Aimpoint by Candace Irving (best mystery novels of all time .TXT) 📗

"Moving on, then. Perhaps you could—" She broke off as his phone began to vibrate against the surface of the conference table.

His smile vanished as he looked down. Stared. Once again the man appeared to be transfixed, this time on the number currently displayed on his phone. An odd, almost cornered expression gripped his features as it vibrated a second time. He snatched up the phone—but not before she'd had a chance to scan the number herself and tuck it into memory.

"Excuse me a moment." He glanced pointedly at her own phone as he stood, tacitly ordering her to turn off her microphone. The moment she complied, Ertonç opened the connection on his and began speaking as he headed for the window. Quietly. In Turkish.

Interesting.

The country code fronting that call had been German.

He turned slightly, offering her an even more tantalizing view of his profile. The man couldn't seem to cease worrying his thick mustache with his fingertips as he spoke.

Who was on the other end of that conversation?

The general wrapped up the call all too quickly and headed back to the table, this time slipping his phone into one of the pockets on his camouflaged blouse as he sat. "I apologize for the interruption."

"No need, sir." She clicked the microphone back on, taking advantage of his lingering distraction as she opened with her most pressing question. "I understand you were originally slated to visit Hohenfels five weeks from now. Is there a reason why you've arrived so early?"

This smile was significantly less smooth than his earlier one. Because the question—or, more importantly, its answer—had unsettled him? Or because of that call and the distress still pinching his oddly blanched features?

Either way, he recovered quickly—and shrugged. "It was necessary."

"Necessary?"

He nodded. "There are many pressing matters to which I must soon attend in my country. Your post commander was gracious enough to accommodate my schedule by allowing me to move my visit and my speech forward."

It was a lie.

Even without Mira's insider knowledge, she'd have known that. The latest instinctive tug he gave his mustache proved it. Unfortunately, this was supposed to be a friendly interview, not an interrogation. She couldn't afford to press it.

"Why come to Hohenfels at all?"

"It was unavoidable."

"Unavoidable?"

"Yes. As you alluded to earlier, certain events have taken place in the world. Events that have…affected the way your army and mine relate to each other." Syria. The safe zone. Though he hadn't voiced the words, he did confirm them with a nod. "These events must not be allowed to tarnish our relationship. We are, after all, all soldiers. Subject to the policies of our respective governments. As you are no doubt aware, politicians come and go. Soldiers remain. Soldiers who must be able to truly and fundamentally trust one another, and be willing and able to work together again when called upon to do so, especially upon the battlefield. I am here to promote this."

Another tug on that mustache and another whopper. Worse, several of those lines had been lifted directly from the speech he'd just given.

Talk about recycling content.

Regan leaned forward to confront that faded stare head-on. "Working together? As in Kabul—where you and Captain Garrison first met?"

Score one for the captain's man Friday skills. Garrison had obviously briefed the general on the conversation they'd shared in that storage closet because Ertonç was ready for that one, too.

The general even managed a slight, almost genuine smile. "Yes, like Kabul. But that must be a story for another day." He stood. "I am sorry, Lieutenant. This is all the time I have for questions. I have a pressing meeting to attend shortly, and I must prepare. Would you like me to call you an escort?"

Foreign brass or not, she knew when she'd been deftly deflected—and decidedly dismissed.

With no choice but to obey, Regan scooped her phone off the table, ending the recording as she too came to her feet. "Thank you, sir, but I know the way. I appreciate your time and your patience with my questions. I hope you enjoy your stay at Hohenfels."

From the diffuse nod Ertonç offered, his mind was already elsewhere. As he retrieved his phone from his pocket before heading toward the window, she knew where his mind was focused, too—or, rather, upon whom.

Or she would know. Just as soon as she got out of there.

Ertonç had pulled up his calls log and hit redial on his most recently received one just before he'd turned.

Regan abandoned the man who'd already abandoned her, departing the conference room and heading down the hall to the lobby as quickly as she dared. Now was not the time to attract attention. Especially Garrison's.

Not with that number blistering through her brain.

The moment she cleared the main outer doors to the building, she punched in her fellow CID agent's number.

Jelling answered on the first ring.

"How's your son?"

"Fantastic. Appreciate your text earlier. I was so caught up, I forgot to answer. Sorry. But, yeah, they got his fever down, and we were able to bring him home a couple hours ago. He and Ava have been sleeping since. I was just getting ready to head into the office."

"That's a relief." And it was. But— "I need a favor, Jelly." One she actually preferred he do from the privacy of his home. "Don't leave for work just yet. You still tight with Mikel Gruber?"

"Yeah, why?"

She popped a salute as she approached a colonel on the sidewalk, then kept walking for several yards before shooting a quick glance behind her to ensure her six was clear of potential observers before she risked answering. "I need a local number traced, and I don't want the fact that I did it getting back to the post commander." Much less Garrison. At least, not yet. "The general took a call about fifteen minutes ago. One that's had him visibly on edge since. He's returning it now." Instead of preparing for his so-called pressing meeting. "It may be nothing. But my gut says otherwise. I think