Chapter 7 - The General's GameColonel Cole didn't slow down.
That was my first clue he had a plan.
The second was the bridge.
A narrow maintenance bridge crossed Mill Creek half a mile ahead. I remembered it from the base maps.
One lane.
Steel guardrails.
Steep drainage embankment on either side.
“You're not going through them,” I said.
“No.”
Cole accelerated.
Kane grabbed the seat.
“Sir, with respect, whatever you're thinking—”
“Everybody seems very respectful right before criticizing me.”
Even Eli laughed at that.
At sixty yards from the first blocking vehicle, Cole slammed the brakes and spun the wheel.
The SUV rotated ninety degrees.
Our doors faced the creek embankment.
“Out!”
We bailed.
Gunfire erupted almost immediately.
Cole's vehicle absorbed the first rounds.
We slid through mud down the embankment.
Kane lost his footing and crashed into me.
I shoved him forward.
“Keep moving.”
“Working on it.”
We reached the creek.
Water to our knees.
Cold.
Fast.
Eli pointed downstream.
“Culvert.”
A concrete storm tunnel opened beneath the road.
We entered.
The darkness swallowed us.
Behind us, flashlights appeared at the creek bank.
Cole whispered, “They'll check this first.”
“They should,” Eli said. “Which is why we're not staying.”
Twenty yards inside, Eli stopped and felt along the wall.
His fingers found a steel maintenance hatch.
Locked.
He pulled a compact tool from his pocket.
Kane stared.
“You carry bolt cutters?”
“I carry solutions.”
The padlock snapped.
Behind the hatch was an access tunnel barely wide enough to crawl through.
We entered one by one.
Ten minutes later, we emerged inside an abandoned pump building beyond Fort Redstone's original perimeter.
Cole looked at Eli.
“How did you know that existed?”
“I studied.”
“For an assault?”
“For survival.”
The distinction mattered.
Eli wasn't trying to destroy Fort Redstone.
He'd been preparing to enter it and escape.
For years, maybe.
Kane leaned against the wall.
“What now?”
“Now,” I said, “we stop reacting.”
Eli looked at me.
“There she is.”
I ignored the remark.
“We have evidence implicating Weller.”
“A recording,” Cole said.
“Which we haven't heard.”
Eli removed the memory card.
“We need isolated equipment.”
Kane pointed toward a dusty office.
“There's an old workstation.”
“No network?”
“Building's been decommissioned.”
We found an ancient desktop in a storage room.
It took five minutes to boot.
Eli inserted the card using an adapter.
One audio file.
Dated April 16, 2009.
He pressed play.
Static.
Then Peter Dalca.
I recognized him immediately.
“Route confirmed. Raven extraction, southern corridor.”
Another voice responded.
Thomas Weller.
Younger.
But unmistakable.
“How many personnel?”
“Eight operators. Additional civilians unknown.”
“Militia knows?”
“They will.”
Colonel Cole closed his eyes.
The recording continued.
Weller said, “This needs to look operational, not political.”
Dalca answered, “Understood.”
Then came the sentence that changed the meaning of Kandar.
Weller: “No American witnesses.”
Kane backed away from the computer.
“My father knew.”
“Yes,” Eli said.
“Why?”
“Money.”
It was rarely more sophisticated.
At the time, Weller had been involved in emergency contracting for security corridors in the region.
Sentinel Praxis's predecessor later received hundreds of millions in reconstruction contracts.
Instability had been profitable.
Dead witnesses had been convenient.
Cole stared at the screen.
“We have enough.”
“No,” Eli said.
“We have a fifteen-year-old audio recording.”
“Twelve.”
“Which defense attorneys will call altered.”
“It has embedded authentication.”
“Maybe.”
I understood his point.
We needed current evidence.
And Weller had just committed crimes attempting to obtain Eli.
“Why hasn't he simply killed us?” Kane asked.
“Because he needs the card,” I said.
Eli nodded.
“He doesn't know whether copies exist.”
“Do they?”
“No.”
Kane stared at him.
“You waited twelve years and made one copy?”
“I survived twelve years by not multiplying liabilities.”
Fair.
Cole looked toward the door.
“We need federal investigators.”
“Who?” Eli asked.
“Army CID.”
“Weller has rank.”
“FBI.”
“Dalca has contracts.”
“Inspector General.”
Eli smiled humorlessly.
“I tried.”
That silenced everyone.
“How many times?” I asked.
“Four.”
“And?”
“One investigator disappeared into reassignment. Two inquiries were closed for insufficient evidence. The fourth person contacted Dalca within six hours.”
Kane looked sick.
“What do you want, then?”
“Exposure.”
Eli turned toward me.
“Public.”
I understood immediately.
“No.”
Cole looked confused.
“Why no?”
“Because dumping classified material publicly could compromise people unrelated to this.”
Eli's expression hardened.
“Still protecting the machine.”
“I'm protecting interpreters and sources who may still be alive.”
“They didn't protect me.”
“And that gives you permission to endanger everyone?”
His jaw clenched.
For several seconds, the old friendship became something sharper.
Kane surprised us.
“She’s right.”
Eli stared at him.
“You've known her two days.”
“Long enough to dump chili on her, nearly get shot with her, and find out my father's apparently a traitor. It's been a productive forty-eight hours.”
Cole actually laughed.
Then the building's exterior light switched on.
We froze.
Nobody had touched it.
A speaker mounted near the ceiling crackled.
General Weller's voice filled the room.
“Mara.”
I looked upward.
Eli swore.
Weller continued.
“I know you can hear me.”
Kane whispered, “How?”
“Building security system,” Cole said.
Weller sounded almost friendly.
“This has gone far enough.”
I walked toward the speaker.
“Funny. I was thinking the same.”
“Elias has spent twelve years manipulating you.”
