“His helicopter was shot down south of Bagram by the Taliban two days ago. There were no survivors.”
But there was something else White remembered. He recalled how convinced he was that Hammond had lied to him about the Apache helicopters catching up to the Taliban. How the Apaches had mowed down all the Taliban fighters responsible.
Yes, it was all coming back to him. It all made sense now.
White looked at Hammond. “You lied to me, sir. You came to see me in Germany. And you lied right to my face.” It was a statement, not an accusation.
“I didn’t lie, Clayton,” Hammond said. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
“What’s the goddam truth, then?” White asked, keeping his overwhelming desire to punch Hammond in the head in check.
“The Taliban fired the RPG, but it was Oxley who told them about your dad’s routine and the routes his helicopter usually took out of Bagram. We think the Taliban had numerous teams positioned alongside these routes, waiting for the right moment to strike.”
“Why are you telling me this now, six years later?” White asked. “Why couldn’t you tell me the whole story then? What changed? I swear to God, you better have a good reason.”
Hammond slowly nodded. “If I could go back in time, Clay, I would. Trust me on this.”
“Answer the damn questions,” White warned him.
Hammond raised his hands in surrender. “I was ashamed, Clay. We knew Oxley was coming after your dad. But we didn’t do enough to protect him. I didn’t do enough. I failed him, and I failed you.”
“And you failed my mom too,” White said.
“I know,” Hammond confessed. “Poor Carolyn.”
White’s mother had never been the same after Maxwell’s death. She’d been a champion during the funeral, and White had thought she was doing okay, but a few months later, she’d fallen into a deep depression. White had sold the family house and had rented her a nice and bright apartment a few minutes’ walk away from his own in New Haven. He’d visited her several times every week, oftentimes staying for dinner. Heather, Hammond’s wife, also stopped by often, a gesture White had been grateful for. Then one day, his hands full of grocery bags, he had found his mother lying on the floor. The medical examiner had called it an overdose. White had disagreed. His mom had died of overwhelming grief.
“I should have had the courage to tell you then, Clayton. I’m sorry.”
White stared into Hammond’s eyes; they were red rimmed with regret.
“Okay,” White said. “I believe you. So why are you coming forward with this now?”
“Because Roy Oxley orchestrated the operations against Veronica. The one at the Ritz, and the one in Palo Alto,” Hammond said.
White sat straighter in his chair. That Oxley sonofabitch had stolen his mom’s happiness. And now he wanted to steal Veronica from him?
No fucking way, White thought.
“Why Veronica? What does she have to do with all of this?” he asked.
“Nothing, except that she’s my only daughter,” Hammond replied.
“Then what have you done to him to warrant his wrath?”
“Because I was Maxwell’s commanding officer, Oxley came to me for help when your dad recommended that charges be brought against him. I refused to even listen to him.”
White took a moment to digest what Hammond had said. Then he changed the subject. “Did you send the three CID agents to Palo Alto?”
“A friend of mine did, as a favor.”
“General Girdner?”
“Yes,” Hammond replied. “After the attack at the Ritz, I thought it would be prudent to send someone to secure the SkyCU office since it’s one of the places Veronica visits often. Clearly I was right to think so, since the CID team was ambushed.”
“Someone must have been waiting inside,” White said. “They were all shot in the head, but one of them had also been shot twice in the chest. All of it before they could even draw their own firearms.”
“Oxley is resourceful, and dangerous.” Hammond said. “He won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”
“Veronica.”
“Yes,” Hammond conceded. “Veronica.”
“So what do you want me to do, sir?”
“Oxley currently lives in South Africa,” Hammond explained. “Among other business interests, he owns and operates Oxley International Shipping Lines. Does Le Groupe Avanti ring a bell?”