ABSOLUTE LIE

True Colors: Book Eleven

Carolina Mac & D.K. Mac

Copyright © 2025 by Carolina Mac & D.K. Mac

ABSOLUTE LIE  - 1st ed.

ISBN – 978-1-990882-68-5

All rights reserved

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

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CONTENTS

Cast of Characters

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Cast of Characters

President of United States

Lee Armstrong

Vice President of United States

Nathan Walsh

Secretary of State

Jesse Quantrall

Director of the NSA

Blaine Dunnett

Director of the CIA

Benjamin Vipond

Director of the FBI

Colin Sarmento

President of Iran

Darius Ahmadi

Russian Defense Minister

Nickolai Petrovic

Head of Russian Armed Forces

General Vladimir Roscov

Russian Ambassador to Colombia

Peter Vadim

President of the Ukraine

Borya Sorokin

US Marshal SOG

Thomas Donovan

Chapter One

Wednesday, November 13th.

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler. Texas.

I left the house quietly, the sound of my boots on the gravel loud enough to wake the dead. Thought I was done with that world. Guess not.

Lingered by my kids’ bedroom door longer than I should have as I carried my gear down for the trip. They’d been asleep for hours, but as I passed their room, I had to take one more look.

The overwhelming feelings of loneliness from my last op almost stopped me from takin’ this one.

Almost.

Hopefully, this was my last job. If it was, I’d go out swinging for the fences, like my cousin Neil.

On my last trip to the truck, I thanked Ellis for the travel mug of coffee, gave her a hug and told her I’d be back soon. She tried to put on a brave face, but she couldn’t hide her worry.

“I’ll be back soon, Ellis, don’t you worry. If you need help takin’ care of the kids, reach out to Annie. She’ll send Sara over in a flash to give you a break.”

“We’ll be fine, Tommy,” she said with a wistful smile.

Tossed my gear bag and backpack into the back seat and placed my guitar case on top. The Cummins in my Ram rumbled to life, and I made my way to the highway. Merged into traffic. Glanced in the rearview mirror.

Nobody following yet. That’ll change soon enough.

As I drove down the highway, I was already remembering my recovery time with the kids. Singing on the front porch, drinking a Shiners and enjoying life. I felt if the world could wait just one more day, I’d be grateful.

But it couldn’t wait. It kept on burning, and people kept on killin’ each other, and I knew—I knew—there was almost nothin’ one guy could do alone.

Almost.

I knew that for a fact because I’d already tried it alone and realized there wasn’t enough of me to go around. The goddamned agencies—CIA, NSA, FBI, DOJ, and so on—used and abused me until I broke. So, I had to take a break, regroup and lick my wounds.

I tried to start my adult life over.

I had two of the most incredible kids a guy could ask for, and I was trying to build a family. The woman who made my heart overflow with love lived only a few miles away, and even though her boys were against our relationship, the time was coming soon when we could finally be together forever. We were done sneaking around. There was no way I would live my life as an absolute lie.

During my recovery, the agencies called daily, offering me jobs. I pretended to listen, but I wasn’t ready.

I thought they’d take the hint and the calls would stop, but they kept calling. Eventually, I stopped answering my phone.

I played in the sandbox with my kids, took them for walks, and held them safe while they rode Durango around the corral. I got addicted to their giggles, and at night, I played my guitar on the porch until they fell asleep, and then I carried them to bed.

People worried about me. Heck, I worried about myself because I talked to no one but my kids, Ellis and Annie, and I was okay with that.

As the days flowed into weeks, I continued to pretend I didn’t hear the phone. I deleted voicemails and tore up letters. Part of my healing, I told myself. It needed to be done.

Did I have the drive or the energy needed to fight the terrorist battle again? Sure.

In my heart, I wanted to help my country, but after my last injury, I wasn’t sure I’d hold together.

Mid-November, the CIA called, and I surprised myself and answered my phone. They caught me on a good day.

I listened, and they said all the right things. They spoke to Blacky and got permission. They assured me I could use my support team exclusively, and the CIA would provide them with all the intel they had in real-time. My team would arrange travel, including exfil.

That was a big one for me.

The CIA would pay for everything, but there was a catch.

There was always a catch.

I needed to fly to D.C. to hear about the op.

It was a power move by that dick, Director Ben Vipond, making me come to him. I saw through his shit a mile away but didn’t care. They were gonna pay me a shit ton, so I didn’t have to like him.

I agreed. I’d make the trip and listen to his story.

The lying fuck.

I kept telling myself that this job would be different. I’d do it my way with my people. People who wouldn’t let me down. People who wouldn’t abandon me in fuckin’ K-Bad when I needed them.

Not many people you could count on in this world, so when you found someone good, you held on tight.

This trip to Washington I’d be watching for them.

The liars.

The users.

The people crawling over others to get to the top of the broken political game.

I knew them now. I knew their names and where they lived and where they worked in the capital city.

Patriots in public but traitors in private.

I knew where the skeletons were buried because I dug the graves, just like they asked.

Last time in Washington, some of these fucks talked about me behind my back.

Does he know too much? Can Donovan be trusted?

Maybe yes, maybe no.

Depends on your crime of the day. But if any of them tried that shit like Garafino had, I’d take a lot of them down with me. I had names, dates and events all written down in my notebook, stashed away in the secret compartment of my gear bag.

Lots to think about on the flight.

The Blackmore Agency. Austin. Texas.

Blaine “Blacky” Blackmore watched the little blip move on his computer screen, indicating the tracker Annie had secured in the heel of Tommy’s boot ‘for safety,’ was working.

He was on his flight, which was taxiing onto the runway. In a few hours, Tommy would meet with CIA Director Vipond about their proposed op.

Annie was furious when she found out Blacky had agreed, in principle, to the op if Tommy accepted the job. She was adamant he wasn’t ready to work yet and made that very clear to Blaine.

But business had to continue, Mom, and shouldn’t we leave Tommy’s fitness up to Tommy?

Everyone agreed there was a marked change in Tommy since he got back from Afghanistan and Iran. It might have been the skull fracture. Tommy’s skull had mostly healed, but the kid was still different.

Something inside his head didn’t heal right.

Annie knew Tommy best and pointed out the signs to Blaine. “They’re all there if you’re willing to look.”

Blaine could hear her rising anger but just wanted his mother to stay out of it. “I hear what you’re saying, but are you sure you’re not overly protective of him for other reasons?”

That earned him a solid mind your business from Annie. She stormed out as Blacky apologized, but the damage was done.

