Christmas Witness Protection. Maggie Black K.
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to discover what they knew might be able to buy their entire file online was horrifying.
This is all my fault... If I’d managed to get Elias to listen... If I’d managed to stop the Ghoul and the Wraith in the warehouse, as well as getting Holly to safety... He felt his limbs shake. How do I stop this?
A hand grasped his arm and squeezed slightly. He hadn’t even realized Holly had gotten up from the couch, but now she stood behind him, her fingers brushing against his forearm and down along the back of his hand in a gesture that was both reassuring and caring. An unfamiliar warmth spread through him.
“Breathe,” she said firmly. “You look like you’re about to pass out, and we need your head in the game. It’s going to be okay. That’s what you told me when we met, right?”
She was a whistle-blower whose life had been threatened and who’d just been kidnapped. He was the witness protection officer. And yet she was reassuring him? But for a moment something about the way she said it almost made him believe her.
“Hey, Noah?” Seth’s voice sounded almost like he was being choked. “My name’s on the list.”
A firm and determined knock sounded on the door below. Holly’s touch disappeared from Noah’s hand. Instinctively, he stepped between her and the door, sheltering her with his body as he reached for his weapon.
“It’s Liam, Jess and Mack,” Seth said. He rose, and Noah couldn’t help but notice his entire body seemed to be shaking. “The team’s all here. I’ll go let them in. You figure out what on earth we’re going to do.”
“Wait!” Noah said. “If the entire witness protection database has been accessed, does that mean they have this address and know that someone in witness protection lives here?”
“I don’t think so,” Seth said. “I’ve accessed my file in the past, to scrub my location and replace it with a dummy. They shouldn’t know anyone in witness protection lives here. But nothing stays hidden forever. I’ll brief them downstairs to give you guys a moment. I’m getting the impression you want one.”
Did they? Noah definitely wouldn’t mind one. Especially as he had something to ask Holly about that he didn’t want to address in front of the rest of the team.
Seth went downstairs. Holly walked back over to the couch and sat down again. Noah sat on the coffee table opposite her, and for a long moment they stayed there, face-to-face, so close their knees were almost touching.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Neither Liam, Mack nor Jess can be Snitch5751. They’re three of the best people I’ve ever met, and I trust them with my life.”
A niggling in the back of his mind told him that Holly would want to know she was placing her life in the hands of four detectives who weren’t on active duty. And he would tell her. It was just a matter of how and when. Or better yet, he’d wait to let them tell her themselves. Their personal stories weren’t exactly his to share.
“We have to stop this,” Holly said.
We? She was going to stay safe somewhere until the date of the inquiry she was supposed to testify at. He was going to stop this, somehow, with the help of the colleagues Seth was right now letting in downstairs. And to do that, he needed more information than he already had.
“Tell me everything I don’t know about this thing you’re testifying in,” he said. “What do I need to know about General Frey?”
“Bertie,” she said quickly. “He tells everyone to call him General Bertie.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and then lay back against the pillows. Her eyes closed again. He heard voices from the stairs. It sounded like Seth was briefing the others in the bottom of the stairwell, and Noah was thankful Seth was giving him and Holly a moment alone.
“It’s a parliamentary inquiry,” she said. “Which means I’ll sit at a table and for days be grilled by government leaders, on camera, broadcast live to the nation, a lot of whom really want to believe that Bertie is innocent and I’m a big fat liar. It could result in his resignation or criminal charges. But if they don’t believe me, it could also lead to absolutely nothing but a major setback to my military career.”
He noticed she hadn’t mentioned leaving the military as an option.
“I’ve heard about it on the news,” Noah said, “and I’ve read your file. But I’m not going to pretend to understand it. I do know he has a stellar reputation and people really like him.”
“He does,” she said, “and they do. He was my mentor for years and I felt honored to serve under him on my last tour of duty. Whenever he’s home in Canada over the holidays, he throws this huge party at his country estate, in northern Ontario, with elaborate light displays and free turkeys and food hampers for servicemen and -women, and those in other areas of emergency services and law enforcement. Presents for their kids, too. From a sheer military perspective, I loved serving under him. He was a hero of mine.” She frowned. “But in my experience people tend to be more complex than you’d think.”
He could agree with that. She still hadn’t opened her eyes. Just how bad was her headache?
“That part of the world has nomadic tribal families,” she continued. “Many live very remotely and have long-standing grudges and rivalries that go back generations. Every now and then violence will break out. It’s really horrible and really bad, but it’s on a smallish scale.”
“I get it,” Noah said. “You hurt one of my people, so we hurt one of yours. Like rival gangs in North America. Or something from a historical drama about ancient clans.”
“Or Shakespeare,” she said wryly. She took a deep breath. “Then suddenly the violence escalated, from knives, sticks and a handful of relatively minor injuries a year, to dozens getting shot by military-grade weapons. About two dozen people were killed at a wedding last year and when local authorities investigated, they found the weaponry came from the Canadian military. Troops on the ground said they’d all been stolen from us.”
“But that wasn’t true?” Noah asked.
“No.” She shook her head, then winced again. “Bertie gave them away. He bartered them, too. He gave weapons to warring families and local warlords so they could ‘protect’ themselves.” Her fingers moved in air quotes. “He did it to build connections. He did it to grease wheels. He did it to gain intel. And whenever I challenged him on it, and believe me I did, he said it was just part of keeping our troops safe and helping us be effective in our mission.”
“By arming a handful of local families to increase how badly they could hurt each other,” Noah said.
“See, you get it!” Her eyes snapped open. “But to hear most people tell it, I’m the villain here. That’s what I’m learning through this. That whether people believe me or not, they still think I’m wrong. The official line is that he’s completely innocent. The unofficial line is so what if a few dozen people in a completely different part of the world, who are determined to kill each other anyway, get to it a little faster? Is that worth ruining a good man’s reputation and career over?”
The question was rhetorical, but he couldn’t have argued with it if he tried. “I get what you’re saying. You didn’t deserve the backlash, and I’m sorry it drove you into witness protection.”
Something flashed hot and fierce in her eyes.
“You think a bit of hate, online chatter and pathetic death threats drove me into witness protection?” she asked. “Nobody and nothing drove me to anything. What happened is three thugs got paid by some unknown fan of Bertie’s to jump me in an alley outside base one night, thinking they’d ‘teach me a lesson’ about ‘being quiet and keeping my mouth shut.’”
She’d been attacked? Why hadn’t that been in her file? Something tightened in Noah’s chest. An unfamiliar pain filled his core. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to defend her. He wanted