The Genesis Plague (2010)

at a scorpion scurrying through the sand. Deliberating on how to inform Stokes about the mishap, he finally settled on sending a text message - short and sweet. The he shut the phone and slid it into the pocket of his flak jacket.
    Who was this detective that beat them to the archaeologist? Only someone on the inside could have sent him. Maybe Stokes had something up his sleeve. Seemed unlikely, because, even though Stokes wasn’t exactly the lucid soldier he’d known for so many years on the battlefield, he was no idiot. In fact, Stokes seemed hell-bent on covering his tracks, as evidenced by the way he’d commenced countermeasures the moment the cave was infiltrated by the militants. Considering the fact that the woman’s ID badge had been sitting next to Yaeger’s computer left little doubt as to the true culprit.
    Crawford bounded over to the command tent where Sergeant Jason Yaeger and his linebacker-sized tech were helping the marines prepare the recon robot. They were loading gas canisters into the rotary magazine of what resembled an oversized tommy gun mounted on the robot. Crawford stood back a minute, reined in his fury, and considered how to approach Yaeger. Unfortunately, this clever kid was no automaton - wouldn’t be doing this kind of work if he was. Any guy who passed the psych profile to go deep cover wouldn’t be the type to back down or conform to protocol. If Yaeger had an agenda, he certainly wasn’t going to divulge it. Autonomy was poisonous, thought Crawford. Especially on the battlefield.
    ‘Yaeger,’ Crawford finally called out.
    The mercenary looked up. ‘Yeah.’
    ‘Need a moment with you, son.’
    Jason handed the last gas canister to Meat, then went over to the colonel.
    ‘Walk with me,’ Crawford said, pacing away from the tent.
    Jason kept step beside him.
    ‘I need to know if you’ve spoken to anyone about what’s happening here.’
    Jason’s response was forthright: ‘You, air command …’
    ‘Don’t be coy with me, Sergeant,’ Crawford warned. He needed to be direct, without raising undue suspicion. ‘Someone on the outside . Did you communicate with non-military, civilians perhaps?’
    Jason was a master of reading between the lines. Best to answer him with a question. ‘Why would I do that?’ He could tell Crawford was unsure how to push the issue.
    Crawford turned and tried to decipher Yaeger’s gaze, but read nothing. ‘Until we confirm exactly who’s holed up in that cave, I want all communication running through me. I know you want this guy in there to be Al-Zahrani. But until we’re absolutely certain, this operation has to be airtight. Let me have your sat-com.’ He held out his hand.
    Jason merely stared at the hand. ‘You know I can’t do that, Colonel.’ He waited for the hand to go down, then looked deep into Crawford’s hard eyes. ‘No one is more sensitive to secrecy than me. Same with my men. We survive on trust. From what I see, none of your boys have surrendered equipment and it’s far more probable that a leak or mole might exist in your platoon. Don’t make me remind you that I’m accountable to a different authority. So if you have a concern, best for you to voice it. I don’t like playing games. Especially not when the stakes are so high.’
    Jason knew he struck a chord, because Crawford’s jaw was jutting out again.
    Folding his arms tight across his chest, Crawford shook his head like a disappointed parent. ‘Yeah, the stakes are high. Ten million high for you, isn’t that right? Free agents like you don’t get it, Yaeger,’ he said with venom. ‘True soldiers aren’t motivated by a 401(k) plan and bonuses. And don’t cry to me about your story, ‘cause I’ve already heard it: how your brother died in the Towers and, instead of grieving, you dropped out of Dartmouth and did your time with the marines. This little vendetta of yours’ - he twirled a finger up and down at Yaeger’s outfit - ‘seems too personal. One might say it compromises your objectivity.’
    Jason kept his cool, and his distance. ‘Since you’ve done your homework, you should know that my psych examination suggests otherwise,’ he replied levelly. ‘My profile shows that I approach my work quite clearly and without bias. Don’t forget that I have people too. And I’m starting to feel that I need to check your background.’ He saw Crawford’s jaw extend to the max. ‘I called for backup. I didn’t call for a dick-measuring