Compromised Identity. Jodie Bailey
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out on this poor kid wouldn’t help. She knelt and blotted at the drink on her boots, biting back words she’d have to repent for later, she was sure. “I can get another drink. And I have a spare pair of boots in my office.” Thankfully.
The kid still looked mortified. Fresh out of basic, he was definitely used to getting yelled out for every minor infraction, and was likely waiting for the tongue-lashing he thought he deserved.
Jessica pulled in a deep breath and straightened. “Really, it’s all good.”
The private looked down at the cup in his hand. “I’ll get you another drink.”
He was gone before she could protest that he really didn’t have to do that and was somehow back within minutes, even though the lines were still crazy long. Jessica didn’t question as he fed ice into her cup. “Um, Staff Sergeant? You missed a spot on your toe.” He started to reach down, then nervously pulled his hand back, aiming a finger at her left boot. “You were drinking tea?”
Focused on her shoes, Jessica nodded, and then took the cup he offered before he scampered off with another apology.
With her coveted table by the window now occupied by three soldiers, she picked up her tray and spotted another in the far corner of the room, the angle too sharp to see the TV. Oh well. She didn’t need to see the news anyway. She already knew all she needed to know. Her new brigade had shipped out without her, the chain of command claiming she should get more time stateside since she’d only been home a few months before her transfer to Fort Campbell. Her father was disappointed she’d been put in Rear Detachment, refusing to believe it was all about timing and not something she’d done wrong. To him, there was no value in her position. He’d never grasp the need for someone to be on the home front to act as liaison to the families, to support the soldiers who had deployed and to aid the transition for those coming and going overseas.
It was quieter in the corner anyway, away from the crowd. Sliding into the seat, she shoved a straw into her drink and unwrapped her hamburger, glancing at her watch. Half an hour to shove in hot chow and get back to the office before the next briefing.
She reached for her tea as a man slipped into the seat across from hers and laid his hand across the top of the cup. “Don’t drink that.”
Jessica sat back in her seat, trying to keep her jaw from going slack. The blond, blue-eyed soldier was the same man who’d come to her rescue yesterday—and he had to be out of his mind. “Do I know you, Staff Sergeant?”
“No, but trust me.”
Grabbing his wrist, the material of his uniform rough beneath her fingers, she lifted his hand from her drink. After staring down a gun and a knife yesterday, there was no room for fear in the middle of the crowded food court. She didn’t have time for this guy, even if he had saved her life, and even if he possessed the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. This current behavior was out-of-bounds. All she wanted was lunch in peace before an afternoon of listening to a commander who liked to hear his own voice. “Worst pickup line ever. You going to tell me next that I’d be better off going with you for drinks somewhere? That you—”
“Your drink’s spiked.”
“Right.” As a female in a predominantly male world, she’d heard every line in the book. This one not only took the cake, it sliced it and shoved it down her throat. “And you’re James Bond.” She reached defiantly for her sweet tea, but his hand was quicker, drawing the cup to his side of the table.
He couldn’t be serious. “What is your problem?”
But there was no amusement on the man’s face. His mouth pressed into a straight line, and a fairly recent scar ran from his hairline at his temple back toward his ear. It made him menacing. And deadly serious.
He was either telling the truth, or he was crazy and she should wave over one of the military policemen who tended to be around the Post Exchange for a lunch break.
Leaning forward, he slid her drink to the side. “When you’re a female, what’s the first rule you follow? Never let your drink out of your sight.”
“I didn’t.” Who was this guy to lecture her?
“You did. Just long enough for your clumsy friend to dump something in it. I watched him.”
The private at the drink machines? That kid was about as murderous as a toothless toy poodle. “So why didn’t you chase him down?”
“I thought it was more important to keep you from drinking it first. We can pull surveillance video later.”
Jessica wasn’t buying a word of this. Guys like this, fresh back from deployment, feeling lonely... They were trying to find someone to take their minds off things. She glanced down. No ring. At this moment, her blue-eyed “protector” was nothing more than a lonely single soldier looking for a woman any way he could get one. Somehow, he’d been in the right place at the right time yesterday, maybe because he was already watching her. Grasping her tray, she stood, staring him down. “Keep the drink. I don’t need it.”
“Sit down, Staff Sergeant.”
“Goodbye.” She stomped two steps away, but stopped at the sound of his voice.
“Your full name is Jessica Maria Dylan. You were born at Fort Benning, Georgia, to Colonel and Mrs. Eric Dylan. You came to Campbell a few months ago from Fort Lewis, Washington. You’re a medic assigned to First Brigade who didn’t ship out with your unit because you haven’t had enough downtime since your last deployment. On that deployment, you came under fire after your convoy hit an improvised explosive device, but rather than take cover, you went out into the mix and saved two soldiers’ lives. When your commander tried to put you in for a commendation, you fought him until he backed down...reluctantly. Oh, and two weeks ago, your government laptop was stolen.” When she turned, he tilted his head. “Ready to listen?”
No one but her former commander knew she’d turned down that commendation. And no one but her current chain of command knew her laptop had been stolen once already. “How did you know all of that?”
“It’s my job to know that...and to protect you.”
Jessica gave up her defiance and sank into her seat, finally deciding to give Staff Sergeant Sean Turner the satisfaction of investigating her drink. She popped the top and glanced inside.
A fine white powder coated the edges of the tea and floated in a sheen across the surface of the liquid. Her hands grew cold, and she shoved the cup away. Her head pounded, threatening nausea. “What’s going on?”
Staff Sergeant Turner scanned the immediate area around them, then pulled a folded paper from his pocket. “These are my orders.”
Jessica scanned the paper, not recognizing his unit name, but picking up that he was pulling temporary duty for an investigation. She folded the paper and stared at the tight creases. “You’re investigating me?”
There was something about his bearing, his attitude. He was Special Forces or deeper. She kept silent, knowing he’d eventually be forced to fill the space with words.
Staff Sergeant Turner pocketed his orders as he lowered his voice. “My unit works to combat groups that hack computers to funnel money and information but who are operating in the physical, as well. Essentially, it’s cybercriminals buried in sleeper cells. We’re deep because there are times the ones we’re investigating are soldiers. We’ve been looking into a series of laptop heists. The theft of your laptop two weeks ago is the first time we’ve seen the first theft and been able to anticipate the second. The interesting thing is, there have been chatter spikes each time. I’ve been watching your machines, and it just so happens our thief came out hot right under my nose yesterday.”
As much as she didn’t want to believe any of this, his knowledge of her past and his orders spoke to the truth. “So what do you need from me?” Jessica laid a hand on the cell phone in her leg pocket. She hadn’t had a chance to turn it over to the MPs yet, and now she wondered if she should.
“Nothing