That’s when Blacky called Vipond back and gave his permission for the CIA to offer Tommy an op. But now that Tommy was on board the plane, Blaine was having second thoughts.

There were signs.

“I should’ve said no.”

Dulles International Airport. Virginia.

I loved flying first class. First class passengers were the first ones on and off. The food was fantastic, and they gave me a hot towel to wipe my face after I slept.

Besides, the CIA said they were paying for everything, and who had more money than the CIA?

Had two beers on board but still couldn’t sleep. Fuckin’ head was aching. Doc said flying might bother me. Turns out he was right.

At my last checkup the skull fracture caused by the bullet was healed, but my troubles weren’t over like they should’ve been.

Could be something else making my head ache and not the scar across my fuckin’ brain. What could it be? I ran over the list.

Returning to D.C.? That would do it.

Going back to work after months off? That, too.

But neither one was worthy of a brutal headache like this one. Had to be flying.

I followed the mass of people out of the secured terminal into the pick-up area and saw my ride. Some guy sent by the CIA held up a sign with ‘Tommy Donovan’ written in large letters, his eyes searching for me. I watched him pushing through the crowd.

Didn’t appreciate the sign.

There might be hitmen still in D.C. waiting to take me out.

Just point a fuckin’ big red arrow at me.

“Put the sign down,” I whispered, and the guy jumped. I snuck up on him.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Let’s get out of here. I’ll follow you.”

Outside, he pointed to the black government sedan parked at the curb in a no-parking zone. He put my luggage in the trunk. I put my guitar in the back seat and climbed into the front.

I lowered the window and lit up a smoke.

“I’m gonna smoke.”

The driver tried to hide his dislike for me, but he needed to practice more. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

I didn’t give a flying fuck what he preferred. People looked different to me now. Sounded different too. Didn’t feel like it but I tried being polite. Wasn’t fuckin’ good at it. “You like your job?”

“It’s okay.”

“You hoping to be an agent or an operator some day?”

He shrugged. “Not sure I’ve got what it takes.”

“Do the job you don’t mind too much. Just do it and stay safe. Don’t go to that other place out of your comfort zone. You won’t like it.”

“Probably good advice.” He gave me a sideways glance like I was off my fuckin’ nut. So much for being polite.

I’m over it.

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

Wasn’t far to Langley.

“We’re here, Marshal. I’ll drop you at the front entrance. Need a hand with your luggage?”

“No thanks. I’m good.”

He parked and I got my bag and my guitar and walked in the front door.

Welcome to Spookville.

Signed in and put on my shiny badge.

The security guy looked at me like I was a piece of shit on his shoes. “Wait here.”

Another flunky came to escort me to Vipond’s office.

Down we went.

The elevator doors opened, and Lana Stoner was right there, staring at me.

Kinda creepy. Had a stalker vibe going.

She said hi, flashed her teeth—way too fuckin’ white to be natural—and told my junior flunky she assumed responsibility for me. As Deputy Director, she had that power.

Stoner had short, spiky black hair and big silver earrings, wearing a woman’s version of an Armani suit. She was hot, in a businesswoman kind of way. For all I knew, she was the cause of Vipond’s most recent divorce.

Benny Boy was definitely the kind of guy to dip his pen in the company ink.

Stoner was talking, and I had to focus. “Thanks for coming, Marshal Donovan. Can I offer you a coffee?” Not her job, but she obviously wanted to pump me for information.

Spooks can’t help themselves.

Time to practice being polite again. I flashed my nicest smile. “Black would be great, thanks.”

She poured me a coffee while we talked. “Last time I saw you, Marshal, you had a head injury. Is that a thing of the past?”

Like I was gonna discuss anything with her.

“It took a while, but it’s all good now. The headaches were the worst. Glad they’re gone.”

I was speaking her language now—lies.

She continued making small talk and asking questions until Vipond finished pretending to be important and busy.

The door of the Director’s office opened and Vipond rushed out apologizing. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Marshal Donovan. I couldn’t get rid of that phone call.”

Lie. Probably watching porn and jerking off. Mental note: Don’t shake his hand.

Vipond motioned me into the big office, gave a hand signal to Stoner and she closed the door.

You wanna sit together to break down the imaginary barriers between us. Lame approach, Benny. That won’t lessen how I feel about you. It’ll take more than that.

“What have you been up to since the last time I saw you, Marshal?” He flashed a used-car-salesman smile. Overdose of expensive cologne choked the air.

“Since you left me in Iran, you mean? Found my own way home and tried to stay alive while my skull glued itself back together.”

Benny Boy squirmed on his plush couch. “About that, I’d like to—”

I raised my hand to stop his yammering, and he flinched pretty bad.

That brightened my day a little.

“Save the bullshit. You wanted more out of me, and you were going to hold that ride home over my head until I did everything you wanted, regardless of my health. Assuming you came through at all.”

He fixed his gaze on me, and the real Ben Vipond came out. “No bullshit? Fine. That’s pretty accurate. I needed things done, and I had the best field agent in place. You would have done the same.”

I snorted loudly. “Like fuck I woulda. I’m not a two-faced fuck.”

Vipond inched back from me on the couch. “Is that why you came? To tell me you’re still pissed?”

I grinned at him like the cat about to eat the canary. “You offered me a job. Are you taking it back?”

Ben’s eyes popped wide. “Uh, no. If you’re still interested, we’d love to have you take care of it.”

“I’m here, ain’t I?”

“Yes, you are. Before we begin, I have to ask if your head injury is completely healed. We can’t have wounded agents in the field.”

“New rule, Ben? Seemed to be all the rage in Iran.”

He didn’t like that one.

Hate these fuckin’ games.

“No bullshit, remember? You already peeked in the doc’s files, so you know everything. Shall we get to it?”

Ben had his hand on the back of the couch. “One last thing—are you going to kill me?”

I drained my coffee and set my cup on the table. “Not right now, Ben. I’m not saying no, but I’m trying to find out about this job, and you keep weaseling around it. Shit or get off the pot, man.”

Vipond exhaled loudly, then nodded. He stood and walked to his side of the desk, and I took the seat in front.

He picked up the intercom and got us fresh coffee and pastries. Some staffer was gonna put it on the sideboard, but I waved them over and made space on Vipond’s desk.

He fuckin’ hated that.

I fixed a fresh cup, grabbed a raspberry turnover, and motioned for Benny Boy to start.

Vipond was ready to go. Only me and him. Nobody else was being read in. This would be a good one.

“All set?”

“An hour ago.”

“Been to Colombia, Tommy?”

