Chapter 3 - MARCUS WASN’T RANDOMMarcus was sitting in an interview room when I walked in.
His suspension had stripped away some of the arrogance, but not enough.
He leaned back in the metal chair and gave me a humorless smile.
“So now I’m a prisoner?”
“No.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
General Grant remained behind the one-way glass. Colonel Pierce stood beside him.
I had insisted on speaking to Marcus alone.
Grant hated the idea.
I didn’t care.
I placed the photograph on the table.
Marcus looked at it.
Nothing happened.
Then his eyes moved toward the wrist in the corner.
His expression tightened.
Barely.
But I saw it.
“You recognize this?”
“No.”
“Look again.”
“I already did.”
I sat across from him.
“Where were you six weeks ago?”
“Training rotation.”
“Where?”
“Arizona.”
“You sure?”
He smiled.
“Are you interrogating me, Carter?”
“I’m asking.”
“You don’t have authority to interrogate anybody.”
He was right.
Officially.
I leaned closer.
“What’s Hollow Ridge?”
That did it.
Marcus’s right hand curled.
Then relaxed.
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“You’re lying.”
“Prove it.”
I pulled Nathan’s dog tags from my pocket and dropped them onto the table.
The metal struck steel.
Marcus stared at them.
His breathing changed.
Just slightly.
“Where did you get those?”
“So you recognize the name.”
“Everybody knows the Raven story now.”
“No, they don’t.”
He looked at me.
“Apparently I knew enough to ruin your day.”
I should have been angry.
Instead, I became certain.
Marcus wanted me emotional.
Angry people miss details.
Nathan taught me that.
So I sat back.
“You weren’t trying to humiliate me this morning.”
Marcus smiled.
“What else would I have been doing?”
“You were trying to expose the tattoo.”
Silence.
“You needed General Grant to see it.”
His smile disappeared.
“You knew he was touring the training grounds.”
Marcus looked toward the mirrored glass.
I continued.
“You grabbed my injured shoulder because you knew I’d react. Then you tore my uniform exactly when Grant was approaching.”
“That’s insane.”
“Maybe.”
I slid the photograph closer.
“Or maybe someone needed Grant to publicly confirm Raven Nine was alive.”
For the first time, Marcus seemed nervous.
I lowered my voice.
“Who are you working for?”
He laughed.
But it sounded forced.
“You really think this is some conspiracy?”
“I think you’re smart enough to understand what happens if you lie to General Grant during a counterintelligence investigation.”
That landed.
Marcus looked toward the glass again.
“Can I get a lawyer?”
“You can.”
I stood.
“And while you wait, Grant will pull your travel records, bank records, communications, security logs, and every classified access request you’ve made in the last five years.”
Marcus’s face remained still.
“Good luck.”
I reached the door.
“Also your brother.”
That stopped him.
I had guessed.
During the previous month, Marcus mentioned his younger brother twice.
One conversation involved gambling debt.
The other involved a medical loan.
I turned.
“If somebody paid him, investigators will find it.”
Marcus stared at me for several seconds.
Then he whispered, “Sit down.”
I did.
He looked exhausted suddenly.
“I never met Cole.”
“Then explain the photograph.”
“The watch.”
He raised his wrist.
“It isn’t mine.”
“It’s identical.”
“It belonged to my brother.”
My pulse quickened.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Name.”
“Dylan.”
“When did you last speak to him?”
“Seven weeks ago.”
That aligned with the photograph.
“What did he do?”
Marcus rubbed his face.
“Contract security. Overseas sometimes. He never told me much.”
“And the uniform incident?”
Marcus looked ashamed.
“I was paid.”
The admission seemed to shrink him.
“By whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand.”
Colonel Pierce swore behind the glass.
I kept my expression neutral.
“For ripping my blouse?”
“For exposing the tattoo.”
There it was.
“Why?”
“They told me you were pretending to be someone you weren’t.”
“Who told you?”
“Encrypted messages.”
“Did you actually believe that?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
He didn’t answer.
“You knew it could end your career.”
“My brother disappeared.”
I stopped.
“They sent me a picture of Dylan tied to a chair.”
Everything shifted.
Marcus pushed both hands through his hair.
“They said if I exposed your tattoo publicly, he’d go free.”
“And you believed them?”
“What was I supposed to do?”
“You could have gone to command.”
“They said they were watching.”
His voice cracked for the first time.
“They knew my apartment. My mother’s address. They sent a picture of my niece walking into school.”
The man I had hated that morning suddenly looked less like a bully and more like someone drowning.
That didn’t excuse what he did.
But it changed why he had done it.
“Show me the messages.”
“They disappear after I read them.”
