They both stared at her with varying degrees of amazement.
"Who the hell are you again?" Hank demanded.
"I told you. I'm Abby's friend. But I'm also an FBI agent, and when I tell you that you're in trouble, you should believe me. This isn't just about Paul and Todd. It's about Ryker, too. And I believe you could also be a target."
"She's right," Ryker said. "We don't have to like each other to work together. God knows, we managed to do that for quite a few years."
Hank frowned but before he could say anything, one of the clerks from the front desk opened the door and said, "Sorry to interrupt, but your noon appointment is here."
"I'll be right there," Hank said. "Look, I have to get back to work. I can't do this now."
"Can we meet later?" Ryker asked.
"How long are you in town?"
"As long as I need to be."
"You really think something else is going on?"
"I do," Ryker replied.
Hank thought for a moment. "All right. I can meet you at seven tonight. There's a bar down the street—Holstein's. If you want to keep talking, we can do it there."
"Great. We'll meet you then."
They followed Hank out to the lobby. He disappeared into the fitness center while they walked out to the car.
"Hank really doesn't like you," she commented, as she slid into the passenger seat.
"No, he doesn't."
"And the feeling is mutual, right?"
"Probably not as much as it should be." He paused, mixed emotions in his eyes. "Behind Hank's anger, there was pain. I let him down. I let them all down."
"Maybe they let you down, too. It's not like anyone drove down to see you, did they?"
"No, but I made it clear I wasn't up for visitors."
"Well, like I said, it's not really about the past, it's about what's next."
"You did a good job of bashing our heads together," he said with a small smile.
"You're welcome."
"I'm running up quite a tab when it comes to thanking you, Savannah."
"I'm keeping track, too. I intend to collect at some point."
"I hope you will. I don't like to be in anyone's debt." He started the car. "Time to track down Mason."
"Maybe we can get him to meet with you and Hank tonight. It would be good to get the team back together."
"At least, what's left of us," he said heavily.
As Ryker drove out of the parking lot, she pulled up the address for the weapons manufacturing company where Mason worked. It was in Bethesda, Maryland, a suburb of DC and about thirty minutes away. Hopefully, Mason would give Ryker a better reception than Hank had. She'd thought Ryker was their beloved leader, but it seemed like the men were all blaming him for abandoning them. Was it really just that he'd been distant and out of touch since their tragic ambush? Or was there more going on that she didn't understand?
"Who was your best friend on the team?" she asked Ryker.
He raised a brow. "Why do you want to know that?"
"Just curious."
"As to why everyone hates me?"
"Yes."
He gave her a hard look. "Your honesty is not always appreciated."
"And you haven't answered the question."
"I thought I was close to everyone, except Hank."
"Let me ask it a different way," she continued, as he started the car. "What were the personalities on the team? How did it break down?"
"Carlos was the family man with his wife and four kids. He sometimes felt like the dad in the group, always looking out for us. He was the guy everyone talked to when they had a problem. Mason was super smart. He could calculate patterns, measure distance, assess tactical strategies within seconds. He was also the most computer savvy. Leo was a pilot trapped in a ranger uniform. His head was always in the clouds, and his favorite pastime was making airplanes out of whatever paper he could find. But he never found a way to make it into the sky."
"That's too bad."
"Hank was the warrior," he continued. "Hank was aggressive and competitive. If there was a bar fight, he would be in the middle of it. If you needed someone to have your back in that fight, he'd be there, no questions asked. Paul was the one who made everyone laugh and was the biggest talker. He was almost always upbeat and optimistic. Todd was the worrier, the most pessimistic and nervous, but when it was showtime, he usually pulled it together."
"And how did you fit in?"
"I made the tough calls, the critical decisions. I led and they followed. I thought I had their respect. Now, I'm not so sure."
"Was your isolation only because of the bells in your head? Or did you feel like you'd let them down on your last mission? Was it guilt that kept you from getting in touch?"
He didn't answer immediately, and she thought she might have pushed him too hard. Then he said, "You're right, Savannah. There was guilt in the mix. I let the team down. Carlos and Leo died because I didn't realize our intel was bad. I led us into that ambush, Savannah. It's on me."
"Or it's on the bad intel. I worked in intelligence. I know that sometimes leads are bad, sometimes assumptions are wrong. It happens."
"It's still on me. I was the leader."
She thought he was being too hard on himself, but she also understood why he felt the way he did.
"What did your fellow soldiers think of you?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Me? They probably thought I should have shut my mouth more often and followed orders without question. I had a difficult time doing something I didn't believe was right. And I hated not being able to see the investigations all the way through. I was only allowed to gather intel, not act on it. That was frustrating. I might have complained a bit too much."
"I'm sure you still did a good job."
"I tried. But I'm so happy to be doing what I'm doing now."
"It's good that you found your true calling."
"When I left the military, I had no idea what I was going to do, where I was going to land. For the first time in my life, I was making my decisions only for myself. It was scary and thrilling at the same time."
"You like it when it's scary and thrilling."
She smiled at the knowing gleam in his eyes. "You might be right."
