Compromised Identity

by Jodie Bailey

  Sean pounded his palm on the desk in Jessica’s office at the company. When the MPs took over the battalion headquarters, he’d cleared his presence with them and moved to his own base of operations. He had to find Jessica, and while the MPs had locked down post as soon as he told them her situation, there was no way they’d stopped Meyers if he was already past the gate.

  And now his chain of command had lost their minds. “I am not going to get on a helicopter and fly back to Virginia. No.” He flicked his finger across the track pad of his laptop and leaned closer to the computer, searching for a clue to where Jessica was. Anything to get him moving closer and not away from her to Virginia.

  Ethan’s voice poured out of the speaker on Sean’s phone, stationed on Jessica’s desk, filling the room with its authority. “Commander’s about to order it.”

  There was no way they could expect him to get on a helicopter and take shelter in a secure location when Jessica was in danger. It violated everything. “Ethan, you can’t expect me to follow that order. When you had Ashley with you and she was in danger, would you have just taken off and left her to whoever they decided could search for her? In that moment when Mitch had her, would you have backed off and turned the reins over to someone else?”

  Tate reached over and laid a hand on Sean’s shoulder, probably trying to reel him in. It had been Tate’s home that was shot up during Ethan and Ashley’s escape from Sam Mina’s men. Tate’s cover that was blown so he had no safe place to land even now, seven months later. Yet here he stood, by Sean’s side, his peace almost palpable.

  Even Tate Walker’s unflappable presence wasn’t helping Sean right now. He was too close to going over the edge. Everything was out of control. Everything. Why couldn’t God let one thing go his way, especially when Jessica’s life was on the line?

  The phone crackled, a sure indication Ethan was on a secure channel. “Listen to my words carefully. The commander is about to order it.”

  Sean froze. Was he saying—?

  “Lose your phone, buddy.” Tate reached over and took the device from Sean’s hand, cutting the call then holding the phone out to Sean. “Kincaid just gave you a heads-up. You can’t follow an order you never receive.”

  “He’s going to get us both called on the carpet for insubordination.” The wry words covered up Sean’s swirling emotions as he shoved his phone into his hip pocket. Jessica was out there somewhere, and he had no idea where. All he could do was stand in her office and stare at the horrific photo, searching for a clue. Sitting still was about to kill him, but running off half-cocked for parts unknown would be worse.

  She’d been in the headquarters building, only feet away when Meyers took her, and Sean hadn’t been fast enough. He’d missed her, and now... She could be anywhere. On post. Off post. On a plane somewhere halfway to the other side of the world. He dug his fingers into his thigh. The clock was ticking and he was out of options. Nowhere to turn. No more control.

  Seems to me you’re relying a whole lot on Sean Turner and not nearly enough on God. Jessica’s words from last night swirled in the chaos of his mind. Last night. Only last night? It felt like weeks ago. If he could pull her close again, he’d listen. He wouldn’t push her away.

  He wouldn’t let her go.

  Lord, I don’t know where she is, but You do. I can’t keep her safe, but You can. There was no flash of knowledge, no sudden vision of Jessica’s whereabouts, but the fringes of peace settled in. Jessica was right. God had rescued him, had saved Ashley, had given him a family... Now he was at the end of himself and could only trust this would all work out.

  “Where is she, Tate?” The words bore an anguish he never let anyone else hear. Ever.

  Tate blew out a loud sigh. “I don’t know. It was fifteen minutes from the time you left her until you figured out she was gone. She could have been gone fourteen of those minutes or two.”

  “He had time to get off post before the MPs locked it down, though.” And that made their search infinitely harder.

  “And you can’t just drive around aimlessly. That’s a waste of energy. As soon as the MPs get the info about his vehicle registration, they’ll put out a BOLO for him. He’s taunting you. He’ll contact you again. Best thing for you to do is pull up your email and wait.”

