“I’ve been looking for motive. If someone betrayed us—”
“If,” Dean reminded him. He still didn’t want to believe someone would do that. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that the Russians had known they were coming, and that someone on the inside had been able to warn Taylor. That ruled out a mistake on the platoon’s part and made the Russians having figured it out on their own unlikely. Possible, but unlikely. The easiest explanation was that someone on their side had betrayed them. But that was hard to accept. But the inescapable truth was that someone had wanted them dead, and they had to find out who and why before they surfaced. Not only because of the danger they might still be in, but also because it was easier to find out information when no one thought they were looking.
“If,” the LC acknowledged. “There had to be a reason. And for something like this, the reason would have to be pretty damned big.”
Dean agreed. Big enough to sacrifice an entire fucking platoon of Navy SEALs.
“I came up with four possibilities,” Taylor continued. “We saw something we shouldn’t have on a previous mission, revenge for something we’ve done—God knows we’ve pissed a lot of people off—espionage or money.”
“You think someone sold us out?”
“It’s one possibility. I’ve been researching everyone who knew where we were to see if I could find anything in their backgrounds that might be relevant.”
“No undercover Russian nationals?”
The LC gave a dry laugh. “Not so easy, I’m afraid. But did you know that Admiral Morrison’s wife filed for divorce recently? Apparently the rear admiral has an Internet gambling problem.”
“How did you find that out?”
“Social media. People really need to get a clue about privacy settings. The missus used her maiden name, but it wasn’t hard to track down her posts on various gambling anonymous sites. Apparently it’s bad, and they were in enormous debt. But around two months ago her posts stopped.”
Dean didn’t believe it. He’d known Ronald Morrison for too long. He’d been in charge of Group One when Dean joined. “Selling out an entire platoon of SEALs to Russia to cover gambling debts? That’s a huge stretch, and you know it.”
“I didn’t say otherwise. But it’s something.”
“And even more reason to contact Kate. She can help. She has resources and contacts that you and I don’t. She can clear up this mess in Scotland, and help find out whether there is something to what you’ve found out.” Dean paused. “Don’t you trust her?”
“Of course I trust her. But I don’t want her involved.”
Dean understood. He was trying to protect her. “Kate can take care of herself. She was married to Colt, for Christ’s sake.” He was beginning to recognize the silence. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Was Kate his person on the inside? Taylor had sworn she wasn’t.
“She’s dead.”
“Who’s dead?”
“The person who sent me the text.”
Dean’s stomach sank. Fuck. “When? How?”
“A few days after the missile.”
“And you didn’t fucking say anything? How could you keep something like that to yourself?”
Silence for a moment. Then, “It’s complicated.”
Dean was furious. It sure as hell was. This put an entirely new spin on everything; he finally understood why the LC was so certain that they’d been betrayed. “What the hell else are you holding back?”
“Nothing.”
“You going to tell me who this woman was?”
Pause. “It isn’t important now.”
There was something in his voice that stopped Dean from pressing. For now. “We need help, Scott. Someone we can trust. If there’s someone you trust more than Kate—”
“There isn’t. Fine. You win. I’ll call her. You happy now?”
