Slaying The Dragon - T.K. Leigh Page 0,24

craving water, something to put out the inferno raging inside me. My vision grew blurry, my legs weak, and I collapsed, praying my death would be quick and painless. Suddenly, an arm grabbed onto mine and I looked up, unable to focus on the face. For years, I searched my memory trying to recreate that face but I couldn’t.”

“But…,” I prodded, able to sense there was more.

“After college, I enlisted and eventually got reassigned to Cryptology. It didn’t take me long to realize nothing is what it seems. When a friend of a friend started asking about a girl named Serafina Galloway, I looked up the file. I was hesitant to go any further once I realized who Serafina Galloway really was. The daughter of the man responsible for my family’s death… The dragon. Of course, it wasn’t public knowledge, but it was fairly well-known within the intelligence community that Colonel Galloway was responsible for orchestrating hundreds of arms deals and the attack on the embassy.

“As I scanned through photo after photo in his file, I noticed something…a black onyx ring on his right hand. I remembered that ring. I had clutched onto that hand as I was pulled from the smoke. It was such a unique piece, I knew he had to be the person who rescued me from the fire. I pulled up all the files pertaining to the investigation into Galloway after the embassy attack, then reached out to the agent in charge. He indicated he had the same concerns but his hands were tied. He was told to close the case and keep his findings classified. Apparently, the army didn’t want a black mark on its face and wanted to keep Galloway’s alleged activities buried. They were all convinced he had died in the attack anyway.

“I contacted other people named in the investigation, but they all gave me the same response…almost to the word. This didn’t sit right with me, but I had exhausted all my resources. Then I realized there may be someone else who could help answer some of my questions.”

“And who’s that?”

He sighed. “Your mother. I went to talk to her.”

I closed my eyes, remaining mute.

“It was a few weeks later that she…” He trailed off. “I am so sorry, Mackenzie. I can’t help but think if I didn’t… Someone may have been tipped off that I was looking into Galloway, and maybe they followed me to her. I don’t know. It wasn’t until the night I was taken away that I realized I was being set up and someone was tasked with silencing your mother, too.”

Listening to him speak about those last few weeks reopened old wounds I never allowed to fully heal. But as much as I wanted to blame Charlie for it, like I had done for years, I just couldn’t. Not anymore. “What did you talk to her about?” I swallowed hard, trying to hide my unsteady tone.

“The time leading up to the attack on the embassy. Your father. It was during this conversation I realized he was still alive.”

“How? I didn’t even know he–”

“It was the way she spoke of him,” he interrupted. “I’ve studied human behavior and responses. People respond a certain way when speaking of someone who’s no longer with us. Your mother displayed none of those characteristics when speaking of your father. She responded as one may when talking about someone they see on a somewhat routine basis. She spoke of him in the present tense. That usually only happens when someone just died. However, at this point, he had allegedly been dead for eight years. Surely, she would have been speaking of him in the past tense. I pushed her to disclose his location and she denied he was alive, just as you did. A few days later, she called, asking me to meet her at a location several hours out of town. It was the same day I was taken away. The same day she…” His voice grew quiet. “All I can think is someone knew about us and was trying to keep us from helping each other figure out the truth of what really happened all those years ago.”

“And what’s that?”

He sighed. “I still don’t have a fucking clue. I’m trying, Mack, but I’m no closer to finding out who’s behind it than I was years ago. All the physical evidence still points–”

“To my father.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe he is behind it all,” I offered. As much as I didn’t want to think my father

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