The colonel’s gaze returned to the screen first.
Chase shrugged and mouthed at Gray, “What?” He wagged his finger back and forth between father and daughter. “Pops?”
She mouthed, “Fuck off.”
Despite his mind needing to catch up to reality, he grinned at her, and she flipped him the finger before she turned her back and set her focus on the raw footage.
Since he’d already seen the live version, he watched her instead. Surprised when she gasped and stepped toward the screen, he checked the video for the reason.
There to capture an image of Wright, Chase had captured Sam Black, hands rapidly sighting a high-powered sniper rifle, and preparing to pull the trigger.
The video swung back to Gray in time to capture a bullet slamming against the rock wall a foot from her chest. The last images showed her pushing herself off the ledge and her free fall until she disappeared below the tree line.
The video ended, and the screen went blank.
“Holy fuck,” somebody said.
Chase didn’t have attention to spare for anyone but Gray. Staring at the screen, white as a sheet of paper, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. Hands trembling, she took off her watch and pried off the back cover with a fingernail, removing the MIA memory card from its hiding place.
She crossed the room and handed it to Jay. “Load this.” By now, she had everyone’s attention. A hundred thumbnail pictures spread across the big screen. “Scroll. There. Stop. Pull up that one and zoom in.”
Chase watched as a close-up of Sam Black filled the board. As if in a trance, she walked toward the man and touched the image with shaking fingers. Transfixed, they all watched as Gray turned to her father, a mixture of disbelief and cold fury in her eyes.
“Why the fuck is my dead brother shooting at me?”
Draggedinto her father’s office by his grip on her elbow, Gray couldn’t sit, stand, or settle. This was too much fuckery for one person to deal with, especially while sober. She didn’t know if she should be laughing or crying or drowning herself in the nearest bottle of hundred proof.
Overwhelmed by the sudden and unexpected resurrection of her brother, her brain stuttered on repeat.He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive.The bastard. She never wanted to kill anyone more.
Except maybe the colonel.
By the surprised reactions of her father’s unit, they hadn’t known about her—or Adam. But she only cared about one person anyway. “Who else knew about this?” Gray stopped pacing while her heart teetered on the verge of breaking.
The colonel sighed. “Your mother knew Adam was alive, Grace.”
A sob caught in her throat, and she squeezed her eyes tight to stop the flood of tears. Thank God. Her mother had known the truth before she died. Relief flooded her chest, turning her limbs to Jello.
Drained by the events of the last two days, she sank onto the couch. Head in her hands, she used her palms to swipe at the tears spilling over. “I want to talk to Adam.” She knew the colonel would refuse. He always refused her demands when it came to her brother.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible right now.”
“You said you spoke to him today. Why can’t I?” She dropped her arms and lifted her blurry gaze. Her father met her eyes, his look direct and unwavering. “Fine. When?”
“Maybe in a day or two, when things settle down.”
“What things?” Gray slammed her back against the couch. In consequence, her hip throbbed, and she sucked in a breath.
“Do you need to see a doctor?” her father asked, breaking into her latest mantra ofAdam’s alive.
“No. What I need is to talk to Adam. Since you won’t allow it, how about you tell me what the fuck he’s doing?”
“Where’s Snow?” Disregarding her question, the colonel raised his voice to summon whoever lurked out in the hallway.
No longer a walking advertisement forPlaygirl, a fully dressed Cody entered the room. “Sleeping, sir. He returned later than expected but had a look at Gray’s injury when she arrived.”
“We’ve already established it’s a bruise, dickhead. I’m not injured.”
“Which injury?” the colonel demanded.