  It might be the best thing, but it was the last thing Sean wanted. He swiped the track pad again, but his inbox still sat empty, the huge blank space mocking him more than the man who’d taken Jessica ever could. No news. None.

  Flipping back to the picture, he focused on the background, the dark edges. Anything but Jessica’s face and the tension that lodged there.

  His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. “Somebody’s calling.”

  “Your call whether to answer it,” Tate said. “You hear the order and you’re at the airfield on the next helicopter out. No excuses.”

  Sean tapped his thumb on the track pad, then pulled his phone from his pocket. He’d never violated a direct order, and the decision whether to evade now weighed on him. Jessica? Or his integrity?

  But the area code was 931. A Clarksville exchange. He held the phone up to show Tate, then took the call against his better judgment. “Hello?”

  “Staff Sergeant Turner?” The voice was unfamiliar but heavy with authority.

  Had the commander figured out Ethan had tipped him off and had someone else call him? Surely not. “Yes, sir.”

  “This is Dan White. We met the other night at Jessica Dylan’s house.”

  Sean stood. What did Jessica’s neighbor want? He didn’t have time for petty issues. “Yes, sir. Can I help you?”

  “You asked me to call you if I noticed anything down at Jessica Dylan’s house, and I’m going to guess a man pretending to be you qualifies.”

  His heart pounded faster. Something was up. He motioned for Tate to move out and grabbed his laptop. “A man pretending to be me, sir? He’s at Jessica’s?”

  “Jessica’s at the house with a man claiming to be you. And here’s another thing... Her wrists look like she’s gone three rounds with some razor wire. What’s going on, Staff Sergeant?”

  Thank You, Lord. Jessica was at her house. She was still in danger, but he was no longer at the mercy of terrorists. He knew where she was. Sean caught up to Tate as they stepped onto the quad. “Jessica’s house. Now. He’s holding her there. Call the MPs and tell them to let the gate know we’re coming through.”

  “Turner?” Major White grew gruffer.

  “Sir, don’t go back to the house. That man kidnapped Jessica from her battalion. Keep an eye on the place and let me know if they leave, but do not approach. We’re on the way.”

  “Police?”

  If the police roared up with sirens blaring and a hostage negotiator at the ready, Meyers would switch up the plan and kill Jessica immediately. They needed more stealth. An FBI hostage rescue team would take too long. But surely Ethan could call in some favors from his Special Forces buddies. “Call Captain Ethan Kincaid.” He rattled off Ethan’s secure cell number. “Tell him I told you to call and then tell him everything you told me. Tell him to pull in every favor he’s ever been owed. He’ll get bigger guns than the police into place faster than they can.”

  There was a stretch of silence. “How do I know I can trust you, Turner?”

  “Because I need Jessica to be safe.” He couldn’t put it into words, the emotion was too big. But the Major had to hear it.

  “I’m making the call. And don’t do anything stupid, Turner. God’s got a better hold on her than any man ever could.”

  Sean ended the call, the major’s words washing him in a peace that he really shouldn’t be feeling given the situation. He cleared his throat as he slid into Tate’s car. “Guy talks like you do.”

  “Then he’s a genius. Maybe you should listen.”

  Sean
held on to his laptop with his free hand as Tate blew through a yellow light and aimed for Gate 4 at a speed just barely above legal. If Sean had his way, they’d be blowing through town with a police tail trying to catch them. As they edged around angry drivers waiting to leave post through heightened security, he leaned forward as if the extra inches would gain Jessica time.

  Sean leaned across Tate and flashed his ID, getting a wave-through that likely frustrated every driver in line, then tried to settle back into his seat and plan their next move.

  The phone vibrated in his hand once, then stopped. A text. He pulled the device out and wanted to peek at it through hooded lids so he couldn’t see it if the commander had uncharacteristically decided to text an order. They knew where Jessica was. They were too close to saving her for him to pull back now.

  The screen displayed Ashley’s number.

