Greg put his elbows on the table and looked up. “Is that what you think happened? You think that a soldier died during a jump?”

  “I have no idea. But that is what you think, correct?”

  “I’d like to disprove that a cover-up has occurred for the last fifteen years. But it seems impossible with the type of evidence that keeps getting forwarded my way.”

  “I see that.”

  “I can get started on the information that my friend has sent to me, but I will need to speak to her at some point. You’re going to have to arrange a meeting.”

  “I am? Are you giving the orders now?”

  “No, but I am.” The commander appeared behind Ross Vetter, and he froze. “Give the man whatever he wants so this can be resolved, and this foolishness can get off my base.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ross looked properly chastised. That was the most hostile that Greg had heard the Commander. Now he was worried they’d done something. He needed to call Linda and quick.

  ****

  “They want us to what?”

  “They want us to take the equipment back to the place in North Carolina where the remains were found and look for a rucksack.”

  “One that has been on the ground and hit by wind, rain, snow, and everything in between for fifteen years.”

  Holden had risen from the bed for his tirade but laid back as soon as he was finished. The strength had zapped out of him. He couldn’t believe a little drink combined with his medication would do that to him. Now he knew why they’d said no alcohol.

  He certainly never intended for it to happen again.

  “I think our equipment can handle it.”

  “Well, I don’t think it can.”

  “Holden,” Linda settled next to him on the bed, “we need to do this. Blake has sent Ericka and Greg onto an airborne base.”

  “He what?”

  “Greg said that Ericka wasn’t supposed to be there. They are working her just like she is in airborne school.”

  “B-but, does she know how to do that stuff?”

  “She’s making it so far, but we don’t have much time. Between Director Manis’ two-week window and now the fact that they are making Ericka jump out of planes, we need to discover the identity of this soldier before anything else bad happens.”

  Holden knew that Linda was correct. Perhaps the equipment could find it. They had stopped searching when they found the bones. They would have to expand their reach as well. Even if there had been files in the bag it would have been destroyed.

  This was a fool’s errand. A ghost chase. He just wanted to lay in the bed and do nothing and he was going to have to traipse through the woods looking for a canvas bag that was fifteen years old. Sounded like a great use of their time.

  “What a minute? Who is in charge of this operation?”

  Linda looked at her hands but didn’t answer.

  “Linda…”

  “Fine, my ex-husband.”

  “Your ex-husband…” He could feel the words come from his mouth slowly.

  “Yes, Blake Hager.”

  “I don’t understand how that happened.”

  “Neither do I. I called in for direction and he was the one who answered and told me the plan.”

  “Was that the plan that drugged me and almost killed me?”

  “It was.”

  Holden rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He would say he would get even, but that wasn’t how people were supposed to act. He was sure with the kind of attitude that man had to have that he would get his in the end anyway.

  No, Holden had other things he needed to do.

  “First thing in the morning we head out.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Holden didn’t know if he would be, but he would make it work one way or the other.

  Chapter Twelve

  Before Greg left, he walked to Commander Whitney’s office. “Sir?”

  “Yes?”

  “Have you ever heard of Chopin?”

  “The composer or the call sign for one of our men?”

  “The call sign.” Greg held his breath. Maybe he was on to something, finally.

  “Yeah. Chopin was a great jumper. Then he just disappeared about fifteen years ago.” He paused and leaned back in his chair. “Wait, you don’t think that Chopin is the one that you’re looking for.”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “He was a legend. He’d done more jumps than most instructors. He’d jumped into enemy territory during live fire. He was still in the active military, but he would come and train with some of our recruits. We were lucky to have him.”

  If Chopin was the one they were looking for then all the prior injuries would make perfect sense.

  “May I ask what happened to him? I heard a rumor that he tried to steal something from the base, and his rucksack took him down.”

  “The new recruits come up with a new story every year. When I first started working here, they said he ran away with a girl.” The Commander looked at his desk and shuffled papers around.

  “Do you have his military records? Maybe if I compared his file to the bones we found then we would know.”

  “Know what?” The Commander lifted his head.

  “If it was really him that died.” Greg couldn’t understand why this was a question.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  Greg was really confused. The Commander had told Vetter to give him whatever he needed or wanted but he wouldn’t do this?

  “I can’t have Chopin’s memory tarnished.” The Commander leaned back in his chair.

  “I have no intention of tarnishing a memory. I’m searching for the truth.”

  “Sure, you are. Just like all the other officers who come through here looking for the ‘truth’ about the base. Do you think you’re the first one to go on a witch hunt?” The Commander flung his arms back and forth in front of him to punctuate his words.

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “Well, let’s see. While you’re here searching you have officers working with the local police as well to take us down.”

  “Take you down? Where are you getting this information?”

  “Your director forced us to put someone in the group that hasn’t had but a handful of jumps. And you’re going through the files and asking questions of people outside this office. What did you think it would look like? What did you think would happen?”

