Page 102 of False Flag

“Do you mind?” he whispered.

She placed her hands over his and squeezed, making him pinch both nipples again.

It was his turn to laugh.

She scrolled through the emails, several of which Lloyd had sent to himself. They looked like screenshots from a message board. She studied the usernames and snippets of conversation.

Slowly, it dawned on her what she was reading.

She was going to be sick.

She typed another message in the notepad for Jake to read.

These are screenshots from the dark web. Pseudoarchaeology chats.

She paused, dropping her fingers from the keyboard. Unable to type the words.

Jake released her breasts and reached around her so he could type his response.

Lloyd was an Archaeology Truther.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Sleep eluded Jake. His body was a highly trained machine, honed to perfection. Usually, if he commanded his body to sleep, it followed orders.

But nothing about this op was normal, and he was in too deep emotionally. It had been a mistake to open himself up to Staci, not when grief was tearing him apart.

Lloyd.

His brother had been a fucking Truther. As vile as the rest of them. And he’d tried to recruit Jake to embrace the twisted dogma. Were they hoping he would bring his SEAL training to their attack planning sessions?

Anger almost eclipsed grief.

He figured he knew why Gerard wanted him on the expedition now. He’d need armed forces on his side as his anti-science and anti-intellectualism narrative pushed for acceptance, even normalization, of white supremacy in North America. The podcaster already held many of the two million active-duty and reserve members of the US armed forces and nearly eight hundred thousand Department of Defense civilians in thrall, but there was always room to grab more followers, and for many, seeing one of their own endorsing his fake history would be a gateway.

But perhaps even more important to Gerard, Casper, and even the vice president of the United States was Jake’s connections at NSWC and his ability to infect other SEALs with these beliefs. Special forces teams tended to be tight-knit, but also, team members shifted. SEALs changed teams and bases. Until a year ago, Jake was on a team based out of Coronado. He remained in touch with a few team members.

Jake probably would have told his teammates at Little Creek about the dinner he attended last December, except his OIC was engaged to an archaeologist. Subconsciously, Jake had known Diana, and therefore Chris, would disapprove, so he hadn’t said a word. It was a fluke that his team had built-in immunity to this particular brand of disinformation.

Jake was the absolute worst option for the job of military inside man, but Gerard—and Lloyd—couldn’t have known that.

But now, without Lloyd to draw him deeper and with Jake’s obvious and deepening relationship with Staci, their plan for keeping him on the team had proven flimsy. Whether she’d meant to or not, Dahlia had pointed out how weak his cover would be in the long run. Staci’s central moral core was at odds with Jake’s professed goal. No one would believe she’d continue to stand by him over time.

If their relationship was real, his beliefs would have to be fake.

If their relationship was fake, why would Staci play along?

Even the fool Casper could see Jake wouldn’t be their tool and had denied access to Lloyd’s mapping files.

If Jake wasn’t on the path to becoming a Truther in Lloyd’s memory, he was of no use to Gerard, which meant their plan wasn’t going to work. No one was going to trust him, and he didn’t have Teague’s technical skills to hack from the inside without Lloyd’s access.

No one would admit him into the Truther forums, and it was impossible for him to access them on his own while he was trapped here with only Osborne’s controlled internet to browse.

He was useless here.

Jake slid from the bed, careful not to wake Staci, and stepped into the giant walk-in closet to get dressed. A moment later, he left the room.

He moved silently through the house and out the front door, well aware his movements were being tracked by interior and exterior cameras. He wasn’t worried. A man who’d just lost his brother could prowl the house and grounds at night and blame his behavior on grief.