The Athena File

by Jennifer Haynie

  As he lowered the last lid, a door shut upstairs. A female voice laughed at something a man said.

  Nicole. Roy was with her. The Skype session must have finished early.

  Sweat broke out on Jonathan’s palms. He reached up and pulled the cord, sending the room into darkness, and pressed himself against the stairs.

  “Let me get my jacket. Then we can go shoot some pool.”

  She crossed above Jonathan, her footfalls knocking loose some dust that sifted onto his head. Her steps echoed through the thin wood of the basement door as she headed toward her room.

  He couldn’t make a run for it—not with the open floor plan of the downstairs. He had to wait. Getting caught would not be good, not good at all. Nicole was smart, and it wouldn’t take her long to figure out what he’d discovered. Scarcely breathing, he remained still. Seconds ticked by.

  More footsteps overhead. “I’m ready to go.”

  “You are hot.” Roy chuckled deep in his throat. “Tonight, baby, you’re mine.”

  “Ooh, I like the sound of that.” She giggled. A door shut.

  Jonathan waited another precious few minutes. He crept to the top of the stairs and listened. Nothing. Darkness now filled the house. He stole toward the back porch. Keeping in the shadows, he darted to his room.

  After closing the the blinds, he settled behind his laptop and inserted the drive into a USB port.

  “Yo, you’re back.” Jeb’s voice sent adrenaline rocketing through his system. He jumped and slammed the lid of the laptop shut. His friend had arrived without his even noticing.

  “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, man. You must have been concentrating.”

  “Something like that.” Jonathan tried to smile as he took the Styrofoam container.

  Jeb pulled a bottle from his jacket. “Thought you’d like a beer, too. Fresh from the fridge, so it’s not too warm.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “Take it easy. See ya tomorrow?”

  “You bet.” The smile felt like it’d fall off his face. Once Jeb had gone, he popped the top on the Corona and settled at his desk. He opened the directory for the jump drive. It held three icons, two folders and one file. He began clicking on files in the folders called Ops and AARs. “What on earth?”

  The folders held all of the operational plans and after-action reports of the missions run by the Mighty Men during their time in Afghanistan. He rubbed his chin. Why would they have these? And why would they need them? He drew a blank and turned his attention to the file entitled Athena. It was a PDF. Huh? He clicked on it. The words Top Secret Need to Know Only popped up in bold red letters in a box, as did the space for a password. He’d seen no such thing on any of the other files.

  He took a sip of beer. Nothing made sense anymore. Why would a jump drive show up with guns being run by Roy and his crew? Why did it have ops plans and AARs associated with the Mighty Men when those quickly became irrelevant? And just what did the Athena file contain that required a password?

  Regardless, he didn’t have time to ponder it. He had to return that drive before Nicole and Roy finished playing pool. Jonathan opened his safe and retrieved the jump drive holding Bryson’s notes from his investigation. He copied the AARs and ops plans onto them. He highlighted the Athena file to copy it. The computer beeped.

  File cannot be copied.

  Jonathan rose and paced the living area. He sorted through what he had and added this new bit of information. Twenty-four people dead, including Christine after the Taliban had singled her out. Guns being skimmed and run through the compound to the Taliban by Roy and company. Four people, including Roy and Nicole, who could have cared less about the memorial service. A jump drive full of operational information related to the Mighty Men and a mysterious file called Athena.

  Christine had died a cruel and senseless death. All because Roy and Nicole wanted to earn some extra cash and betray them at the same time. He slammed his fist into the closet door.

  He had to keep that drive.

  Boss Man’s words from the butt-chewing the two days before rang in his ears. “You are too personally involved in the investigation. Stay out of it and let Bishop handle it. You hear me?”

  Not this time. Jonathan’s fingers tightened around the bottle. His gaze slid to that picture of Christine and him together. Even then, he could still smell the lilac perfume she’d worn.

