Chapter 8 - THE MAN FROM MY PAST
His name was Colonel Nathan Briggs.
I hadn’t spoken to him in seventeen years.
Briggs had been decorated, respected, and trusted.
He had also been the man who recommended me for the instructor position that defined half my career.
“What does Briggs have to do with Victor?” I asked.
Harris hesitated.
“We’re not sure.”
“Try again.”
“We believe Briggs worked private security after retirement.”
“That’s not criminal.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“He provided training.”
My stomach tightened.
Dustin stared at the floor.
Harris continued.
“For Victor’s organization.”
I pulled into the parking lot of a crowded twenty-four-hour supermarket.
Bright lights.
Cameras.
Witnesses.
I parked.
“When?”
“About twelve years ago.”
I looked through the windshield.
That explained things I didn’t want explained.
Victor’s people didn’t move like ordinary street criminals.
They communicated with gestures.
They worked in teams.
Someone had trained them.
Rick spoke carefully.
“Frank?”
I ignored him.
“Harris, where is Briggs now?”
“We don’t know.”
That answer bothered me more than anything else.
“You lost him?”
“He disappeared six months ago.”
Dustin suddenly spoke.
“I’ve seen him.”
Every head turned.
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“Where?”
“At Victor’s house.”
My mouth went dry.
“What were they talking about?”
“I wasn’t supposed to hear.”
“But you did.”
Dustin nodded.
“They were arguing about the server.”
“What server?”
“The one Evelyn accessed.”
Harris heard everything through the phone.
“What exactly did Briggs say?”
Dustin thought.
“He said Victor was getting reckless.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
“He said somebody named Frank would recognize the files.”
The entire truck became silent.
Rick stared at me.
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
“He used my name?”
Dustin nodded.
“Your first and last name.”
I hadn’t met Victor.
I had never heard his name until Evelyn started dating Dustin.
Yet Briggs had been discussing me.
Harris said, “Frank, do not move.”
“Why?”
“Because this may not have started with Evelyn.”
I looked at the rearview mirror.
Dustin’s expression had changed.
“What?”
He reached slowly into his jacket.
I tensed.
He pulled out a folded photograph.
“I took this from Victor’s office.”
He handed it to me.
The picture was old.
At least fifteen years.
It showed a military training facility.
Six instructors stood shoulder to shoulder.
Briggs was there.
So was I.
Someone had drawn a red circle around my face.
May you like
And on the back were four words.
WAIT UNTIL HE'S VULNERABLE.
