by Tl Reeve
“I want assurances,” Franks demanded, finally breaking his silence.
“I don't think you're in any position to request jack shit. Need I remind you what happened?”
“I have a family…a wife, a kid.” Franks eyes darted to Rae's before locking with his.
“I'm aware. But perhaps you should have thought of this before signing up with Barclay.”
Franks leaned forward, resting both elbows on his knees, clenching his head between his hands. “I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know. I would have never taken the job.”
“Yeah, you would have. You need the money,” he said.
Franks blanched. Any color he had, disappeared. “You know?”
“Yup. I had a full dossier on you within minutes of getting to base.”
Realization flashed through Franks' eyes.
“There's more to you guys than meets the eyes.” Franks’ reference to a famous children's cartoon had him and Noah snorting. When he didn't respond, Franks continued. “I need the money, but I don't need the money that bad. Being able to look my wife and child in the eye means more to me than a paycheck.”
As much as he didn't want to, he believed Franks. Everything they had learned on the man pointed to him being a good guy. Factor in Rae's eyewitness report of him attempting to stop the murdering of the villagers moved him up from good man to good, moral man.
“What assurances are you looking for?”
“I want...I mean, I need…shit,” he paused. “I'd like to request my wife and child be protected.”
Franks didn't demand this time, nope. Instead, he asked. “And you feel their lives are in imminent danger?”
“Yes, sir, I do. Barclay won't hesitate to use my family against me, preventing me from speaking the truth.”
His gaze broke from Franks and moved to Noah, who had stood. “On it, boss.” Noah stepped outside to make the call.
“Where is he going?” Rae finally spoke.
“To make arrangements for Franks’ family,” he answered without looking at her. He wanted to observe Franks’ reaction to his news.
“Just like that?” Franks asked.
“Just like that. I swore an oath to help to protect those in need. It's something I believe in and I'll do, no matter what.”
Franks visibly relaxed, leaning back on the couch, letting out a long sigh. “Thank you.”
“Don't thank me yet. Noah hasn't stepped back in to assure me they are safe and en route yet.”
Five minutes later, Noah knocked. “They've been located. ETA three hours.” Noah finally turned to acknowledge Franks. “How sick is she?”
“Very.” He paused for a second, seemingly gathering himself. “They are unable to figure out what's wrong with her. She's running out of time.”
Being Franks was totally unaware of his team’s name, he found his word choice ironic.
Before he could open his mouth, Noah spoke up. “Then we got you at the right time.”
Franks just shook his head. “Doctors tell us she has six to nine months, max. She's dying a slow, torturous death.”
Noah nodded then turned back to him. “Murray's pulling the kid’s medical records. He said it'll take about an hour.”
“You can't give up. If it's okay, I'd like to see her records,” Rae said, drawing his attention from Noah to her. “After you're done reviewing them, of course.”
Even if he reviewed them, it wouldn't matter. He'd have no clue what the hell he was looking at. He was a man of war, strategies, and planning. That was the shit he knew about.
As if Rae suddenly realized it, her gaze swung to Franks. “If you and your wife have no objections.”
He noticed her whole demeanor changed, almost as if she was less guarded and more trusting. Her posture loosened up a bit while her features weren’t pulled as tightly. Perhaps he wouldn't ream Noah's ass for bringing Franks here, after all.
“We'd do anything for our girl, so yeah, you can look at her medical files.”
Noah sat, pulled one of the side tables in front of the couch and placed a video camera down. “If you'd like to meet your family's incoming bird, we should start the questioning.”
Franks moved to the couch while Noah fiddled with the device. Noah would be handling this interview; he'd be observing.
“What about me?” Rae asked.
“Commander will do your interview later,” Noah stated as he hit the green button on the video camera. “Please state your full name for the record.”
“Joseph Adam Franks.”
For the next fifteen minutes, Noah asked Franks questions pertaining to his military background, discharge, and then finally, his responsibilities at Barclay. Asher stood near the couch out of range.
“What is your current position at Barclay?”
“I'm a field medic.”
“Why was the Barclay team in Colombia thirty-six hours ago?”
Franks sat back, his gaze locked on the wall in front of him like he was deep in thought. “It was supposed to be an observation mission only.”
“Yet, they took a medic?” Noah interjected.
“As I'm sure you're aware, team medics go on every mission.” Not true for their team. All members were cross-trained and knew basic medical procedures. Barclay's men, on top of being lazy and greedy, were not well-trained.
“Who was the team lead for this mission?'
“Paul Tinsman.”
“Do you know who owns Barclay?”
Franks brow furrowed in confusion at Noah's question, but he answered anyway. “Jason Barclay.”
“Do you know anything about him?”
“Not much other than he started Barclay after leaving the military. It is the second largest private military and security firm. I thought this was going to be about the mission.”
“It is,” Asher interjected.
Noah glanced at him, then back at Franks. “It is.”
“Listen, I'll be completely honest. I know very little about Barclay. They offered me a good paycheck. One I could use to help care for my daughter. Did I do my due diligence and research what I was getting myself into? I'd say no since I'm sitting here after witnessing my coworkers, ex-military men, who've sworn the same oath I did to protect those who can't protect themselves, murder innocent people.
