Page 105
Story: Lethal Deceit
Caleb’s frown grows even more before he yawns. “Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.”
Her mouth twists, and she pouts. “You’re right. I’ll leave the action to you guys. Speaking of, Silas wants me to fill you all in before I send this off to the FBI.” Her eyes scan the faces peering back at her, and she pulls a face. “Yikes. You all looked better in night-vision green.”
Caleb snorts. “We’ll wash the war paint off later. What did you want to tell us?”
She taps away, looking down at her screen before answering. “The data breach was bigger than I first thought. It wasn’t just one. There were two separate, but linked, attacks. What’s really bad is that the attackers were employees of WayBridge Government Solutions, a subcontracting company.”
A document flashes up on screen, and we all shift closer to examine it. “It’s a shell corporation. It doesn’t exist. But—and this is the kicker—it ties back to an American-owned company, and our nasty senator is a whopping great big stakeholder.”
That explains where they got the American weapons from. I’m sick to my stomach. Every single person who risked their lives today must be feeling the same level of betrayal I am.
Caleb’s phone rings, and he glances at it before answering me. “I’m not comfortable with handing Samantha over. She’s injured, and we need to get Ben involved.”
“Ben?”
He holds up a finger and presses the phone to his ear. “Where are you?”
Reese answers my question while Caleb steps away. “Ben Harrison. Hightower’s lawyer.”
I give him a nod of thanks and make small talk, all the while trying to keep one eye on the room Brooke disappeared into and one on the phone call Caleb is having.
Finally, he nods, shoulders sagging slightly. His gaze tracks the direction Brooke and Adena took Samantha, and he lets out a long sigh. “Done.” His eyes shift to Reese. “How soon can you get us in the air again?”
Reese steps toward the exit. “We can be wheels up in twenty. Fifteen if Verity helps me.”
I look at Caleb as concern starts to gather in my midsection. Last I heard, Samantha would receive medical treatment and we’d head straight to the local FBI field office. Something has changed, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.
“You think jerking the FBI around is a smart move?” I say to Caleb.
His eyes zero in on me, and there’s a glimmer in them I’m not sure I want to question. “At Hightower, we do it God’s way, or we don’t do it at all,” he says.
Samantha
It feels like déjà vu as I hobble into the room and find Alice—the same nurse who treated me earlier—waiting for me. To preserve what’s left of my dignity, she’s set up a privacy screen and laid out a cot with a clean gown.
I’m too sore and exhausted to protest, so I nod when Verity offers to help.
Like before, Alice moves with calm efficiency, directing Verity to ease me out of my soaking clothes and assist as she examines my injuries. Verity offers quiet smiles and winces while the nurse wipes away blood and has me lie down to check my abdomen. I dig my nails into my palms, bracing against the pain—afraid if I cry out, Mick will come rushing in.
Not that I’d mind seeing his face.
I’m wrecked—physically and emotionally. And the more time I spend around these women, the more confused I feel.
Adena is talking to Brooke on the other side of the room, checking if she’s okay. I try to follow their voices while Verity hovers nearby, her face drawn with concern. Alice shakes her head and murmurs to Verity, “Are they all dead?”
I blink, thinking I must’ve misheard.
“Mick left one alive for the FBI,” Verity replies quietly. “The other three are dead.”
There were two others? I never even saw them.
Alice shudders. “Thank the Lord you got to them in time.”
She glances at me and gives a soft smile. “God sent His angels with you for your first operation.”
I don’t argue. I don’t understand it, but for the first time in my life, I want it to be true. God is the only thing that makes sense. Two days ago, nothing—absolutely nothing—could’ve made me risk my life for anyone. Especially not strangers.
My throat tightens, and it’s not from being half-strangled. “What’s happening to me?”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105 (Reading here)
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111