clued Reid in on the bad news before he finished. “They’re going to die in the future in Yuma, Arizona.”
“Damn.” Reid breathed out. Sadness shifted to resignation. Every guy on the list had known the risks of being an operative. They’d willingly taken an oath to do what they believed in. “How?”
“Plane crash during a demonstration. That’s the official word. Speaks claims they were already dead and the crash was used to cover it up.”
“And maybe it is. Come on, West.” Reid stood. “An accident could be a cover story for a classified mission gone wrong. It’s about protecting national security. You know the drill.”
West gripped the couch. “I still think one of us needs to phase into the future and look into this. Hurley and Moore were on team two. They saved us eight years ago when we were ambushed in Afghanistan.”
Knots tightened in Reid’s gut. That day in the valley, bullets flying, pinned down by insurgents. He still had nightmares about it.
“Hell, Reid, just send me.” West held up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say. Take it to Dalir. I already tried, but he wouldn’t listen. He said we’re grounded. Period. I also know I’m logistics. It’s my job to keep things solid while the team is on assignment, but one of you can handle it until I get back.”
“I hear you, but Speaks is paranoid. Do you honestly think we can trust him on this?”
“He rarely leaves his mother’s basement and only eats canned food. So yeah, there’s a chance he’s full of shit, but he’s hacked into systems that would take me weeks to get into. The intel he’s provided in the past has been solid. This isn’t just about me wanting back in the field. I can’t ignore what my gut is telling me. A few months ago, a former project manager from Greenhill made claims to a reporter about falsified reports. He changed his story after he got his job back with a bonus. As crazy as it is, I think Speaks is right.”
And West’s gut instincts were on target more often than not. “What’s your plan?”
“Thread the needle. I can create a dummy profile here that sets one of us up as a perfect candidate for Samson. We have to phase in at least two years six months before the accident. That also meets the parameters Thane laid out about not jumping in on his timeline with Celine. In the future, with the right buzzwords, Speaks will get on board. His hacking skills can solidify the cover and get us into the program.”
Reid walked to the sliding glass door overlooking the pool. Their last roll call would have been at Arlington Cemetery if Hurley and Moore’s team hadn’t backed them up. They were alive because of them. If Project Samson was part of some fucked up plan, they had to act. Leave no man behind. They lived by that creed. Sitting on their asses was like leaving Hurley and Moore behind to die. If Dalir wouldn’t spare time for West, he damn sure wasn’t going to listen to him. Once the Ancient was pissed and made up his mind on something, he was immovable.
“All right. Let’s take a look.”
West stepped forward. “Who are you tapping for this?”
“No one.” Reid met West’s gaze. “I’m taking it.”
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