You Only Love Twice (Masters and Mercenaries #8)(105)

That was a kick in the gut. He knew there were always people willing to sell out soldiers for cash, but the thought of elected politicians being involved made him pause. They had influence. They could potentially not simply hand over Army intelligence, but actively influence Army strategy. “Did you find the evidence?”

“We needed to move around with impunity. There were people we needed to interview, but Iraq was a massive war zone at the time. I came up with the idea of embedding an operative in an Army unit.”

“What?”

She nodded, resuming her pacing. “You heard me. I thought people would talk more freely to a soldier than an operative. Some of the people we needed to interview were soldiers themselves.”

“We didn’t like to talk to spooks.” He had an inkling of where she was going. When had her husband died? What year? What time?

“See. I knew that. That’s exactly what I was trying to avoid by embedding our own. And it worked. The operative hadn’t served more than a few weeks when he came up with something.”

“Don’t call him the operative. I’m dumb, but I’m not stupid.” The words came out harsher than he’d intended, but now that he was here, he found himself getting emotional.

If he was right…oh, god, if he was f*cking right, so much made sense. And he had a story of his own for her.

She paled and then nodded, her movements almost robotic. “Jamie. It was Jamie. I picked a unit that was close to the action and that routinely patrolled some of the areas where the informants were.”

“Phoebe, was it my unit?”

“Yes.”

Jamie. Jimmy. The kid who’d joined them three weeks before it had all gone to hell. He’d actually gone on a couple of those interviews with him. Such a dumbass. He’d believed the story that Jimmy’s stepmother was Iraqi and that was how he’d spoken such fluent Farsi. He’d been thrilled at the time because they’d lost their translator. So very stupid to believe. It made sense now. “Private James Greene. He didn’t call himself Jamie though. Jimmy.”

“It’s always good to come close to the truth,” she said in a monotone. “That’s why I used my real first name and a close last name when I came to McKay-Taggart. If you looked me up, you wouldn’t find the real Phoebe Grant along with my construct and I can remember it easily.”

“He was a good soldier.” He’d been brave during the one firefight they’d gotten into. He’d held his line and hadn’t panicked. He’d had Jesse’s back.

“He wasn’t a soldier.”

“For those few weeks, he was. He did his job and he did it well.” How the hell was he going to tell her what he needed to say? Now it all made sense. At the time, it had been the mutterings of a dying man. “He didn’t endanger us. Is that what you’re worried I’ll think?”

Her hands became fists at her sides. “I endangered you, Jesse. It was my plan and it backfired. Somehow it got out that an operative was coming in with information. Jamie was due to come home and he was bringing his intelligence with him.”

“And that’s when we were captured.” The truth hit him. He’d been captured because the Agency had been playing spy games. Phoebe had come up with the plan. She’d pulled the trigger and he and his unit had paid the price. “He was trying to turn the CIA agent.” Jesse couldn’t help but laugh. It was a bitter sound. “The idiot thought it was me.”

“Yes. Maybe it was because your names were similar. You look a little alike. Jamie always looked younger than his years, so maybe that was the problem. You probably looked more like the age of the operative than him. But yes, I believe the Caliph mistook you for Jamie and that was why he tortured you.”

And she’d taken all that guilt and pain on herself. Or was there another reason she was pulling away from him? It hurt. It was a real physical pain to even think it. “Were you mad? Were you angry that I survived and he didn’t?”

Her eyes slid away, focusing on the floor. “At first. At first I believed everything they said about you.”

“You thought I turned. You didn’t realize they thought I was Jamie.”

“I thought maybe you had sold him out.”

“I didn’t.”

“I know that now.”

And it wasn’t fair to ask her if she was happy now that he’d survived. She couldn’t be. She could never be happy that her husband had died, but he had to make her see that somehow, someway Jesse had survived for her. “You didn’t sell him out either. And you didn’t sell me out. You had a problem and you came up with a solution that made sense.”

“I came up with a solution that got everyone killed.”

“That’s what happens in war. Your husband and I both knew the risks. We both understood going in what could happen and we made the choice. We chose to serve, and that means we chose to die if the sacrifice must be made. I was ready to die for my country.”

“It wasn’t your country you were going to die for. It was some f*cking businessman who wanted to make a profit.”

Finally she made some sense. “Yes. Yes, it was. So stop blaming yourself and let’s look to finding him. Our first step is to find the Caliph. He’ll lead us to whoever this man is. After we’re married, that is. And I think it would be easier to do it with my team. The Agency seems to have some problems right now.”