Chapter 2 - The Coin in Warren’s Garage
I knew that coin.
Not because I had owned one.
Because I had handed them out.
A black circle.
Silver falcon.
Two crossed arrows beneath the words:
Fortis in Silentio.
Strength in silence.
Only thirty-seven had ever been made.
They belonged to operators attached to Blackridge Group, a classified Special Operations detachment that officially never existed.
I had commanded it for four years.
The coin stopped beside Warren’s shoe.
He looked down.
Then kicked it beneath the workout bench.
Too late.
I had seen his face.
Fear.
Not confusion.
“Claire?” Lily whispered.
Marcus was still on the ground, breathing hard.
I stepped away from him.
The fight was over.
Something worse had begun.
“Where did that duffel come from?” I asked Warren.
He laughed too quickly.
“Garage sale.”
“No.”
His smile tightened.
“You calling me a liar in my own house?”
“Yes.”
Rachel stepped between us.
“For God’s sake, Claire. You already humiliated Marcus. Isn’t that enough?”
I looked at my sister.
“Do you know what’s inside that bag?”
“I don’t care.”
Another lie.
Rachel always touched the necklace at her throat when she lied.
Her fingers were gripping it now.
Marcus got to his feet.
“You think some old military junk makes you important?”
I ignored him.
One of his gym friends did not.
His name was Devon Price. Former Marine, according to Marcus.
He stared at the coin beneath the bench.
“My captain had one of those.”
I turned.
“What captain?”
Devon swallowed.
“Elias Ward.”
My stomach went cold.
Lieutenant Colonel Elias Ward had been my executive officer at Blackridge.
He died nine years ago in a helicopter crash over Nevada.
No survivors.
Or so I had been told.
“Where did you see his coin?”
Devon looked at Warren.
Warren said sharply, “Devon, go home.”
That was all I needed.
I walked toward the garage.
Marcus blocked me.
“Get off my property.”
I looked at him.
“Move.”
This time he did.
Inside the duffel were old combat gloves, encrypted radio batteries, two foreign passports and a photograph.
I picked it up.
Seven operators stood outside a mud-brick compound overseas.
I was one of them.
Elias Ward stood beside me.
Someone had drawn a red X over my face.
On the back, written in black marker:
Bennett lives. Phase three can proceed.
My pulse slowed.
Not from calm.
From training.
I turned toward Warren.
“Where did you get this?”
He said nothing.
Then Lily cried out behind me.
I spun.
Rachel was gone.
May you like
So was my daughter.
And the white stuffed rabbit lay alone in the grass.
