Chapter 6
US Embassy
Amman, Jordan
Lance took a seat in the same chair he occupied the first day he had come to the Embassy. The briefing Riley had claimed the mission should be postponed. Today was the debrief to cover what had gone wrong.
Lance glanced at the empty chair Riley had occupied that day. She wasn’t there. Dix had forbade it, and had gone up the chain of command claiming he had sensitive information that required she be absent.
Lance read that as Dix covering his ass. Dix had tried to talk to Lance on the ride back from Syria, explain his side of things. But Lance had been too preoccupied with Riley. She sat alone. Eyes closed, but Lance would bet good money she hadn’t been sleeping. In fact, she looked as if she hadn’t slept since before the mission fail.
The same brass and high-level suits filed in and took seats at the table. Admiral Turner gave Lance a head nod, but didn’t speak to him. If he was reading the Admiral correctly—the big man was telling him they would have a chat later. Privately.
A nerdy little booger eater, aka intel guy, was going through the rigors of how sound the intel had been. General Cairn frowned, stroked his chin.
“So, what the hell happened?”
The intel guy stepped back and deferred to Dix, who took center stage. “All indicators are that the intelligence was leaked to ISIS, who then used the information to set up a counter attack.”
The room buzzed with low murmurs.
“Initial inquiries point to one person, the only other person outside the people in this room who had access to the intel.” Dix shot a quick glance at Lance. Cold fingers of dread snaked into his chest and squeezed his heart. “Riley Bray.”
Fuck.
The dickhead was trying to pin all of this on Riley. The room erupted, most people refusing to believe Riley could have anything to do with treason.
“That’s a serious charge,” Admiral Turner said in a low, calm voice that commanded everyone’s attention. A hush fell over the room and all eyes turned to Dix. He fidgeted.
The little weasel.
“Yes, sir, and I can assure you it gives me no pleasure to make the accusation. There is just no other way the information could’ve been passed.”
“What motive would she have?” the General asked. “From all our interactions with Deputy Bray, she seems competent, mission-oriented—almost to a fault. I can’t see what would make her place SEALs in the line of fire.”
“It could be any number of things, sir.” Dix shifted on his feet, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.
Had he really believed he could drop that bombshell and not get follow-up questions?
“Well, no shit. What I’m asking is if you have anything other than supposition to go on.” Cairn’s face was getting red. Apparently, Dix was not impressing him with his allegation— especially without any facts to back it up.
Neither was Lance. The idea that Riley could be involved in passing secrets to the enemy pissed him off.
“Look, no one wants to believe one of our own—especially someone as impressive as Deputy Bray—would be able to do something like this.” One of the suits looked at everyone seated around the table. “But, there is no doubt that we need to get to the bottom of this.”
“I agree,” remarked another suit, one with politician written all over him. “If there’s nothing there…then no harm, no foul.”
Turner leaned forward and placed his forearms on the table. “Then it appears we need to appoint an investigative team to get to the bottom of this.” All heads around the table nodded in agreement. A smug smile of satisfaction slid across Dix’s face.
Lance’s chest tightened and his hands fisted at his side. This was not right.
The Riley he had come to know over the past few days was not a mole.
* * *
Silence seemed to follow Riley everywhere. Eyes filled with pity took her in. Half smiles that said sorry you failed greeted her along the unusually long walk from the security entrance into the work area. It had so often been a calming environment. Not that day.
A hush envelope the space as she entered. None of her people would look her in the eye. All heads down.
So, this is what failure feels like…
She hated everything about her life at that moment. As if she wore a scarlet letter, one that screamed to the world that she was the cause of Ripper’s death. Shame she knew she would wear for the rest of her life. A man had died. On her watch.
No one was to blame but her.
And everyone—including the top brass—seemed to know, since she was ordered not to attend the debrief of the mission. They wanted only her written statement. It was crap—but really, what would she have done if she had gone? Verified that Ripper was dead because she lacked the balls to save him. That she had so little backbone, she couldn’t stand up to her boss and force the men to be called back. She could have picked up the red phone next to her and gone over his head. Insisted Dix’s boss listen to her—trust her—and get the men out. She could’ve gotten on comms and told Horse she had a bad feeling and to pull back.
So many things she could’ve done. Should have done.
