Read Operation Zulu Redemption: Act of Treason - Part 4 for Free Online Page B

presented. He maintained his peace as the chairman handed over control of the mic to Representative Glick, who then called Francesca Solomon to the table.
    She moved to the seat beside her father.
    “Please state who you are and why are you here, for the record,” Glick said.
    “Thank you,” she said, resting her hands in her lap as she leaned forward. She had the demure thing down pat. “My name is Francesca Solomon. I’m a lieutenant in the United States Army. I work for INSCOM, as an analyst. I’ve been invited here by General Marlowe to provide testimony regarding the tragic bombing in Misrata, Libya, that took the lives of twenty-two innocents.”
    “Thank you, Miss Solomon,” Chairman Moller intoned, taking back control of the microphone. “Can you please explain why we are hearing from you again? The Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence heard from you more than four years ago during the first hearing and your information, I’m afraid, was scant at best.”
    “I would agree with you, Senator Moller,” she said, her tone respectful and placating.
    Oh she was good. Very good. She knew this game better than most. Maybe that was it—she had an agenda to get her foot in the door and secure a place on Capitol Hill with all the other snakes and sharks.
    “But the last six months have delivered not just an uptick in valuable intel but also some very disturbing and alarming information on Colonel Weston.” Francesca turned off her mic.
    “I have here,” Chairman Moller said, “a police report from an accident you were involved in a few weeks ago, Miss Solomon.”
    Poised and composed, she gave no indication of her emotional state. At least not from Moller’s viewpoint, but Trace could see her fingers twisting knots under the table.
    “It’s come to my attention that you have harbored an intense and perhaps perverted sense of vengeance against Colonel Weston,” Moller said, removing his glasses and looking up at her. “Is that true?”
    “It’s what some have claimed when they did not like my investigation efforts.”
    Moller pointed his glasses to the far left of the room, near the doors. “So, you’re going to tell me that these two gentlemen—please stand—are just exaggerating?”
    Trace glanced in that direction. Dressed in a pristine white uniform was Solomon’s eldest son, the one Trace had met in the office. Paul? Paolo. But the man beside him—the one that made Trace’s heart slow—“Brent,” Trace whispered. His little brother.
    What? When had Brent ever met Solomon? Had she been to his family? Drilled them full of questions?
    “I would say that my brother felt I was on the wrong track and wanted to embarrass me, sir.”
    Moller’s face reddened. “You’re going to tell this committee that a highly decorated Navy SEAL with multiple tours has nothing better to do on this Tuesday morning than harass his
little sister
?”
    Solomon lowered her gaze.
    “Thank you, gentlemen,” Moller said, as he glowered at Francesca. “Now, I hope to God you have more solid information for us, that you are not wasting our time, or recklessly attacking the reputation and career of another highly decorated service member.”
    Francesca wet her lips, slowly bringing her gaze up. “I have credible information to present, if you would hear it.” The tension and anger in her words were palpable.
    “Go ahead,” Chairman Moller said.
    “Thank you,” Francesca said, adjusting in her chair and shifting papers in front of her. “As an analyst with INSCOM, I had access to information and key assets on the ground in Libya at the time of the attack. It was my responsibility—”
    “Miss Solomon, we’ve already heard this,” Moller growled. “If you do not have new material—”
    “I do, sir,” she said.
    He huffed.
    She traced a finger down the page, looking for the right place to pick up. “Roughly two months ago, two women were murdered.”
    Trace clicked his mic on. Steadied the ramming