Colonel Reed flipped open the folder lying in front of him. Dr. Marwood had sent him a copy of it.
“It says, ‘I know more than I’m supposed to.’”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Vance asked, not looking happy.
The colonel sighed. “Again, I don’t know.”
Vance swore under his breath and dragged a hand across his mouth.
“Look, we at least know this much.” Neal started. “Whoever sent it is in the area or was recently. That doesn’t give us enough to move on directly, and it sure as hell doesn’t give us enough to start poking at old files and drawing attention where we don’t want it. For now, we wait and keep our eyes and ears open. If one of them reached out to Marwood, there’s a reason. Maybe he will contact him again. Or maybe he shows himself. Either way, this was a start.”
Vance frowned. “That’s it? We just sit on it?”
“For now. Yes,” the colonel said, looking displeased with Vance’s attitude.
Vance let out a disbelieving breath. “Sir, if one of those men is unstable and he’s resurfacing now, sitting on it feels like a hell of a gamble.”
Colonel Reed met his stare. “And going hunting without enough to go on is worse.” He let that sit for a second, then added, “We don’t even know whether the sender is trying to warn Marwood, threaten him, or drag us all back into something that should’ve stayed buried. Until we know more, we keep this contained.”
“If he’s local, he won’t stay invisible forever,” Rickard added.
“No, he won’t,” Colonel Reed agreed.
He pushed back from the table. “That’s all for now. Keep your ears open, keep your mouth shut, and if you hear anything, come to me first.” His gaze moved between them, making sure the point landed. “I’ll be in touch if Marwood calls again or if anything else surfaces.”
One by one, they stood. Chairs scraped softly across the floor. Then one by one, they all filed out of the conference room.
???
As soon as the meeting was over, a call was placed. It wasn’t made from inside the building. It came a few minutes later, from inside a vehicle parked far enough from the building to avoid attention.
After three rings, a rough voice answered.
“Yeah.”
“Mortis, this is Talon,” the caller said, using code names they used when they served together early in their careers.
“Talon…it’s been a while. What can I help you with?”
“Are you still in the San Diego area?”
“Maybe.”
The caller’s lips twitched faintly. Typical answer for a hitman. The man never gave specifics. But that was why the caller had used him before. He was reliable, efficient, invisible, and most importantly, he didn’t leave any loose ends.
“I’ve got a situation that might require your services.”
“I’m listening.”
“There’s an individual who may have resurfaced. Someone who should not be drawing attention.”
“And you want him persuaded to stay quiet?” the voice asked mildly.
“I want the situation resolved.”
The man on the other end didn’t need clarification.
“What’s the timeline?”
