Missing in Action
Not dead at all, missing in action. What the...? He clicked to scroll down.
Access Denied - No Security Clearance
"What?" muttered Jobert. There had to be some mistake. Why the hell was he being locked out of a Marine sergeant's personnel record? He tried it again. Same result. He sat back in his chair. The system would already have recorded that he'd made two attempts. Somewhere in either this building or the Pentagon someone was being notified that he'd tried to look at a file that they didn't want him too. No point trying again. He had enough shit to deal with.
He sighed. Nothing was ever as simple as it should be. He had no clout or political capital to get this changed right now. In time maybe, but it was way too early to be politicking to try and change his security access on a file so clearly linked to the whole goddam mess. Once he'd got things back on track in Shibde, maybe he could get the clearance he needed and give the girl what she wanted. He frowned, but right now he was going to have to face her without the information he had promised.
"I can't feel anything in the fingers at all," Pete croaked.
"It's going to be all right," Sam reassured him. "This is the best hospital in the world for treating these kinds of wounds. The doctors say that the operation went really well, you will get all the feeling and the movement back in the shoulder and arm."
"Do you think I'll be able to surf again?"
His voice sounded painfully thin, he had only been awake for a few minutes, and she had a pretty clear idea how he felt. As soon as she'd heard that he was awake, she had persuaded them to put her in a wheelchair and take her to see him.
"I know you will." She knew nothing of the sort.
“Huh...” He shifted uncomfortably. "I guess we finally get some time on our own."
Sam tried for a smile. "Yeah, wasn't quite what I had in mind for a reunion. When you got shot, I couldn't think... I just... I didn't realize..."
"Hey, it's going to be ok, you just told me it was."
Sam looked into the dreamy blue eyes. Maybe it was, maybe it really was this time.
"I can't believe you got shot as well. Tell me what happened again?"
Sam told the whole story all over again.
"Where's Lucy?" he asked.
"She's around, I saw her again this morning, she's good."
Pete smiled weakly. "So you're off the hook for the murders?"
"I guess. Jobert's supposed to be coming in today to explain it all."
"Jobert's here to explain it all."
They both turned to the voice from the doorway. Jobert stepped into the room; he was holding a laptop bag and a large hamper. He looked tired, she thought, and older than she remembered.
"I can't believe you shot me," Sam said.
"I wasn't aiming at you, if that's any consolation."
"Who the hell shot me? Can't we complain or something?" said Pete in a thin voice. Sam took his hand.
Jobert looked at him. "Sorry 'bout that, but this is America, the police shoot people here. And Sam and I have a deal; I don't think you want to be rocking that boat with any lawsuits."
"Huh."
"How are you both feeling? I'm real sorry about what happened. I didn't see that Terry New would be so deeply entrenched with the MSS. It certainly hadn't occurred to me that he would be both desperate enough to want to have you killed, and have the resources and contacts within Chinese security to be able to try it. Can I sit down?"
"Pull up a chair," Sam said.
Jobert put the hamper and the laptop bag on the floor by the window and took the chair on the other side of Pete's bed from Sam.
"Lucy said that Terry New is dead," Sam said.
"Yes, he took one in the head and never recovered consciousness."
She received this news in silence. She couldn't find any sympathy for him. He'd tried to have her killed and nearly succeeded.
"And what about the charges against us?" Pete asked.
"I've got them all dropped. Thanks to Sam, we had enough on the wire to get the ball rolling, then we found plenty to incriminate him at his home. And we've come up with a good cover story. It's actually pretty close to the truth. Terry New was defrauding the business, and had the Raverts both killed to cover it up. He was trying to set you up to take the fall, and when it appeared that that might not work, he was trying to have you killed. Everything you did has been judged as acceptable under the circumstances, and they won't be pressing any charges." Jobert paused to take off his jacket. It was warm in the room.
"We're going to leave the Chinese out of it," he continued. "We're saying that with your help New was caught in a police sting operation that resulted in his death, and the death of his hired hitman. So the guy that almost certainly did the murders is going to be blamed for them publicly, and is already dead, so that takes the heat right out of the story. We've come up with a fake identity for him, and I'm sure it will hold water."
