Duplicity (7 page)

Her blank legal pad mocked him. “Chemical canisters require a label. Either a yellow or a blue band around them. It’s a visual warning that they’re live ordnance, not training dummies.”

Absorbing his every nuance, she worried her lower lip with her teeth. “So you disregarded this canister because it lacked the label.”

“Right.” Adam stuffed a hand into his prison grays’ hip pocket and stared out the window. “I made it to my men.” A mountain of regret and cold rage tore loose inside him. He fisted his hand in his pocket to bury it. “They were all dead.”

Tracy paused. A thousand questions burned in her brain, but she refrained from asking even one of them. Burke needed a few minutes to regain control of his emotions. A blind man would realize he had been reliving the events as he described them.

He wouldn’t like her noticing the slight shake in his hand, or the tremble in his voice. But he would hate to realize that she’d seen beyond his anger at finding his men dead and into his pain. Could he be that good an actor? Could anyone be so utterly convincing at faking that kind of pain?

As a survivor, she couldn’t imagine it. But this wasn’t about her, or her emotional response to loss. It was about Burke. And only God knew what he was and wasn’t capable of faking.

She crossed her arms over her chest, not wanting to visualize the scene he had walked into out there. Not wanting to feel the shock she would have felt, the regret for the team, and for their families. For her, that would have been devastating. As devastating as learning Matthew had been legally drunk at the time of the accident, injuring her, killing himself, and Abby-a fact Paul, protecting her, hadn’t disclosed. She’d been torn apart by it, mortified, and nearly destroyed. And from the vibes radiating from Burke, this incident hadn’t been much easier on him.

When he appeared calmer, she urged him on. “Then what happened?”

“My men were dead, but they hadn’t been hit by the bomb. There wasn’t a mark on them. I figured whatever ‘killed them had to be biological or chemical, and I remembered the canister,” Adam said, clearly back in control. “I knew something way out of line had happened so I went back and buried the canister in a safe place.”

A safe place? Obviously he didn’t trust her enough to disclose the location. “Did being near the canister set off the chemical alarm?”

“Once it triggered, it stayed on. I reset it, but it kept triggering, so I can’t say if proximity to the canister had an effect.”

A shiver trickled through Tracy’s chest. If what Burke said proved accurate, then the canister had to be live. What else would trigger the alarm? And if the canister was live and Burke had received a radio response, then Home Base had known the operatives were in Area Fourteen. If true, then Burke wasn’t to blame, but the operatives’ deaths had been deliberate. That made this incident no accident. It made it murder. But not murder by Burke.

But that was impossible. She shuddered. Impossible!

Burke’s husky voice snagged her attention. “I passed out,” he said from between his teeth, as if disgusted that he had succumbed to human weakness. “O’Dell-someone-must have laced my oxygen with something.”

Convenient. And creative. “Why did you bury the canister?”

“I considered it prudent.”

Standing at the window, he angled a look back at her that betrayed him, speaking volumes more than his words. He’d buried it because he hadn’t yet tagged the enemy, or his allies.

“I don’t remember anything else until I woke up in the hospital. People were calling me a traitor, and accusing me of deserting my men.”

His resentment of that came through in his clipped tones, in the stiff posture of his broad shoulders. So did his confusion. Tracy didn’t trust it, or him. “Did you talk with anyone? Make any statement of any kind?”

“No, no official statements.”

“None?” She couldn’t hide her surprise. Surely the Military Police and agents from the Office of Special Investigations had attempted to gain statements from Burke. “Not even to the MPS or the OSI?”

“No,” he reiterated. “But Lieutenant Carver talked to me.”

“Who is Lieutenant Carver?”

“Colonel Hackett’s aide,” Adam said, reeking of his do-your-homework-Fluff attitude. “I’m told that my commander or his representative has to visit me at least once a month. Carver was it for August.”

So Burke had read the facility’s rule book. What wasn’t noted in it was that, while the prisoner’s commander or his representative did have to make monthly visits, his representative usually was a sergeant. “What did Carver say?”

“He lied. He said the team had been blown to hell and back by a bomb because I’d screwed up and led them onto an active bombing range. I saw their bodies. My men were not blown to bits. Their bodies were intact and unmarked.” Burke grimaced, dropping his eyelids to halfmast. “Carver also informed me that I was facing a courtmartial and a dishonorable discharge, and that the prosecutors would be seeking the death penalty.”

