by Jodie Bailey
Jessica seemed to hear his thoughts. She took one step forward. “Okay, two dead soldiers who aren’t actually soldiers, and one dead soldier who was being impersonated by one of our wannabes.” She threw out her arms again. “See? Nothing.”
“So we have fake identities. At least two.” Sean straightened and pressed two fingers into his temple. There was that nagging thought again, the one he couldn’t quite grasp and pull out of the swirl.
Sinking to the small bench, Jessica turned her eyes to the sky. “Do you know what it would take to create an entire fake identity for a soldier? What databases you’d have to hack into and how you’d have to build an entire life? You’re talking driver’s licenses, birth certificates, high school transcripts, test scores...not to mention awards, evaluations, schools like basic or airborne. You can hack a lot of things, but it would be next to impossible to create every document necessary to support an entire fake career.”
She had a point. Creating a fake Enlisted Records Brief would be easy, but carefully building every piece to back it up would be time-consuming even for one soldier. For multiple? Hardly worth the trouble. “I’m not sure we’re talking a complete fabrication. After all, somewhere out there is a real, live, walking and talking Andrew Murphy. His next of kin confirmed his existence, even has graduation photos and prom pictures.”
“You hope he’s still alive,” Jessica muttered.
He did. He fervently did. “What if our perps didn’t fake an entire identity, but simply stole one?”
“Even that would be a stretch. You’d have to have the ability to hack into the system and replace all kinds of identifying information, including...” Jessica gasped.
“Photos.” Sean finished the sentence for her. “You’d have to have a way to replace the photos.”
Jessica stood. “The pictures on our fake Channing’s phone were all Department of Defense ID card photos. She was the ringleader.”
“No.” Sean scanned the area around them. “If that’s true, who killed her? I’m going to guess they cut her hands off to avoid easy identification from fingerprints and were hoping she’d decompose or be lost in the river so DNA couldn’t be run. Her real identity must link her back to their leader somehow. As for the real Channing, they clearly wanted to keep her unidentified so that no one would find her and expose the fake.”
“They chose the perfect timing to do it, too. She was young, not in the Army long, coming to a new unit... Nobody would know what she looked like. And if she managed to get a new ID card, no one would question her.” Jessica shook her head. “Very smart.”
Sean studied the windows of the headquarters building. “So they keep the records and switch out photos, get new IDs...that’s a serious hack. And it runs some serious risk.”
“How so?”
“Chances of getting caught are high. If you die, the whole thing unravels quickly. Not to mention, if you get injured...” Sean’s mouth tried to drop right open on him. Everything was starting to make sense. “How did you tell me Murphy died?”
“He stepped on an IED.”
“No. You said he had a reaction to a blood transfusion and his body was too weak to handle it. What kind of reaction?”
Jessica raised her hand and shook her head, seeming even more confused. “No idea. Why?”
“Your fake Murphy was treated based on the real Murphy’s medical records. His dog tags and his uniform would have had the real Murphy’s blood type on them. If his blood type was different...”
“He’d have had an ABO incompatibility reaction. Blood clots. Stroke. Kidney failure.”
“They’d have written it off as mislabeled donor blood.” Their Murphy had died needlessly, playing Russian roulette with his life. “They gambled on nothing happening to themselves, and, if it did, no one caring enough to view the body. Neither Channing nor Murphy had any family to speak of, not close enough to raise questions if the real soldiers went missing.”
“And based on the real Channing’s records, she only had that one distant friend.” Jessica snapped her fingers. “We need to contact her. See if that friend recognizes the photo of our fake or if she has any pictures of the real Channing.” She stepped quickly for her office.
Sean grabbed her bicep. “Slow your roll. Let’s think this through. You don’t know if the friend is in on this. It’s highly unlikely but, for all you know, she’s the one who killed the real Channing. We can’t tip our hand.”
Jessica huffed a sigh. “Okay, so now what?”
“We’ve still got the guy who drove Channing’s getaway car out there. I’m going to guess he’s somewhere close, and unless he’s dead himself, he may be the one who put that body in the river. If he’s in deep enough, he may already have his credentials lined up and be able to move freely on and off the base. I have to get you home. You’re not safe.”
“But what about—”
“You. Safe. First. Then we’ll worry about what’s next.” Sean glanced at his watch. Almost noon. “We’ll get Tate in on this and figure out their endgame.”
Jessica took a step back, dropping Sean’s hands from her arms. “Do you realize what this means?”
Sean nodded, gut twisting in dread. Everything had just gone way above his head. There were dozens...dozens of photos on that phone. And if each one represented an imposter who’d managed to slip into the ranks undetected, who knew what they could be planning. Bombings on outposts, murders of individual soldiers... The end result could be high body counts and a military that fell apart at the seams when brother stopped trusting brother.
The endgame could be the end of their military.
* * *
“What do we do?” Jessica fell into step beside Sean as they walked back toward the headquarters building. This was so big. Too big. At least two fake soldiers had infiltrated her company. If there were dozens of soldiers dispersed across dozens of bases and units... “Without names, we can’t go looking them up. We’d have to have a way to run facial recognition on every single ID in the system. That’s impossible.”