“I was hired by a headhunter. I was met by a human resource employee my first day, then told to report to their private base. Which I did. This was my third mission with Barclay. I was never assigned with the same team. I thought it was odd, but since medics are hard to come by, I figured they moved us around at will.”
“What do you know about Paul Tinsman?”
“What do I know or what have I heard?” he replied more to the point.
“Both,” Noah responded.
“I know he leads one of the more prolific teams within Barclay and he’s been there the longest.”
For the next hour and a half, Noah asked Franks questions dealing with Barclay, their staffing and structures, and how they ran their operations.
“Can we take a break?”
Noah glanced at him for approval.
“Yeah. Ten minutes.”
Franks headed down the hall toward the bathroom while Noah went out the front door for a smoke.
“Can I ask a question?” Rae whispered.
“Sure. Anything. I'm an open book.” He ignored her snort.
“I thought this interview was supposed to be about what happened in Colombia. Noah only asked one question about his mission and it was weak at best.” She continued to keep her voice low.
He suspected she didn't want Franks to know they were discussing him. Asher had to remember she was a doctor, not military. “He's reeling him in, making him relax and feel safe. When we come back from break, he'll amp up the questions.” A look of confusion passed over her face. “He's lulling him.”
“I thought you trusted him?”
Now he snorted. “I don't trust anyone other than my team and those who w
ork for me. Franks was on the Barclay team. He participated in a mass killing.”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Ask him what he did to help and if he didn’t kill anyone, why? You attract more bees with honey than you do with vinegar.”
“I'm not—”
“Ask him.” She stood before him, pissed off, with her arms crossed. He wondered if she realized how her actions plumped her breasts, giving him a peek of her soft, creamy skin pushing out over the collar of her shirt. His dick took notice. It pulsed against the zipper of his ACUs while pre-cum pooled at the tip. It took every ounce of his self-control not to lean forward and trace her cleavage with his tongue. Last time, it was her stubbornness that turned him on. This time, it was her anger.
Leaning forward, so only inches separated them, he whispered. “You should be aware, both your stubbornness and your anger is adorable. Gets me all hot and bothered.”
Rage, along with a bit of lust, flared in her hazel eyes. She dropped her arms to her sides. Pity since he lost his view. Pink washed over her cheeks at his blunt words, and he wondered if her face would flush the same pretty color when he made her come.
“Want me to go out for another smoke?” Noah leaned against the door jamb.
He never even heard the front door open or Noah step inside. Rae got to his head quicker than tequila, that's for damn sure. “Nah. We're good. Right, Rae?”
“Uhh…yes, we're good.” Her gaze floated around the room, never meeting his or Noah's directly.
“I'm ready,” Franks announced as he walked down the hall. He retook his seat on the couch and glanced between them.
Noah returned to his seat as did Rae. Once the equipment was running to record, Noah began again.
“How many shots did you fire while in Colombia?”
Rae made a little sound as Noah asked him the question they had just been discussing.
“None.”
Noah quirked a brow at how quickly Franks responded. Didn't blame him. Most trained military men would pull their weapon the moment they heard shots fired.
“You sure about that?”
“Yes. I am.”
“Doctor Kenzie mentioned she saw you with your gun out.” Noah dug in deeper.
“You asked me if I fired my weapon, not if I pulled it. I pulled it the moment I heard the first shots fired.”
Noah inclined his head. “At any time, did you try to protect or defend the inhabitants of the village?”
Franks shifted on the couch, dropping his head as he rubbed his hands up and down his pants. Franks had answered every one of Noah's questions almost as soon as Noah had asked him. This one, though, Franks delayed for long moments.
“Not as many as I should've,” he admitted.
“Explain,” Noah continued to probe.
“I helped Dr. Kenzie and a mother with her two children. I shoved them into the back of the clinic. Told them to remain quiet until we left. I wanted to save more, but...” Franks sighed. “I'm no good to my family dead.”
Franks spoke the truth. If Tinsman or any member of his team had caught him helping, they would have executed him on the spot.
“What were the parameters of your mission?” Noah asked.
“To observe. To watch the village and the fields. At least, it’s what I was told.” Franks cleared his throat.
Had he heard or seen something he wasn't supposed to? “Why would you say that?”
“It's pretty damn obvious that wasn't the mission. It was premeditated. We...they…went to Colombia with the intent to massacre that village.”
“Why?” Noah pressed.
Franks leaned forward, digging his palms into his eyes.
“If you know something, now's the time to tell us.”
“I think I might have overheard something I wasn't supposed to. I didn't put it together at the time because our mission was to observe. But after?” Franks shrugged as a lost look came over his face. “I don't understand how I could've been so stupid. To sign up with the guys. All my life, I've done the right, moral thing. How did I become so involved with this? How do I look Sydney or Gabby in the eyes when they land, knowing I was a part of this?”
“You look your family in the eye by bringing those responsible to justice. You can either sit here and wallow in self-pity or you can be the stand-up guy I think you are and work with us. Help us find the bad guys and make them accountable so they never do this shit again.