“Sure. Ain’t one of my favs.”

“But you’re familiar with parts of the country?”

“Yep. Bogota. The Cap. I know how to get into Panama through the Darien. Panama I know better. Colombia is next to Venezuela—my least fav of the two. Fuckin’ hate Caracas. Shit like that. Not a lot of time in Colombia, but a minute is too much. Who’s gonna show up there?”

He stared, giving me the look I was getting used to.

“We’ll get to that as soon as I explain the scenario to you.”

“It’s your show, Ben. Fire away.”

Director Vipond opened a file. “Ten days ago, we caught wind of a possible meeting between some high-value targets. Six days ago, our source said that the meeting is a ‘go.’ The host city is Bogota—”

“Fuckin’ hate Bogota,” I mumbled.

“—and our target is already on the move from Russia, so the clock is ticking.”

I looked at Vipond. Something wasn’t adding up. “How long’s the flight from Moscow to Bogota?”

Ben shrugged. “About fourteen hours, give or take. Why?”

“Why would he leave a week before the meeting?”

Vipond’s manicured eyebrows scrunched together. “Maybe he has stuff to do.”

“Not it. Tell me more about the target.”

Vipond flipped through some pages in his file, then stopped and read. “Our source says the Russian is extremely paranoid, even in his own country. We’re not tied into the Columbian facial recognition database, but we have teams at all the international airports around Bogota as we speak, so once he pops his head up, we’ll know. As soon as we do, we’ll tell you where to strike.”

Something’s not adding up, but I can’t seem to put my finger on it.

“Why is this guy so paranoid?”

Vipond thought about it a moment. “He’s highly placed in the Russian government, but more importantly, he’s the man reported to be the mastermind behind the war in the Ukraine. There have been several assassination attempts, all of which he survived, but barely. A few bullet wounds and dodged an explosion—things like that. He rarely goes out now and usually has a phalanx of guards around him.”

“Wow. A pretty big fish, then.”

“Agreed.”

“How many of those near misses were you guys?”

“No comment. I realize it’s not a lot to go on, but do you have any thoughts thus far?”

I sipped my coffee while I thought. “A few ideas, but I need to massage them more. Bottom line—really bad guy, we want him off the map, or the war will never stop.”

“Correct.”

“Lee know about this?”

“No. Will you do it?”

“Can I think about how I’d do it before I say for sure?”

“Okay.” Vipond smiled. “You didn’t give me a flat no. That’s encouraging.”

“The why is more important than the who, and assuming you weren’t lying, I think I got my why.”

“Did I mention this guy is a real bastard?”

“More or less, and once I think on this, I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds good. Tell me, Tommy. Why the change in attitude? You used to be a gun-for-hire, but now you need to think about things.”

“I don’t work without a fuckin’ reason anymore. You bastards have sent me on too many half-assed personal vendettas. Now, I’m paying attention and doing my homework, so I won’t get fucked over anymore. If you try, we’re gonna have problems. Clear?”

Director Vipond sat back in his chair. “Understood. Do your homework and look at the job as a whole. Let me know as soon as you can. Do you think you’ll be doing this job alone?”

“Always alone when it comes down to the deed, but not alone in all ways.”

I knew exactly why he was asking. Same reason there was no one in this meeting.

Reduce his liabilities.

“Ops like these are always done alone, Director. You know that.”

As if I’m gonna tell you my real plan, Benny Boy. You’re just paying for it.

I told him what he wanted to hear, but as I grinned, Vipond squirmed in his seat. “Right,” he said. “I’ll leave it to you to sort out.”

I stood. “Do I have a hotel?”

“Sure. Stoner’s staff took care of all that for you and she’ll give you a driver too.”

“Thanks. I’ll have to make some calls and do some thinking. You have a package ready?”

Vipond handed me a manilla envelope. “Here you go. ‘Your eyes only’, as you’d expect. Let me know tomorrow what you decide, but for my part, I hope you agree to the op. This job is critical to altering the war in the Ukraine.”

Vipond extended his hand. I just stared at it, then walked toward the door. “I haven’t forgotten what you didn’t do for me in K-Bad, Vipond.”

He looked visibly shaken.

He walked me out and picked up an envelope with my name on it from his assistant’s desk. “This looks like your hotel reservation, Marshal. I’ll get someone to grab your luggage and take you into the city.”

Vipond glanced at my guitar case sitting in one of the waiting room chairs. “This yours?”

“Yep. When I’m in D.C. I usually play at the Cottonwood Club downtown.”

Vipond grinned. “I’ve been there a couple of times. Southern Rock. I’m a big fan.”

“Yep.”

“Love to hear you play.”

“Free country. Come on down if you want.”

“Come on, Donovan. I’m trying to connect here. If we’re going to work together, we need some sort of relationship.”

Cute. He wants to be friends. I got plenty.

But I needed him if I was doing this job. “Tell you what—you can sit with me and the band at our table.”

Director Vipond broke out with a huge grin. “It’ll be the most fun I’ve had since I signed my divorce papers.”

Bonding time.

“Same. I hated signing those fuckers. Made me puke.”

“I can’t believe you’re divorced. You’re so goddamned young.”

“Signing the papers don’t take that long.”

Vipond chuckled.

Hay-Adams Hotel. Downtown. D.C.

The CIA driver dropped me off at Hay-Adams and the bellman met me at the door and helped me with my luggage. All I carried was my guitar case. Didn’t trust it to other people too often.

I tipped the bell guy, and he left my room and as soon as he was gone, I took everything out of my suitcase and guitar case and searched for tags.

Found two. Made me smile.

My new scanner worked like a charm. Ran over the entire room and ensuite and feeling the space was clean, I called Annie and checked in.

“How was Benny-boy, sugar?”

“Predictable. Me and him only. His girl, Stoner, tried to pump me for info before I went in, but I danced around her. Once I was with Ben, I took a couple of jabs at him about him leaving me in K-Bad.”

“Good for you. How’d he react?”

“Not as bad as when I told him I was probably gonna kill him.”

Annie’s giggle was like a songbird to my ears. “Not the best idea to say to a potential employer, but I’d be surprised if you didn’t. You interested in his op?”

“Maybe. I’m thinking on it. He got weird and tried to be friends when he found out I played guitar and sang. He’s comin’ to the club tonight to hear the band.”

“Watch that viper, sugar. His intentions are never obvious.”

“Always.”

“Never pictured him as a Southern rock fan. Looks more like the Celine Dion type. I don’t like the way he wears his hair. It looks weird like he’s trying too hard to be cool.”