She flipped on the light to her office, shut the door behind her, and dropped into her chair. Booting up her computer, she wondered if Lance was at the debriefing. On the one hand, Dix wanted to impress him for whatever reason Lance had been sent to observe him—most likely a promotion of some sort. But on the other hand, Dix had basically shut down when shit started going south, and Riley had to step in. If Dix was ass-covering in this debrief—which, of course he was—Lance would be there to set the record straight.
If Lance would actually go to bat for her.
She thought about how he comforted her after she discovered Ripper had died. How long had it been since she’d been comforted by a man? Too long. That just wasn’t the way she was wired. She hated showing weakness, especially in this testosterone-heavy environment.
Lance stirred something in her. His strong arms around her. Their bodies pressed against each other. Her libido had roared to life, and begged to be taken care of.
But it was so much more than that. A connection had been forged from early on with him. It had been just a small flame in the beginning, but had slowly turned to bonfire sized after the mission went to hell. He had trusted her assessment of the situation. Tried to help her get the men out of danger. They had worked together to get the SEALs back to the base.
It was the closest thing to a partnership she had been involved with in a very long time, and it felt good to have someone who had her back.
She booted up her computer. Whatever had been going on with Lance while they were in Syria had obviously stayed in Syria. She hadn’t seen him since the plane ride back to Amman. He sat with Dix. Deplaned with him. And she hadn’t had any contact Lance since then. A sense of loss swelled. She liked Lance. Having someone one her side might alleviate some of the loneliness.
An email sat in her inbox from Flaherty:
LCDR Knight requested I get him a still photo of one of the men outside the school in Palmyra. I don’t have any contact info for him. Would it be possible for you to get this to him?
V/r,
Ryan Flaherty
Chief Petty Officer, USN
Riley opened the attachment. A grainy picture of a white man filled the screen. The guy Ripper had seen outside the school. The last time she had heard his voice. She sat still, thinking aloud while the image printed.
“What do you have to do with this, strange white man in the middle of a suicide bombing mission?”
And why was Lance so interested in him?
* * *
More discussion ensued around the higher ups, but Lance wasn’t listening. Dix was in deep conversation with the chief of intelligence, Rodney Baines.
“Run a CI on Riley,” Dix said, barely audible to Lance.
A counterintelligence investigation.
What was his deal? Did he really hate Riley so much that he would accuse her of trading secrets with the terrorists?
“Commander,” Turner called to him. Lance’s head shot up. The Admiral was standing in the doorway, head-nodding toward the hallway.
Lance jumped up and followed the man out the door, down the hall, and into the room where Lance, Mick, and Lucas had met a few days earlier. Turner closed the door behind him, and flipped a switch that jammed any recording devices.
“What’s your assessment of Bray? Could she have done this?” Turner asked.
“Sir, I’m having a hard time believing she’s the leak. All indicators are that she is loyal to the agency, patriotic, and takes her job seriously.”
Turner quirked up an eyebrow. “How long have you known her?”
“I met her for the first time on the day of the briefing a week ago.”
“So, you only have a few days with her, and she’s convinced you she is not capable of committing crimes against her country that resulted in the death of a SEAL?”
“I haven’t known her long, sir, that is correct. And she may have duped me along with everyone in that room. But I witnessed how she reacted to the explosion. I was with her when she went to see the SEAL team after they returned. She was devastated, took all the blame for the failure on herself.”
“Some say that might indicate a confession. Points to her being guilty.” Turner grabbed the door handle and sighed. “This investigation is going to happen, and they’ll be crawling up Ms. Bray’s ass with a large scope. He flipped the switch and opened the door. “I hope Riley comes out unscathed. I like her. She’s got bigger balls than most the men in this building. Even mine, sometimes.”
Lance chuckled. “I think she’s proud of that fact, sir.”
Lance walked down the hall towards Riley’s office. He was running through every interaction he’d had with her since they’d met. Was it possible she’d fooled him? If she was a counter agent, she would be adept at lying and portraying herself as someone she’s not.
But he had seen her after she’d learned Ripper had died. That was pure, raw emotion that tore her apart. No one was that great an actor.
But he had to admit he really didn’t know the woman, even though he wanted to believe he did. After he started sniffing around and asking questions, he might find out exactly who she was. And that might blow his image of her to hell.
Or make him want her even more than he already did.