Chapter 6 - THE BROTHER MY FATHER TRUSTEDMy father wanted to go alone.
Of course he did.
Rear Admiral Thomas Vance had built his identity around the belief that any problem could be solved if he accepted enough responsibility for it.
That habit made him an effective officer.
It made him a difficult father.
And now it was going to get him killed.
“No,” I said.
Dad stared at Brian’s message.
“He asked for me.”
“That’s why you’re not going.”
“He’s my brother.”
“And Preston Vale was Brooke’s friend.”
Dad flinched.
Good.
“Brian knows law enforcement will be looking for him,” I continued. “He isn’t asking you to reminisce.”
“He mentioned your mother.”
“He knows exactly what bait works.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“You don’t understand my brother.”
“No. Apparently neither do you.”
That ended the discussion.
NCIS established surveillance around the house in Chesapeake where Brooke and I grew up.
Brian’s SUV sat outside.
No other cars.
Curtains closed.
Thermal imaging suggested one person inside.
Torres wanted to wait.
Dad did not.
Then Brian called.
Dad answered on speaker.
“Thomas.”
Brian sounded calm.
“Where are you?”
“Nearby.”
“Alone?”
Dad looked at me.
“Yes.”
I didn’t react.
“You always were a terrible liar,” Brian said.
My blood chilled.
He could see us.
Torres immediately began scanning nearby buildings.
Brian continued.
“Elena is with you.”
Dad said nothing.
“Tell her I’m impressed. She always was more capable than you gave her credit for.”
I hated hearing him say that.
“Why did you take Halberd’s money?” Dad asked.
Silence.
Then Brian sighed.
“You saw the ledger.”
“Yes.”
“Come inside.”
“Tell me now.”
“That isn’t how this works.”
Brian hung up.
Torres cursed.
Her team found a camera mounted inside a neighbor’s vacant property aimed toward the road.
Brian had prepared.
Twenty minutes later, tactical officers entered my childhood home.
Brian was gone.
A rear patio door stood open.
Beneath the kitchen table, agents found a tunnel opening into an old storm-access channel.
My father stared at it in disbelief.
“How long has that been there?”
I looked at him.
“Probably since the flood-control work in 2009.”
Brian had supervised renovations after a hurricane damaged the neighborhood.
Of course he knew.
Inside the study, we found what he wanted us to find.
Three cardboard boxes.
Photographs.
Old military files.
Copies of correspondence between my mother and Brian.
At first, the story seemed obvious.
Mom suspected Brian.
She confronted him.
Brian denied everything.
Then the dates changed.
One letter from Mom read:
You told me Meridian was only about procurement fraud. People are dead, Brian.
Another:
If Thomas discovers what you did, it will destroy him.
And finally:
I gave Elena the evidence. She doesn’t know she has it yet.
That made no sense.
The drive had remained in Dad’s safety-deposit box.
Unless Mom originally intended something else.
Torres lifted a photograph from the final box.
It showed my mother standing beside Preston Vale and Brian at a charity event in 2006.
On the back, Mom had written:
First meeting. Brian lied about why Vale wanted Thomas.
Dad sat heavily in my old dining chair.
“My brother sold access to me.”
“Yes,” I said.
“He used my position.”
“Probably.”
“For money?”
“We don’t know.”
Dad laughed without humor.
“It’s always money.”
Not always.
Sometimes it was ego.
Fear.
Leverage.
The need to feel important.
People betrayed countries for the same reasons they betrayed families.
Dad rubbed his forehead.
“I got him his first procurement assignment.”
“You didn’t make him corrupt.”
“I recommended him.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
He looked at me.
“You sound like you’ve said that before.”
I had.
To myself.
For nine years.
I recommended one of our Meridian sources.
That source later disappeared.
For years, I had wondered whether my judgment got him killed.
Guilt was arrogant that way.
It convinced you every tragedy somehow proved your importance.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Brian.
I answered.
“Elena.”
“Uncle Brian.”
“That sounds strange after all this.”
“It sounds accurate.”
He chuckled.
“You got your mother’s instincts.”
“You got her killed?”
Dad stood sharply.
Brian paused.
“No.”
“Did Halberd?”
“No.”
“Cancer did.”
“Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not.”
His voice softened.
“Your mother scared them more than you ever did.”
I hated that he sounded proud.
“You gave Meridian’s location to Vale.”
“Yes.”
The word hit like a physical blow.
My scars began aching though nothing touched them.
Dad stared at the phone.
Brian continued.
“I didn’t know they planned to attack.”
“You gave criminals a classified operational location.”
“I gave them warning that their routes were compromised.”
“You gave them us.”
“Elena—”
“Marcus Bell lost half the hearing in his right ear. Leah Ortega still has nerve damage. David Chen uses a cane. Three contractors died.”
“I know.”
“And you came to my hospital room.”
Brian said nothing.
“You looked at my burned back and asked me whether investigators knew what happened.”
“I needed to know.”
“For yourself.”
“For all of us.”
“No. Don’t put me in your sentence.”
Another pause.
“You always were Caroline’s daughter.”
“Where are you?”
“You’ll find me when I want you to.”
Then he said something that changed the investigation.
“Ask Admiral Rourke who stopped Meridian from continuing.”
My eyes moved to Rourke.
He stood across the room.
His expression did not change.
“Brian—”
The call ended.
Everyone looked at Rourke.
Dad spoke first.
“What does that mean?”
Rourke took a long breath.
Then removed his glasses.
“I recommended Meridian be suspended.”
My chest tightened.
“Why?”
“Because we had an internal compromise.”
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“And you never told me?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
I laughed.
My father lowered his eyes.
It was almost funny.
Every man in my life had apparently loved me by deciding what I wasn’t allowed to know.
“Protect me from what?”
Rourke looked at Dad.
Then back at me.
“From being investigated for treason.”
The room went completely silent.
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Evidence recovered after the attack suggested you were the leak.”
Dad stepped toward Rourke.
“That’s impossible.”
“Yes,” Rourke said. “I knew that.”
“Then why—”
“Because someone planted files under Elena’s credentials.”
My mouth went dry.
Rourke continued.
“If Meridian stayed active, the counterintelligence investigation would have centered on her. I shut down the task force long enough to bury the fabricated trail.”
“You buried evidence?”
“I preserved your career.”
“You let the real traitor walk.”
His face tightened.
“Yes.”
The honesty infuriated me.
Brian had stayed free because powerful people feared scandal.
Vale became rich.
Brooke became useful to him.
And my family spent years living beside the consequences.
Dad looked at Rourke as if seeing an old friend clearly for the first time.
“You should have told us.”
Rourke nodded.
“I know.”
Then Torres’s phone rang.
She listened.
“Where?”
Her expression sharpened.
“We found Brian’s vehicle.”
“Where?” I asked.
She looked at me.
“Naval Station Norfolk.”
Dad stared.
“He can’t get onto the base.”
Torres shook her head.
“Not with his current credentials.”
“Then how?”
She turned the phone toward us.
Security footage showed Brian driving through a restricted gate.
In the passenger seat sat a man wearing an admiral’s uniform.
Admiral Samuel Rourke looked at the image.
May you like
Then at us.
“That uniform belongs to me.”
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