“Why didn’t you tell him about O’Dell’s orders, or about the canister?”

Burke snorted, sounding almost amused. “I tried telling the truth about O’Dell changing my orders early on at the hospital. They called me a damn liar and said O’Dell had been off-duty all day. He wasn’t, and Carver already had lied to me. Why waste my breath?”

Tracy puzzled through Burke’s rationale. “No. Not wasted breath. You stopped talking because Carver and O’Dell both work for Hackett,” she said, getting a fix on how Burke’s mind worked. “You didn’t know which side of the fence Carver sat on.” Enemy, or ally? When in doubt, shut up. She’d bet her bars that if asked, Janet would confirm silence as one of their Intel drills.

“That, too.” Burke’s eyes glinted approval. “Until I knew, the less said the better.”

Tracy resented liking his approval, even as she wished everything he had told her was true. Not for intimated multiple murders and a conspiracy, for God’s sake-but as a sign that Burke had proceeded in trust and good faith and that he was being sincere. But he wasn’t. Somewhere deep inside her, she knew Adam Burke was lying to her. “They say you deserted your men because you got lost and led them onto the bombing range instead of to Area Thirteen.”

“I wasn’t lost. I went to Area Fourteen because those were my orders. I left my men there because those were also my orders.”

“Are you proposing that this incident was a conspiracy which might, or might not, include Colonel Hackett and Lieutenant Carver, as well as Major O’Dell?”

Burke slid her a hooded glare. “I’m not proposing anything. I don’t know what the hell happened out there. All I know for fact is O’Dell issued me orders, and I followed them.”

Burke wanted to say more. Sensing it, she encouraged him to do it. “But … ?”

“But,” he said, then hesitated before going on. “Everything that has happened since then proves-at least, to my satisfaction-that I was set up to take a fall.”

He believed it, Tracy realized. Every word of it. Delusions?

Rationalization? He had to be suffering from one or the other. Could mental instability be her legal hook?

“Set up by whom? For what purpose?”

Hands in his hip pockets, Burke turned to look her straight in the face. “I have no idea.”

Her skepticism again surfaced.

He must have noted it because he grabbed the chair across from her, turned it around, and then straddled it, yanking the chains between his leg shackles tight. “I see your doubt. You don’t believe a word I’ve said.”

The absence of anger in his voice disturbed her. “You’re accusing respected, high-ranking officers of murder and conspiracy, Burke. I’d be crazy not to have doubts. Wouldn’t you?”

Adam frowned down at the table. A long moment passed, then he lifted his chin and met her gaze. “Look, you’re a beautiful woman, but I think you’re too young and idealistic to grasp how things work in the real world. I envy you your innocence-God, do I envy you your innocence-but I’d be a damn fool not to realize it could cost me my life. I need an attorney-”

“I’m your attorney.” Something flickered in her eyes. Her face bleached white and she slapped a hand to her neck as if her heart had jackknifed straight up into her throat. “Too young and idealistic? Who gave you access to my Personnel file?”

That had come from her file. Verbatim. Adam rolled his eyes back in his head. “For Christ’s sake, Keener. I’m in Intel.”

Her face flushed. She flattened her lips to a slash and her hands into fists. “I’m not buying into this. But if I were, do you believe O’Dell acted on his own, giving you the orders?”

Adam draped his hands over the back slats of the chair, dipped his chin, and met her cool gaze. “No, I don’t. Gus O’Dell doesn’t have the brass to pull something like this. He’d never risk stepping on Colonel Hackett’s toes.”

“So you believe Colonel Hackett is also involved in this conspiracy?”

“Yes, I do.”

Tracy stared at the bruises under Burke’s left eye. What had been purple now had faded to green. Weighing all he’d told her, she cringed at the implications. Murder. Conspiracy. It had to be lies. All lies.

If called down, would Burke admit the truth? She doubted it, but she had to give him the chance. “Is that it, then?”

Wary, he nodded, his expression tense.

Finally, the man had behaved as a typical defendant. No rationalization or justification, but he certainly had blamed someone else. Major Gus O’Dell-and, by implication, Colonel Hackett and possibly Lieutenant Carver.

