Page 148 of The Session

“Everything I knew. You were happy. You’d done all right for yourself.”

“When did you get the grant?” Tru asked Mark.

“A few weeks before Kevin died. I kept it on my dresser because I didn’t know what to make of it. Finally, when I realized I needed help with the athletic foundation, I thought maybe you guys could help.”

“And look where that got you,” Marnie said.

“Kevin wanted to bring us together,” Lightman said.

“Well, that wish came true,” Tru said.

“We need to take a deeper look at the phone to see what else is there,” Lightman said.

“I was in the middle of reading something. Maybe you could help me understand it,” Mark offered.

He pulled up an image and showed it to Max. It was a table with random letters and some abbreviations.

“Some of those look like airport codes,” Mark said.

“They are,” Lightman said. “The other numbers are tail numbers for aircraft. It looks like it’s showing times and locations where two aircraft were in the same place.”

“Got it.” Mark scrolled through the images and looked for a date that matched when Kevin was killed. “Two planes were on Eleuthera the day before Kevin died.”

“Let me look at that again,” Lightman said.

Mark handed the phone to his father.

“One of those planes is ours. It’s probably the one Morris used,” Lightman said.

“Who owns the other plane?” Tru asked.

“Mind if I take a look?” Marnie asked.

Mark showed her the screen. Marnie typed into her own phone, using the ship’s satellite to connect to the internet.

“That belongs to EuroLogix,” Marnie said.

“Isn’t that Safid’s company?” Tru asked.

“One of them. Goddamn it,” Lightman growled.

“So Morris is using Safid as his kill squad,” Mark concluded.

“Kevin and McCready—who else?” Tru asked.

“Can you check flight logs for when I was in Haiti?” Mark asked.

Marnie tapped her phone, waited, then looked up. “Safid’s plane landed the day before that little flyer went out with your name on it.”

Mark felt his blood run cold. It was one thing to talk about hit men and mercenaries in the abstract. It was another to realize he’d been that close to being killed by them.

“Jesus Christ, this is war,” Lightman shouted.

“Oh . . . goddamn it,” Marnie cursed.

Mark looked at her, face pale in the light of the phone.

“What is it?” Lightman asked her.