fishtailing as they did. “Stay down!”
Bending over her grandmother, who curled into Téya’s lap, Téya protected her. Prayed they could get out of here safe. They remained down for several long minutes. “Clear,” Boone said ten minutes later.
Téya turned to her grandmother. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,”
Grossmammi
said, her voice strained.
It’s because of me. Because she knows the truth now
. Téya placed her hands on her grandmother’s. They rode in silence for the next thirty minutes until Boone pulled into a mall parking lot. He eased alongside a Pennsylvania State Trooper’s vehicle.
Téya shifted on the seat. “
Grossmammi
, nobody can know you saw me today. Do you understand?”
Green eyes so like her own stared back. Studied. Tracked down to the tactical vest. The weapon holstered at her right hip.
“I know you don’t understand,” Téya said, the guilt strangling her. “And I’m sorry. But—my life is in danger. The men who took you, want me. Do you understand that?”
Her grandmother nodded.
Téya looked out the heavily tinted windows to Boone talking with the officer. “That trooper is the one who found you—that’s what you must tell anyone who asks.”
Concern—no doubt over having to lie—creased the wrinkled face.
“I’m so sorry I put you in danger, to ask this of you. But it’s very important. For both of us. For David. For everyone in Bleak Pond.”
Grossmammi
patted her hand firmly.
The door swung open. “Time,” Boone said as he held out a hand. “Ready, Mrs. Gerig?”
Annie
Lucketts, Virginia
5 May – 0915 Hours
Annie wasn’t sure which was worse—the immediate aftermath of Misrata or right now. She’d never forget the instant they discovered what
really
happened at their hands. The devastation. The deaths. Trace believed Jessie would crack, and by the evidence spread out before them—the contents of her apartment—he was right. Really, it was a miracle that they hadn’t all lost it.
Even now, bile rose to her throat as images of those bodies—the small, frail bodies burned in her mind’s eye.
“Okay, listen up,” Trace said as he and Boone hauled in several boxes and set them on the operations table. “We all know the mind Jessie had—she was a strategist. An analyst.”
“And an obsessive one at that,” Annie put in as she left the couch she’d been sitting on and joined him.
“Right. So, it’d be no surprise that she disobeyed orders and tried to find out who was behind Misrata. And since she was hit first, I’d wager my career she found something.” Trace’s jaw muscle twitched as he waited for Téya and Nuala to join them.
“How’d she die?” Téya asked, her stony facade thicker than ever.
Trace studied them, and Annie could see his thoughts, could see him working out if that information would be beneficial or diversionary. “Sniper shot.”
Nuala straightened. “So, she died instantly.”
Trace nodded. “If you feel anything that I’m feeling right now, then you’ll want to dig through these boxes. They’re from her apartment. I have to get back to INSCOM for a meeting, but I’ll be back tonight. Let’s find some answers.”
Swallowing, Annie shook off the dread. Going through her friend’s things was as creepy as seeing her body in a casket—which, thank God, they hadn’t done. Jessie would be buried quietly and anonymously—since they were, according to government records, already dead. It grated on her nerves that Jessie and Candi wouldn’t have full rights burials. They’d earned it.
But then again, they’d
earned
the anonymity when they attacked a warehouse full of ammunition. What they didn’t know was on the other side of that warehouse, twenty-two orphans and caretakers were waiting out the night for their new residence.
Awkward silence rang through the operations center as she, Nuala, and Téya pored over the boxes, files, every scrap of paper found in Jessie’s Las Vegas apartment. Things
Bending over her grandmother, who curled into Téya’s lap, Téya protected her. Prayed they could get out of here safe. They remained down for several long minutes. “Clear,” Boone said ten minutes later.
Téya turned to her grandmother. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,”
Grossmammi
said, her voice strained.
It’s because of me. Because she knows the truth now
. Téya placed her hands on her grandmother’s. They rode in silence for the next thirty minutes until Boone pulled into a mall parking lot. He eased alongside a Pennsylvania State Trooper’s vehicle.
Téya shifted on the seat. “
Grossmammi
, nobody can know you saw me today. Do you understand?”
Green eyes so like her own stared back. Studied. Tracked down to the tactical vest. The weapon holstered at her right hip.
“I know you don’t understand,” Téya said, the guilt strangling her. “And I’m sorry. But—my life is in danger. The men who took you, want me. Do you understand that?”
Her grandmother nodded.
Téya looked out the heavily tinted windows to Boone talking with the officer. “That trooper is the one who found you—that’s what you must tell anyone who asks.”
Concern—no doubt over having to lie—creased the wrinkled face.
“I’m so sorry I put you in danger, to ask this of you. But it’s very important. For both of us. For David. For everyone in Bleak Pond.”
Grossmammi
patted her hand firmly.
The door swung open. “Time,” Boone said as he held out a hand. “Ready, Mrs. Gerig?”
Annie
Lucketts, Virginia
5 May – 0915 Hours
Annie wasn’t sure which was worse—the immediate aftermath of Misrata or right now. She’d never forget the instant they discovered what
really
happened at their hands. The devastation. The deaths. Trace believed Jessie would crack, and by the evidence spread out before them—the contents of her apartment—he was right. Really, it was a miracle that they hadn’t all lost it.
Even now, bile rose to her throat as images of those bodies—the small, frail bodies burned in her mind’s eye.
“Okay, listen up,” Trace said as he and Boone hauled in several boxes and set them on the operations table. “We all know the mind Jessie had—she was a strategist. An analyst.”
“And an obsessive one at that,” Annie put in as she left the couch she’d been sitting on and joined him.
“Right. So, it’d be no surprise that she disobeyed orders and tried to find out who was behind Misrata. And since she was hit first, I’d wager my career she found something.” Trace’s jaw muscle twitched as he waited for Téya and Nuala to join them.
“How’d she die?” Téya asked, her stony facade thicker than ever.
Trace studied them, and Annie could see his thoughts, could see him working out if that information would be beneficial or diversionary. “Sniper shot.”
Nuala straightened. “So, she died instantly.”
Trace nodded. “If you feel anything that I’m feeling right now, then you’ll want to dig through these boxes. They’re from her apartment. I have to get back to INSCOM for a meeting, but I’ll be back tonight. Let’s find some answers.”
Swallowing, Annie shook off the dread. Going through her friend’s things was as creepy as seeing her body in a casket—which, thank God, they hadn’t done. Jessie would be buried quietly and anonymously—since they were, according to government records, already dead. It grated on her nerves that Jessie and Candi wouldn’t have full rights burials. They’d earned it.
But then again, they’d
earned
the anonymity when they attacked a warehouse full of ammunition. What they didn’t know was on the other side of that warehouse, twenty-two orphans and caretakers were waiting out the night for their new residence.
Awkward silence rang through the operations center as she, Nuala, and Téya pored over the boxes, files, every scrap of paper found in Jessie’s Las Vegas apartment. Things
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