Bodyguard Lockdown(27)

“Why didn’t Senator Harper want her name included with the list of the victims?”

“Privacy. Emily was pregnant,” Aaron said after a moment. “That part of Booker’s file was true. Emily went to find Booker at the base the day of the deaths. She used her father’s name to get through the security gates. The guards were green. Most of the victims were. Trygg didn’t want any of his experienced military men killed.”

“Of course not,” Quamar said derisively.

“It appeared to be a series of mishaps,” Aaron explained.

“Appeared to be?”

Aaron shrugged. “Let’s just say that I don’t believe in mishaps or coincidences when Trygg is involved.”

Quamar grunted. “Go on.”

“Booker had been called away at the last minute to deal with another security matter off-site. Emily didn’t know that, of course, and the guards failed to tell her. By the time anyone realized she’d breached security, Trygg had already pumped the area full of CIRCADIAN.”

“I saw what the coroner reported.” Quamar stared past Aaron’s shoulder for a moment, processing. “She died sixteen hours later. First, she miscarried. After, the doctors could not stop the hemorrhaging.”

“That part was true. The CIRCADIAN caused them both.”

Silence filled the air between the men. Quamar studied Aaron for a moment, trying to figure out his motivation for sharing this information.

“Did you notice who the coroner was, Quamar?”

The giant glanced at the signature. His gaze darted back to Aaron. “Omar Haddad.”

“A close personal friend of Senator Harper. And missing in action, as of three hours ago,” Aaron stated, his tone grim.

“Omar has disappeared?”

“He and I were supposed to meet up earlier and approach you together,” Aaron replied. “He never showed. Could be he’s switched sides.”

“His disappearance does not confirm Omar is guilty of conspiring with Trygg, Sabra—”

“I’m not done,” Aaron interrupted, his voice hard. “Booker wasn’t on base at the time of the poisoning, because he received last-minute orders. Orders to escort Omar Haddad back to Taer.”

“For what reason?”

“A personal favor for General Trygg.”

“What are you saying?”

“Trygg used Sandra to control her father.”

“Booker knows of Sandra’s involvement,” Quamar stated. “If Omar thinks Booker would harm his daughter, he’d stop him.”

“Booker knows. Somehow he got ahold of Trygg’s file,” Aaron admitted. “I haven’t figured out how yet. It had been a closed military trial. No one except essential military personnel were allowed access. And all were ordered to remain silent.”

“People talk, given the right persuasion. And files can be stolen,” Quamar stated. “Booker had five years to do both.”

“It took him less than two months.” Aaron laughed with derision. “Booker found out almost immediately. He joined Labyrinth and headed over here within the first year after Emily’s death.”

“You and he could have had the same source. Who did you get your information from, Sabra?” Quamar demanded. “This kind of information just does not land at your feet.”

Aaron’s lips twisted into a wicked grin.

“I sold an airbus to a very important person in the United States government. An airplane that has a tracker located in its belly.”

“How in the hell did you get ahold of an airplane?”

“It just so happens that I am a close personal friend of the President of the United States.”

“The man who sent you to Leavenworth?” Quamar’s laugh was low, guttural.

“What can I say?” Aaron shrugged. “I’m a forgiving person.”

“And the favor you are asking? It is from the President?”

“Jon Mercer needs your help in wrapping up a very nasty situation that has been going on for many years. Are you up for it?”

Quamar snorted. “The President is your contact?”

Aaron shrugged. “Stranger things...”

“Why not go through Cain? Or come to me directly? Or Jarek for that matter?” Quamar frowned. “Why you?”

“Let’s just say that this operation has been in the works for a while and that you, Cain and Jarek needed to be kept in the dark until the President decided otherwise.”

“Too many people, too many complications.” Quamar understood, but when it came to his loved ones... “I need proof, Sabra.”

“Of course you do.” Aaron reached into his pocket and pulled out a red scarf. “President Mercer also gave me a cool name. Cooler than the one he gave you, Cronus.”

Cronus.

His Labyrinth code name. Quamar stiffened. Only a handful of people even knew of its existence. He hadn’t heard the name in years. Not since he resigned from the organization.

“Mercer calls me...” Aaron draped the scarf over his face, wiggled his eyebrows. “Minos.”





Chapter Sixteen



The cave lay deep on the west side of the cliffs, far above the ravine.

“Here,” Sandra said, and wiped her fingers over the edge of the entrance. “My initials.”

Booker noted that the SH, while worn from the weather, still remained.

Sandra took the flashlight from her bag, flipped the switch and pointed toward the back of the cave. “There should be a ledge at the top of the wall. I tucked the thermos in a crevice nearby.”

“Let me.” Booker stepped up. He took out his knife and dug between the stone and the hole. “It’s wedged in tight.”

He pulled out a plastic bag. Wrapped inside were several cylinders. Each not much bigger than a small silver thermos.

“Don’t open it,” she cautioned. “The nanites are pressurized inside. The serum will be active. Those cylinders, together, could wipe out half of a continent.”

“So tell me again—” Booker placed the cylinders into the medical bag “—why you kept them?”

“I couldn’t destroy them,” she admitted, her voice suddenly weary. “I was so close, Booker. At the time, I couldn’t let that go. Do you realize how hard it is to let something go that might help millions of people? If I could find the solution, the nanites could attack all different types of diseased cells. Including cancer cells. It would save millions of lives.”

“Was it for that, or your father’s approval?”

“I’ve asked the same question a million times,” she acknowledged. She shoved her hair away from her face. “I think I grew up looking for some kind of recognition. From my father. From Jarek and Quamar. From the General.”

“Why, Doc?” Booker asked, honestly puzzled. “You’re smart. Beautiful.” He thought of the families she helped. “Caring. Loving.”

“My brother.”

“Jamaal?”

Sandra couldn’t hide the sadness. “No. Jamaal is the youngest. And irresponsible. He changes his profession as often as he changes clothes. It drives my father insane.”

“I don’t understand.” Booker studied her face. Noticed the paleness of her cheeks.

“I had another, older brother. No one ever talks about him. Andon was born several years before the rest of us. He died when Jarek and Quamar were very small.”

“How do you know about him?”

“My mother,” Sandra answered. “She kept some of his things hidden from my father. I came home early one day and discovered her with them. She made me swear not to tell my father.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten,” she admitted. She leaned against the wall, hugged her arms to her chest.

“Andon had always been the one,” Sandra explained. “My whole life I lived in the shadow of his ghost.”

“At eleven, right before he died, he told my father he wished to be a surgeon,” Sandra explained. “My father couldn’t have been happier.”

“Your mother told you that?”

“She broke down. One of the only times I’ve seen her that way.”

“How did he die?”

“At the hands of the Al Asheera,” Sandra replied. “They wanted my father to poison King Makrad, Jarek’s father. When my father refused, they tied him up and made him watch while they killed his son.

“My father never recovered. I think that is why most of my life he kept a wall up between Jamaal and myself. He never allowed himself to love us fully.”

“And so Jamaal reacted by being irresponsible.”

“Yes. And he does it very well.” Sandra laughed bitterly.