Eli rolled his eyes.
Weller continued.
“He is psychologically unstable.”
“That may be true,” Eli muttered.
“Quiet.”
Weller said, “He killed two Sentinel employees in Germany.”
Eli didn't react.
I looked at him.
“Did you?”
“They tried to kill me.”
“That wasn't the question.”
“Yes.”
Great.
Weller continued.
“Mara, bring Rourke and the storage device to Building Seven. Nobody else needs to be hurt.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“Because I saved your career after Kandar.”
That caught me.
“What?”
“Your refusal of the withdrawal order should have ended with prison.”
I knew that.
“I made it disappear.”
“Why?”
“Because heroes were useful.”
His honesty disgusted me.
Weller continued.
“You became the story everyone needed. Young female soldier saves forty-one civilians. Congressional medals. Recruitment posters.”
“I refused publicity.”
“Which made you more useful.”
Eli watched me.
I had always thought my classified status protected my privacy.
Maybe it protected them.
Weller said, “You and I benefited from the same lie.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You sold our route.”
Silence.
Only a second.
But enough.
Weller's next words were colder.
“Elias has filled your head with nonsense.”
“He has the recording.”
Another pause.
Longer.
There.
Confirmation.
Eli smiled.
Weller knew exactly which recording.
I looked at Cole.
He understood too.
I raised my voice.
“What recording, General?”
No answer.
“You said he was unstable. I didn't describe the evidence.”
Silence.
Then the speaker clicked off.
Kane grinned.
“He screwed up.”
“Yes.”
But not enough.
I looked at the computer.
“We need him admitting it.”
Cole frowned.
“He won't.”
“He almost did.”
Eli understood first.
“No.”
I turned toward him.
“Yes.”
“You want to use the card as bait.”
“Yes.”
“And yourself.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Interesting.
The man who blamed me for abandoning him was now objecting to me risking myself.
“Eli.”
“No.”
“Nobody else can make Weller talk.”
“I can.”
“He'll shoot you.”
“He might shoot you too.”
“He needs me emotionally.”
Kane blinked.
“That sounded strange.”
“It means Weller thinks he understands me. He thinks I'm still the twenty-two-year-old soldier he helped turn into a hero.”
Cole nodded slowly.
“So let him believe it.”
Exactly.
We created the plan in nine minutes.
Kane would contact Captain Shaw.
I objected.
Kane explained why.
“Shaw's ambitious, arrogant, and a bully.”
“Strong endorsement.”
“But he isn't suicidal. If Weller is running an assassination operation, Shaw is in over his head.”
Cole agreed.
“Weller may have told him this was counterintelligence.”
Kane sent one message.
I know where Vance is. Want to fix this?
Shaw answered in eleven seconds.
CALL ME.
Kane smiled.
“Got him.”
An hour later, Captain Shaw arrived alone.
He entered the pump building with both hands raised.
The first thing he said was, “I didn't know Weller was trying to kill anybody.”
“Comforting,” I said.
His face reddened.
“I thought this was a security breach.”
“And tracking me?”
“Weller ordered it.”
“Buried complaints?”
That hit differently.
He looked down.
“That was me.”
“At least you admit something.”
Kane stepped toward him.
“You used me.”
Shaw looked at him.
“I used everyone.”
Not an apology.
But true.
I explained the plan.
Shaw hated it.
Then I told him the alternative was explaining to federal investigators why his access credentials appeared on Weller's surveillance network.
He liked the plan more.
At 3:12 a.m., we called Weller.
I told him I would trade Eli and the original recording in exchange for immunity.
Weller believed me.
Not because I was convincing.
Because corrupt people often assume everyone eventually becomes transactional.
The meeting would take place at dawn inside Hangar Four.
We had three hours.
At 5:51, I entered alone.
Weller stood beneath the wing of a transport helicopter.
Peter Dalca was beside him.
Twelve years had aged Peter gently.
Expensive suit.
Silver hair.
Same blue eyes as Kane.
He smiled when he saw me.
“Mara.”
My skin crawled.
Weller extended a hand.
“The card.”
I held it up.
“First I want the truth.”
Dalca laughed.
“You always were sentimental.”
“What did you get for Kandar?”
His smile disappeared.
“Enough.”
“Money?”
“Opportunity.”
“You murdered Mason.”
“Militia murdered Mason.”
“You gave them his route.”
“History is full of technical distinctions.”
I wanted to hit him.
Instead I said, “And Eli?”
Weller answered.
“A complication.”
“You ordered Sentinel to take him.”
Dalca glanced toward Weller.
That was enough to tell me who had authority.
Weller stepped closer.
“The card.”
“Why was I allowed to live?”
He smiled.
“Because you became useful.”
There it was.
I pushed.
“Useful how?”
“Forty-one rescued civilians created a hero story. Hero stories protect institutions.”
“And Eli would have destroyed it?”
“Eli had proof of unauthorized contracting, payments, operations.”
“So you left him.”
“We contained a threat.”
Behind my belt buckle, a micro-transmitter sent every word to the equipment van outside.
At least I hoped it did.
Weller extended his hand.
“Now.”
I gave him the memory card.
He examined it.
Dalca asked, “Copies?”
“No.”
Weller smiled.
“Good.”
Then he drew a pistol.
I wasn't surprised.
“You promised immunity.”
“I lied.”
Behind him, Dalca frowned.
“Thomas.”
Weller pointed the pistol at my chest.
“You became a problem twice in one lifetime, Mara.”
A voice echoed from the hangar entrance.
“Put it down.”
Kane.
Dalca spun.
His face collapsed.
“Travis?”
Kane held a rifle.
His hands were shaking.
“Dad.”
May you like
For the first time, Peter Dalca looked afraid.
And that was when everything began to unravel.
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