Page 24 of Building Courage

Chapter 8

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Tucker sat back in the hard-backed chair and reminded himself that he was not responsible for Book’s accident or any of the others. He had nothing to worry about. He was an innocent man.

Agent Byres had a square jaw with a deep cleft in the center of his chin. His hazel eyes were just a shade too close together and too small to match the rest of his features, making his face bottom-heavy. Byres took a seat across from him and studied him as though he were a bug pinned to a board.

After facing down armed terrorists in several countries, that look wasn’t nearly as impressive as Byres probably thought it was.

“Your CO said you had an idea about correlating transfers to the jump deaths.”

“I’ve thought about it. One of our team almost died because of the asshole.” Tucker frowned. “Some of the guys bounced around the idea that some poison pill is running around playing Russian Roulette with team guys’ lives. Maybe someone who didn’t make the cut and ended up in a support position. But I don’t believe that. I believe it’s something personal with whoever is doing this.

“Book being targeted doesn’t fit that scenario because everyone liked him. He trained hard. He was quiet, took everything in like a sponge, and got the job done. He was a good, solid SEAL. He never pissed anyone off. Plus, he was the youngest on our team, and we all sort of treated him like a little brother. With all that said…I don’t think he was the target. It was someone else on the team, and Book just drew the bad chute by mistake.”

Byers shifted in his seat and reached for a pen. “Do you have any idea who might be the man who was supposed to be the target?”

Tucker shook his head. “Training is hard, and we’re constantly razzing each other to ease the tension. If this guy was pissed off by something someone said…or imagined some slight… Or, if he was passed up for some promotion or commendation…” Tucker shrugged.

When he paused, Byers leaned forward as though urging him on.

“We train across teams so we can work together cohesively. All it would take—if this guy is susceptible to getting wired when he’s criticized—is one wrong word from the wrong person, whether it was someone from his own team or someone in another we’ve worked with.

“Then one of my teammates mentioned all the movement we’d had recently, with personnel transferring in and out. I thought about why operators transfer or take leave. Injuries, trainings, promotions, emergencies, family… But what if someone pissed this guy off. He planned a scheduled training or a leave to distance himself from it. Then, he waited until it was almost time to go wheels up and set up the chute thing so it would either go down just before he left or right after he was already gone. Or, he could’ve left just before a spin-up when he knew the guys were deploying and would be HALOing in—which was what we were training for when Book had his accident.

He paused again waiting for Byers to make a comment and when he didn’t, continued.

“An algorithm might collate those personnel movements and match them up with the chute failures. If one person stood out, we might have the answer. But then again, there might be more than one. It would probably take two people. I don’t think one person could do it.”

Agent Byres fiddled with the pen for a moment, his narrowed gaze steady on Tucker’s face. “Are you always so analytical, Petty Officer Giles?”

“I’m the dive master for my team, Agent. It’s my job to analyze everything down to the smallest possible problem and outcome to ensure my teammates are prepared and safe. That sometimes shifts over into other areas of our operations. But on a personal note, it pisses me off that some fucker messed with my team and cost a good guy his career and his girl, and left him permanently disabled, destroying his life. Book deserves justice, as do the other guys who lost their lives.”

“When was the last time you took leave, Petty Officer?” Byers asked, tossing aside the pen.

“I took a week last August and flew down to Mississippi when my grandmother had hip replacement surgery.”

“Any trainings?”

“None that didn’t include my team as a whole.”

Tucker studied the guy’s expression. He thought he’d stumbled upon something, or they’d already followed the same lines of reasoning in their investigation. Or, he’d just painted a big bullseye on his own back by knowing all of this. Fuck!

“Do me a favor, Petty Officer. Don’t mention any of this to anyone else. Not even to the other members of your team.”

He remained silent a moment. “Okay.”

Byres looked at his watch and got to his feet. Tucker followed suit.

“I appreciate you coming in, Giles.” He offered his hand.

Tucker didn’t trust the handshake, but he took it. “No problem.”

On the drive back, he analyzed every moment of the interview. He hadn’t applied for a transfer, hadn’t received orders or applied for another training, and hadn’t been anywhere near the chute storage unless he was with his team being issued chutes for a practice jump. He didn’t fit the criteria of the killer. He had nothing to worry about. Or did he?

To get his mind off it all, he called Brynn. As soon as she answered the call, he said, “Are we still on for the dive after work today.”

“Yeah.”

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