  He hurled the bottle at the cinder block wall next to the television. It shattered, raining pieces of clear glass onto the floor and leaving a trail of golden liquid running down the cream paint.

  This time, I’m helping.

  He’d make sure they paid for her death.

  No matter what.

  7

  Ghazni Province, Afghanistan

  Still tingling with afterglow, Nicole strolled into the cool foyer of the administrative building and up the stairs to the second floor. Most of it had something to do with the rather pleasant night spent with Roy. The other part? That came with knowing that within a couple of weeks, she’d be one very rich woman.

  Across from the stairs lay the break area. Someone had already started the coffee, so she located her mug in the dishwasher and leaned against the wall to wait for it to finish perking.

  “Staring at it won’t make it perk any faster,” a male voice commented.

  Ward. He stood in the doorway with his own mug in hand.

  She appraised him with a sharp glance. Lines between his eyes and on his brow had aged him. Could it be he had some gray appearing in his mussed blond hair?. But his eyes were what disturbed her. Red tinged the green. And that look when he met her gaze? Molten anger.

  She took an automatic step back. “And top of the morning to you.”

  He shrugged and broke his gaze.

  Had she imagined that anger?

  The coffeemaker coughed out the last few drops.

  He picked up the carafe. “Coffee?”

  “Uh, thanks.” She forced a smile to her face. Once he poured hers, she took her time with the cream and sugar and watched him out of the corner of her eye.

  He wordlessly filled his own mug and stepped into the hall. A door slammed a moment later.

  For sure, he was angry.

  How much did he know? How could he know anything? She knew from the conversation she’d overheard between him and Boss Man a couple of days before that all they’d found was rifle that had misfired.

  She shrugged and continued to her office. Several papers rested in the box outside her door. She snagged those and stepped inside. Once logged into the system, she sorted through the order requests. She had one for the mess hall. Boy, did the guys here know how to eat. Another one had come from the HVAC guys requesting parts in preparation for the harsh summer looming in a few weeks. She also noted the stack of invoices Ward had developed for all of the protective details they’d run in March. The one from three days before was obviously absent. He must have come in early to work that morning. At least now she had everything she needed for the quarterly report.

  As she began generating orders to their vendors, voices distracted her. Not from the hall but echoing through the vent between her office and Boss Man’s.

  Ward was there. His voice rose and fell like it drifted on an ocean current. “Case…breakthrough…guns.”

  She stopped typing, closed the door, and shut the blinds over the floor-to-ceiling window beside the door. Like she had so many times before, she knelt at the vent and listened.

  Ward was speaking. “We’ve found enough evidence to clearly show that Roy Wildman, Cal Bacon, Frisco Montoya, and Nicole Chardet are running guns through this compound.”

  “What kind of evidence?”

  “Altered orders. Jeb always gives Nicole his orders. Then when she places the order with Mark Rifles, she changes it to be more than that but still below the number that would trigger it having to go through the home office. The shipments come in early evening. Roy, Cal, or Frisco always goes with t
he truck to pick them up.”

  “I’m not sure when they’d have opportunity to take out the guns.” Someone, most likely Boss Man, drummed their fingers on a desk.

  “That’s the beauty of it. They get in so late that Jeb doesn’t pop the crate until the next day. That’s plenty of time for them to take out the difference.”

  “If he keeps them under lock and key, how do they get in?”

  “Keys are easy to copy. All Nicole has to do is to swap out an order forged in Jeb’s handwriting to match the altered order she sends to Mark Rifles and their resulting invoice. And since it doesn’t go through the home office, no one is the wiser for it.” She could almost feel Ward’s satisfaction.

  Nicole gripped her knees and bent so her ear was closer to the vent.

  Something tapped on a desk, most likely a pencil. She silently rooted for Boss Man to dismiss the whole thing as a figment of Ward’s imagination. Finally, the CEO spoke. “You have pictures?”

  “I do.”

  A computer chimed.

  Boss Man muttered a curse word. “Where did you take these?”