Sean pulled the door open and motioned for her to walk in ahead of him. “We need to press Randall to talk. Last I heard, he was still in the hospital. And we need to find that driver. We have to blow this wide-open—no more keeping the information within the unit. We can’t worry about who’s involved and who knows what we know. The pictures from the emails on that cell phone have to go wide dispersal.”
Jessica looked back at him, squinting against the sun behind his head. “First, we send them to my battalion overseas. It’s possible this hasn’t gone any further.” For the first time, Jessica thought to pray. Please, Lord, stop this in time. They might not know what was happening, but Someone else did.
A chair scraped across the floor and Jessica pulled away from Sean. She’d forgotten Staff Duty sitting at the desk.
Private Meyers came around the desk. “Anything I can do for you?”
Jessica eyed him, trying to remember how much she’d said after Sean opened the door. Hopefully not enough to tip off the young soldier that anything was out of the ordinary. “No, thank you. Just going to link back up with Major Braden.”
Meyers stepped back and dropped into his chair to stare out the door again, probably bored out of his skull.
Sean pressed a hand into Jessica’s lower back, urging her up the hallway. He dropped his voice as they walked. “I’ll call Ethan. He can get us clearance to start searching files, see if Ashley can get into the system and find a way to narrow down our orphans and soldiers without close family. I’m not sure if she can, but it’s a start.”
“The system.” Jessica grabbed his arm as they neared her office. “How did they hack the system?”
“It’s been done before. The bigger question is, why steal the laptops from a battalion? What was the point? It only called attention to the
mselves and gained them nothing.”
“And why hack my desktop?”
Sean stopped walking and snapped his fingers. “That’s it. That’s how we narrow down which units they’ve infiltrated.”
“The laptops.” Jessica breathed in her first deep breath since the major’s call that morning. “We find the units who have reported stolen machines.”
Sean’s pace quickened as he turned toward the company building. “My computer’s in your office and it’s definitely not been hacked. Not this time. We need to get those photos to Major Braden and push them overseas. This time, I’m a step ahead of them. This time, I win.”
The words tore at her. This time, I win. This was Sean’s personal vendetta, his score to settle with the men who’d pushed him to the brink. God, I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. But let him find healing. And keep us all safe. She reached for him, rushing to catch up with him. “Sean. Wait. This isn’t about you.”
He spun back to her, fire in his eyes. “It is.” He jerked away. “This is all about me. They came after me. They came after Ashley because of me. And they came after you because of me. They don’t get to win this round and take you away from me.” He turned and was off again before she could respond.
She wanted to dwell on his words but didn’t, setting off in pursuit again. There was too much at stake for her feelings to get in the way right now. Too many lives could be in danger. “They’ll accelerate whatever their plan is if they know we’ve figured this out.”
“I know. But it will also flush them out into the open. It’s a risk we have to take.” Sean slowed as he stepped through the door into the building, his mouth a grim line. “We aren’t going to keep their secret for them.”
Jessica laid a hand on his arm. If she lost him now because he let the situation drive itself too close to home... “Don’t let this consume you.”
He pulled his hand from her arm, expression darkening. “I’m not. I never have. And you don’t get to express an opinion when you have no idea what you’re talking about.” He turned away and stalked toward the door, back rigid. “Grab my laptop and your things and we’ll go talk to Major Braden. I’ll be in the courtyard.”
Jessica slumped against her desk. She was losing him.
No. He was losing himself. Finding a spot on the map to point toward had shifted Sean into high gear in a dangerous direction. Somehow, that scared her more than the idea of impostors infiltrating the ranks. They had the tools at their disposal to deal with the physical threat. It was possible Sean might not survive the spiritual one.
And she couldn’t be the one to save him. She had no words. She just turned her prayers toward heaven and let her heart cry out.
But not for long. There was too much to do to stand still. She’d have to put feet to her faith and get moving if they were going to stop anyone else from dying. Leaning across her desk, Jessica reached for the jacket slung over the back of her chair, fingers brushing the black fleece.
The explosion drove Jessica flat against the top of the desk, hands flying to cover her head as the windows shattered. Glass fell in a macabre rain against the tile floor. The blast echoed in the room and in her chest, setting off a ringing in her ears that defied description, just like the concussion of an IED.
Of an IED.
Jessica scrambled off the desk, running her hands across her head and down the front of her plaid shirt. No blood. No pain. She was okay. Her breath stuttered back heavily, pulling her chest in and out until she had to fight her reflexes to get rhythm. I’m okay. I’m okay.
But where was Sean? And where was Major Braden?
She bolted for her office door, stopping to listen for footfalls or voices, but the roar in her ears drowned out the whole world. She sensed more than heard the presence beside her and whipped around.
Major Braden and Private Meyers burst through the doors into the company. The major surveyed her. “Are you okay, Staff Sergeant?” His voice sounded as though he spoke through muddy water.
She nodded and swallowed hard, trying to pop her ears, anything to amplify sound. Nothing worked.
