Trinity: Military War Dog (31 page)
She held up her hands and looked the most repentant Heath had ever seen her. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just …” She hunched her shoulders. “Something is going on out there. There’s more brass here than on the knuckles in LA—and trust me, I know. I’ve lived there.”
Heath couldn’t help but grin. “I bet Christmas presents under the tree killed you.”
She blew her bangs out of her face. “Why? I already knew what they were.”
Heath groaned. “You’re hopeless.”
“Shut up.” The snarl in her words yanked the humor from the conversation.
“Never mind,” Jibril said. “We want to be welcome to come back, so we must all”—he even looked at Heath—“be our best.”
“Yeah, Ghost.” Hogan’s eyes flamed.
He’d said something that shifted their worlds. Whatever it was, he regretted it. Heath closed the instance. “Hey,” he said in a low voice so the others couldn’t hear. “What just happened?”
“Nothing.”
He placed a light touch to her shoulder. “You put my nose to the fire earlier over my headaches. I’m putting yours to the fire now.”
“Just …” Her narrowed eyes snapped to his. “Don’t call me hopeless.” She shrugged away and circled the room. “Where’s Aspen?”
“We don’t know. Two MPs came and asked her to go with them.”
“This is stupid!” Hogan sat cross-legged on the floor, petting Trinity. “It’s like lining up to see the principal. What’d we do?”
“Nothing, as far as we know. Unless your little bathroom diversion created trouble.”
“It gave me information.”
“Like what?”
“Like all the brass I saw—”
“Hey, genius. This is a military base. What’d you expect?”
“Two four-star generals, a few three-stars, and you’re going to tell me that’s normal at a place like this where supposedly all’s well?” Her expression seethed. “Then what about the Chinese man in handcuffs, ferried into a building the brass just entered?”
“Chinese?” Heath asked.
“I overhead an MP say the Chinese guy is the personal aide to China’s minister of defense.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“And the little girl that the Alice chick had with her? She went into absolute hysterics when she saw the Chinese dude.” Vehemence tightened her lips. “So, Hot Snot—am I useless and hopeless?”
“I didn’t call you useless.”
She waved and turned. “Whatever.”
Along with Hogan’s attitude, they had a wad of trouble on the base. Though he hadn’t seen anything that set it off, Heath had sensed an electric hum in the air for a while. Something really big was about to blow wide open.
Twenty-Two
S
itting in a comfortable chair with a Dr Pepper in hand, Alice Ward looked like any high school sweetheart one of the thousands of specialists at Bagram had left at home. But this girl knew something.
“Miss Ward?”
Licking her lips, she straightened. “I need to speak to General Burnett.”
With a soft snort, he lowered himself to the edge of the table in front of her. He tugged on his name patch. “Right here, Miss Ward.”
She deflated. “Finally.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I …” She tucked her chin and sniffled. “I … was so scared … but she …” Alice shook her head. “I can’t …”
“It’s okay. Just take your time.” He slurped his Dr Pepper, determined not to be undone by tears. Give him a tough nut like Darci any day of the week.
Scooting up, she seemed to draw on the last of her courage. “I don’t know how she knew, but she knew. And she was so good and fast.” Her eyes widened as her gaze met his. “Holy cow, that girl was so fast—like she had
skills
.“
He wanted to laugh. “Who?”
“Jia. Jia Kintz.” Animated, Alice related the story of Jia rushing into the camp. “She had this little girl with her, and I was stunned. We all were, in fact. Okay, maybe not the professor. He seemed annoyed, but then again, he was always annoyed. Anyway, she was bleeding—”
“Who was bleeding?”
“Jia. But she wouldn’t slow down to let anyone look at it.” Alice brushed the hair from her face. “She told us all to get packed up. She gave me the girl, and I got her cleaned up and put a warm jacket on her—that’s when I saw all the blood. I realized it was from Jia, so I went to our tent—and there they were. Locked in a gun battle.”
Alarms shrieked through his mind. “Who?”
“Jia and Toque. They both had guns—I have no idea where they got guns. It made no sense.”
“Did he shoot her?” Lance tried to remember what the dossier said about Peter Toque, but it was like trying to find a pea in the dark.
