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“Dave Johnson definitely did not die in Afghanistan,” Quinn said. “He’s alive and pretending to be someone else.”
“And he’s not the only one,” Cole said, his voice near a growl.
“Right! Joseph Cates was also listed among the missing after that ambush and was presumed dead,” Gidget took up the story, changing the screen to show another man in a neat, formal uniform. “He’s also working at Clayborne under the name of Brent Wilder.” A new picture appeared on the screen next to the military picture. Again, it was the same man but with a new haircut and beard.
“What the fuck?” JB said under his breath. “I…I don’t get it. How are they alive? And living under new identities?”
Rowe had a feeling he knew the reason, and it was an ugly one that made his blood boil. “What about the third guy that was taken prisoner in the Afghanistan ambush?”
“We figured you’d ask that,” Gidget murmured. The image on the tablet changed to a military picture of an older man. “He doesn’t match anyone we could find associated with Clayborne Security. Cole ran his picture against some other databases. He turned up as a dead John Doe about two years ago in Pensacola, Florida.”
Rowe looked over at Noah and JB, who were frowning.
“So, he works with Dave and Joseph, but maybe had a falling out with the other guys?” JB started.
“Or maybe just a falling out with Dave’s brother,” Noah added. “Erik decides to silence the guy rather than risk him telling the wrong people about what he did.”
Rowe grunted. “Seems likely. This group has already killed twice to protect their secret. I wouldn’t put it past them to kill one of their own.”
“How does Erik figure into all of this?” JB asked. He shifted to the edge of the cushion, leaning closer as if to pick up some extra detail from the tablet. Rowe noticed the man rubbing the fingers of his right hand together as if a growing anxiety were making it hard to sit still. “When we talked to Jeff, he said Erik was the one calling all the shots.”
“Erik Johnson is Dave Johnson’s older brother. There isn’t a lot about him. He was dishonorably discharged from the Marines about fifteen years ago and spent several years working as a mercenary, we think. Spent three years in prison on assault charges. We’ve got a wide gap of time where we can’t find anything on him, but then about three years ago, he started Clayborne Security.”
“Can you tell if Clayborne is actually operating as a real company or if it’s simply a shell?” Noah asked.
“Not yet,” Quinn replied. “We’re still digging. The company roster was largely pieced together through a variety of social media, company data, and networking algorithms. Their security looks to be pretty tight.”
“Track down Joseph Cates’s address,” Noah said.
“I also want you to dig deep on Erik. Pull a list of known associates, particularly during his mercenary years. Anyone he was known to work or travel with,” Rowe added.
“You want me to also highlight anyone who might be in the Alexandria area today?”
“That’s my girl,” Rowe said with a grin. Gidget could always read his mind.
“Anything else?”
“I want to know what happened to the weapons taken in the Afghanistan ambush,” Noah said, his voice hardening, and something inside of Rowe’s chest hurt. His lover’s mind was following the same track as Rowe’s, and it was leading to a very dark and ugly place. He didn’t want to think any soldier was capable of such a betrayal, but the pieces were lining up too neatly for it to mean anything else.
There was silence on the line for a moment, and Rowe could easily imagine the triplets looking at each other, nonverbally communicating in a way that was a little eerie. Though it probably shouldn’t have been. Those three had been working closely for months now, and Rowe had seen his own security agents develop the same type of silent communications from years of working together.
“We’ll try very hard,” Quinn said slowly. “That information is going to be stuff the government has closely guarded.”
“Understood,” Rowe said. In the back of his mind, he started running through the list of contacts he’d maintained over the years. Which thread could he pull now to quietly get the information that he wanted? It was just lucky they were in DC. He could pay a very personal visit if he needed to. “Keep us posted if you learn anything else. And get some sleep.”
“Thanks, Boss,” the triplets called out before Noah ended the call.
Rowe looked over at his lover to find his face pale and his hands balled into tight fists in his lap. JB didn’t appear to be faring much better. His bright-blue eyes had taken on a dazed cast, and he kept rubbing his mouth as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
