Art stood, “I need to go before you trick me into revealing state secrets. There’ll be a car to pick you up and take you there. See you at the soiree.”
After he left, Hunter debated calling her mother, since she was in El Paso but decided not to, which made her feel guilty. Flipping channels didn’t help, so she pulled out Craig Johnson’s novel and read until she again fell asleep with it on her chest.
~*~
Hunter arrived at the commanding General’s residence on Fort Bliss just as several others did the same. She exited the limo and walked to the front door as Art fell into step beside her. He said, “You dress up very nice, Kincaid.”
She looked him up and down, “So do you. How many people are going to be here, do you know?”
“What I heard, around thirty.”
They entered the large elegant residence and followed the others to the living room, where Lincoln Jones and the General stood by the fireplace. Ashton Dean relaxed in a plush chair within hailing distance. He saluted Hunter with a tumbler of amber liquid. Lincoln left the General and joined Art and Hunter, saying, “After the socializing, we will go to the General’s study and talk. For now, enjoy yourselves and mingle.”
Hunter stayed close to Art as they made the rounds, engaging in conversation with others. A young man around twenty approached them, saying, “You two look as lost here as I do. I’m Johnny Beecham.” He put out his hand and they shook as Art and Hunter gave their names.
Johnny said to Hunter, “I don’t mean to be disrespectful or anything, but you have every man in here stealing glances at you, plus a few of the women, too. As my granddad would say, you look hotter than a two dollar pistol.”
Hunter said, “Your granddad has a way with words.”
Johnny pointed across the room to a lean man in his sixties. He had his back against the wall as he looked at the crowd. “That’s Grandpa.”
Art said, “That’s Buck Ward. He’s your grandfather?”
Johnny said, “Uh-huh. You know him?”
“Know of him.”
Hunter said, “Fill me in.”
Art said, “Buck Ward has the Navy Cross, plus a chest full of others.”
Johnny said, “He’s real low key, doesn’t like folks making a fuss about him. He brought me along with him while I’m visiting, because I leave tomorrow to go home. Mr. Jones is a friend. They go back a ways.”
Hunter said, “I think I heard Buck Ward’s name associated with a ranch near Black Gap Wildlife Refuge, on the east side of Big Bend Park.”
Johnny said, “He bought it last year. He lives out there now, and plans on moving the rest of his things out there when he finalizes selling his house in El Paso.” Johnny shook his head, “He took me out there last spring. That is some hard country. Makes most of Big Bend Park look like a garden.”
“Why that area?”
“He was there when he was younger, working on several ranches, and fell in love with it.”
Hunter said, “I’ll introduce him to a friend of mine out that way, a rancher named Sam Kinney.”
Johnny nodded as he noticed something behind Hunter. “Looks like you two are being summoned.”
Art and Hunter followed the General, Buck Ward, and Lincoln Jones into the commanding officer’s spacious library.
Lincoln Jones didn’t waste any time. “Hunter, this is primarily for you and Art. Buck and the General have already been briefed.” Hunter wondered why an inactive soldier, even if he was highly decorated, was being briefed on this.
The General said, “The problem centers around the drones and their capability.”
Lincoln said, “As I mentioned before, NSA picked up chatter from South America and heard the name Osorio. The chatter came from a branch of Hezbollah considered radical even by them. We have intelligence from the CIA that indicates this group may be working with Mexican cartels, and in particular with Osorio as a mediator between the groups.”
Art said, “We got a one-word intercept yesterday. They sent an email with the word sarin. It originated in Buenos Aires.”
Hunter’s scalp prickled. Sarin gas was bad stuff. She said, “You think Pasqual Osorio is involved in this? In a possible terrorist attack?”