“I never looked at his hair. He says he’s a big fan but I’m not holding my breath that he’ll show up. I’m going to have fun. The Cottonwood Club is my safe place.”

“Have fun, sweetheart. Wish I was there with you.”

“Me too.”

“You seeing Lee tomorrow?”

“Might if I have time. It’s more important for me to talk to Jesse before I decide on the op.”

“Sure. That will be helpful. He should know what’s going on in all the worst places around the globe. Ask how he’s doing in his new spot.”

“I will, babe. Take a survey of the Creed for me and see if they’re available. If I say yes to the op, I’m coming home to put it together at my farm.”

“Have you talked to Kamps?”

“Not yet. I’ll be taking Lukas and four more. Thorne, Nick, Aaron and I want Cage most of all, if the playoffs are over, and Neil is back in Austin. Can you check on that for me?”

“I’m writing this down so I can get the calling done for you, sugar.”

“Thanks, babe. I love you.”

“Same.”

Cottonwood Club. Downtown D.C.

I got to the club about twenty minutes before nine to give me a little drinking time before I had to get on the stage.

While I helped Harry and the band set up, I chugged a couple of Coors—Annie’s brand and I’d guzzled gallons of it. I liked Texas beer better, but I couldn’t find Shiners in D.C.

Halfway through the second set, I saw Vipond wandering around looking for a place to sit. Two suits watched him and stayed close to the wall so they wouldn’t center him out.

Surprised to see him here, but maybe he figured he’d buddy up and I’d be more likely to take his job. All these agency fuckers played you for their own gain and they were good at it. I was better at mine.

The club was at capacity. No tables.

Standing room only along the walls.

Vipond was disguised in jeans, a leather jacket and a Cardinal’s ball cap. Might have had a chance if his jacket didn’t say Gucci.

I pointed to the band table in front of the stage, and he gave me a nod and sat down.

We finished the set, broke for a beer and I introduced Ben to the boys. “This is Ben. Fan of southern rock.”

“You boys sound great tonight. Can I buy you a round? You’ve got quite a crowd in here. No open tables.”

“Never is when Tommy is here. He has his own set of fans. Female fans.” Harry laughed. “Some of them are wearing his T-shirts.”

“No way,” said Ben. “I want to see one of those girls wearing the T-shirt.”

The server came with the tray of beer and Ben’s shot of bourbon. He gave her his credit card. She ran it through the machine on her tray and smiled. “Pleasure to have you here, Director Vipond.”

He put his finger to his lips. “Just call me Ben.”

“Sure, Ben. Nobody will know you’re here.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Who’s your buddy, Tommy?” Harry gave Ben a hard stare. “Delia seems to know him.”

“A fan named Ben. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Sure. No hassle, Ben. Glad to have you.”

“Thanks, I don’t get out much.” He laughed.

Never should’ve invited him.

Chapter Two

Thursday, November 14th.

Hay-Adams Hotel. Downtown. D.C.

I woke up hungover. Same old. Too much beer and not enough sleep. I couldn’t afford to sleep until my head cleared. Too much to do to get ready for the op.

Waiting on room service to bring me coffee, ham and eggs and a stack of toast, I used the time to grab a quick shower. I rushed through it—my hair taking more time than anything else—and my timing wasn’t that far off.

I grabbed the door in my boxers, tipped the waiter, sat down to eat breakfast while it was hot. While I drank my coffee, I called Jesse.

“Tommy, are you calling from Texas?”

“No. I’m here in D.C., boss, and I need to talk to you about something this morning. Can you squeeze me in for half an hour?”

“Let me look at the schedule Olivia sent me. It arrives early every morning.” He came back and said, “Really early or not until close to noon.”

“Has to be early. I’ve got to give Vipond an answer and he’ll be calling me soon.”

“I’m in the car on the way to the Truman Building. How soon can you get here?”

“I’m at Hay-Adams. It won’t take me long to get to you. Thanks, boss. See you soon.”

I picked up my room key and was on my way out when Vipond called.

“Marshal, I wasn’t sure if you’d be up yet.”

“A little hungover but I have an early meeting. Did you like the band?”

“Sure did. That house band is excellent. Don’t see why you aren’t pursuing music full time, Donovan. You’ve got the goods.”

“Thanks.”

There was a moment’s hesitation before Ben continued. “Have you reached any decisions yet, or do you need more time?”

“I have an early meeting with Jesse Quantrall and then I’ll decide. I’m on my way to his office now.”

“Secretary of State? You’ll have to talk around the op itself. Remember that.”

“I fuckin’ know what classified means. I never forget.”

“I’m a little surprised you know the Sec well enough to have an early morning chat with him.”

“Yep. I do. Did a couple of things with him in Texas.”

“Ah, yes. The Texas connection. Holding strong.”

Bit of sarcasm, but in a joking way.

I let it pass.

Harry S. Truman Building. D.C.

I got to the Truman building fast and found Jesse’s office easy enough. As Secretary of State, he was kind of a big deal.

Jesse was already in his office working. His assistant welcomed me when I walked into her area and smiled when I told her my name. “Marshal Donovan to see the boss.”

She was really pretty, with a fantastic smile.

Jesse’s in trouble.

“The Secretary told me he was squeezing you in before his first appointment, Marshal. You can go right in. Would you like coffee?”

“I would, thanks. Black is fine.”

Still hungover.

Jesse grinned when I walked into his office, and he pointed to the chair in front of his desk. “Not sure why you’re here, Tommy, but I’m anxious to find out.”

Jesse’s pretty assistant came in and handed me my coffee, then closed the door. “Talk to me about the war in the Ukraine, boss. I need to know the key players.”

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh. Heavy topic for so early in the morning. Must be important when you’re dealing with the Russians, son. Let me find my notes from yesterday.”

Jesse rifled through papers on his desk and finally found the folder he needed. “Based on our latest intel, the Russian Defense Minister is Nickolai Petrovic, who is the head of the snake. He’s the one running the war and whispering strategy in the president’s ear. He’s also directly responsible for killing thousands of men, women and children, having ordered several assaults against schools and hospitals. He’s as immoral as they come and a very dangerous man.”

“I’ll write his name in my book. Who else is important?”

“The head of the Russian armed forces is key. An aggressive general named Vladimir Roscov. He’s the strategist working under the defense minister, and equally responsible for killing thousands. They have to be stopped or pushed back before any peace talks can be initiated.”

Jesse folded his hands across his chest and waited for me to tell him what was going on and I couldn’t.

“Your turn, Tommy.”