"He was the same guy that killed Roger Ravert. He did this little thing, rolling his head, that he did after he killed Roger. That's how I knew, that's why I went after him."
"I guessed it was something like that."
"Eventually."
"I couldn't move until I had some proof."
"Terry New was going to kill me. And where was the rest of your protection team when that was going down?"
"Long story." Jobert lifted a hand in his lap, and dropped it. "I said I was sorry. We're all here, and you put in a pretty good account of yourself, how are you feeling about it all?"
Sam hesitated. "About killing that guy?"
"Yes."
She didn't waver from his gaze. "I try not to think about it. It was him or me, right?"
"Right. Sometimes... it can stay with you... we have people who can help."
"I'm fine. Thanks. Do you know who he was?" She sounded more defensive than she wanted to, she was having some bad nightmares, but she wasn't about to tell Jobert.
"No, and we'll probably never know. Privately, we've protested heavily to the Chinese ambassador. He's denying everything. Meanwhile, all the drones with DeChip hardware are grounded until we can analyze exactly what and how they were doing it."
Sam nodded.
"Just one thing left," replied Jobert, glancing at Pete.
"It's all right; he knows everything about my Dad. You can tell us both."
"First, you have to tell me what I need to know." Jobert put a small audio recorder on the bed.
Sam looked at it. "I suppose." And with Pete filling in a few details, she told the whole story of the adventure on the Powder Burn mountain.
When she was finished, Jobert asked a few questions, and then nodded. "You haven't disappointed me, I thank you for that." He picked up the recorder and put it back in his pocket. "Unfortunately... this is where I disappoint you."
"What?" Sam leaned forward.
"Well, I can tell you something. I can tell you that your father might not be dead."
Sam's jaw dropped open.
"He's listed as MIA—"
"We never got a body, so we know that," snapped Sam.
"Ok, so that part makes sense, but that's all I know, the rest of the file is classified beyond my security clearance."
Now she sat bolt upright in her wheelchair. "You've got to be kidding me?"
"I wish I was, because I made a promise to you, and I want to keep it. It may be possible to get the clearance changed, but so far, I've not had any luck."
"I don't believe you."
"I thought you'd probably say that. This is all I can do to try and prove it to you." Jobert held out his phone as he spoke.
Sam looked at the picture. It was a shot of a computer screen. The file of James R Blackett with the words "Access Denied - No Security Clearance" in a dialog box.
"You could have had this mocked up in ten minutes in Photoshop."
"I didn't say it was perfect, I said it was all I could do to try to prove it to you. I can't get you int
o Langley to look at classified files."
Sam just stared at him.
Jobert leaned across the bed towards her. "I'll try and find out what the hell's going on. My security clearance is pretty high and some fairly heavy shit went down to put this out of my reach. Now tell me what you know, you must have talked to guys in his unit, right?"
Sam was silent. There was a humming in her head, but she didn't know if it was real or not.
"Sam?" said Pete. "Sam!"
She looked at him.
"Tell him, how can it hurt?"
"I want to help, Sam."
"I don't believe this, what could possibly—"
"Tell me what you know and I'll give you my best guess," Jobert said.
She stared at him for a long while. The humming faded. She could hear birds outside the window. She wanted to cry, but she didn't want to do it in front of this man.
"Sam." Pete took her hand and squeezed it.
She looked at him.
"Just tell him what you know about it."
She started, but only a croak came out. She cleared her throat and tried again. "It was the end of March in 2003," she managed, mechanically. "They'd been fighting the Iraqis on the Saddam Canal — they had tanks and we didn't. We took a lot of casualties and Dad was one of them. The difference was that the others had bodies, stories, people knew what had happened. We got nothing."
