Secondary Targets Read Online Free PDF Page B

inside his back pockets.
    Billings shook his head and moved back toward his desk. “Sorry, Colonel, I can’t help you. I’ve got a staff meeting in ten minutes.”
    “Not a problem, Sergeant. Thank you for your time.”
    Eric prayed Grace didn’t object. After a few minutes in the nearby rest rooms, he and Grace could slip back into the office after Billings had left.
    She made no objection as he moved her toward the door and out into the hallway. Billings followed them out and headed in the opposite direction.
    “Oh, Colonel,” Billings called after Eric.
    Eric glanced over his shoulder and waited.
    “Enjoy your retirement, sir.”
    If Billings only knew. Eric gave a little wave as the sergeant turned away. After a few steps, Billings disappeared around the corner.
    Eric took Grace by the upper arm and did an about-face, heading back into the sergeant’s office.
    “Did he do that on purpose?” Grace asked. “Leave like that?”
    “Yes.” Eric closed and locked the door behind them.
    “What happened to him anyway?”
    “He was injured in Iraq a couple of years ago.” He wasted no time, parking himself at the Sergeant’s desk.
    “Oh...” Grace paused. “Where’d you meet him?”
    “Iraq,” he said, typing away on the keyboard. “Look, can we stop with the chitchat? We don’t have very long.” Eric didn’t want to get into the particulars of his friendship with Sergeant Jacob Billings. The Marine Corps had branded Eric a hero. But he’d only done his job—save a fellow Marine—and he didn’t need any praises and accolades.
    “How long is not very long?” she asked, veering off the subject of Sergeant Billings. Thank God.
    “Ten minutes. Fifteen, tops.”
    “What exactly are we looking for again?” she asked, lingering over his shoulder.
    “As a former commander here at Cherry Point, there should be plenty of information about your father and hopefully his grave’s whereabouts.”
    The documentation had to exist. It was only eleven years ago. Plenty of people should still be around who’d remember General Michael Hendricks.
    Eric stared at the computer screen and a list detailing all of Cherry Point’s commanding generals since the base’s inception during World War II. A sick, heavy feeling weighted the pit of his gut.
    One name was inexplicably absent.
    General Michael Hendricks .

CHAPTER 4
    THE halls of the Reception Center at Cherry Point buzzed with military personnel and a few carefully selected civilians.
    Eightball had no trouble fitting in. He strolled along, clearly comfortable in his green Service Uniform, carrying a large manila envelope tucked under one arm. With each encounter in the corridor he’d smile to the civilians and salute those in uniform, and then continue on his way.
    He’d waited a long time for this day. Ever since Michael Hendricks’s untimely death. That’s how long he’d been itching to get his hands on the man’s daughter. No matter how hard Eightball and his colleagues had tried, they hadn’t been able to locate Grace Hendricks. It was like a crack in the universe had opened up and devoured her.
    And, spit her back out yesterday.
    Eightball continued down the hall, finally reaching his destination. He entered the office and eased the door shut behind him. Seeing the receptionist’s desk empty, he figured the Major General’s secretary was probably out running an errand. Either that, or she was—
    He ordered the notion out of his thoughts, bent his head and studied his hands. Eightball had enough good in him to induce him to pause briefly, long enough to knock on the interoffice door before entering. Just in case.
    But he had enough bad to tempt him not to wait for an invitation. The bad outweighed the good and he opened the door. Just in case.
    Inside, the Major General—code name Torpedo—also wore the traditional Marine Corps uniform. And, he was alone.
    Bummer. Eightball let out a disappointed sigh and entered the roomy office, devoid of