“Sorry, boss, but I can’t tell you what’s goin’ on, and frankly, the less you know, the better. I can tell you I’m not goin’ to the Ukraine if that helps.”

Jesse nodded slowly. “I realize there are things you can’t share, and I appreciate that you want to shield me from whatever it is you’re doing. I find it encouraging that you’re considering the key players, Tommy.”

“Hope I can help you out, boss.”

“Time frame?” Jesse stood up to walk me to the door.

“Week or so. I have to go home and pull it all together.”

“Best of luck, son. We need a wrench in the Russian buttermilk badly. Will you tell me when you’re done?”

“You’ll know, boss.”

He laughed as I headed to the elevator.

Oval Office. West Wing. D.C.

From the Truman building, I figured I could squeeze in coffee with Lee, then pack at the hotel and make my plane back home. Timeline would be tight, but I wanted Lee’s views on the war before I talked to Vipond and gave him my final decision. I tried Lee’s cell from the cab.

“Tommy, where are you?”

“On my way to you. Coming for coffee. Do you have time for me?”

“Yes. When you get here, tell Tara to interrupt me and I’ll talk to you in the empty office down the corridor.”

“Thanks, boss. Won’t take long.”

When I got to the West Wing, I talked to Bethany for a couple of minutes, gave her a hug, then told Tara Cabello to interrupt the president as prearranged.

Lee came rushing out of the Oval Office and we stood inside the empty office down the hall for our little chat. “I’m so glad to see you, Tommy. I was frantic when you were stuck in Iran and there was next to nothing I could do to get you home.”

You sure as fuck didn’t try hard to get me out. Thank God for Annie.

“I’m okay now, boss. Had a few weeks to recover.”

“And your head injury?”

“Healed, but still the odd headache. Mostly good.”

“I’m glad.”

I didn’t have time for too much chatter. “What’s your view on the war in the Ukraine, boss?”

Lee frowned. “That’s out of the blue. Why that question?”

“It’s important for me to know your position, boss. Make sure we’re aligned.”

“How important, Tommy? Are you planning to do something relative?”

I shrugged and he knew right then I wasn’t going to tell him. Better if he didn’t know.

“Russia shows no signs of easing hostilities in Ukraine. It’s rich in natural resources, which Russia and its allies covet. But if it fell into the hands of the Russia / China alliance, that would give them a huge edge, globally. However, if we send troops to Ukraine to support them, we’ll start World War Three. I’m doing all I can covertly, but Russia is a nuclear power and our greatest threat to a world war. I’m walking a very fine line.”

“Okay. That’s helpful. Do you think Petrovic is behind the war?”

“Yes, he is. He uses General Roscov to get the dirty work done, but it’s Petrovic in my opinion. He’s pressing his views on the president, and he’s pretty much been given carte blanche.”

“Thanks. Glad we had this chat.”

“You can’t tell me what you’re working on?”

“No. Because I don’t want to add more worries, but I’m hoping it will be helpful, boss.”

Lee nodded. “Thank you, son.”

Hay-Adams Hotel. Downtown. D.C.

After talking to Lee, I went back to the hotel and packed up to go home. I ordered lunch and coffee from room service and called Vipond while I waited for my food.

“Marshal Donovan. How was your chat with Secretary Quantrall?”

“Pretty good. Jesse knows what he’s doing. I stopped by and talked to Lee for a minute too, just to be sure, and I’m going to go ahead with the op.”

“Wonderful. I’ll send the package with all the final details to you immediately.”

“Great. If I could have it here within the hour. I have a flight booked for Texas and I’ll put the whole thing together when I get home and let you know when I’m leaving.”

“That’s great. I’ll courier the package to you now. Did you tell me where you were staying?”

“Hay-Adams. Room eight-ten.”

“Of course. I must’ve forgotten.”

“Really? The guys who tagged my room coulda told you exactly where I was.”

Vipond had no reply.

“As soon as I’m ready, I’ll go south and do recon. If there are any changes, let me know right away and I’ll make adjustments.”

“Copy that.”

I disconnected the call.

I ate lunch, drank coffee and as soon as the package arrived by courier, I shoved it into my guitar case without looking at it.

I checked out of the hotel.

Cherrywood. Austin.

Gained an hour on the trip to Texas and arrived before four o’clock. Lots of time to drop into Aunt Gail’s house to talk to Lukas about the op.

Still warm enough to sit on the porch with a coffee and go over the details. I gave Lukas an overview of everything I had so far. “Blacky will have to approve me going.”

I could feel the anger rising again. Not Lukas’s fault. Just the memory of being stranded in Afghanistan. “I’m not fuckin’ around anymore, Lukas. We go in strong and take care of each other. I learned that the hard way, with your help. I’ll do the deed, but I need people I can count on to fill in the gaps and keep me on this side of the dirt.”

“Copy that, bro.”

“Annie’s calling the Creed for me.”

“Do we need them?”

“Yeah, we will. I want everyone to meet at Kamps’ place tomorrow around four. That way, you can get some sleep after your shift.”

“Sure. Four is a good time for me.”

“I’m glad you’ll be with me on this one, bro. It might be one of the toughest I’ve done.”

“I’m not sure you’re ready to work.”

“Some days are better than others.”

Enough said.

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler. Texas.

I drove home and after an hour of kid time, I called Kamps. “Hey, man. I took the op.”

“Okay.” He sounded hesitant. “Are you sure you’re ready to work?”

“Sure as shit in the sunshine.”

“Good enough for me. Annie contacted the Creed, and they’re all in. They’re just waiting for a day and time for the first briefing.”

“Glad to hear it. Tomorrow at four at your place. We’ll sketch out the mission and arrange recon duties.”

“Do you have the final package?”

“I have it with me.”

“I need it.”

“Should’ve dropped it off when I landed and I was still in the city. My bad.”

“Bring it tomorrow. For now, tell me the name of the target and I can get started.”

Gave him the target’s name.

“Damn. Go big or go home. What else you got?”

“I got a theory, and I need you to do the legwork to confirm. It’ll take a lot of digging, but if anyone can help me figure this out, it’s you.”

I explained my theory. Kamps asked a lot of questions and took down notes.

A half-hour later, Kamps chuckled. “Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting. You gave me a ton of work, but I’ll get on it right away.”

“Good luck, brother. If I’m right, we’ll be one step ahead of the Russians.”

“If you’re right, you’re a fucking genius, Tommy.”

Well, we all know that’s a load of shit.

Boots & Saddles Roadhouse. Giddings.