Madness. Sheer madness. But oh, so typical, Burke’s becoming predictable pleased her, relieved her. So why did she feel this shaft of disappointment stab her in the chest?

Not wanting to explore that, she forced her mind back to Burke’s tale, to the plausibility of it. O’Dell? Maybe. Carver? Anyone’s guess. But Hackett? No way. Definitely a screw-up on Burke’s part, including Hackett in a conspiracy.

“Well.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I have to say that your story sounds wild and creative. Very imaginative.” She drew it! a deep breath and turned the tables on him, preparing for anything. “But it can’t be accurate.

Burke didn’t bat an eye. “It’s accurate.”

“I don’t think so.” She disputed him with a tap of her nail against the blank legal pad. “Colonel Hackett is the problem,” she explained. “He’s ambitious, but respected and dedicated, and as I understand it, he’s about to be promoted to command the Pacific theater mission. What on earth would motivate him to get involved in something like this?”

“Only he can answer that.” Burke’s accusing eyes glittered steel-gray. He didn’t have to repeat his remark about her being too young and idealistic. It was etched in the lines of his face. “I never claimed to have all the answers, counselor. The bottom line is that there’s a coverup going on here. A huge coverup. Whether or not you believe it doesn’t change a damn thing-except that your doubt leaves everyone who stands to be hurt by this wide open for attack.”

“It leaves you open for attack.”

” Me and a country full of people who have no idea their own military is testing chemicals on them.” Seeing confusion flicker through her eyes, he raked an impatient hand through his yellow-streaked hair. “You obviously don’t get it.”

Wanting to snarl, she forced herself to smile. “Enlighten me.”

“Chemicals, counselor. They don’t dissipate, or stay where you put them. They’re airborne. And what hits the ground lingers for a couple of years. How many, depends on the type of chemical. The wind was blowing southeast that day. Do you have a clue what lies southeast of Area Fourteen?”

“No, I don’t.” God, but it grated at her to have to admit that.

“Base housing,” Burke said from between his teeth. “You do know what base housing is, right? It’s where the families of military personnel live. Many soldiers, their spouses and children. Do you get it now, counselor?”

If she believed any of this, that statement would have had impact. She’d be shivering with terror. Instead she felt enormously relieved that all of this was a lie. A chilling one, true. But then a lie meant to save a man from the death penalty would have to be chilling and terrifying, wouldn’t it? “Why did you threaten two of the men on Alpha team?”

“I didn’t.”

“Investigators say you did. That you killed them and sacrificed the other two men.” , “They lied.” Cold rage shone in Burke’s eyes. “Or someone lied to them.”

“It’s always someone else’s fault.”

“Only when that’s the way it is, counselor.” He grunted. “You still don’t believe me.”

“No, I don’t.” She admired his tenacity. “But I will check for points of verification in your story. You mentioned several possibilities. The radio message-”

“You won’t find it.”

“If it exists, I’ll find it.

Burke countered. “I radioed in on a secure channel.”

“During an exercise,” she added emphatically. “All transmissions are recorded during exercises-for strategical studies.” She finally lifted her pen. “I’ll also check for requisitions on the chemical alarm and gear.”

“Environmental won’t have them,” Adam warned her.

She frowned. “They will, if they exist. General Nestler requires them to be filed on all chemical or biological resources. Base wide. Nothing moves without the paper.”

Adam wasn’t appeased. Irritated, he rocked back, crossed his chest with his arms, and tensed his muscles until they strained the seams of his sleeves. “Environmental will not have the requisitions,” he repeated firmly.

The temptation to shout nearly choked her. “If they exist, they will have them, Burke.”

“Damn it, woman. Think!” Adam balled his fist, pounded the heel of his hand against the back of the chair. The metal dented. “Only amateurs leave trails.”

Afraid of provoking another violent reaction from him, she sat quietly and watched him.

Anger ebbed from his expression, and he lowered his voice. “Hackett has more years in the intelligence community than you and I together have in the service. He’s got more clout than anyone on base, except General Nestler. And Nestler stays too immersed in getting his pet project contracted and funded to-”

“What pet project?” Tracy interrupted.