Page 100 of When the Silence Breaks

She looked at Malcolm. She had one burning question. “Why?”

He released a tired laugh. Sharp with failure. Resentment.

“You mentored me,” Sarah said. “You meant something to me. I trusted you.”

“You’re not the only one with a ghost up on that mountain.” He spat out the words.

“What do you mean? Help me to understand.” She tried to speak in a soft, unantagonizing tone, though every cell in her body wanted to rail at him.

“My entire life has been about this moment. This ... this operation was the entire reason I went into the CIA.” He coughed. “My mother was a little girl when her father left and never came home.”

And now she started to see a pattern, a terrible truth unfolding. “Your grandfather was on that plane?”

“He was an OSS handler.”

“Just so we’re clear, you mean the OSS, as in the precursor to the CIA?”

“With a German scientist in tow. A special cargo nobody wanted to admit existed. My grandmotherknewbecause my grandfather told her the secrets. But you don’t talk about those things. You lock them away. She raised her daughter under the weight of silence.”

“Are you talking about Operation Paperclip, a project to recruit German scientists to work in the US?”

“This was the predecessor to that project.”

“And this is why you joined the CIA?”

“My family carried the burden of it, and early on I made the decision to work for the intelligence sector. I thought ... that if I got close enough, dug deep enough, I’d understand what happened and bring closure to the family. I wanted ... I needed him to be a hero.” He hung his head.

For a second—a half a breath—she didn’t see the man who had betrayed and manipulated her, endangered her son, killed her brother, but instead she saw a young boy sitting on the floor and wondering why his grandfather never made it home. Why his mother was sad, and his father ... he hadn’t mentioned him. Sarah wouldn’t bring him up.

Realization hit her. She couldn’t breathe. “I ... I was part of your plan. I was ... you used me like I was your asset to gather intelligence from me. You knew ... youknewwhomy grandfather was the entire time. Because you didn’t know where the plane had crashed. You must even have a manifest and know his real name. Why keep this from me? You could have told me. This could have ended so differently.”

“I didn’t know, Sarah. Your brother popped up on our radar a long time ago. He might have been searching longer than you knew, triggering those who wanted the secret buried to keep a watchful eye on him. Then you ended up CIA, so I pulled you into my department early on ... just in case. But it doesn’t matter now. Neither of us could have changed a thing. We were both drowning in it, Sarah. You just managed to swim for shore. Oh...” He winced, the raw edge of regret flashing in his tone. “I didn’t mean that in reference to your brother.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“You did the right thing, getting out for your son. But when you got out, then Tessa was in—I needed someone close to one of you, and she was already working with your brother.”

Sarah wasn’t sure she could stomach more of this. “Why then, in the outfitter’s shop, did you warn me if you sought the location all along?”

Eyes closed, he shook his head. “Maybe I had a change of heart and wanted to give you the chance, but deep inside, I knew you wouldn’t take it. I knew that me prodding you, warning you, would only make you more determined.” His eyes flashed open and stared at her.

Nausea erupted, and she wanted to look away, but she held her ground.

“When he’s old enough, tell your son to walk away. Don’t carry this forward.”

You sick man.“Why would anyone carry this mess you’ve made forward?”

“It’s never just one mission, Sarah. Never just one mistake.”Malcolm glanced out the door beyond her and gestured like he was done with the conversation.

Not so fast. Sarah was done withhim. “Goodbye, Malcolm.” And she got out before anyone approached, then stood next to the vehicle, the weight of old grief, old wars, pressing down on her. She almost regretted the conversation with Malcolm, but now she understood far more than she could have guessed or learned on her own.

Holt pursed his lips and offered a sympathetic look as he shut the vehicle door. “I’ve arranged a ride for you and Ryder.”

“Thank you. And thanks for letting me have two minutes with him.”

“It was three, and you’re welcome.” Holt walked around to the driver’s side.

She slowly approached Ryder, who waited a few paces away by another SUV, watching her. His sturdy form reassured her that she was alive and would survive long enough to hold her son again.