On Annie’s break we sneaked into her office and talked about the op in private. She was worried about the complexity of the mission, and all the things that could go wrong. She had a list, and it was a long one.

“This one is extremely dangerous, sugar. So many things could run amok. What was Vipond’s attitude when he talked about the mission?”

“He told me it would be best done alone.”

“So you’re the only one who knows about it and if it goes to grass, you’re dead and nobody knows it was his big fat idea.”

I grinned. “Won’t he be surprised when he gets our bill?”

“Still,” Annie said, “There’s so much that could go wrong.”

Sensing she was stressed, I led her over to the sofa and took her mind off the op as only a husband can.

When we were exhausted and Annie lay still in my arms, she whispered, “Vipond is on my hate list.”

“It’s his hair you don’t like.”

“I hate a lot more than his hair.”

Chapter Three

Friday, November 15th.

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler. Texas.

Ellis quickly fell into her old habits once we settled into the new house, and for the most part, it was business as usual. But there was no denying that she was pining after Farrell.

I caught her a few times drinking her coffee, staring out the window, lost in thought. There was only one thing that would make someone think that hard about someone else—a broken heart.

No way I was interfering. They’d have to put that Humpty Dumpty back together by themselves. I had my own shit to deal with.

Breakfast was great, as usual, and we talked about other things, like how long I might be away and the basics of my upcoming ops. Ellis read stacks of spy books, mystery novels and anything with police procedures, and loved when I shared even the tiniest morsel. Nothing to put her in danger, but it made her imagination soar.

“I’ll get back as quick as I can, Ellis, but like always, no one knows how these things will turn out. Sometimes, they’re smooth as glass, but lately, things have come out of the blue to fuck me over.”

Ellis nodded as she sipped her coffee. “You’ve endured more than your fair share of mishaps lately, but this one might be better. Don’t worry about us while you’re away. We’ll be fine.”

I got up from the table and walked toward my office. “Before I leave, I wanna go over the control panel for the new security system one more time. I told Blacky to install the best of the best for us, but it ain’t worth shit if you don’t know how to use it. I had trouble in the beginning but got a solid handle on it now.”

Ellis stood and followed me. “You can show me again if you like, but I’m very tech-savvy, not to mention I actually read the manual.”

“You did?” I asked, surprised.

Ellis grinned at me as she sipped her coffee. “Of course.”

“Do you know how to buzz somebody through the gate? We haven’t really had visitors since it was installed for you to practice. Want me to drive up a few times? There’s even a camera pointed at the gate, so you can see who it is.”

She patted my forearm. “I’ll be fine, Tommy. Between the tech you had installed and the security fence around the house, barn and along the road, we’re the safest family for a hundred miles.”

“I hope so, because I spent a fuck ton of money to make our farm safe.”

“I feel safe, Tommy. I lock the doors at night and set the alarm. I’m not afraid of anyone breaking in and hurting me and the children.”

But you should be.

Right after breakfast, I pushed away from the table to make a list of the ordnance I needed. Started me wondering about CIA contacts in Bogota and I called Kamps to see what he could come up with.

“Hey, Tommy. I’m trying to line up a bit of extra backup and a safehouse if y’all need it. I should have it all in place before y’all leave.”

“Thanks, appreciate the support.”

“We’ll talk more about it when you’re here for the meeting.”

I ended the call to Kamps and Farrell called from the station wanting to meet me for lunch at Pablo’s.

“We need to talk, Tommy. I messed up and I want to set things straight before you leave on this mission.”

“You mean you want to clear your conscience in case I don’t come back.”

“Could be close to the truth, but it makes me sound like a prick.”

The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

Blaine picked up a call and smiled when the NSA logo filled the screen. “Granddad, I’m happy you called.”

“Raining here again in D.C. So depressing. I’m sure it’s bright and sunny in Texas.”

“You are correct on the weather, sir. What can I do for you?”

“Mostly chitchat, son. Speculating on what the CIA is so adamant about Tommy doing for them. After what happened in Iran, it’s surprising.”

“You heard about that?”

“I’m the NSA, son, and have been in this game far longer than anyone else. Heck, I know the grandfathers of the people in power, if you know what I mean. My roots run deep, and gathering intel is like breathing for me.”

Blacky chuckled. His Granddad was truly the last bastion of the old regime. “I’ll tell you what little I know. Tommy is keeping everything close to vest and compartmentalizing the op as he sees fit. Probably has something to do with how people have screwed him over in the past. He has trust issues now. By having control over the op, he ensures that no one can leave him twisting in the wind.”

Director Dunnett cleared his throat. “I hate that I’m grouped in with those other people. There are rumors about how horribly he was treated during his last op, and I realize now how poorly I treated him when he was under my purview.”

“You two have moved past that, which I’m grateful for. I know he thinks very highly of you still.”

“That’s nice to hear.”

“As far as intel on his op, I know very little. Tommy doesn’t want the CIA to be involved in the operational aspect of the mission because he doesn’t trust them. That’s where our agency comes in. We’re his safety net. Kamps is taking care of logistics, I’m helping him with operations, and Annie is arranging a support team once he’s in-country, wherever that might be. Tommy did say he didn’t want anyone to know his plan, so please don’t divulge any of this. My turn for a question—why do you want to know?”

“I was made aware that Tommy had a meeting with Ben Vipond at Langley, which I found curious. When something strikes me as curious, it usually means there’s more to it. Without giving too much away, I can say that I have a list of priorities to deal with, and this news made me wonder if I might soon be able to put a line through one of them.”

“You’re entitled to your secrets, Granddad. Let’s talk in a day or so and compare notes more. Sound good?”

“Sounds like an excellent idea, son. I look forward to chatting with you again soon.”

The line went dead, and Blaine immediately called Annie’s cell.

“Hi, Mom. I was just talking to Granddad, and he was asking about Tommy’s next mission for the CIA. I told him I knew very little, which is true because Tommy isn’t sharing. Have you heard anything?”

“Sounds like you and I know about the same, sugar. The last few missions left Tommy feeling unappreciated, especially when he was left out there to die. That can leave a bad taste in a person’s mouth, you know?”

“I can only imagine,” Blacky said, “but if you know anything, it’ll help me support Tommy better.”

“I’m sorry I don’t know the details, sugar, but I do know the first meeting is at Kamps’ place at four o’clock. You could be there if you wanted to insert yourself into the op.”

“I can’t do that.”

“It’s up to you, Blaine, but I have faith Tommy will let you know if his plan doesn’t include you being there for whatever reason. I’d prefer that you push in and he asks you to leave, rather than Tommy scrambling in the middle of the op, needing support ASAP that you could have arranged.”

