As much as Rome wanted to walk over to Stina, pull her out of the seat and cradle her in his lap, he couldn’t.
He was too full of adrenaline and rage. So he stood at the back with his arms folded to keep from smashing his fist into the concrete wall. As he listened to every word, his jaw locked tighter until it began to ache.
Then Jolie got to the part about their fallen teammate.
She told Cannon how Rivers went down in the snow with blood pouring through his fingers while the kidnapper came out of the trees and forced them to the SUV at gunpoint. The bastard shoved them into the back seat before they could do anything except look back and hope Rivers was still alive.
Cannon nodded slowly.
Stina’s expression worked as she battled tears, and Rome uncurled his fists and rushed to stand behind her.
She sucked in a breath when he rested his hands on her shoulders.
“He killed Rivers.” Her voice wobbled, and she gave a loud sniff.
“He wounded Rivers,” Rome corrected.
She went still.
“He’s alive, Stina. He’s still fighting.”
The whole room let out a breath. Cannon closed his eyes briefly. O leaned back in his chair, and Monk pressed his fist against his mouth.
Her hand came up to cover her mouth and shook there for just a second. Jolie reached for her at the same moment and they grabbed each other and held on.
It hit Rome square in the chest, and he damn near lost it.
Rome’s throat was so tight he had to look away. When he looked back, Stina’s eyes were bright but dry, her jaw set, back in it.
“Okay.” Her voice came out thick. “Good. Okay.”
Rome cleared his throat. “Let’s discuss the channel issue.”
Cannon gave a hard nod. “Nobody in Sierra uses regular command, you hear me? Not for anything related to this operation, not for anything related to these women, not for anything atalluntil we know how deep the compromise goes.” He looked around the table. “Dante’s channel only. Blackout exclusive. If it doesn’t come through that line, it doesn’t exist.”
“Which brings us to our guy.” Cannon’s body snapped with tension. “He knew we’d been pulled off the mountain.”
“Or was responsible for the bogus command.” Monk barely got the words out through his clenched teeth.
Cannon’s nostrils flared—the closest he ever got to demonstrating fury. “He knew the base location, or close enough to it. He knew the secure channel well enough to send a command through it that looked legitimate.” He looked at each of them. “He knows the Blackout network.”
No one argued.
“That’s not civilian knowledge,” Younger said from the end of the table.
“No.” Rome gripped the back of Stina’s chair hard. “It’s not.”
“He’s gotta be government,” O said. He hadn’t spoken since the debrief started. He had the look of a man who had been building something in his head while everyone else talked. “Has to be military, FBI, CIA—someone with access deep enough to know Blackout exists and shallow enough to still be hunting for what Jolie and Stina know.”
Rome locked stares with Monk. “Which must be the identity of the guy using the voice modulator.”
“Or someone who used to have access.” Rorke’s gaze stayed on the table. “The dangerous ones aren’t the people who know too much.” He looked up. “They’re the ones who know just enough.”
“Either way,” Cannon said, “we’re looking at an insider. Current or former.” He looked at O. “Cross-reference the profile we’ve built against anyone with access to the regular channel. Anyone who could have known the network well enough to spoof a command through it.”
O nodded once and pulled his laptop toward him.
Rome looked at Stina. She was listening, absorbing, her eyes moving between faces as the conversation built around her.