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at Spear Enterprises. The military weapons defense company sat on a ten-acre campus with two six-story office buildings and two large barn-like, windowless buildings for production and testing. There was a great deal of security at the front gate, and it took them almost thirty minutes to get from the gate to the lobby of the office building. From there, they were told to wait as Mason was in a meeting.
Ryker seemed too restless to sit, getting up, pacing across the room, thumbing through a magazine, then dropping it on the table and walking toward the window. She could feel his tense energy and hoped that Mason would give them a better reception than Hank had.
As the nearby elevator doors opened, she stiffened as a man walked into the lobby. "Damn!" she murmured. "Why is he here?"
Chapter Fifteen
Savannah couldn't believe her father was at Spear today. He only consulted on a part-time basis. What were the odds that he'd be here now?
Her dad saw her and stopped in surprise. For a split second, she thought he might just walk on by. She could see on his face that he wanted to do just that. But duty made him turn in her direction. She got to her feet as he approached.
"What are you doing here, Savannah?" His gaze moved to Ryker. "And why are you with Stone?"
"We're here to see Mason Wrigley."
"Why? I thought you were in Dobbs, taking care of Abby."
"Did you hear that Todd is dead?"
His lips tightened. "Yes. I can't believe it. I was just speaking to Bill about it. I never thought those boys would take their own lives like that."
"I don't believe either one committed suicide," she said.
"I spoke to Chief Tanner. He's convinced that's exactly what happened."
&n
bsp; "Well, I'm not."
He let out a frustrated breath. "Why do you always need to cause trouble?"
"A better question would be why do I need to get to the truth? And I can answer that question. Because the truth matters. It matters to Abby and to Tyler. It matters to Ryker and the other guys on the team. I would think you, of all people, would understand that."
He stared back at her, a glint of what looked like admiration in his eyes. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
"Fine. You're going to do what you want to do anyway."
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I have meetings this week with the design team."
"This week? You stay here in Bethesda? What about your job at Fort Benning?"
"I've cut that back so that I can spend more time here, developing new weapons that will help our troops."
"And Colonel Vance is involved as well?"
"Yes. He brought me in."
"And then you brought Mason in?"
"I set him up to have a conversation with Vance. They figured out the rest themselves."
"Why didn't Mason ask Vance himself?" Ryker interrupted. "We all worked with Vance in Afghanistan."
"Mason thought my word would carry some weight, and he was desperate. Since his injuries, he'd had difficulty finding a good job. Anyway, it's all working out for everyone involved." He paused. "Are you here to tell Mason about Todd? He already knows. I spoke to him earlier."
"What did he say?" she asked.
"What could he say? He was in shock. He couldn't believe it. Another one of his best friends is dead." His gaze narrowed. "I know you think you're after some hidden truth, but Mason has been struggling a lot, and he has another surgery to go through tomorrow. He doesn't need to get swept up in your crazy theory."
"I'm afraid he doesn't get a choice," she said. "I believe that Mason and Ryker might be in danger, as well as Hank Morgan, the other remaining member of the team."
"You think Paul and Todd were killed?" her father asked, doubt written in every line of his face.
"It's a possibility."
"It's ludicrous. I've always known you have a big imagination, Savannah, but that is a stretch, even for you."
"How would you know anything about my imagination?" she challenged.
"I was there for the early years of your life."
"Well, I'm not imagining anything."
"Savannah, stop," Ryker said sharply.
She looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"You don't have to defend yourself to him. You know what you're doing. That's all that matters." Ryker turned his anger on her father. "And what the hell is wrong with you? Savannah is your daughter. Why do you talk to her like she's your enemy?"
"You don't know anything—" her father began.
"I know enough," Ryker interrupted. "Savannah is smart, insightful, perceptive, and incredibly determined. She's also a loyal friend. The kind of person you want on your side. She is one hell of a woman, and you should be proud of her. Instead of trying to tear her down every time you see her, you should be building her up. You're her father, not her commander, not her boss. Why don't you act like one for a change?"
Her father was bristling with rage by the time Ryker finished, but he seemed to have lost his ability to speak.
She couldn't believe it. The most intimidating person in her life had been rendered speechless. And Ryker had told her father everything she'd always wanted to tell him and more.
"I don't have to listen to this," her father said, stomping away, his back stiff with anger. He blasted through the front door, letting it slam behind him.
Ryker turned to her. "Sorry if I overstepped."
"Are you kidding? I can't believe what you just said."
"I meant every word."
"I so want to kiss you right now."
His eyes darkened. "You probably picked the worst possible time."
"I know. But I owe you one big kiss."
"I'm going to hold you to that." He paused as the elevator opened once more, and Mason rolled toward them in a wheelchair. "But it will have to be later."
Mason gave Ryker an amazed look. "I couldn't believe it when I was told you were here. It's been too long."
"It has," Ryker agreed, leaning over to give him a hug. "My fault, man."
"And mine. I haven't felt much like talking to my old friends."
Savannah was happy to see that Mason didn't appear to be angry with Ryker. In fact, he seemed to understand.
"I know that feeling," Ryker said. "But I do need to speak to you now."