  “In her cellar. There’s fifty rifles in all. And you can see our logo stamped on the muzzle along with the shipment number. When I added that number to those on original orders that Jeb turned in, they equaled what she ordered. My theory is that they get a little each time to avoid suspicion. Then when they have enough, they do a trade.”

  “I—I don’t believe this.”

  “Sir, it’s more than that,” Ward said.

  “Then what? What else did you find?” Boss Man sounded like someone who’d already received too much bad news.

  “It’s not what. It’s motive.”

  “Spit it out.”

  “I think the ambush was a way to cover the fact that Christine had found out about the gunrunning.”

  “What? Come again?”

  A chair creaked, and Nicole envisioned Ward leaning forward as he tried to convince the CEO that he had a case. “Maybe she went down to the basement. Found the guns. She confronted Roy about them, and he knew he had to get rid of her. So he paid off his client, and they murdered her along with twenty-three other individuals. Only they got greedy and singled her out by murdering her in a different manner because she was stabbed when the rest were shot. At some point, they pulled off her helmet and undid her hair. Maybe to confirm who she was? We don’t know. Maybe Roy fingered her as a target, but we can’t be sure. I do think she knew something.”

  “You have proof of that?”

  Ward sighed. “No, sir. Not right now. Only the fact that the night before the convoy, I could tell she wanted to talk to me about something. Then she backed off.”

  “I see.” Though he didn’t sound convinced. “Your pics seem to show that you might be right. Who do you think is the ringleader?”

  “Probably Roy. Or Nicole.”

  “Chardet? You’re crazy.”

  “Am I? She’s capable.”

  Heat rose in Nicole’s chest at the words.

  Boss Man shot out a breath. “She was vetted just as much as you and I were. You understand?”

  “I know.”

  “What’s Bishop’s opinion on this?”

  Jonathan cleared his throat. “He agrees.”

  A chair creaked. “Did he do the work?”

  “Most of it. I wanted to search for the guns myself.”

  “I still think your personal involvement with Parker is impeding your judgment.”

  The conversation bounced back and forth, and it sounded as if Ward had begun convincing Boss Man at least to search the basement.

  Nicole’s hands balled into fists. Panic turned the coffee she’d drunk acidic. She tried to straighten, but the blood had drained from her lower legs. She wound up in a sitting position against the wall beside the vent. Her breath came in small, whispered gasps.

  She had to call Roy.

  Now.

  Grasping the edge of her desk, she hauled herself to her feet. If Boss Man saw the guns in the basement, the four of them would leave the compound in cuffs. Ward would be glad to be the one to slap them on her wrists.

  She snatched her cell phone from her desk and dialed Roy’s number. “Answer me. Now!”

  He did on the third ring. “Hey, baby.”

  Metal clanged, and several guys laughed in the background. He had to be at the gym pumping iron since he didn’t have a meeting until that afternoon.

  “Are you alone?”

  “With Cal.”

  “Listen to me. I only have time to say this once.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She outlined what she’d overheard through the vent. “He’s on to us. You’ve got to get those rifles gone. Understand? If he finds them…”

  She cringed at the potential ramifications.

  “We’re going over there now. Where should I stash them?”

  “I don’t care. Anywhere. Just not in the cellar. Ward will be so focused there that he won’t think to look somewhere else.”

  “I’ve got the perfect place.”

  “I don’t care. Just go.” She blew out an impatient breath and tossed her phone onto the desk. She collapsed onto her chair and picked up her coffee mug. The dark liquid trembled.

  She’d know very soon about how successful they were.

  Ghazni Province, Afghanistan

  “I’ve laid out everything I’ve got.” Jonathan swallowed hard. He’d done it. He’d found the evidence needed to send Roy, Nicole, and the others out of the compound in cuffs. Satisfaction flowed through him like endorphins after a hard workout.

  Boss Man speared him with his intense blue gaze. “You’re sure about this.”