Major Braden pointed toward the door. “Meyers, go back to headquarters. Call this in and get emergency here.”
Not waiting to see if he’d issue her an order that would slow her down, Jessica ran up the hallway for the door, heart pounding, heedless of anything that might be happening at the end. She had to know Sean hadn’t been involved in that blast.
Light shifted at the end of the short hall, and Sean rounded the corner, skidding Jessica to a stop. She pressed a hand against her chest to stop her heart from pounding. “You’re okay.” She wanted to throw herself at him, prove to herself he wasn’t a figment of her imagination, but she held herself in check. Even out of uniform, she wasn’t going to cross that line in front of the major.
Sean’s gaze scanned her and said he was thinking the same thing. He looked over her head at Major Braden, who’d stopped behind her. “Sir, that was my vehicle in the parking lot.”
Jessica took a step back, her elbow colliding with the major’s arm. “What?”
“I was in the courtyard, so the building shielded me, but I saw the aftermath.” Sean shook his head. “It was mine.”
Jessica wanted to sink to the floor. What if they hadn’t come back inside? What if they’d gone straight to his vehicle to leave? She held a hand out to Sean, then dropped it to her side. They’d both be dead.
Private Meyers trotted back to them. “Fire and police are on the way.”
Sean turned to Jessica. “Go back to your office and stay there until we can get you somewhere safe.”
“Me?” She bucked. No way was he going to issue her any sort of directive, not now, not with a blast meant for them still ringing in her ears. “I’m not the target here, and you know it.”
“As long as I’m in the picture, both of us are.”
Her jaw drew so tight the pain pounded in her ears. “My office has no windows.”
Sean scanned her from head to foot again, probably trying to reassure himself that she was all in one piece, but then his expression shifted into neutral. “Find a place. A safe place. I’m going out to meet with emergency and find out what’s going on. You fill in Major Braden and get the ball rolling on what we talked about, and then I’ll get you out of here.”
Jessica dug her fingernails into her palm. Sean was right. Even in the chaos, someone had to move forward with pushing that intel overseas. She turned to the major. “If that’s okay with you, I need to grab something from my office, and then we have some things that need to be discussed immediately.” She cast a sideways glance at Private Meyers, unwilling to say more in front of anyone who didn’t need to know.
Major Braden nodded. “Agreed. My office, Dylan.”
Fighting the urge to panic, Jessica headed for her office as he exited the building with the commander. Grabbing Sean’s backpack from its place beside her desk, she stopped frozen as the metal blinds clanked together in the chilled breeze. Around the corner, smoke billowed thick from the parking lot.
She tried to swallow but couldn’t. How close had they come to being nothing but smoke?
She’d never had a panic attack in her entire life, but her pounding heart and the heat of her skin said there was a first time for everything.
A light tap at her door sent her nearly out of her mind. She whipped around ready to fight.
Private Meyers stood in the doorway, in the process of taking a step back from her wild turn. “Um, Staff Sergeant? The major sent me to get you. He’s moved to the conference room.”
At the back of the headquarters building. Tucked away from the chaos. It made sense. Jessica hefted the backpack and let Private Meyers usher her out the door.
SIXTEEN
Smoke billowed over the building
and dissipated into the wind as onlookers gathered on the perimeter of the parking lot. Sean looked back at the corner of the building around which Jessica’s office sat. He couldn’t see her windows from here, but if the blast had knocked them out, it was rougher than he’d thought.
In all his life, Sean had never wanted to touch another person as much as he’d wanted to when he saw Jessica in that hallway. With her office on the corner of the building closest to the parking lot, he’d been horrified at what he might see when he found her.
But there she’d stood, safe and whole. He’d wanted to pull her close and shield her from whatever came next. If their targets were going to be brazen enough to blow up a car on a military post, then what came next might be unthinkable.
Which meant he had to do the unthinkable.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he punched Tate’s number.
“Yeah?” Tate’s groggy voice came through on the second ring. Even asleep, he was vigilant.
Sean wished he could say the same for himself. They’d rigged his car and he’d missed it, the same way he’d missed them sneaking up to the back of the house. Somehow, he’d lost focus again. “Tate. I’m at the company. I need you to come and get Jessica and get her to headquarters.”
“Virginia?” There was a rustle on the line, then Tate’s voice, strong and clear. “What happened?”
“They blew my car.”
“Whoa.”
“She’s not safe here, Tate. This is Mina’s people and they’ve just proven they’ll do whatever it takes to move this thing forward.”
“And to pay you back.”
Sean gripped the phone tighter. That discussion wasn’t up for grabs right now. If Tate decided Sean was in danger, he’d go over his head to Ethan, who’d order Sean back to Virginia right alongside Jessica. He couldn’t risk that. This was their ground zero, and he had to stay and fight. “Jessica’s with Major Braden in his office. They’re disseminating the photos overseas.” He ran down their suspicions to Tate as sirens sounded in the distance. “There’s a back door to the building. Use it. We don’t need your cover blown. Call me when you’re away with her.”