Chapter 9 - A Ghost With an Office
“Pierce is alive,” Daniel said, staring at the memo.
Andrew was already searching the company's directory. There was no Owen Pierce listed, but a consulting firm named P-17 Strategic Solutions had billed Hale Defense millions over seven years. Its registered agent was a law office two blocks from the company's headquarters.
Daniel remembered Pierce standing beneath the glare of a field lamp, too clean for a man heading into enemy territory. He'd kept checking his watch. He'd never asked how the soldiers felt about the assignment.
“Pierce arranged the convoy,” Daniel said. “He knew the risk and disappeared before the blast.”
Andrew pulled payment records provided by Ruth. One transfer had gone out the day after the gala. The destination was a private hangar at a regional airport.
Elena joined them by secure video call. Sophie slept on the couch behind her. “If you go chasing him, you'll get yourselves killed.”
“We give the location to investigators,” Andrew said. “We don't play heroes.”
Daniel nodded. He'd spent nine years mistaking recklessness for courage. That morning the nurse had reminded him what it meant to get home alive.
Agents arrived at the hangar before sunset. Pierce wasn't there, but there were fresh tire tracks beside a plane that had been fueled for an international flight. A maintenance worker provided a description of the passenger who'd left two hours earlier: gray hair, heavy black coat, limp in his right leg.
Daniel recognized the limp. Pierce had broken his ankle days before the convoy and claimed he was cleared to travel.
The agents secured flight plans and camera recordings. One shot showed Pierce carrying a metal briefcase. Another showed a woman walking beside him.
It was Ruth Calder.
Andrew confronted Ruth over the phone. She sounded almost bored.
“You had a chance to save yourself, Andrew. Your father offered it to you.”
“I thought you were helping.”
“I was giving you an opportunity to cooperate.”
Daniel took the phone. “Where's the briefcase?”
Ruth laughed softly. “Captain, you still don't understand. Your men weren't killed because a shipment went wrong.”
“Then why?”
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“Because one of them discovered who the shipment was meant for.”
The line went dead.