  “Positive.”

  “All right.” He continued flipping the wooden pencil through his fingers, just as he had the entire time Jonathan had spoken. “And you’re sure Wildman is the ringleader?”

  “Either him or Nicole. You know they’re a couple. The weapons are in the cellar of the women’s building. She drew up the orders. She has the ability and means to fake a manifest or to give Roy the access. She also has the ability to swap out files as needed.”

  The pencil in Boss Man’s fingers snapped, and he tossed the pieces into the trash. “I hear you. Anything else?”

  The jump drive. He had yet to say anything about it. As if warning him to keep silent, a cold feeling washed over him. He shook his head.

  “Why don’t you and I have a chat with Chardet and check out the cellar?” Boss Man rose and stepped into the hall to her closed door. He tapped on it. At her muffled reply, he opened it. “Chardet, you have a moment?”

  “Uh, sure.” She cocked a perfectly coiffed eyebrow and hit a key on her computer. “What’s up?”

  “Ward here has some serious concerns.”

  “Oh?” She studied him with narrowed eyes as she pushed back from her desk. She ran her hands down her black hair, which she’d pulled into a ponytail. “Why do I think these ‘serious concerns’ involve me?”

  “They do.” Boss Man cleared his throat. He spread his legs and crossed his arms. “You see, he thinks you and Roy are running some guns through this compound.”

  Nicole’s gaze hardened as she focused on Jonathan. “Really? You think I’d do that.” Her question came out more as a statement.

  “Is it true?” Boss Man demanded.

  Jonathan fought the urge to roll his eyes. His CEO seemed more interested in saving his legacy than anything else.

  “I find the accusation ridiculous and groundless, as if, thanks to his Christian convictions, he has to crucify someone, even an innocent person.” She studied him. “I think Jonathan is angry and upset that his girlfriend was one of the ones killed. I think his grief is impeding his judgment.”

  “Leave Christian out of this,” he snarled. “This is the result of detective work, not some crusade of mine.”

  “Where’s your evidence?”

  “We have enough to take a look at the cellar in your bu
ilding,” Boss Man told her. “Now.”

  She glared at them for a moment longer. Then she sighed as if they were asking her to walk to Kabul in one day. She snatched her sunglasses from the blotter and headed toward the door. “You’re wasting your time.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” Jonathan followed her.

  “Whatever,” she muttered.

  She led the way downstairs and into a bright morning already heating up as the sun began its scorching march across the sky. Within seconds they arrived at the Women’s Building and stepped into the relative coolness of the foyer. “Go ahead. Search the cellar all you want.”

  She opened the door and gave a mock bow.

  Jonathan led the way downstairs. He cut on the light.

  “By the way, did you have a search warrant to come down here?” Acid laced her question.

  “Don’t need one,” Jonathan told her. “Afghan soil, you see.”

  “Yeah, right.” She snorted.

  He marched over to the storage unit where he’d found the guns and flipped up the lid.

  Nothing but blackness.

  “Wrong unit, Ward?” Nicole’s voice taunted him.

  He slammed the lid on the next unit, then dove to another. Empty.

  “They were here. I swear they were all here. I saw them with my own eyes!”

  Boss Man’s face had turned bright red. Tendons bulged at his neck, and a vein pulsed at his temple under his gray buzz cut.

  “Chardet, please forgive the inconvenience. You may return to work. Ward, to my office.”

  Jonathan kept his focus on Nicole.

  Boss Man turned and stomped up the stairs.

  Before Jonathan could move, Nicole shoved him into the wall. She crammed against him so close that coffee intermingling with stale smoke on her breath filled his nostrils. Her manicured nails dug like claws into his arms.

  He winced, sure that dents would remain in his arm like tattoos.

  “It’s nice to know you think so highly of me as to falsely accuse me of running guns and murdering your girlfriend. Maybe next time, you’ll pick your battles more wisely.” She released him. “Now get out of my house.”