“Anything you remember?”
“One phrase.”
“What?”
Marcus swallowed.
“Raven still owes a debt.”
I felt the temperature in the room drop.
Nathan used to say something similar during missions.
Raven pays its debts.
It was a private joke.
Only our team knew it.
“What exactly did they tell you?”
Marcus shut his eyes, reconstructing it.
“Expose Raven Nine before the man with three stars. Make him speak her name. Raven still owes a debt.”
General Grant entered without waiting.
“How did they know my itinerary?”
Marcus shook his head.
“I don’t know, sir.”
Grant looked toward Pierce.
Only a limited number of people had access to his movements.
That meant our problem wasn’t outside the military.
It was inside.
Grant picked up the photograph.
“Your brother’s watch. Why would he be at Hollow Ridge?”
“I don’t know.”
I studied Marcus.
“Was Dylan military?”
“Eight years ago.”
“What unit?”
“Signals intelligence.”
That made everyone stop.
Grant leaned across the table.
“Where?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Fort Meade.”
Grant and Pierce exchanged a look.
Signals.
Intercepts.
Classified communications.
Hollow Ridge had been an intelligence relay station.
“When did he leave?”
Marcus answered.
“After an investigation.”
“What investigation?”
“He was accused of accessing files above his clearance.”
Grant’s eyes narrowed.
“Was he convicted?”
“No. Charges disappeared.”
That was worse.
Cases don’t simply disappear.
Someone makes them disappear.
Grant ordered Pierce to locate Dylan’s personnel file.
Twenty minutes later, we had it.
Most of it was ordinary.
Training.
Evaluations.
Assignments.
Then a six-month gap.
No location.
No supervisor.
No description.
Grant stared at the blank section.
“I’ve seen this formatting.”
I knew what he meant.
Compartmented assignment.
Someone had erased the details from normal records.
Pierce searched deeper.
Eventually, he found a transfer authorization.
Signed seven years earlier.
The authorizing officer was Colonel Arthur Voss.
I knew the name.
Everyone did.
Voss had retired three years earlier after a celebrated career in military intelligence.
He now ran Voss Strategic Solutions, one of the largest private defense consulting firms in the country.
His company had security contracts on multiple installations.
Including ours.
Grant sat slowly.
“Arthur Voss was responsible for the investigation into Raven Team’s compromised coordinates.”
My skin prickled.
“Meaning he investigated himself?”
“We don’t know that.”
“Then say it differently. He had the opportunity.”
Grant nodded reluctantly.
Marcus pointed to the screen.
“There’s more.”
A second authorization appeared.
Dylan Hale had been temporarily assigned to Project Lantern.
I had never heard of it.
Grant clearly had.
His face lost color.
“What?”
He didn’t answer.
“General.”
Grant looked at me.
“Project Lantern controlled remote authentication for classified field communications.”
My heart started pounding.
“Nathan’s access code.”
“Yes.”
“If somebody inside Lantern cloned his credentials…”
“They could have transmitted the extraction coordinates and made it look like Nathan did it.”
Marcus stared at us.
“So my brother knew?”
“Possibly.”
I looked at Nathan’s photograph again.
Dylan’s watch.
Nathan alive.
Hollow Ridge.
Voss.
Pieces were beginning to connect.
Then Marcus’s phone rang.
Everyone froze.
Unknown caller.
Grant gestured for him to answer and put it on speaker.
Marcus did.
“Hello?”
For several seconds, nothing.
Then a man spoke.
“Marcus.”
His face collapsed.
“Dylan?”
A weak laugh came through the speaker.
“Hey, big brother.”
Marcus gripped the phone with both hands.
“Where are you?”
“Listen carefully. I don’t have much time.”
Grant signaled for technicians to trace the call.
Dylan continued.
“I messed up. I thought I could fix it.”
“Fix what?”
“Raven.”
I moved closer.
“Dylan, Nathan Cole is alive?”
Silence.
Then:
“Emily Carter?”
“Yes.”
“You need to run.”
“From who?”
“Everybody who knows about Hollow Ridge.”
“Is Nathan with you?”
A cough.
Then Dylan whispered, “Nathan isn’t the one sending the messages.”
My stomach dropped.
“Then who is?”
A crash came through the phone.
Dylan gasped.
“Dylan?”
“They found me.”
“Who?”
His voice became desperate.
“The man who gave Nathan the order to die.”
The call ended.
Marcus shouted his brother’s name.
The trace technician rushed inside.
“We got a location.”
“Where?” Grant demanded.
The technician turned the screen toward us.
My blood froze.
May you like
The call had originated from inside Fort Carson.
Less than four hundred yards from the room where we were standing.
Related Stories
