Alex nodded and walked back to the coffee maker. She set out mugs and waited for the last drops of coffee to fall into the pot.
“I’m standing here wondering what to say to you.” Alex glanced at him. “How did we go through the hell of SF training together and not know each other at all?”
“You were always with Jesse,” Hank said.
“You were such good friends with Enrique Garcia.” Alex didn’t bother keeping the contempt from her voice.
“Friends?” Hank shook his head. “Did we seem like friends?”
Alex looked at him.
“Yes,” Alex said. “You spent every moment with him.”
She turned back to the coffee.
“You both treated me like crap,” Alex said while she poured the coffee. “You goaded the other guys into abusing me when they could. You stood by when our Captain tried to rape me. Yes, you seemed like best friends.”
She held out the cup to Hank.
“Cream?” Alex asked.
He looked into her face.
“That’s it?” Hank asked. “You stand there telling me of all the ways I’ve hurt you, and your next word is ‘cream’?”
“It was a long time ago,” Alex said. “We were twenty years old. Have some cream. I don’t trust anyone who drinks his coffee black.”
She poured cream in his coffee.
“Chocolate?” Alex asked. “I’ve recently taken up the habit. My partner, Raz, loves a little chocolate in his coffee.”
“Sure, fine, whatever,” Hank said.
Alex smiled. She gave him the coffee and stuck a spoon in it for him to stir. She did the same with her coffee cup.
Using his cane, he limped over to the couch and sat down. Miraculously, he managed to not spill the coffee. Alex turned a chair around from the conference table and sat down. She stirred her coffee so she didn’t have to look at him. They drank coffee in silence.
“I think . . .” Alex started at the same time Hank said, “I wanted to . . .”
“Please,” Alex said. “Ethan says I need to listen to you. I can do that.”
“I’m sorry,” Hank said. “I was under Garcia’s thumb. I don’t know why or even how, really, he . . . took over my life, but he did. He told me a lot later that I was a blond, rich kid who deserved to be taken down a notch.”
Alex gave an indignant snort.
“What?” Hank asked.
“He said something like that to me,” Alex said.
Hank nodded.
“I sat next to Garcia on the bus to Fort Bragg,” Hank said. “I feel stupid saying this, especially to you, but he bullied me. I was terrified of him. I couldn’t fight like you. I didn’t know all the answers. I certainly wasn’t born to it like Mac Clenaghan or a genius like Olivas. I know it sounds like a cop-out, but Garcia took over my life.”
His words were so foreign to her experience at SF training that she watched his face to see if he was fabricating the story. He seemed to be telling the truth.
“Think about it,” Hank said. “Do you ever remember hearing me say anything?”
Alex cocked her head to the side to think.
“Anything? Any word?”
Alex looked at Jesse, who was hovering by the coffee maker.
“I don’t,” Jesse said. “But I still don’t like him.”
“I don’t remember you saying anything,” Alex said.
“You thought that since I was with him, I agreed with him,” Hank said. “And to be completely honest, I did. I didn’t like that you were there. I didn’t like how strong you were, how capable, and how fearless. I . . . Garcia, he . . . I mean, it was subtle. It started on the bus and . . . A few days later, he . . . owned me completely.”
Hank swallowed hard and nodded. Alex blinked. She’d seen the same haunted look in Leena’s eyes.
“Holy crap,” Jesse said. “Is he saying Garcia . . .? At our training?”
Alex gave a small nod.
“What happened when we were in Uwharrie?” Alex asked. After being intentionally lost, deprived of food, water, and sleep, the last test for being a Green Beret is to find your way out of the Uwharrie National Forest. “When you were injured?”
Hank looked at his coffee cup.
“I was with my team,” Alex said. “We got lost. Jesse’s team got lost, too. He found me after we . . .”
“You divined a well,” Hank said. “The amazing Alex.”
He shrugged.
“Always working the angles,” Alex said. “What else did I have? I wanted to be a Green Beret, and . . .”
“I did, too,” Hank said.
