King and Maxwell (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 6)

He pulled out his phone and punched in a number. “Edgar, it’s Sean. You think you have one more hack left in you tonight?” He added, “The Pentagon. Here’s what I need.”

It took two hours but Edgar came through and gave Sean the answers to his questions. He’d also managed to discover some additional information on the person in question. “People need to hide their tracks better online,” said Edgar. “Two proxy servers, three ghost IP addresses, a manufactured digital confluence in Hong Kong, and a byte dispersal program randomly free-riding on excess data streams with reassembly on a platform in Dubai just doesn’t cut i

t anymore.”

Sean rubbed his temple. “Okay, Edgar, I have no idea what the hell you just said, but can they track it back to you?”

“I’m cool,” said Edgar. “National security—”

“Trumps all,” finished Sean.

He put away the phone and looked at Michelle.

She said, “From your scowl I deduce your wish did not happen. You were really right, not really wrong.”

“I’ll give you directions to where we’re going.”

“Sean?” she said quizzically.

Sean looked grim. “Not now, Michelle. Not now.”

They walked up to the door of the substantial house set on a corner lot. Sean rang the bell. They heard footsteps approaching. A few moments later Curtis Brown, Dana’s two-star husband, opened the door. He looked surprised to see them.

“Jesus, I thought you guys would be making the major news show circuit by now. National heroes. Pretty damn impressive.”

“Can we come in, Curtis?” asked Sean somberly.

Brown took a step back. “Sure, what’s up?”

“I know it’s late, but I just wanted to ask you a few questions. About Dana.”

“Okay. She’s doing much better. Docs think she can be discharged in a week or so to rehab.”

“That’s great news.”

He closed the door behind them and led them into the living room.

Sean looked around at the comfortable furnishings. Everything had been done in fine taste.

“Do I detect Dana’s work here?” he asked.

“Yes. I can lead soldiers into battle. I cannot decorate a room or match colors to save my soul.”

Curtis sat and motioned for them to do so. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“You didn’t tell us you were retiring from the Army,” began Sean.

Brown looked surprised. “How did you find out about that?”

“Is it true?”

“Yes. Two stars are enough for me. I’d have to keep making the circuit if I wanted to keep moving up and getting one or two more. And I’m tired of the game.”

“And you’re moving to Malaysia?”

Now Brown stood and glared at Sean. “You’ve been spying on me. Hacking my personal records.”

“Not me, no, I wouldn’t know how. But a friend of mine is really good at it. Only Malaysia isn’t your final stop. You’re only there for a few weeks. You bought property, through a shell company, on an island in Indonesia. A lot of property, all oceanfront. Way more than a two-star should be able to afford even though you do have a trust fund.”