan said, “Stand aside.”
“Sir, Commander Kane ordered—”
“Commander Kane is under investigation as of this moment.”
The petty officer blinked.
Serrano added, “You can stand aside now or explain later why you prevented a four-star flag officer from examining an unauthorized detention space.”
He moved.
Claire opened the inner door.
Daniel Mercer lay on a hospital bed with one wrist secured to the rail.
For a second Jonathan did not recognize him.
Fourteen months had taken weight from his face and put gray into the dark beard along his jaw. His hair had been cut unevenly. A bruise yellowed one temple. He wore dark blue medical trousers and a gray T-shirt.
He was breathing.
Jonathan made a sound Claire had never heard from a man like him.
Not a word.
Just air leaving his body.
Daniel’s eyes opened.
They were the same gray-blue as his father’s.
He looked past Jonathan.
At Claire.
“You got out.”
She stood in the doorway.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Jonathan moved beside the bed.
“Daniel.”
His son stared at him.
For several seconds nothing happened.
Jonathan reached out.
Daniel flinched.
The admiral stopped.
Something inside Jonathan seemed to collapse without changing his posture.
Daniel swallowed.
“Dad.”
Jonathan’s hand lowered.
“You’re alive.”
“That’s been the problem.”
Claire looked toward the corpsmen.
They were both avoiding everyone’s eyes.
Serrano noticed.
“So who secured him?”
One corpsman spoke.
“Commander Kane’s people.”
“Why?”
“We were told he was a recovered intelligence asset with severe behavioral instability.”
“Did he behave violently?”
“No.”
“Did he threaten anybody?”
“No.”
“Then why the restraint?”
The corpsman looked at the floor.
“Orders.”
Serrano’s voice hardened.
“Whose?”
The younger corpsman said, “Kane.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Jonathan sat beside him.
“How long?”
Daniel did not answer.
“Daniel.”
“Don’t.”
Jonathan went quiet.
Daniel’s fingers moved against the sheet.
Claire recognized the pattern.
One.
Two.
Three.
Pause.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
His eyes opened again.
May you like
“They’ll be wiping the server.”
Serrano leaned closer.