“You've seem to have forgotten, you're not the bad guy. Barclay and those who fired the shots and had the knowledge of the real mission are. You're just in a fucked-up situation, trying to do what you can to rectify it,” Asher said, stopping Franks’ tirade into his own little pity party. “Tell us what you saw or heard that wasn't right. Even being a medic, you were in the armed services long enough to be observant and pick up shit you know isn't right.”
Franks sighed. Shifting back, his hand resting on his knees, he began to speak. “The night before the mission, I saw a man. A man who didn't belong in a jungle base camp in Colombia.”
“Go on,” Noah prodded when Franks paused.
“He was in a suit. An expensive suit. It didn't fit in my mind because he didn't even have any Kevlar on.” Asher understood exactly what Franks meant. You didn't go into guerilla-infested jungles not protected. “It didn't make sense to me. Why was this man here and why was he at our base camp out in bumfuck nowhere? He argued with Tinsman. Loudly. I could hear them from where I was.”
“What did they argue about?” Noah probed.
“Money. I could hear Tinsman yelling at the suit. Demanding more money. It didn't make sense at the time. But now...” Franks shook his head. “After thinking about it, I believe Tinsman was demanding more money for killing those villagers. I could never hear the suit. It was almost like he intentionally kept his voice down. It was mostly Tinsman. Only once did I hear the suit. He told Tinsman if he followed through, 'the job' would be waiting for him. The conversation went on for about twenty minutes, then the suit scurried off to a waiting helicopter. It was like he had never been there. No one questioned Tinsman as to why a civilian was in our camp. Truth be told, they all blew it off. Like it wasn't the first time.”
“Did you see the suit’s face?” he inquired before Noah could.
“Most of the time, he had his back to me. Like it was deliberate.” Franks shrugged.
“You said most of the time. Did you see who Tinsman argued with, Franks?” Noah demanded.
“He turned at one point and I saw his profile. I recognized him,” he admitted.
The suspense was killing him. It was killing Noah, too. He didn't miss how stiff his sniper’s shoulders appeared, or the intense look of determination on his face. They both knew they had to know who Tinsman argued with. Once they had his name, they could start connecting the dots and find out why all those innocent people were murdered.
“Who was it?” Noah demanded.
“Jesus Christ,” Franks spat as he stood. He paced between the couch and the coffee table. His gaze traveled between Noah and him. “You both realize once I say his name, I'm done. My family is done. I've got nowhere to go and I got a sick little girl. My daughter, my wife, and our son she’s pregnant with are my priority!”
“We’ll protect them and you,” Asher assured him. “We can hide your family. Provide new identities. A new place to live and jobs.”
“Easy for you to say, Commander. Your entire life isn't about to change. My wife’s parents are still alive. They dote on my wife and daughter.”
“You're not this guy, Franks.”
“How the fuck do you know what kind of man I am?” Franks snapped.
“I know exactly the type of man you are.” Asher stood and rested a hand on Franks’ shoulder. He didn't shrug it off like he thought he might. Instead, he slouched, hanging his head in defeat.
Asher got it. Joseph’s priority was his family. Asher could protect his family and once he assured Franks as much, the man would talk. “
Because I'm the same type. I joined the military because I knew it would fit me like a well-worn shoe. I was born to protect, to help those who can't or are unable to help themselves. You joined the military with the realization you could do good. And you did. It's who and what we are to our core. Nothing will ever change it.”
“Fuck!” Franks jerked away. He got the other man's dilemma. Sometimes doing the right thing wasn't always the easiest. It hadn’t only been Franks’ life on the line. It was his entire family.
“Up to now, you've been a good guy placed in a fucked-up situation who has the chance to help us right an injustice. If you don't help us and you walk away—even though you never fired a shot—you're just as responsible as the rest of your team for the murder of one hundred thirty-six people. Don't let those bastards put a black mark on your soul, Franks. It'll eat you alive. I know it will.”
Franks slumped on the couch in front of the video recorder. “The man Paul Tinsman argued with was Senator Lincoln.” Franks' voice didn't waiver.
Asher heard him loud and clear.
Senator Robert Lincoln. Son of a bitch. Lincoln was almost as powerful as his uncle. Almost. Only difference between the two was his uncle had been a respected and trusted advisor of the president. A job Lincoln openly coveted. They'd need more proof than the word of a member of the team who participated in the slaughter of men, women, and children.
“Boss?” Noah pulled him out of his musings.
“Yeah?”
“You have any follow up questions?”
“None I can think of right now.” His gazed locked with Franks. “If something else comes up, we'll talk.”
“We have an incoming bird. It's his family. ETA is fifteen minutes.”
“Go meet them. Get the family checked in, then assign them a house with guards.”
“Got it, boss.” Noah fiddled with the recording and video device before packing everything and standing. “Ready, Franks?”
“I can go with you?” Confusion filled his question.
“Yeah. You and your family will be confined to the base, but you won't be confined to your room or house once it is assigned. Noah will see to it.”