Page 2 of Decoding Morse

Link shook his head, but the move seemed more like defeat than denial.

“He got belligerent when I wouldn’t let him leave,” I continued. “Took me a minute, but I calmed him down, got him back up to his room, and convinced him to take a nap.”

I pulled the keys to Tank’s bike out of my pocket and dropped them on the corner of Link’s desk, officially handing the problem over. He watched them like they were poisonous and about to strike.

“Fuck.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Prez.”

“He’s too young for Alzheimer’s or dementia.”

I didn’t correct him. Didn’t need to. Link was far too smart to believe that lie. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen Tank behaving erratically, and I’d bet the prez had seen some shit, too. He was likely dissecting their conversations for the warning signs he’d assured himself were nothing over the past several months.

“I don’t want to consider what could have happened had I not stopped Tank from gettin’ on his bike.”

Link grimaced. He was an exceptional leader, the sort who genuinely cared about his people, and this… this shit was hard.

“Fuck.”

“I’ll have my team keep eyes on him,” I said.

Link threw his head back and released a stream of curses that would make a sailor blush.

Uncomfortable with his frustration and creeping toward the door to make my escape, I practically jumped out of my skin when an alert sounded from my phone. The tone was one I’d specified for an unlikely catastrophic event, and hearing it now made the hair rise on the back of my neck. Yanking the cell from my pocket, I swiped at the screen to read the notification. It made no sense, so I read it again and again. Still, the message refused to compute.

Link was by my side before I registered his movement. “What is it, Morse?”

“The fuckin’ apocalypse. Or B… hell has frozen over. Has to be one or the other. Why would anyone...? Has to be some sort of mistake.” But as I clicked into the software I’d thrown down a shit-ton of cash for, my worst fear was confirmed.

“What?”

“Amelia is in danger.” There was no helping the tremble in my voice or the shake of my hands. This threat was legitimate, but how? How the hell could this be real?

“Mila?” Link asked.

“No. Not my cousin.”

Link shook his head, confused. “What’s going on? What do you need?”

I couldn’t breathe. My emotions usually stayed locked down, but this… it was too much. Struggling against lungs that felt like they were collapsing, I managed to blurt out the basics. “Someone put a hit out on a military widow. She’s the wife of my deceased recruiter.”

“Ted Hansen’s ol’ lady?”

I nodded. Link knew who Ted was and what he’d done for me.

“How many in the household?”

“Three. Amelia, her eighteen-year-old daughter, and an adult female roommate.”

“They local?”

“Lakewood.”

“Local enough. How old is the hit?”

His Special Forces training had to be screaming at him to launch into a barrage of questions, but he focused on gathering pertinent details. Later I’d appreciate the way he hadn’t asked a single, inessential personal question before springing into action, but right now, I focused on keeping my shit together long enough to answer.

“Fresh. Just posted.”

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