“What happened?” Alex asked.
“Your team made it out first,” Hank said.
Alex nodded.
“They blew the horn when you won. My team . . . they . . . blamed me,” Hank said.
“Why?”
“Garcia was on my team, of course,” Hank said. “He turned on me. Destroyed me. He . . . The guys were pissed, anyway. They . . . and I . . . couldn’t defend myself. I tried, but they were too angry, too many.”
Hank nodded. Alex felt a rush of empathy for him. She knew what it was like to face overwhelming violence with the sure certainty that you couldn’t stop it. Jesse made a sound, and Alex’s eyes flicked to him. He looked like he felt as she did.
“They left me,” Hank said. “To die, I guess. Mac Clenaghan’s team passed about a foot from where I was. I tried to signal but . . . They broke my leg, two vertebrae, every bone in both of my hands, and . . . inside . . . I wanted to die. Alex, I wanted to die right there. But I didn’t. Somehow. I was discharged on a medical and sent home.”
Alex nodded. She knew what it was like to be sent home with a severe injury.
“Mac Clenaghan thinks I made the whole thing up,” Hank said. “I . . . uh . . . My dad was a brute like Garcia. I guess I was programmed to just take it. It sounds stupid, even as I say it, but that’s what happened.”
“I understand,” Alex said.
“I’m really good at my job, Alex,” Hank said. “I would have made a great Green Beret.”
“How did you become a . . . uh . . .” Alex wasn’t sure what to call him.
“A soldier for hire?” Hank asked.
Alex blushed.
“My business card says ‘Contractor,’” Hank said.
He smiled. She gave him an embarrassed grin.
“I wasn’t always someone’s . . .” Hank said. “I had a friend from Airborne. He wanted to start this business and asked me if I would join him. I wasn’t doing anything and had a hunk of change from the lawsuit. Turns out, I’m not the first person to be left for dead by his team in Uwharrie National Forest. I put the money in, and . . . that was that.”
Alex nodded.
“I’ve never been in North Korea,” Hank said.
“Why are you telling me this?” Alex asked.
“Because you found the ball cap with my DNA on it,” Hank said. “You saw me with the President’s team in Afghanistan.”
“The boys say you told them to fire at the convoy,” Alex said.
“Not me. It wasn’t me,” Hank said. “No way, and I can prove it. I have records for everywhere I’ve been in the last five years. That assignment was to guard the president. I was with the president. Whoever they talked to, it was not me.”
“And Pakistan for the award ceremony?” Alex asked.
“I was there to protect a diplomat,” Hank said. “The moment I saw your guy — Hutchins, I think his name is — I knew I’d been set up.”
“Why you?” Alex asked.
“You hate me,” Hank said. “Gives you someone to focus on while the person pulling the strings can continue to hide.”
“Who’s behind this?” Alex asked.
“You know about Eniac,” Hank said.
Alex nodded.
“Do you know he’s dead?” Hank asked.
“What?” Alex and Jesse asked at the same time.
“He was killed after he
was unable to execute that computer virus,” Hank said. “You didn’t know?”
“I thought he was behind all of this,” Alex said.
“He did, too,” Hank said.
“How do you know so much?” Alex asked.
“Good question,” Hank said. “I’ve spent a lot of time surveilling you. It was my job off and on for . . . years.”
“Me?” Alex asked. “Why me?”
“It was a job,” Hank said. “Our first contract was to protect the kids of politicians.”
“I thought Trece and White Boy’s team did that,” Alex said.
“Only when the target gets into trouble,” Hank said. “Most of the work goes to contractors. We’re good at it. About a year before your team was killed, I was assigned to watch you. I was requested by name, paid extra because of my seniority. All I had to do was keep tabs on you.”
“Did you send them in to kill us?” Alex asked.
“No,” Hank said. “But I can see by your face that you already know that. Who did?”
“One of those CIA MK-survivors,” Alex said. “Cooper. A teammate’s ex-wife. She was manipulated to let them in. They found out about the vault from the bookstore owner. You know about him?”
