Chapter 3 - A Name That Was Supposed to Stay Buried
For nine years, Mara Keene had answered to other names. Mrs. Bell at a truck stop. June for a small-town mechanic who paid cash. Nobody in her new life knew the sound of her real name.
Voss had just spoken it in front of half the base.
"You should've stayed dead," he told her.
Rourke stepped between them. "Major, you're going to explain what that means."
"She's an escaped detainee. A very dangerous one. Stand down and I'll take custody."
"Detainee from where?"
"Above your clearance."
"I'm the commanding officer here."
Voss's smile came back. "For another six minutes, maybe."
He reached for the pistol at his hip. Ranger lunged sideways, barking once. Torres pulled the leash tight, but the interruption gave Mara time to shove the glowing device into Rourke's palm.
"Tell him to check the back."
Rourke flipped it over. Three shallow lines had been scratched through a faded government inventory mark. The color drained from his face again.
"The Ridgeway convoy," he whispered.
"Your brother's convoy," Mara corrected.
Rourke grabbed her elbow. "My brother died on that road. Don't use him to save yourself."
"Thomas didn't die the way they told you."
Voss drew his pistol. Cole knocked a rolling equipment cart into his legs, and the shot buried itself in dirt. Torres yelled for everyone to get down. Mara seized the moment to pull Rourke behind a maintenance building.
"You don't know me," she said, breath hard now. "But Thomas knew me. We served together. On the night the convoy disappeared, he gave me this code and said one thing: 'If Daniel ever sees a red light, tell him I kept my promise.'"
Rourke looked like she'd punched him.
"He said that when we were kids," he murmured. "After I nearly drowned."
Behind them, Voss shouted, "Capture her alive!"
Mara glanced toward the kennel tunnels. "We have one chance to see what your brother left behind."
"Where?"
"In the last place they'd ever think to search."
A shot shattered the window above their heads. Mara shoved Rourke through the maintenance door.
Inside, taped to an old utility panel, someone had written two words in red marker:
May you like
SHE'S HERE.
THE RED LIGHT PROTOCOL