  “I thought I was trying to find out the soldier who died in a jump so that I could identify his body and tell his family. They might like to know what happened to their child.”

  “Well, if it was Chopin then don’t bother. His family was informed long ago.”

  “Of what?”

  “That he was MIA.”

  Greg opened his mouth but shut it just as quickly. He didn’t say bye or may I be excused; he just left the room and went back to the files. Chopin wouldn’t be in what was sent over. And now whoever that soldier was was the only person he wanted to know about.

  The one person on the planet that might be able to figure it out was Quinn. He’d heard about punishment for getting caught on the phone before Friday. He didn’t mind the extra run. And he didn’t care if everyone was mad at him.

  He walked toward the front desk. Cass was still in the office with the files. No time like the present to break the rules.

  ****

  Quinn’s phone went off in his back pocket as he lifted one end of the couch. He let a hand go and felt for the device.

  “What are you doing?” Tristan grunted and shifted his weight.

  “I need to answer my phone.”

  “Now?”

  Maggie raced over and dug it out of Quinn’s back pocket. She answered, “Quinn’s phone.”

  Maggie kept nodding her head. Her expressions didn’t look promising. Then she just let her shoulders sag. She grabbed her forehead and shook it. All the while he stood still and waited. Tristan didn’t act happy, but he was technically always on the clock. Why didn’t people get that?

  “Can we move this couch, please?”

  Quinn took a step backward, but very slowly. He was in no hurry to bury himself in the truck where he couldn’t hear.

  Maggie waved them on. Quinn rolled his eyes and moved the couch. Once he put it down in the right spot he jogged back to Maggie, and she handed him the phone with no current call.

  “Who was it?”

  “Greg. You need to get to a computer. Now.”

  He went back inside the house. Tristan’s parents had given them each a bedroom to stay in. The house was huge, especially for two people. He sort of understood why they would want to move into something smaller if none of the kids were coming back.

  In his room, he grabbed his computer bag and brought it back to the porch. Maggie was carrying smaller boxes to the van. Tristan had been correct that they were going to have an issue fitting everything inside the vehicle.

  Maggie had assured him that Tristan wouldn’t have that much to move. That must have been before Tristan realized that everything he ever owned had to come out.

  He took a seat in a rocking chair and opened his laptop on his lap. “What am I looking for?”

  “Chopin.”

  “The composer?”

  “No. It’s a call sign for a soldier. Greg needs his real name. Also, any injuries he might have sustained.”

  “Does he think that is the soldier that died?”

  “He does. It is also his best and only lead.”

  “When is he calling back?”

  “No idea. He got caught on the phone and now his whole group has to run ten miles. They already did a ten-mile ruck today.”

  Quinn groaned. Greg had just made some enemies. Right now, he needed friends.

  He typed in the name Chopin. Lots about the composer, a few blog posts about a soldier.

  Quinn skimmed the words of a blog. The soldier mentioned had been highly decorated but had been gathering information on a certain base and their practices. Each post shared more about the soldier. One of the posts explained how Chopin had been preparing to blow the roof of the entire operation at an unspecified base.

  He sent an email link and text link to Greg, hopefully he would get one of them. The only problem was that a blog could be argued as someone just talking. They needed to find the person who wrote the blog.

  He clicked the About Me link. The blog had been written by a woman around twenty-five. She claimed to be Chopin’s sister. And she was only about thirty miles away from Quinn’s current location. At least according to her blog.

  Quinn filled in the contact form and went to close the computer when a reply came through.

  He responded again.

  She responded.

  He bit the inside of his mouth. They needed to meet with her, but they had a full load of stuff. Maybe he could take the truck to meet her.

  Computer under his arm, he jumped from the porch. “Hey, Tristan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I borrow your truck for a few hours?”

  “Can you borrow my truck…”

  “Let him. We have lots to pack. He’s doing something for Greg.”

  “But we need to load it.”

  “There is room in the van. We can do it first.”

  Tristan sighed. “You will protect it, right?”

  “I will.”

  Tristian walked closer and handed over the keys. “Don’t take too long, all right?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Quinn strolled to the truck and climbed behind the wheel. The motor fired up and he enjoyed the feel of the power. He might need to get him a truck. His car had power, but nothing like this. The truck almost shook with the force of it.

  The address in the GPS, he pulled out of the front of the house and headed toward the main road. He hoped what he was doing wasn’t a mistake or a waste of time. Time was the one thing they didn’t have to waste.

  ****

  Tito looked at his phone. Linda had texted that they were being called away in the morning to look for a rucksack. All of this was news to him.

  He dialed her number.

  “Hello?”

  “Linda, it’s Tito.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was napping. Yes, we have to go back to where we found the bones and look for a really old bag.”

  “Why?”