Hank nodded.
“My sister, Samantha, was drugged and manipulated into telling a Senator where the vaults were,” Alex said. “The rest fell like dominoes.”
They heard the toilet flush in her little bathroom. They both looked at the door. They turned away when the water turned on for a shower. Hank reached into his pocket.
“This flash drive contains all of my reports on you for the year prior to the assault on the Fey Special Forces Team.” Hank held out a USB drive to her.
Alex was so surprised, she could only gawk at him.
“Including the time you confronted me,” Hank said. “I assume you don’t remember.”
“I don’t remember anything from that time,” Alex said. “And I’m learning that other parts of my memory are also spotty.”
“Too much trauma,” Hank said.
“I guess,” Alex said. “Who ordered you to watch me?”
“At the time, I thought it was your father,” Hank said. “Now, I’m not so sure. I’ve made a few attempts to track payment, but I’ve never been successful at finding out who hired me.”
“Thank you,” Alex said and tucked the drive into her pocket.
The Monk started to sing the Catholic hymn “Immaculate Mary” at the top of his lungs. Alex shook her head and sent Hank a questioning look.
“It’s how he tells time,” Hank said. “That song is exactly six minutes long.”
“Good to know,” Alex said.
“There’s more I need to tell you,” Hank said.
“You’ve already told me a lot,” Alex said.
“There’s a list of people capable of stopping their plans,” Hank said.
“Oh?”
“You’re on the list,” Hank said. “Of course.”
“And the team?” Alex winced at the idea.
Hank nodded.
“JS and a couple of his teams,” Hank said. “Seal Team Eight, and another SF team.”
“How do you know this?” Alex asked.
“I’ve seen the list,” Hank said.
“Where?” Alex asked.
“The last assignment,” Hank said. “With Ethan. We were supposed to be protecting our asset, but everything fell apart. We ended up taking out a few guys. We relieved them of their possessions, of course. One of them had a hit list in an email on his phone.”
“A hit list?” Alex asked.
“That’s what it seemed like to me.” Hank nodded. “Ethan, too. It was in an email chain listing who could stop them. Team in India, of course. The Monk. Ji. You guys. JS . . . Ethan has the phone.”
“Is Garcia involved in this?” Alex asked.
“I think so,” Hank said. “That’s just a feeling. It has all the hallmarks of him. He hates you, me, JS, everyone on that list. But . . .”
“He’s not smart enough to be behind all of it,” Alex said.
“He’d use any excuse to vent his rage,” Hank said.
Alex nodded. There was a tap on the door to her office.
“Sorry, it locks automatically,” Alex said.
She stood up and walked to the door.
“Garcia is evil, Alex,” Hank said. “To the core.”
She turned to look at him.
“He had help getting through SF training,” Hank said.
“Wasn’t me,” Alex said.
There was another knock at the door, and Alex pointed at it. Her hand went instinctively to her handgun. Colonel Howard Gordon was standing on the other side.
“I saw the light . . .” he said. “I thought I’d drop by and see how the trip went.”
“You’re here early, sir,” Alex said.
She stepped aside so that he could come into the office.
“I’m coming home from Washington. Had to attend one of those stupid hearings,” Colonel Gordon said. “Yes, Senator, we are wiping our asses with money. Yes, Senator, we like to use the one-hundred-dollar bills to light our . . .”
He leaned his head forward and took an exaggerated sniff.
“Cigars?” He nodded. “Beer and whiskey.”
“The Monk,” Alex asked. “For the record, I called the Major General, and he told me I could kill him.”
“Kind of messy,” Colonel Gordon said.
Alex smiled.
“Have you met Hank Zutterberg?” Alex asked.
Colonel Gordon raised his eyebrows at her, and she nodded that she and Hank were on good terms.
“Only by reputation. Don’t get up.” Colonel Gordon walked to the couch to shake Hank’s hand. “Nice to meet you. I can tell by my LC’s pinched face that you’re not having an easy go of it this morning.”
