Seeing Kate’s increasingly annoyed expression, he was glad when the general asked, “Have you found out anything else about what happened to Retiarius? Any proof that the missile the Russians claimed was a test was actually directed at them?”
Colt exchanged a glance with Kate. Apparently the silent communication thing was still intact, as she understood that he would leave what they shared up to her.
“Not directly,” Kate said. “But we thought we might have a lead in how the mission was compromised.”
“You mean how the platoon was detected by the Russians?” the general asked.
Kate shook her head. “I don’t think they were detected.”
Murray understood what she meant right away. “You think they were betrayed?”
“You don’t sound surprised,” Colt said.
The general gave him a hard, don’t-piss-me-off glare. “I’ve been in this business too long to not have considered every angle, including espionage or an inside job from one of our own.” He turned back to Kate. “What did you find?”
“I assume you’ve heard about Rear Admiral Morrison’s death?” Kate said gently, aware that the two men were friends.
He nodded somberly. “I was informed yesterday.” Realizing where she was going, he said adamantly, “His suicide had nothing to do with this.”
“He was in debt,” Colt said. “Lots of debt.”
Murray’s glare in his direction grew darker. “I know.”
“You did?” Kate asked, clearly surprised.
“A few people in command have been aware of his gambling problem for some time. Measures were taken.”
Colt knew what that meant. Morrison would have been watched and probably compartmentalized. Meaning he wouldn’t have been given sensitive information until it was need-to-know. Probably at the last minute for this op.
Kate must have realized what it meant as well and couldn’t hide her relief. Colt knew the timing of their visit to Morrison had been weighing on her. They hadn’t put a gun to his head; he’d done that on his own. But she clearly hadn’t seen it that way.
It was a good thing she didn’t do fieldwork. Guilt didn’t fit into the job description.
“If you were thinking that he sold the platoon out for money, you are way off base,” the general said. “Ron killed himself because he was more than two hundred grand inthe hole and just lost the only money he had left in the bank on a ‘can’t miss’ bet that—no surprise—missed.”
“We went to see him that afternoon,” Kate said. “To question him about Retiarius.”
The general swore. “You should have told me.” He gave Colt a look that told him whom he blamed. “The police will want to talk to you, but I’ll see what I can do to put them off for a while.”
Something is going on here, Colt thought. The wily bastard knew more than he was saying. Not that Colt blamed him. He wouldn’t share more than he had to with the general—or anyone, for that matter.
“If Morrison didn’t do it, then who did?” Colt asked him.
“I don’t know.”
Colt kept him pinned with his gaze. “But you suspect someone.”
The general shrugged. “It’s nothing I can prove.”
He had their attention.
“But...?” Kate prompted.
“But when I was going through the list of people who might have had access to the classified information, one name stuck out.”
“Why?” Colt asked.
“Because she was killed in a car crash right after the platoon went missing.” Colt didn’t want to turn his eyes from the general, but Kate seemed to have gone rigid beside him. “I knew her and liked her. She worked for the Deputy Secretary of Defense, but he relied on her as if it were the other way around. I wondered whether they were having an affair. She was an extremely beautiful woman.”
