The obvious suspect was often obvious because someone wanted you looking at him.
I studied the roster again.
“Does the team know the objective?”
“No.”
“Destination?”
“No.”
“Vale?”
“No.”
“Helix?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good.”
Mercer stood.
“Your transport departs in thirty-eight minutes.”
“Where?”
“Whidbey first. After that, airborne briefing.”
I closed the folder.
“And Cole?”
“You can remove him.”
I thought about the lounge.
His arrogance.
His grip on my hoodie.
His laugh.
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Every instinct of pride told me to send him back to his unit.
Pride is expensive in covert operations.
So I ignored it.
“No.”
Mercer studied me.
“You’re keeping him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone wanted him removed from the mission, what happened outside would be a convenient way to make that happen.”
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Mercer smiled slightly.
“That’s why you’re leading.”
“Don’t flatter me.”
“I wasn’t.”
The conference door opened after the security lock disengaged.
Cole stood outside.
Precisely on time.
His posture was perfect now.
“Chief. Reporting as ordered.”
I walked past him.
“Follow me.”
He did.
We moved through a restricted corridor toward the military departure section.
For nearly a minute, he said nothing.
That was probably painful for him.