“What about Director Vipond and the CIA?”

“Benny-boy thinks Tommy’s operating on his own and has accepted that the Blackmore Agency will provide support and logistics for the majority of the op once our boy is in-country. The CIA is only responsible for providing classified intel and, frankly, paying for all of it. What Director Vipond doesn’t know is that Tommy will be providing his own on-the-ground support in the form of Lukas and the Creed.”

Blacky was stunned into silence for a moment. “I didn’t know that. I was aware of Lukas’s involvement and thought that was it. That explains so much now.”

“What does it explain, sugar?”

“Tommy asked me to add a paragraph indicating he had the right to enlist whoever he thought was necessary to complete the mission safely. No one at the CIA questioned it. They simply signed it and sent it back.”

“Sounds like Tommy’s learning how to play their game. I’m glad he’s setting up a support network because I still have concerns about his mindset.”

“I know you are worried about his physical readiness—you made that crystal clear—but now you’re worried about his mental wellbeing, too? He says he’s good to go, and we have to trust him.”

“Sugar, that boy had a wicked skull fracture, and there’s no way it’s properly healed yet. I don’t care what the X-rays say. Trust me, I know because I’ve lived it. Whenever we’re in the same room, or he’s at the bar at Boots, I find myself watching for those telltale signs that signal there’s more damage than just what we see.”

“What do you look for?” asked Blaine.

“I watch to see if he’s speaking differently or using words and phrases he has never used before. And by never, I mean in his life. Those are the easiest clues for me to spot because I know him so well.”

“You think the fracture has changed the way he thinks?”

“We have no way of knowing what has changed yet. That’s hidden down deep and will only come out when he loses control. Then we’ll say wow, I never thought Tommy would do that.”

“Do you believe that moment is coming, Mom?”

“I do, and that’s what scares me, sugar. In my heart, I know it’s coming.”

“Damn it. I wish you’d never told me that. That’s downright terrifying.”

Oval Office. West Wing. D.C.

Secretary of State Quantrall arrived at the Oval Office and Tara Cabello showed him in. Lee glanced up from the Resolute Desk that he had come to love and gave Jesse a smile.

“Jesse, come in and have a seat. I’m delighted to see you.”

“Thanks.” Jesse pushed back in the chair and crossed his hand-tooled boots at the ankle. “You said on the phone this was about Tommy?”

“Yes. I realize he’s doing something covert, and I’ve done a little investigation of my own.”

Jesse laughed. “And? What have you turned up with your sleuthing?”

“Ranger Blackmore tells me Tommy was approached by Ben Vipond for something of the utmost importance.”

“But no clue what the mission involves?”

“No,” said Lee, “and I’m not sure I want to delve into CIA business. When you do, it always turns out that you were better off not knowing and you should’ve kept your nose out of it completely.”

Jesse laughed.

“Ominous.”

“I’m worried about his safety,” said Lee. “Did Tommy talk to you before he went back to Texas?”

“He did. He insisted on an early morning talk before he left for the airport.”

“And the subject?” asked Lee.

“The war in the Ukraine. He quizzed me on the main players and the direct impact each of them were having on the war.”

“Bingo,” said Lee. “The same thing he talked to me about before leaving for Texas.”

“Hmm…” said Jesse. “I don’t know what to think. Do you think the CIA is going to make a play to stop the war?”

Lee shrugged and immediately regretted it. The bullet wound in his shoulder wasn’t healed enough for casual shrugging. He winced.

“Goddammit, Jesse. I hope to hell Tommy isn’t in over his head.”

“Would Director Vipond send him into something like that without an extraction plan and plenty of support?”

“Without blinking an eye,” Lee replied, “and Tommy knows that firsthand. He’s experienced Director Vipond’s lack of respect for field assets. Tommy wouldn’t trust him as far as he could throw him.”

Lee almost shrugged again. “Who knows for sure, but my guess is money and revenge. Tommy is very well compensated for his efforts because he is the best. The more money he makes, the faster he can get out of that game. Simple as that. By revenge, I mean that our boy would want to show Vipond that he can’t beat him, no matter what shady stuff he tried to pull.”

“If he’s dealing with the Russians,” said Jesse, “I hope he’s going in with both eyes wide open.”

“Me too. I love that kid,” said Lee. “He’s like a son to me. I don’t want to lose him.”

Pablo’s Mexican Bar and Grille. East Austin.

Farrell wanted to meet me for the big cousin-to-cousin talk and I knew it would be about Annie and our relationship.

Now that my head was healed, and I could see without the dizzy cloudy stuff, I expected Farrell to talk to me about Annie—saying exactly the same shit but putting a different twist on it.

“Fuck that.”

Just like those fuckin’ vipers in D.C. Twisting everything to get what they want and expecting you to believe they’re on your side.

I got to Pablo’s first, ordered a pitcher and leaned back in my chair waiting for things to happen. Best to stay quiet and let things unfold of their own accord before making your move. Classic hunter/prey technique. Let your adversary commit to something, then attack.

Farrell rushed in and sat down at my table. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No problem.” I casually drained my glass without looking at him. “I’ve got nothing until four o’clock.”

“Right. The meeting at Kamps’ townhouse about your new job.”

“Uh huh.”

The server came for our order, and we ordered the burrito special. Always best to go with the special. Don’t interrupt the natural flow of things.

“First of all, I want to apologize for all the shit I’ve said to you about the Annie thing.”

“Not a thing, Farrell. She was my goddamned wife and you and Blacky destroyed us.”

“I’m apologizing for all of that.” Farrell raised his hands in surrender. “It wasn’t fair. I’ve talked to Blacky about it, and he agrees we had no right to interfere.”

Fuck. I wanted to beat him into the ground all over again.

I nodded. “Fuckin’ right, you didn’t. Annie wanted to get married in Vegas, and I said okay. We love each other more than two people have the right to, but there it is. Love don’t care how old we are, but for some reason, you and Blacky do and decided to fuck us up.”

Farrell nodded. “You’re right. We did that and we’re sorry. I’m ready to accept you and Annie and so is Blacky.”

“Ready to accept us? Are you fuckin’ with me? We could give two shits what y’all think. We’re done caring about y’all, just like you never gave two shits about us.” I pushed back my chair and stood up ready to leave, but standing beside me was the server with our food.

“Sit down and eat,” said Farrell. “I have more to say.”

“Not sure I want to listen to it.” I sat, but only because the burritos smelled great. “I could give a flyin’ fuck what you have to say.”