  Meyers is Joel Mina. Sam’s son.

  Sean’s breath caught like a punch to the chest. This wasn’t a simple revenge plot. It was worse. This was personal. Ugly. His core iced over. Sam Mina’s men had nearly destroyed Sean for nothing more than gathering intel on them. If his son had Jessica and was intent on inflicting pain on Sean through her to avenge his father’s imprisonment, even Sean’s worst nightmares couldn’t conjure up what the man would do to destroy them both.

  EIGHTEEN

  The house was milky dark in the midmorning light, the curtains still closed from the night before. The sun shone through the branches of the oak tree in the front yard, casting dancing shadows on the fabric. The rest of the house stood silent and empty with Angie at her parents’ and Tate vanished. Likely, after the car bomb, he was right back where she’d just left, by Sean’s side. She just prayed Joel hadn’t laid any traps for them.

  She prayed they were safe and Ashley had distributed photos out in time to stop whatever Joel’s master plan was. She could almost handle death if it meant others survived. Sacrificing herself for the good of the nation might finally make her father proud. She rolled her eyes. What a thought for such a moment. She must be losing her grip on her sanity.

  Joel shoved her into the entryway and shut the door. He eyed her with calculated intent as he fingered the straps of the gray backpack he’d slung over his shoulder.

  He must have slipped the knife in there when he saw Major White coming. She didn’t even want to think about what else he might have concealed in its depths.

  Now was her moment. She was unfettered, and while his knife wasn’t at the ready, she had one chance to break away and run, to save herself and Sean. She took one step back and judged the distance to the side door.

  He followed her gaze, then shook his head, that hard expression still in his eye. “I get what you’re thinking, but let me assure you of something. Run, and I don’t bother chasing you first.” He looked behind him in the direction of the kids playing football. “They’ll never see me coming.”

  He had her there. Even if she muscled past him and burst out the front door screaming his intent, it would only bring people running into danger. He could still harm someone else before he was taken down. Whatever he had in mind, it was highly likely he wasn’t afraid of dying to make his point.

  Running might not be the answer, but coming at him with her full strength could be. He was taller and broader than her. Did she dare take that chance? If she caught him by surprise, she might be able to take him down, but if she didn’t succeed the first time...

  A chance at taking him to his knees was better than the certainty of being restrained and tortured while she waited for him to kill Sean. The way he’d taunted Sean with that photo of her taken at the battalion, she had no doubt what was coming next. The cold of that knife still lay heavy against her throat, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her try to wipe the sensation away.

  She took a step back, sweeping the small living room for anything that could be used as a weapon. Blankets lay balled at the end of the couch where Sean had slept.

  Where Sean slept. His pistol was always at his side, within easy reach whenever he bunked down for the night. It was close at hand wherever they went...except on post. He had no authorization to carry it on Fort Campbell and she couldn’t remember him stowing it in the rental car this morning, so it had to be in the house somewhere. The problem was, she had no idea where he secured it when he didn’t need it. With his gear scattered around her living room, it couldn’t possibly be far. She just didn’t have any way to search for it.

  No, a full-on physical confrontation was the only chance she had, and she’d have to take it soon, before Joel had her bound again. Until then, she had to keep him talking, keep his mind off his plan and slow him down. “What are you going to do?” There seemed to be some weakness, some anger there. Maybe it would pull his emotions up and dull his edge.

  “Make Sean Turner suffer.” The cold, hard hatred in the words took away every thought of appealing to his reason. Joel had an agenda that went past anything Jessica could talk him down from. This was more than a terror threat. It was a personal vendetta. He jerked his head toward the open dining room at the back of the house and hitched the backpack higher. “Let’s go.”

  Jessica stood defiant. She might not be able to appeal to his sense of reason, but she could play on every other emotion he had. “What’s he ever done to you?”