  “I think that Greg might have found the soldier and his reason for disappearing all those years ago. But the proof of that will be in the bag.”

  “We’ve been going through files all afternoon, now you guys are telling us this.”

  “We haven’t known that long.”

  Long enough to take a nap, but he wouldn’t comment on that.

  “Just wrap it up and come back. We’ll go for supper and discuss a strategy. I’ll need you and Burle to help with the equipment or we’ll be there forever. My crew is only so big, and I don’t think they will make it by tomorrow. So, we’ll get started and they can come in and finish up.”

  “Sure.”

  A few more pleasantries and Tito hung up and went to Burle. He’d moved away from the boxes and the storage unit.

  “Please tell me we are leaving here.”

  “We are.”

  “What about the boxes?”

  “I don’t know if I care.”

  “Don’t you think we should put them back?”

  “I think I’ll let the guard decide.”

  Right then a guard walked around the corner. She was wearing a tight company uniform. A pink wad of gum came from her mouth in a round bubble. “You leavin’?”

  “We are.”

  “What about those boxes?”

  “We’re done with them.”

  “All right.” The guard walked past swinging a club by her side.

  Tito looked at her from behind.

  “You can’t do it, can you?”

  “Nope.”

  Tito picked up the boxes and restacked them in the storage unit without breathing. Once he was done, he removed his over shirt and wore his undershirt. When they got back to the hotel, he would be taking a shower immediately.

  “What did you find out on the phone call?”

  He’d forgotten that he hadn’t told Burle. “That in the morning we’re going to go traipsing through a forest.”

  “Fantastic. At least I have allergy medicine in my suitcase at the hotel.”

  “At least.”

  They drove back to the hotel. Once there Tito took a quick shower. Burle was in the room sneezing one right after another. When Tito stepped out of the bathroom, Burle went in. He sneezed during his shower as well. When he finished and opened the bathroom door, steam rolled out in a fog that covered the entire room.

  Burle drew in a deep breath and breathed out. “That feels a little better.”

  “I’d hope so. It’s like a sauna in here now.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Let’s go meet Holden and Linda for dinner. Maybe we’ll find out more.”

  “Let’s hope so. Longest two weeks of my life. I can’t wait to get back to New York. There are too many things blooming here that I can’t be around.”

  Tito could have commented that he noticed, but he kept it to himself as they left the room and locked the door. He seriously hoped that Linda had more information than just go to the woods and look for a fifteen-year-old canvas bag. That would be like a needle in a haystack. He was tired of those kinds of jobs. Seriously, tired.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ericka and the other female recruits sat on the porch of the kitchen and enjoyed the cool afternoon air. The men ran past.

  “Why are they running again?”

  “One of them got caught on the phone.”

  Ericka swallowed. Greg had gotten the message and had decided he needed to use the phone. He must have felt it was super important to risk making the entire troop hate him.

  “Ross is so hot!”

  “Celina!”

  “Well, I can’t help it. He is.” Celina licked her lips and made yum noises.

  The other ladies snickered behind their hands. Ericka felt like she was back in grade school. Celina was right that Ross Vetter was the one of the hottest things on two legs, but to say it where his sister, their own Staff Sergeant might hear, didn’t sound safe.

  “What about Dave? He’s not bad looking.”

  “Pshaw. Dave. I’ve seen better things in my ditch at home in Louisiana.”

  Celina’s comment sent the others into fits of hysterical laughter. Nina didn’t seem to like it.

  “Are you comparing him to a crawdad?”

  “I could be.” Celina twisted her head to the side and blinked her eyelids rapidly with a don’t care attitude.

  “Sherry, what do you think? You dated Dave.”

  Sherry had shrunk back from the group until she was almost on the other side of the porch. “Well, um, I—”

  “The point is she stopped dating him. Now if you want to run out and date the crawdad, go for it. I’m sure he is nice. But there is more to it than being nice.”

  “And there is more to it than being good-looking.” Cassandra, the private that worked in the main office, came out of the kitchen and stopped behind them.

  Celina jumped to her feet and saluted. The rest followed suit. Ericka had no idea why, they all held the same rank, but she followed along just in case she was missing something.

  “At ease. I need to speak with Private Stein.”

  “Of course.” Celina acted like it was her place to give permission.

  Ericka went along with it again and followed Cassandra to the office. Once they were behind closed doors, Cassandra began to speak.

  “Private Kane used the phone.”

  “I gathered.”

  “He believes that Chopin, a legend here, stole secret files and died trying to get away with them.”

  All the information that she had given him. So, he believed her and must have had a way to confirm it. “And?”

  “And this is going to cause trouble. Commander Whitney was not happy when Greg took him the information.”

  “I see.” She paused. “What happens now?”

  “I’ve put in a call for help. I honestly don’t know what will happen.”

  “Thank you for the heads up.”