Voss’s face had gone pale.
Elena now understood something important.
He was afraid of the question.
“Colonel.”
He lowered his voice.
“Room 17 doesn’t exist.”
Chapter Three
Brock Hammer had been alone for forty minutes when Elena entered the interview room.
His arrogance had survived longer than she expected.
He sat with both hands on the table, shoulders broad, jaw set.
His uniform shirt was still darkened with sweat.
A paper cup of water sat untouched near his elbow.
Elena closed the door.
Hammer looked at the stars on her collar.
“I really stepped in it.”
Elena sat opposite him.
“That’s one way to describe it.”
“You going to court-martial me?”
“That depends on what the investigation finds.”
He gave a humorless laugh.
“You already decided what you think.”
“I decided what I watched you do.”
Hammer leaned back.
“So this is about the soda?”
“No.”
His eyes moved.
Good.
“What did you mean when you said I was looking at the wrong man?”
Hammer studied her face.
“If I answer, what do I get?”
“An opportunity to tell the truth.”
“That’s not a deal.”
“No.”
“Then get me a lawyer.”
Elena began to rise.
Hammer’s confidence flickered.
“Wait.”
She sat again.
He looked toward the mirrored observation window.
“There someone behind that?”
“No.”
“Recording?”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
Then he leaned closer.
“You want to know why those three people cracked?”
Elena didn’t answer.
“Holloway. Beck. Cho.”
He knew the names without prompting.
“They all had the same problem.”
“What?”
“They went somewhere they weren’t supposed to go.”
“Room 17?”
Hammer froze.
It was tiny.
A tightening beneath his left eye.
But it was enough.
“So it does exist,” Elena said.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Hammer stared at the table.
“Who told you?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Because whoever told you is probably already in trouble.”
Elena felt the room narrow.
“What is Room 17?”
Hammer shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I know there’s a door.”
“Where?”
“Old maintenance corridor behind Supply Building Four.”
“And inside?”
“I’ve never been in.”
“But Holloway was.”
“Yes.”
“Beck?”
“Yes.”
“Cho?”
Hammer nodded.
“How do you know?”
“Because after each one went there, I got instructions.”
“From whom?”
Hammer’s jaw flexed.
Elena waited.
He looked at the mirror.
Then back at her.
“You think I enjoy being the monster?”
“I watched you pour soda over a stranger because you thought she couldn’t stop you. So yes, Captain, I think you enjoy parts of it.”
Hammer absorbed that.
For the first time, shame flickered across his face.
Then disappeared.
“I was told those three had security issues.”
“By whom?”
“I got notes.”
“What notes?”
“Printed. No signature.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“They knew things.”
“Like what?”
“My academy disciplinary record.”
Elena said nothing.
Hammer continued.
“My gambling debt from seven years ago.”
His voice dropped.
“A sealed complaint from my divorce.”
“Someone blackmailed you?”
“They never asked for money.”
“What did they ask for?”
Hammer looked at her.
“To make certain specific people fail.”
Elena felt her stomach tighten.
“Holloway.”
“Yes.”
“Beck.”
“Yes.”
“Cho.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Extra duties. Public correction. Bad evaluations. Isolation.”
“And you agreed.”
Hammer’s face hardened.
“I convinced myself it was counterintelligence.”
“You convinced yourself humiliating vulnerable troops was national security?”
“I was told they might be compromised.”
“By an anonymous piece of paper?”
“The first note included information nobody should have had.”
“That makes it blackmail, not orders.”
Hammer looked away.
Elena’s voice sharpened.
“You knew that.”
“Yes.”
The word was barely audible.
“Why didn’t you report it?”
Hammer laughed once, bitterly.
“Because I’m exactly the kind of man they knew I was.”
There it was.
Not redemption.
Recognition.
“I liked command,” he said. “I liked being feared. I liked winning. And once I did the first thing they asked, they owned me.”
Elena studied him.
“How many targets?”
“Five.”
She went still.
“I know about three.”
“Two never attempted anything.”
“Names.”
“Corporal Jenna Cooper.”
Elena remembered the young corporal who had flinched during the soda incident.
“And?”
Hammer hesitated.
“Sergeant Major Rodriguez.”
The room became silent.
Elena almost thought she had misheard.
“Rodriguez was a target?”
“Two months ago.”
“What were you told to do?”
“Nothing physical.”
Hammer rubbed his hands together.
“I was supposed to push him toward retirement.”
“Did you?”
“I tried.”
“And?”
Hammer gave a faint smile.
“He laughed at me.”
Elena thought of Rodriguez’s exhausted eyes.
His hesitation with the soda can.
His lowered gaze.
“What happened after that?”
“The notes stopped mentioning him.”
“Where are the notes?”
Hammer looked at her.
“I kept one.”
“Where?”
“My house.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
Elena stood.
Hammer watched her.
“You believe me now?”
“I believe you’ve given me something to verify.”
He laughed quietly.
“Still cold.”
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