Chương 9
“What exactly is on that drive?”
“No idea.”
“Then why label it Kayla?”
“To make sure someone connects it to her.”
“Or to bait us into opening it.”
“Exactly.”
David lowered his voice.
“Tell Chen to assume the sender has surveillance on at least one node in this chain.”
“Already did.”
“Bishop.”
“What?”
“No freelancing.”
“You’ve said that.”
“I’m saying it again.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody out there knows enough about us to contact you within minutes of activation.”
Bishop went quiet.
David continued.
“That number hadn’t been used in nineteen years.”
“I know.”
“Yet someone knew who answered it.”
“I know.”
“And they knew exactly when Vanguard came back online.”
Bishop’s silence deepened.
For the first time that night, David heard uncertainty in his old friend.
Then Bishop said, “There are only seven people who ever knew that activation protocol.”
David stared into the dark glass at the end of the corridor.
“Six.”
“No.”
“Bishop.”
“No.”
The old major’s voice tightened.
“You, me, Ramirez, Chen, Foster, Hale, and Mercer.”
David did not answer.
He had spent nineteen years refusing to say the last name aloud.
Bishop seemed to hear that silence.
“David.”
“Hale is dead.”
“I was at his funeral.”
“Then that leaves Mercer.”
Bishop inhaled.
“That’s impossible.”
David pressed his thumb against the edge of Cole’s business card until the paper bent.
“Nothing about Mercer was ever impossible.”
“You saw the report.”
“I signed the report.”
“You saw the recovery site.”
“I saw what was left of it.”
Bishop’s voice dropped.
“We buried an empty coffin.”
David closed his eyes.
Across the hall, Nora shifted in her sleep and made a small, painful sound.
David opened them again.
“Find out whether Mercer stayed dead.”
Bishop did not respond for several seconds.
When he finally spoke, all humor had disappeared from his voice.
“Commander.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“This time I have to.”
David’s grip tightened around the phone.
Bishop said, “If Elias Mercer is alive, your daughter was never the beginning of this.”
David stayed motionless until the meaning of Bishop’s sentence settled into something he could examine without reacting to it.
“Do not build a conspiracy because one old name makes us uncomfortable.”
“I’m not.”
“You jumped from an anonymous email to Mercer.”
“You did that first.”
David looked through the glass at Nora.
Her breathing remained steady.
“Mercer died in Kunar Province.”
“The report says he did.”
“The report says the vehicle took a direct hit.”
“It did.”
“We recovered blood.”
“We recovered tissue.”
“DNA matched.”
“Partial match.”
David closed his eyes.
“Don’t do this.”
“I’m not resurrecting him because tonight is strange.”
Bishop’s voice became quieter.
“I’m telling you something we both knew and stopped saying.”
“What?”
“We never found enough of Elias Mercer to bury.”
David opened his eyes.
A nurse pushed a medication cart past him and smiled politely.
He returned the smile automatically.
The human body could perform manners while the past rearranged itself.
Bishop continued.
“You signed the casualty confirmation because command needed closure.”
“I signed it because the evidence was sufficient.”
“You signed it because everyone was exhausted.”
David’s jaw tightened.
“That too.”
Neither of them spoke for several seconds.
The operation had happened in a valley David had spent nineteen years refusing to revisit except in dreams.
Vanguard had been tasked with extracting a compromised intelligence asset before a militant network could move him across the border.
Mercer had been driving the rear vehicle.
The explosion came at dawn.
David remembered dust, burning rubber, somebody screaming for a medic, and Bishop trying to drag a twisted door away with both hands after the metal had already become too hot to touch.
He also remembered ordering everyone away because secondary fire was walking toward them from the ridge.
That order had saved four people.
It had also ended the search for Mercer.
David had carried both facts ever since.
“What would Mercer want with Nora?”
Bishop answered immediately.
“If he’s alive, maybe nothing.”
“Then why contact us?”
“Maybe the sender isn’t Mercer.”
“Good.”
“Maybe someone wants us thinking about Mercer.”
“Better.”
“Or maybe this has nothing to do with Vanguard and the sender simply discovered the old protocol.”
David looked down at the black coin inside his open wallet.
“That number was never indexed.”
“No.”
“Never printed outside those coins.”
“No.”
“Never stored electronically.”
“That was the point.”
David closed the wallet.
“Then somebody had physical access to one.”
Bishop went quiet.
David said, “Check the surviving coins.”
“You think one disappeared?”
“I think assumptions are expensive.”
“I still have mine.”
“So do I.”
“Ramirez will have his.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know Ramirez.”
“That’s different.”
Bishop sighed.
“I’ll ask.”
“Ask, don’t search.”
“You really have become boring.”
“Alive is boring.”
“Fair.”
David heard a door open behind him.
Dr. Levin approached with a tablet.
“I have to go.”
“Call me after you hear from Cole.”
David disconnected.
The doctor stopped near Nora’s room.
“We need to talk about the morning.”
David’s stomach tightened.
“What changed?”
“Nothing urgent.”
“That phrase should be banned in hospitals.”
Dr. Levin almost smiled.
“She’s stable.”
David waited.
“We’re planning surgery after the oral and maxillofacial team reviews the imaging.”
“What kind of surgery?”
“Fixation of the fractures.”
“Plates?”
“Likely.”
“Risks?”
The doctor gave him a look that suggested he recognized the pattern.
“You want the full list right now?”
“Yes.”
“Nerve injury, infection, malocclusion, bleeding, issues with healing, anesthesia complications.”
David nodded.
“What are you not saying?”
Dr. Levin shifted the tablet from one hand to the other.
“Her injuries are significant.”
“I know.”
“Recovery will not be quick.”
“How long?”
“Initial healing is measured in weeks.”
“And after that?”
“Function, sensation, dental alignment, pain, nutrition, possibly physical therapy.”
David looked toward Nora.
“She plays clarinet.”
The doctor glanced at him.
“I’m sorry?”
“College ensemble.”
The detail sounded ridiculous after a list of surgical risks.
David said it anyway.
“Will she be able to play again?”
May you like
Dr. Levin did not pretend certainty.
“I don’t know.”
