Page 128 of Anchor
Patrick crossed his arms. “But do it fast. Because once this goes operational, it’s going wide. And he can’t hear it from someone else.”
Claire nodded once. “Then we tell him tonight.”
REHAB ROOM 10 – 1714 HOURS
Reid looked up immediately. He was seated, cooling off from his most recent PT session, holding his water bottle. Sweat dampened the edge of his T-shirt. He looked more alert than she’d seen him in days.
“You’re back early,” he said.
Claire forced a smile, crossed the room, and sat on the bed beside him. “Yeah,” she smoothed a hand over his thigh, “I needed to be here.”
He faced her. “What happened?”
She hesitated.
“Claire.”
Her voice was soft. “There was a sighting.”
His body tensed. “Who?”
She met his eyes. “Lucien Vos. And… someone else. A woman. Older. She was seen with him, in Prague.”
Reid went still. He didn’t speak, just stared at her.
Claire’s breath felt like glass in her lungs. “The ID was run three times. It’s credible. It was… my mother.” The words tasted like ash.
Reid’s fingers closed around hers. “She’s Michigan’s Senator. What is she doing there?” His reaction was automatic, the way people respond when reality breaks logic.
“I have a lot to tell you…” She didn’t finish.
“Go ahead.”
Claire leaned in close. “I need to tell you… before it spreads. Before it turns tactical. Because I won’t hide things from you.”
Reid studied her face, then he reached up, cupped the back of her head, and pressed his forehead to hers. “You tell me where to stand,” he said. “And I’ll be there.”
She closed her eyes. The door clicked open behind them with a knock. Patrick. Seth. Tuck. His medical team. His family.
Reid saton the edge of the bed, Tuck on his left, Claire just beside him, her hand wrapped around his. Her thumb hadn’t stopped moving. Small circles rolled across his palm like she could draw courage into him that way. But it wasn’t courage he lacked. It was memory.
He remembered fragments: the hallway, the voice on comms, the sense that something wasn’t right. The name Vos hung in his mind like a sword not yet dropped.
Claire said it. She confirmed the name, that the footage and the woman beside him was her mother. There was more to it, he could tell. Reid asked for the truth with no edits and no redactions.
The door clicked open without warning. Julian Dupart stepped into the suite, carrying confidence in his shoulders, not the stride.
Reid looked up at the sound and froze. “Sir.” He remembered the CEO of Chase San Diego.
Julian pulled Reid into a solid, unhesitating hug. “Mon gars,” he murmured, Cajun drawl soft and full. “Damn glad to be doing this in person.”
Reid’s arms gripped tighter. His throat worked around too many words at once.
Julian clapped a hand on Reid’s back and pulled away just enough to look at him. “You look like hell,” he said with a crooked grin. “But better than a man in a grave.”
Reid laughed once, breath shaky. “How’s your family?”
Julian’s smile eased, but his eyes stayed sharp. “Good. I told Sadie and JT to give you a little time.”