“No. I … I don’t think so.” She covered her mouth. “Wow, I hope not. I mean, he could’ve, I guess. He was up with her. They’d come back to camp together.”
“Where had they been?”
Alice shrugged. “Don’t know. Jia was always going off on her own. She said it helped her clear her mind.”
More like clear an area. She’d been working. As always.
“That’s when the chopper showed up. Everything went crazy from there. Jia sprinted between two tents, and I was so scared I followed her. We went into the tunnels.” She explained how they’d stayed there overnight, trekking and stopping for rests only when necessary, and how Jia had this shoulder wound …
“How did you escape and get down that mountain to the base?”
Once again, tears pooled in her eyes. “Jia.” One loosened itself and streaked down her face. “She said she would distract them, then join us, but …” Hands to her face, she collapsed into tears.
Lance pushed to his feet. He didn’t need the young woman to tell him what happened. Experience, integrity spoke for itself.
Darci sacrificed herself.
He almost couldn’t bring himself to ask the final question. “Do you know if she was alive?”
Face still buried, she shook her head. “I don’t know.” She lifted her tear-streaked face. “I don’t know … I heard shouts and gunshots and screams … and I ran. Ran as fast as I could with the girl.” She shuddered. “I should’ve stayed. Should’ve made sure she was safe, right? I mean, what kind of person does that? Leaves another—”
Lance nodded to Otte who sat beside the woman, a hand on her twittering hands, and reassured her that she’d done the right thing. That it was a smart move.
Stepping into the hall, Lance left behind the somber, smooth voice of Otte trying to coax the woman out of her sodden grief.
One thing was clear: Jia had found something up there. And someone didn’t want her to tell the tale. If she’d had time to alert the team to pack up and get to safety—wait.
The child.
Lance stalked to the preview room where he thrust into it. “Zeferelli.”
The man snapped to attention and saluted.
“Where’s the girl?”
“In interview room—”
“No, the little girl. The Afghan. Get her for me.”
Fifteen minutes later, the lieutenant lumbered back in with the girl and an older Afghan woman. A few minutes of discussion with the older woman and child armed Lance with a nugget of gold. Together, the four of them walked down the hall, the girl clinging to Lance’s hand. Reminded him of his granddaughter back home, a few years younger, and Carrie had blond hair.
They stepped into interview room six.
Badria was a half step behind him. When she swung around to the front, she saw the man hunched at the table and threw herself back. Terror’s greedy claws stabbed her innocent face. She screamed.
Lance nodded to the lieutenant.
Zeferelli lifted the shrieking, crying child and carried her out of the room.
“Explain that to me.” Lance sat back in a folding chair, metal digging into his back. He lifted his ankle and placed it on his knee. Casual and looking comfortable.
Colonel Zheng’s face remained impassive. Implacable.
“Imagine that.” Lance straightened and folded his hands on the table. “A little girl, found in an Afghan village, goes into terror fits when she sees you.” He slid a piece of sugar-free gum into his mouth. “Wonder what that means.”
“That she is a little girl who should not be used as a pawn in games of war.”
“A pawn?” Lance pursed his lips. “I’m not the one who made her a pawn. Someone who murdered everyone in her village made her a pawn.”
Quick as a bolt of lightning, an expression zapped through Haur’s face.
“Now, I wonder—”
Two knocks on the metal door.
The signal. Lance went to the door and opened it.
“Sir,” Otte said. “She’s awake.”
“Ah. Good.” He looked to Zheng, hoping to make the man sweat. “I’ll be right back.”
Door secured, he strode down the hall.
“When you mentioned that village, Zheng’s thermals went through the roof.”
He didn’t need thermals to tell him that story worried Zheng. They both had full knowledge that Wu Jianyu was the devil himself.
And knowing that man was in this area …
Knowing he had a bloodthirsty vengeance against a young woman named Meixiang …
Who was Darci Kintz …
The connections and secrets were as vast as the mountains containing the greatest drama of his life.
It was time for some cooperative effort.
On his knees, eyes closed, Haur trained his mind to quiet.
Two decades.
Thousands of compromises.
Millions of words.
Quiet.
