Page 117 of Fatal Vision
Colton’s gaze ping-ponged between her and the man in the bed. “What the hell are you two talking about?”
“Colton,”—Shelby motioned at the man in the bed—“you remember Wyatt Evers. The man who infiltrated 12 September and then managed to get a message back to the CIA about Connor’s whereabouts.”
He sat back. “That’s not Evers.”
Daniel pointed at his face. “Plastic surgery, brother, and a lot of bleach on my hair.”
A lift of Colton’s brows. “No way.”
Shelby nodded. Zeb grinned.
“So Ingram killed the wrong man,” Colton said. “Then who’s the dead guy we thought was you?”
Daniel/Wyatt rubbed his eyes. “When I got back to the real world, I had trouble adjusting. I hung out on the streets, wandered around, stayed in some pretty bad places. I tossed my dog tags and driver’s license in a dumpster at one point. The dead guy was probably one of the homeless men I hung out with and he fished them out of the dumpster and died with them on.”
“The local ME didn’t get prints from the body before the Navy took it away to verify it wasn’t Wyatt,” Shelby said to Colton. “The NCIS report has mysteriously disappeared. Not even Beatrice can locate it.”
“The Navy didn’t want me working for the CIA, but because of my skills and the fact my grandparents are from Baghdad, it was easy for me to talk and act like a native. All I was supposed to do was ask a few questions and see if I could determine whether McKenzie was still alive or not. Next thing I knew, I had an in with 12 September. I took it. Unfortunately, I got in so deep, I had to sever ties with my handler. The CIA assumed I’d flipped and the Navy didn’t want anything to do with me. Even after I got back and cleared my name with the Agency, the Navy was done with me. They wanted to pretend I never existed so letting a dead homeless guy take my identity was a way for me to disappear.”
Zeb leaned on the windowsill. “Why ingratiate yourself with Shelby’s family?”
“After Bard was shot and then I saw a blip about my own death, I knew something was up. I thought it might be a member of 12 September, taking us out one at a time. I wanted to reach out to someone, but technically, I no longer existed and it’s not easy to come clean after all the things I’ve done. Figured I’d keep an eye on Agent Claiborne since she led the FBI side of the mission and was still in Oklahoma where our killer seemed to be as well. Taking on Daniel’s persona was easy.”
“So you posed as a junior pastor for my dad?” Shelby couldn’t quite wrap her mind around that choice. “Seems like there are easier jobs.”
“I actually enjoyed working with your dad and helping people. Felt like setting a few things right after all the trouble I’ve caused.”
Zeb crossed his feet at the ankles. “Not even CIA trained operatives could accomplish what you did, getting in tight with 12 September, and you were undercover a long time. That’s why the Counterterrorism group thought you’d turned.”
He grimaced, a haunted expression crossed his face. No telling what atrocities he’d seen. Maybe even helped commit. “There were times when I was so deep in that shit, I wasn’t sure myself. But I had to stay until I could get McKenzie and the others out. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get word to the Agency before the others were killed. That weighs heavy on me.”
The sadness on his face was honest, raw. The truth cut deep lines in his face.
Shelby patted his hand. “Most people will never know the sacrifice you made for your country. I, for one, want to thank you for helping us save Connor and stop Quan.”
Wyatt ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t think I’d ever make it out of that compound alive, so I owe you thanks as well.”
“What did the Agency do with you once you came home?” Colton asked.
“They kept me at a black site for months, debriefing me.” His fingers formed air quotes. “It wasn’t technically torture, but it felt like it. When they finally let me go, I wandered around for a long time. I couldn’t assimilate back into real life. I went home to Lori but things were…weird. Too many ghosts, you know?”
Colton nodded. These men—all of them, whether SEALs or spies—lived separate lives. No matter how much they loved their wives and families, coming back to normal, everyday life in the USA was foreign to them.
Wyatt looked a little gray around the edges. It was time to get her official statement and leave the man to recoup. “I meant what I said about going home to your wife. If you decide to let Lori know you’re alive, I’ll go with you and do what I can to smooth things over with her. I know coming clean scares the hell out of you, but she deserves to know you’re alive. Maybe you two can work things out.”
“If you want the Agency to go on believing you died in that fire,” Zeb added, “I’ll make sure my report says that.”
Wyatt nodded at Zeb, then his sharp eyes appraised her. “Why would you do all of this for me after I lied to you?”
Shelby smiled. “I’m a sucker for happy endings, and besides, you did so in order to protect me.” She squeezed Colton’s shoulder. “I’m used to that.”
Setting her recorder on the table, she took a seat. “Come Monday, I may be out of a job, but for now, I’d like to take your statement about what happened at my house with Agent Ingram. He betrayed so many of us. I’m going to make sure he goes away for life.”
Wyatt nodded and pointed at the recorder. “Happy to oblige, ma’am. Turn that thing on.”