She looked from Pete to Jobert. "We asked everyone that fought there. No one knew where or when he died. A few guys could remember him during the fire fight and then he just seems to have vanished. Given that we supposedly won the war, and ran the place for a decade or whatever, it's pretty clear that he's not a prisoner anywhere. And surely they should have been able to find out what happened — how can he still be MIA? And if you're not lying to me, what the hell happened to classify his file? What the hell is going on?"
Jobert sat back. "I don't know Sam; the story doesn't make any sense. Maybe they don't know what happened, and they are trying to cover that fact... but then I would be able to see that file, that wouldn't be a security issue... Hell, I have no goddam idea, but I'll try to find out."
She slumped back in the wheelchair. She had been looking forward to today so much. This was supposed to be the moment when the mystery was finally cleared away. When she had answers. Now all she knew was that there was another layer. How deep was she going to have to go?
"I'm sorry Sam," said Jobert. "We'll look after you both, until you want to leave. I'd recommend that you stay here until you're fully recovered. Everything will be provided for you. In the meantime, I'll do my best to find out what happened to your father. Any idea what you want to do next? I can get you a ticket to anywhere you like once you're done here."
Pete smiled, and squeezed her arm with his good hand. "Hey, he said anywhere."
Sam turned to him, trying hard to put the bitter disappointment behind her.
"He's going to keep looking for you Sam, we won't give up."
"Iraq," she said.
"What?"
"Iraq, I want to go and find out what happened to my father."
Sam Blackett will return in London’s Burning
At the end of every book, Kindle gives you the chance to rate it. If you think your friends would enjoy Powder Burn and you have a moment to give it some stars and share a thought on Facebook or Twitter, I’d be honored and eternally grateful.
Many thanks, and happy reading,
Mark Chisnell
More Books by Mark Chisnell
Powder Burn – Burn with Sam Blackett #1
“Chisnell is a favorite of mine and Powder Burn delivers his usual well-researched, fascinating, and fast-packed thriller novel.”
Nina Sankovitch, readallday.com
The Defector – Janac’s Games #1 (originally published as The Delivery)
“This is a remarkable thriller – chillingly violent, full of tension and with a very original ending.”
Publishing News
The Wrecking Crew – Janac’s Games #2
“A real ripping yarn ... begging to be made into an all-action film.”
Qantas in-flight magazine
The Sniper – Janac’s Games, Origins #1
“The decision making and cat and mouse drama make this an excellent read.”
Thomas Larsen
The Fulcrum Files
“This book satisfies sailing buffs, history fans, espionage addicts, and anyone else yearning for a good yarn.”
Huffington Post
About the Author
Mark Chisnell grew up in a small town on the east coast of England. The town was dominated by the rise of the oil industry and the decline of shipbuilding and fishing. Mark has been a professional sportsman and also won awards as a broadcaster and for his non-fiction accounts of maritime adventure. He’s written for some of the world’s leading magazines and newspapers, including Esquire and the Guardian. One of his greatest personal achievements was hitch-hiking to Mount Everest base-camp in Tibet. In Trainers.
Mark had thought he’d have a future as a marine engineer; that was until he picked up a copy of Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. The cover said it would change the way the reader felt about the world and it changed Mark’s perception about his life and where he wanted to go. He learned that books can change people’s lives and that he wanted to write one. He wanted to write many.
Mark began by writing about the sport in which he won three world championships, and subsequently won plaudits and recognition for his adrenaline-fuelled and suspenseful accounts of round-the-world racing. When he moved to fiction, he used his experiences as a sportsman and his background in broadcasting and journalism to weave chart-topping tales filled with intrigue, danger, romance and characters that take the reader on an incredible page turning journey.
Mark currently lives in Europe with his wife and two sons.
For more information about Mark and his books please sign up for his email list http://www.markchisnell.com/email.htm
Connect with Mark
Twitter: http://twitter.com/markchisnell
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mark.chisnell.writer
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/markchisnell
Copyright
COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Mark Chisnell
Mark Chisnell asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
License Notes:
Thank you for downloading this eBook, it’s yours to enjoy – but this eBook is licensed for your personal use only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader.
Chinese Burn Page 17