"Sure. We can go to my office after you introduce me to this beautiful woman."
"Savannah Kane," Ryker said.
Surprise ran through Mason's eyes. "You're Colonel Kane's daughter?"
"Yes, I am. It's nice to meet you."
"You, too. What are you doing with this guy?"
"She's helping me figure things out," Ryker answered for her.
"That sounds interesting. I'm getting the idea this isn't just a catch-up visit." His expression went dark. "It's about Todd and Paul, isn't it? I heard what happened. I'm still in shock. It doesn't seem real."
"Unfortunately, it is real," Ryker said. "And we need to discuss what might be going on."
"All right. Follow me."
Mason led them down a long hallway and through an adjoining courtyard, then used his security card to usher them into one of the windowless buildings.
She could smell burning metal and there was a ricochet of sounds that instantly made Ryker wince. She slid her hand into his as they walked behind Mason.
His fingers tightened around hers as they entered a very small office with a desk, computer, and filing cabinet. She quickly closed the door behind them and could feel Ryker's tension ease in the now quiet room.
There was only one chair in front of the desk and Ryker motioned for her to take it. She let go of his hand and sat down.
"This is where I ended up," Mason said, rolling behind the desk. "I review weapons tests and analyze the results."
"That sounds interesting," Ryker commented.
"It would be a lot more interesting to actually use the weapons, but so far the company seems to think my missing leg makes me unable to shoot a gun," he said, a now brittle edge to his voice. "But it's a job, and I make enough to live on. So, there's that. I heard you're a fisherman now. Can't quite picture that. What do you do with all your energy?"
"I don’t have as much energy as I used to."
"I'm right there with you. So, what's on your mind, Ryker?"
"Todd and Paul's deaths could be homicides, not accidents," Ryker said bluntly.
"Whoa. Hold on. I was not expecting you to say that."
"I'm not done. There's a chance someone is targeting our squad. I came to tell you that you might be in danger."
"Why? What would be the reason for that?"
"I have no idea. But someone tried to run me down last night. And after what happened to Todd and Paul, the very suspicious nature of their accidental deaths leads me to believe there's something else at play."
"Do you think it could be tied to our last mission?"
"It's a possibility."
"I've always thought someone sold us out, but I couldn't imagine who. The circle was tight."
"Maybe not tight enough."
"If you hadn't told us to abort, we might have all died," Mason said.
Savannah saw Ryker's face turn to stone and wondered if the bells were coming back. He struggled to draw a breath.
"Are you all right?" Mason asked, echoing the question that was running through her head, but she'd promised Ryker that she wouldn't keep asking him if he was okay.
"Fine," he bit out.
"You should sit down. You look like you're going to fall over," Mason said, his gaze narrowing.
She got out of her chair, but Ryker waved her off.
"I need the restroom," he said.
Mason pulled a
key off a hook by his desk and tossed it to him. "Next door."
Ryker blasted out of the room, letting the door slam behind him.
"What the hell is that about?" Mason asked, concern in his gaze.
"I guess he really has to use the restroom."
Mason didn't believe her. "That's not it. What's wrong with him?"
"That's something only he can tell you."
"But you know."
Mason's demanding gaze met hers, and for a moment, she wondered if he could read her mind. He had an intensity about him that made her feel like a liar, even though she wasn't saying a word. "You would have made a good interrogator," she muttered.
"I've done interrogation. And I am good at it. I'm an expert at finding someone's weakness. What's yours?"
"I don't have one."
"Yes, you do." He paused, giving her a long, thoughtful look. "It's Ryker. You're worried about him."
"He's had a rough time this year."
"All of us have."
"I didn't mean to diminish what you've been through. Ryker would say his issues are nothing compared to yours."
"But they're something. I've wondered why he fell off the face of the earth, but he wouldn't talk to me. He wouldn't talk to anyone."
"He's a proud man."
"And that's his weakness," Mason said, rolling his wheelchair around the desk. "I'm going to check on him."
She was happy to see Mason go after Ryker. After the very cold reception Ryker had gotten from Hank, he could probably use a friend right about now.
As Mason left, she got up and moved around his desk, her gaze sweeping the paperwork with practiced ease. The pages revealed weapon test results from a broad range of weaponry, not much of which made sense to her. There were a lot of numbers, but not much text. There were also inventory and packing lists for upcoming shipments and schematics of a weapon that appeared to be a newer version of the AK-47.
She turned her attention to the file cabinet behind the desk. There were some framed photos on the top of the cabinet. One was of Mason and a little girl about five. She wondered who the child was. She hadn't thought that Mason had any children. Maybe it was his niece. There was also a photo of the squad that was not the one she'd seen at Abby's house. This one had been taken on some base somewhere, and they appeared to be in the middle of a football game. Some of them were shirtless. They were all tan. They looked happy, strong, and eager. Those were the good days when they'd been invincible. Each man had the same look in his eyes: anticipation and excitement. Rangers were born to fight. And these men had done just that, over and over again. But now their battles were far more personal and perhaps even more dangerous.
Critical Doubt Page 15
