Chapter 3 - The Dead Major
Captain Ellison was alive.
Barely.
He had been found unconscious in the rear compartment of General Cross’s government SUV with a plastic restraint around one wrist and a needle mark near his neck.
What frightened Jake more was what Ellison had been holding.
A photograph.
Major Ethan Cross.
Alive.
Dated eighteen months after his official death.
General Cross stared at the picture in the medical unit.
Nobody spoke.
The general’s hand trembled once.
Then stopped.
“My son is dead,” he said.
Colonel Hale answered softly.
“That photograph says otherwise.”
“It says he was alive after I buried him.”
Jake stood near the wall, wondering why he was still being allowed to hear any of this.
Cross turned to him.
“You’re wondering why you haven’t been dismissed.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So am I.”
It was the first almost-humorous thing anyone had said all morning.
Then Ellison woke.
His eyes opened violently.
“General!”
Cross stepped forward.
“I’m here.”
Ellison tried sitting up.
“Don’t trust—”
His voice failed.
“Don’t trust who?” Cross asked.
Ellison grabbed the general’s sleeve.
“Mercer.”
Jake froze.
Major Mercer stood behind him.
Everyone turned.
Mercer did not move.
Colonel Hale slowly placed one hand near his sidearm.
“Major?”
Mercer looked at Ellison.
Then at Cross.
“You really believe this?”
Cross said nothing.
Mercer’s face tightened.
“I brought Reynolds here. If I were involved, why would I do that?”
Ellison shook his head weakly.
“Not Daniel.”
Confusion spread across Mercer’s face.
Ellison gasped.
“His brother.”
Jake looked at Mercer.
“You have a brother?”
Mercer whispered, “Had.”
And suddenly the investigation became personal for someone else.
Mercer’s older brother, Lieutenant Colonel Aaron Mercer, had supposedly died six years earlier during a training accident.
Officially.
Another dead officer.
Another body nobody had closely examined because the remains were badly burned.
General Cross ordered records pulled immediately.
Ethan Cross.
Aaron Mercer.
Two military deaths.
Both connected to Northbridge.
Both investigated by the same internal review officer.
Brigadier General Thomas Rourke.
Rourke was now deputy commander of the region.
And he was scheduled to arrive on base that afternoon.
General Cross read the report twice.
Then looked at Jake.
“Corporal, go back to your barracks.”
Jake blinked.
“Sir?”
“This has gone beyond you.”
“With respect, sir, somebody already beat the hell out of me.”
“That’s exactly why I’m removing you.”
Jake wanted to argue.
Cross stopped him.
“You showed kindness to a stranger. You did not volunteer to become part of a conspiracy.”
“No, sir.”
“Then leave it to people trained for this.”
Jake saluted.
He left.
For almost three hours, he tried to obey.
Then someone slid an envelope beneath his barracks-room door.
Inside was a key.
A Harbor Light Diner napkin.
And a message.
ASK THE WAITRESS WHAT SHE SAW.
Jake stared at it.
He called Mercer.
No answer.
Colonel Hale.
No answer.
He almost called base security.
Then remembered Captain Ellison.
Someone inside the command structure had already compromised procedures.
Jake grabbed his jacket.
Twenty minutes later, he entered Harbor Light.
The same waitress recognized him.
“You.”
Jake sat at the counter.
“I need to ask you something.”
She looked nervous.
“About the older man?”
Jake’s pulse increased.
“You remember him.”
“I remember what happened after you left.”
“What happened?”
She leaned closer.
“Three men came in.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Military maybe. One was wearing civilian clothes.”
“What did they want?”
“The booth.”
“Booth Seven?”
She nodded.
“They tore apart the seat.”
Jake looked toward it.
“What were they looking for?”
“I don’t know.”
She reached under the counter.
“But they missed something.”
She placed a tiny metal object in front of him.
A data-storage device.
Jake stared.
“Where was that?”
“Under the table.”
“Why didn’t you turn it in?”
“I tried.”
“To who?”
She swallowed.
“A man from your base came here the next morning.”
Jake showed her pictures from his phone.
Mercer.
Hale.
Ellison.
She shook her head.
Then Jake found a public photograph of General Rourke.
The waitress went pale.
“That’s him.”
Jake stared.
“A brigadier general personally came here?”
“He told me the device was government property.”
“But you kept it.”
“I didn’t trust him.”
Jake picked up the storage device.
“Why give it to me?”
“Because the older man told me something before he left.”
“What?”
“He said if anyone came asking questions, I should only trust the Marine who paid his bill.”
Jake felt a chill.
General Cross had expected trouble.
Before Jake could ask more, headlights swept across the windows.
Three black SUVs entered the parking lot.
The waitress whispered, “You need to leave.”
Jake looked toward the kitchen.
“Back door?”
She nodded.
He ran.
Halfway through the kitchen, the front door opened.
Men entered.
Jake heard one voice.
“Where’s Reynolds?”
He slipped through the rear exit.
A hand grabbed his arm.
Jake swung.
Major Mercer blocked the punch.
“Easy!”
Jake stared.
“How did you find me?”
“I tracked your phone.”
“Why?”
“Because General Cross knew you wouldn’t listen.”
Jake held up the data device.
“I found this.”
Mercer’s anger vanished.
“Where?”
“Under Booth Seven.”
Mercer stared at it.
Then headlights appeared at the far end of the alley.
He grabbed Jake.
“Move.”
They ran to Mercer’s truck.
As Mercer started the engine, Jake looked back.
One man stepped from the alley.
He was too far away to see clearly.
But Mercer saw him.
His hands froze on the wheel.
“No.”
Jake looked at him.
“What?”
Mercer’s face had lost all color.
The man stepped beneath a streetlight.
Same eyes as Mercer.
Same jaw.
Older.
Alive.
Mercer whispered the name of the brother he had buried six years earlier.
“Aaron.”
The man smiled.
Then raised a phone to his ear.
Mercer’s phone rang.
He answered without speaking.
May you like
His brother’s voice came through the speaker.
“Daniel, if you want to know who killed General Cross’s son, bring me the corporal.”
