Chapter 7 - The Shooter Behind the Flag
Training replaces panic with sequence.
Move.
Cover.
Count.
I pulled Margaret to the floor and pushed Judge Simmons behind the bench.
A second shot struck the wall.
Court deputies shouted commands.
Emergency lighting came on in dim red strips.
The steel box remained on the evidence table.
One encrypted drive was missing.
A figure moved behind the Virginia flag.
I crossed the distance before the nearest deputy reacted.
The shooter raised the weapon.
I drove my shoulder into his chest.
Pain exploded through my injured leg.
We hit the floor.
The gun slid beneath a bench.
He reached for a knife.
I trapped his wrist and struck his throat.
A deputy restrained him.
The entire struggle lasted six seconds.
My father remained beside the plaintiff table.
Too calm.
The shooter wore a courthouse maintenance uniform.
His identification named him as Paul Mercer.
Samuel stared at the face.
“That is Elias Grant’s son.”
The arms broker’s child.
My father had not hired a stranger.
He had activated an old alliance.
Judge Simmons ordered the building sealed.
The missing drive had been labeled BLACK FLIGHT.
It contained the full transport records for Carter aircraft during my final mission.
Paul Mercer refused to speak.
But his phone contained one outgoing message.
PACKAGE MOVED. SECOND LOCATION ACTIVE.
My father looked toward the doors.
Another copy existed.
Or another target.
I checked the evidence table.
The antique compass was gone too.
I remembered my grandfather teaching me navigation at Cedar Ridge.
He always said a compass did not show where you were.
It showed what you trusted.
Inside the lid was a tiny keyhole.
The key from the property file fit it.
I opened the compass.
A strip of microfilm curled beneath the glass.
Samuel whispered, “William never trusted digital evidence.”
The microfilm showed photographs of Robert meeting Elias Grant at a private airfield.
A third person stood between them.
Margaret.
I looked at my mother.
She went still.
“That isn’t what it looks like.”
Robert laughed from across the courtroom.
“Now we reach the truth.”
Margaret sat slowly.
“I met Elias once.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because your father told me you had been captured.”
Robert interrupted.
“I told her the only way to bring you home was to negotiate.”
She looked at me.
“He said Elias controlled the militia holding your team.”
My father had used her fear to involve her.
“What did he make you carry?”
“A sealed envelope.”
“Money?”
“I don’t know.”
The photograph showed her handing Elias a metal case.
The same dimensions as a tactical trigger system.
Margaret began shaking.
“I thought I was paying for your release.”
Robert smiled.
“You delivered the authorization device.”
She turned toward him.
“You said it was a transmitter.”
“It was.”
“For what?”
He leaned back.
May you like
“For the explosion.”
My mother had unknowingly carried the weapon used to kill my teammates.
