Page 72 of Shadow Blind

She refused to spend the rest of her life agonizing over Aiden. Whether he was alive. Whether he was dead. Whether he’d been one of the many sacrificed to keep evil in check.

Chapter twenty-nine

Day 14

Denali, Alaska

“How many spooks did you speak to?” The question was interspersed with panting, which was ridiculous. A stroll through the base corridors on his way to the elevator should not get his lungs so worked up.

It figured that Russo would call with a Kuznetsov update now, while Aiden was headed to the air hangar. The lab had finally called it quits on the bloodletting and given him the greenlight to jump base. Wolf had even okayed his ride on the Bell and allowed him to visit Cosky’s precious Neighborhood.

He stopped at the elevator, welcoming the delay to catch his breath. Time to hit the gym again. His lack of PT was showing.

“I’m on the move, so if I go silent, hold the line until I hit a signal again.” Aiden didn’t quite believe Cosky’s reassurances that cell phone reception was exceptional. For Christ’s sake, they were buried beneath tons of concrete, dirt, and rock. He punched the UP button for the elevator. “So, none of the spooks or soups know where Kuznetsov is?”

“Depends on which soup I spoke with,” Russo said. “They’re all reporting different locations.”

The elevator bells chimed, and the doors slid open. He stepped in and pressed the button to the air hanger. With luck, the Bell would be prepped and waiting. If he was extra lucky, Cosky would have one of those handy-dandy Neighborhood badges waiting for him. Having to cool his heels while someone rustled one up was going to strain his patience—which was already as thin as day old ice.

“The CIA and NSA put him in Sevastopol.” Devlin’s voice was a staticky rumble on the line. “But INTCEN, DGSI, and CNRLT claim the bastard’s in Seltso, along the Desna River. Mossad claims he’s in Istaravshan, Tajikistan.”

“Istaravshan?” Aiden straightened from his slouch against the elevator wall. His instincts lit up with a low grade buzz the instant Dev mentioned the town. “That’s only one hundred and fifty klicks from Vahdat.”

“One-fifty-one, if we’re going to be precise. Plus—it came from our Israeli friends. Mossad has some damn fine intelligence gatherers.”

True. “What’s your gut say? Did Kuznetsov go to ground in Istaravshan?”

Dev’s grunt carried ambivalence. “My gut ain’t talking. Besides, what we think doesn’t matter. USSOCOM won’t move on it. They’ll need a solid sighting before they’ll do anything. Nobody wants a repeat of what happened in Karaveht. They won’t greenlight another op until they have Kuznetsov’s location double and triple checked, with clear, identifiable photos. Which won’t happen anytime soon, with all the soups focusing on different locales.” He paused before adding quietly, “Feels like a scattershot op to me. My guess is that Kuznetsov, or someone connected to him, is setting off false identification after false identification to keep everyone guessing.”

“Fuck.” A scowl heated Aiden’s face. He’d hoped for more. A lot more. They didn’t have time for patience and prayers.

“I hear you, brother.” Sympathy practically dripped down the line.

Aiden’s scowl grew. He didn’t want sympathy. He wanted—hell, needed—results.

“One more thing, about that name you gave me,” Dev added, his voice sharpening.

“You mean O’Neill?” Aiden asked, waiting with barely leashed patience as the elevator slowed and the bell chimed.

“That’s the name. Singular, like Madonna,” Russo said. “Looked into him like you asked. You sure that’s the right name?”

“That’s all I have,” Aiden said. Not even Wolf knew the dude’s full name. Or if he even had one.

“Nobody got a look at his birth certificate?”

“My brother did.” The elevator doors snapped open. Aiden stepped out and into the air hanger. “Said the only thing listed was a first name. O’Neill. No last name given.”

“Hmm…” Russo paused. “No parents listed?”

“The mother was. Mary Beacher. No father. Nobody knew who knocked his mother up.” Aiden wove his way between the various aircraft, and damned if his legs weren’t getting heavier with every step. “I take it you didn’t get anything off the name?”

He hadn’t expected Russo to uncover anything. The ask had been a long shot.

“On O’Neill? No.” Russo hesitated before continuing with a what-the-hell tone of voice. “But my friendly neighborhood NSA spook is a big sci-fi fan, so he tossed Jack O’Neill in for the hell of it.”

“Jack O’Neill?” Aiden shook his head. “Doesn’t ring any bells.”

“It wouldn’t, if you aren’t a Stargate fan. It was a sci-fi hit during the late 1990s to the late 2000s—partly because of Richard Dean Anderson, who portrayed Colonel Jack O’Neill, an Air Force Special Operations Veteran. Anyhow, my spook is a big Stargate fan and has far too much imagination, so he tossed Jack O’Neill into his search criteria—and damned if he didn’t get a hit. A big one. Adding Jack to the search triggered a hit on a classified file, codename Stargate. Restricted access. No information available.”

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