“We went to training together,” Alex said.
“Ah,” Colonel Gordon said. “It was the worst of times and the . . .”
“Worst of times,” Alex said along with him. Colonel Gordon laughed. “Would you like a drink?”
“Nah,” Colonel Gordon said. “I need to get home. I had to stay for some moronic Senator’s dinner. I kept thinking, ‘I can’t believe I spent three years in covert intelligence training to sit here listening to this baboon.’ But, dinners with morons come with the bird.”
Colonel Gordon smiled, and Alex laughed.
“How did it go?” Colonel Gordon asked.
“We were able to get Ji and Fong to Yokohama,” Alex said.
“That’s very good news,” Colonel Gordon said.
“Ji was in bad shape when we got there,” Alex said. “He’s been in and out of surgery, so we still don’t know why this happened.”
“He was on the list,” Hank said.
“Really?” Alex asked.
“What list?” Colonel Gordon asked.
Hank opened his mouth to explain, but there was another knock at the door.
“Hold that thought,” Colonel Gordon said. “That’s my ride. I need my wife and the solace of my own bed. You can brief me later. Monday?”
“Of course,” Alex said.
He gave Alex and Hank a nod and went to the door. He lifted his left hand to wave goodbye and opened the door with his right.
“Sorry, sir,” a man said.
There were two silenced handgun shots, and time slowed.
Chapter Twenty-eight
As Colonel Gordon fell to his right, the shooter fired across the office and hit Hank. Alex dove under the conference table and pulled her weapon. Hank rolled off the couch and onto the floor.
“I know you’re in here,” the man said.
Alex heard him move into the room. Jesse wadded up a ball of energy and threw it at him. The man yelped, but kept coming.
“It’s your god-damned office!” the man said.
From her position under the table, she saw that Hank had been shot in the torso but was alive. She
put her fingers to her lips, and he nodded. He gestured to his cane, which she pulled under the table.
Alex tucked her knees under her to ground her. The man fired in her direction, but Jesse shocked him at the same time. He missed. When the man got close, she fired her handgun with her right hand. The weapon bucked on recoil. Her injured arm rebelled. There was a sharp burst of pain from her right shoulder blade. She screamed with pain. Her shot went wild.
“Gotcha,” the man stood over her and fired.
Alex dove to the side and the bullet grazed her left side before hitting a chair. He fired again, but Jesse grabbed the handgun, and the bullet went wild. The shooter dropped to his knees.
“There you are!” the man said.
The Monk erupted from bathroom with an automatic weapon in each hand.
Naked and dripping water, he fired at the shooter from both hands. The shooter jumped behind Alex’s armchair for cover. The naked Monk ducked into the bathroom again. They began a firefight in her office.
Unwilling to risk the handgun again, Alex reached up to the table top with her left hand and found her plastic spoon. She broke the spoon off the end. Jesse gave her a nod.
Weaving back and forth from behind the armchair, the shooter was focused on The Monk. She waited until the shooter weaved in her direction. With her left hand, she threw the plastic projectile as hard as she could. The spoon handle tumbled end over end and, with Jesse’s help, speared the shooter’s left eye.
The shooter screamed, and The Monk flew across the room. He shot twice, and Alex crawled to Hank. He was losing blood fast. She grabbed a quilt from the back of the couch. She used her body weight to press the fabric into his wound. She lifted his body and saw a baseball-sized wound through his ribs.
“I’m okay,” Hank said.
The Monk ran to Colonel Gordon.
Alex grabbed a handful of quilt and pressed it into the hole in Hank’s body. In her trauma-heightened state of awareness, she could feel the pounding feet of people running to their aid.
“He’s alive,” The Monk said of Colonel Gordon. “Oh Mary, please save the Colonel and my brother, Hank.”
“Help is coming!” Alex yelled to The Monk.
Hank grabbed her hand, and she looked down at him.
“I have a family,” Hank said. “A wife, kids, good life, happy, really happy, tell them . . . tell them . . .”
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