  His gaze came back to hers, colder than any she’d ever seen. “Because of my father. He was going to turn the tide of this war until Turner and his friends decided a warrior is better off in prison. Now it falls to me, but only after I make Turner and his friends pay.”

  Sean was responsible for Joel’s father being in jail. That could only mean... Jessica’s jaw slackened. His father headed the terror cell Sean had helped bring down when he was in Afghanistan, the one Ashley and her husband had helped bring to justice. What was that name he’d said, the one he’d been convinced would come after him? “You’re Sam Mina’s son.”

  “You know the name?” Joel smiled again, this time with some sort of prideful satisfaction. “So Turner has talked about him. I guess my father and his men made an impression after all.”

  “A very, very little.”

  Joel’s face darkened, and he took two steps closer to her, his fists tensed as if he planned to strike. “Well, it’s about to be very, very big. Turner went into hiding after he was rescued and my father was arrested, but my people and I figured we could flush him or his partner Kincaid out if we played our cards right. And we did. The fact that their secret little military unit sent Turner instead of Kincaid is a bonus I can only be very grateful for.”

  “How?” He was talking. She had to keep it that way.

  “The laptops. Although you figured it out more quickly than I’d planned and forced me to speed up the timeline. By stealing the laptops, I established a puzzle with no answer. I didn’t need them. But by taking them twice, and then letting a little bit of chatter out about the next one, it drew the unit Turner is involved in out into the open.”

  Jessica wanted to sink to the floor in defeat. That was why the laptop thefts had never fit in, why the puzzle pieces didn’t match. Sam Mina’s son was a genius. An unhinged, sociopathic genius.

  “I didn’t even need the back door Specialist Channing opened on your desktop.”

  Channing. “What was her real name?”

  “I have no idea. My part was to run the technology, to create the hack that revealed Turner overseas. My father recruited her and the others and they were already training in military formalities when he was arrested. I just picked up where he left off, leading from the inside. As for your computer, I opened the back door so that Ashley Kincaid would have something to play with, something to focus on while I worked my way back through her open channel. While she was busy on your computer, I was busy on hers.”

  That was the program that Ashley couldn’t ide
ntify on her computer. While they thought they were winning, Joel Mina was tearing them apart.

  Jessica wanted to sink to the floor. Everything they thought they knew, everything they thought was true, was an upside-down lie, a fabrication by a man who’d thought things out six steps ahead of them.

  “I purposely left my signature in that code so she’d know she’s not the best there is, that someone can step in and overwrite everything she’s done.” He straightened his posture. “I developed the hack that let us change up the photos in the ID card database so my people could get new cards.”

  Keep talking. His arrogance was showing, bleeding through, taking his focus off her and laying it on his own accomplishments. If he’d only look away... Jessica tensed her legs, ready to spring the moment he turned his attention away from her.

  He smiled, self-satisfied and smug. “She and Turner thought their little program was untouchable. But it’s not. I have it now. And I can sell it to the highest bidder as soon as we’re all finished here. On the open market, with a few tweaks, that kind of encryption could be—”

  Jessica bent her knees and sprang at him, her shoulder catching Joel in the chest and driving him backward toward the door.

  His feet tangled under him, and he landed with a grunt, half on his back and half propped into the door.

  Scrambling back, Jessica jerked her arm back and threw a solid blow to his jaw, driving his head back hard against the door. Shaking off the pain to her knuckles, she pulled back to throw another punch, but at the farthest point back, Joel threw his arm out, his hand catching the side of her neck and throwing her sideways. He rolled with the momentum, pinning her facedown beneath him.

  Grinding a knee into the small of her back, he bent her arm, jerking her wrist to her neck until her already-injured shoulder threatened to separate. He leaned low, increasing the pressure of his weight on her arm and pulling a whimper from her throat. With his free hand, he pressed her head into the floor, sand and grit digging into her cheek. “I warned you.” His voice was loud against her ear. He eased the pressure slightly.