Sometimes, you needed caffeine more than taste buds.
“Do you think he’s lying?” he asked now.
Cooper nearly choked, put a hand over his heart and the cup down. He turned to see Dash sitting on the desk.
“Trying to kill me?”
“If I was…”
“Yeah, yeah, I’d already be dead. Got it.” Cooper picked at the edge of Lucky’s file. “I figured they’d send you.”
“I figured they’d just tell you.”
“That too. The fact that this is all confidential doesn’t matter to you?”
“Not to the CIA. And that’s who you chose to work for.”
“Lucky thinks I work for the Navy.”
“I’m betting he’s smart enough to realize that nothing around here is anything close to what it seems.”
Cooper rubbed his chin. “Didn’t realize the CIA could break the goddamned patient confidentiality rules.”
“Even if the man being investigated might be a risk to national security?”
Cooper sighed. “Either he’s got amnesia or he’s the best liar I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot of them. And none of you can fool me.”
“None of us?”
“You all have a tell.”
“What’s mine?”
“I’m not sharing that with you. But you do have one. And the reason you’re here has less to do with the job and more to do with your feelings for Lucky.”
“That’s a guess.”
“I don’t guess,” Cooper told him. “I don’t think he’s lying. I believe he’s got zero memory before four years ago. And I’m not sure if bringing his memory back is in anyone’s best interest.”
Dash nodded. “Keep trying anyway. No one’s interested in your personal opinions.”
“Fuck you, Dash.”
“Cooper…”
“If you think he’s just a job, you’re lying to yourself.”
Yes, he was, but the last person he’d admit it to was the company shrink. “Do you think he’ll get his memory back?”
“We’ve been trying a lot of techniques and he’s been open to them. But if sodium pentothal isn’t working—”
“Hypnosis?”
“He can’t be hypnotized.”
“Because he was trained not to be?”
“Maybe. Who can say? There are civilians who can’t be hypnotized.”
“I saw his brain scans.”
“There’s damage. Mild, but it’s near the memory bank. It makes sense that nothing else is really affected except his pain sensors.”
“What’s that about?” Dash asked.
“He feels pain more easily because his body’s always on alert—damaged nerve endings. Hard to tell if that’s from the brain injury or the beatings he endured.”
Dash couldn’t help but wince.
“I saw the scars. He stripped for me.”
Dash felt the lunge of jealousy, and he took a step toward Cooper before he could stop himself. Cooper merely grinned.
“Don’t hurt him, Coop.”
“Not in the job description, Dash. Unless he’s got plans to hurt his country.”
“So if he’s not getting his memory back, can he leave?”
“Soon, yes.”
“Got to be more to the story.”
“We’re not letting him out of the Navy yet. He can stay in town, meet with me, and the Navy will subsidize him with disability. Has to check in with me weekly.”
“What’s he supposed to do?”
Cooper shrugged. “He’s got full access to the gym.”
“Jesus.”
“I’m planning on releasing him to an apartment right off base next week. There’s no reason for us to keep him when his brain scan shows damage that supports his memory loss. He hasn’t slipped up a single time in two months—and trust me, we’ve done everything we could beyond recreating the torture. Plus, we’ve interrogated his SEAL teammates. There’s nothing suspicious. Nothing even remotely so.”
“Except that he was dumped near my family, Cooper,” he growled, and Cooper tilted his head in acknowledgement. “How can I ever trust that he wasn’t put there to hurt them?”
“I’m not saying the terrorist who captured Lucky didn’t try to turn him. We don’t know what happened between the boat and the beach, and we might never
“Do you think he’s lying?” he asked now.
Cooper nearly choked, put a hand over his heart and the cup down. He turned to see Dash sitting on the desk.
“Trying to kill me?”
“If I was…”
“Yeah, yeah, I’d already be dead. Got it.” Cooper picked at the edge of Lucky’s file. “I figured they’d send you.”
“I figured they’d just tell you.”
“That too. The fact that this is all confidential doesn’t matter to you?”
“Not to the CIA. And that’s who you chose to work for.”
“Lucky thinks I work for the Navy.”
“I’m betting he’s smart enough to realize that nothing around here is anything close to what it seems.”
Cooper rubbed his chin. “Didn’t realize the CIA could break the goddamned patient confidentiality rules.”
“Even if the man being investigated might be a risk to national security?”
Cooper sighed. “Either he’s got amnesia or he’s the best liar I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot of them. And none of you can fool me.”
“None of us?”
“You all have a tell.”
“What’s mine?”
“I’m not sharing that with you. But you do have one. And the reason you’re here has less to do with the job and more to do with your feelings for Lucky.”
“That’s a guess.”
“I don’t guess,” Cooper told him. “I don’t think he’s lying. I believe he’s got zero memory before four years ago. And I’m not sure if bringing his memory back is in anyone’s best interest.”
Dash nodded. “Keep trying anyway. No one’s interested in your personal opinions.”
“Fuck you, Dash.”
“Cooper…”
“If you think he’s just a job, you’re lying to yourself.”
Yes, he was, but the last person he’d admit it to was the company shrink. “Do you think he’ll get his memory back?”
“We’ve been trying a lot of techniques and he’s been open to them. But if sodium pentothal isn’t working—”
“Hypnosis?”
“He can’t be hypnotized.”
“Because he was trained not to be?”
“Maybe. Who can say? There are civilians who can’t be hypnotized.”
“I saw his brain scans.”
“There’s damage. Mild, but it’s near the memory bank. It makes sense that nothing else is really affected except his pain sensors.”
“What’s that about?” Dash asked.
“He feels pain more easily because his body’s always on alert—damaged nerve endings. Hard to tell if that’s from the brain injury or the beatings he endured.”
Dash couldn’t help but wince.
“I saw the scars. He stripped for me.”
Dash felt the lunge of jealousy, and he took a step toward Cooper before he could stop himself. Cooper merely grinned.
“Don’t hurt him, Coop.”
“Not in the job description, Dash. Unless he’s got plans to hurt his country.”
“So if he’s not getting his memory back, can he leave?”
“Soon, yes.”
“Got to be more to the story.”
“We’re not letting him out of the Navy yet. He can stay in town, meet with me, and the Navy will subsidize him with disability. Has to check in with me weekly.”
“What’s he supposed to do?”
Cooper shrugged. “He’s got full access to the gym.”
“Jesus.”
“I’m planning on releasing him to an apartment right off base next week. There’s no reason for us to keep him when his brain scan shows damage that supports his memory loss. He hasn’t slipped up a single time in two months—and trust me, we’ve done everything we could beyond recreating the torture. Plus, we’ve interrogated his SEAL teammates. There’s nothing suspicious. Nothing even remotely so.”
“Except that he was dumped near my family, Cooper,” he growled, and Cooper tilted his head in acknowledgement. “How can I ever trust that he wasn’t put there to hurt them?”
“I’m not saying the terrorist who captured Lucky didn’t try to turn him. We don’t know what happened between the boat and the beach, and we might never
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