“I want to know what Ellis is saying about me.”

“I’m not getting in the middle of that hot fuckup. You’ll have to fix it yourself. It’s your mess.”

“Any suggestions?”

“You could call her up for starters. Man up and tell her you’re sorry you’re such a fuckin’ asshole.”

Farrell nodded. “Yeah, I should do that. Maybe I should just pop by in person. Think that would be better?”

“Call her,” I huffed. “That’s your starting point.”

“Not a visit? I’m better in person.”

“Unless she won’t let you through the security gate. Then you’re lookin’ like a dick, sitting in your truck in my driveway, staring up at the security camera wondering why you didn’t call her first.”

“You got a security gate?”

“Yeah, to protect us from fucks like you.”

“Kinda harsh, but I deserve it.”

I rammed the rest of my burrito in my mouth and washed it down with the last of my beer. I stood to leave and leaned toward him, my hands on the table. “And as far as me and Annie go, our life is no longer any of your goddamned business. She was my wife, and we were so goddamned happy, and you and Blacky ruined our lives.”

Farrell started spouting off more of his bullshit, so I set him straight. “Stay outta my way, and we’ll be fine. Do anything to stop Annie from being my wife again, and we’re gonna have one final conversation on how wrong that was.”

“Did you just—”

“I said what I said, Farrell. I’m done fuckin’ around.”

I left the bill for him to pay.

Old West Austin.

After the fucked-up meeting with Farrell I wasn’t in the mood for talking to anybody. He pretended he was all good with me and Annie being together when that was such a fuckin lie.

He was using that lie to get me to talk to Ellis. Any idiot could figure that one out. The only thing he was interested in was getting Ellis back into his bed.

You ain’t using me to do it.

I thought about everything Farrell said on my way to the meeting at Kamps’ place. After the stupid, useless talk with my asshole cousin, I arrived way too early.

Roy wasn’t in Texas, so coffee wasn’t ready, and I definitely needed a lot of caffeine or something a helluva lot stronger to calm down the anger bubbling around inside me for Farrell.

What the fuck, Farrell? When did you turn into such a lying douche?

I made a fresh pot, knowing I needed something to calm my anger, and I couldn’t drink booze before this meeting.

Kamps came downstairs just as someone knocked on the door. “Your party, you answer,” he hollered at me.

I was expecting someone from the Creed or maybe Lukas, but instead, Blacky stood on the stoop, smiling. “Mind if I come in?”

“Mi casa, su casa,” I said, waving him in.

“It’s my casa,” shouted Kamps from the kitchen.

Blacky joined us in the kitchen, grabbed a coffee, and we sat at the table. Kamps had the ops file—closed—sitting in front of him.

“Look, Tommy. I know you’re having a meeting with your team and I really think I should be part of it.”

More like the control freak couldn’t handle not having his fingers in everything.

I shrugged. “Sure, boss. Whatever you think’s best.”

“That’s it?” asked Blacky, confused. “No argument telling me why I shouldn’t be involved?”

I looked him in the eyes. “That’s simple. I’m icing you out to keep you and your family alive. Insulate y’all from the blowback. But it’s your family, your choice.”

Blacky and me locked gazes. “You’re compartmentalizing to protect everyone?”

“Somethin’ like that. This ain’t our usual op, boss. This one is gonna cause tsunami-sized fuckin’ ripples for years to come. You gotta accept the blowback if you want in.”

“You’ve had rough ops before, Tommy, and we’ve made it through the repercussions just fine.”

He’s so driven to be involved that he’s not listening.

“If the Russians figure out you were one of the main guys in this op, they’re gonna send a sniper to Texas and one-shot your fuckin’ skull while you play with your kids outside.”

Blacky sipped his coffee, never taking his eyes off me. “But, as your boss, shouldn’t that be my decision to make? Everyone deserves to make their own choices.”

Was he listening to himself?

Blacky was beginning to piss me off. I felt the anger rising and heard it in my own voice. “You’re right, boss,” I said, feeling a head of steam building.

“Lately, people have forced their thoughts on me, whether I want ‘em or not. CIA, NSA, and even people I considered family—all with shitty outcomes. In fact, their ideas have royally fucked up my life.”

Blacky’s eyes widened as he realized where this was going. “Wait, Tommy, I—”

Shoveling on more coal, I couldn’t stop. “So, knowing the details of this op, I chose to protect you and your family. But you are right—you’re an adult and should be treated that way, allowed to make your own decisions just like everybody else.”

Blacky looked defeated. “Tommy, I just—”

I ignored him. “So, what’s the call, boss? Are you in completely, or just doing the things I ask?”

Blacky sat silently, shell-shocked, drinking his coffee and staring at me.

I said nothing.

Kamps’ gaze flitted back and forth between us. The tension was thick, like cigar smoke in the air.

Finally, Blacky pushed his chair back. “I’m returning to the office now. Let me know what you need from me, Tommy.”

He stood and extended his hand to me. I got out of my chair and shook his hand, making good eye contact. “I apologize, Tommy. I shouldn’t have interfered.”

“Damn right, you shouldn’t have.” Still gripping his hand, I pulled him closer, just enough to make him know I meant it. Blacky didn’t flinch—but I saw the shift in his stance, the quick breath. He got the message.

Blacky left, and Kamps stared at me.

“What the fuck has gotten into you, Donovan?”

“What?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe going nose-to-nose with our boss over a mission briefing. Don’t you think that was over the top?”

I refilled my coffee mug. “That’s what you thought that was about?”

I picked up the papers and spread them out on the kitchen table as Kamps thought. After a moment, Kamps quietly said, “Ahh,” and nodded.

We went over the entire package again before the meeting started in fifteen minutes.

The Creed guys arrived on time and in the preliminary meeting, we didn’t discuss the target, only the destination and the logistics involved. Today wasn’t for the who, it was for the how. The part each of them would play in the successful completion of the op.

“Thanks for coming, guys. I know it’s been a while, but there’s no one I’d rather have watching my back than all of you. As usual, Kamps will run logistics, the CIA will provide their intel and minor ground support, and anything outside of the CIA’s ability will go through me first, then Kamps and Blacky. Kamps, start us off.”

Kamps stood and smiled at everyone around the table. “Hey, guys. Good to see y’all again. The first point of business is the CIA. They don’t know you’re going, and we don’t want them to know. Long story, but everything goes through Tommy, no exceptions.”

Without hesitation, they answered, “Got it.”

“There is a high-level meeting happening in Bogota—”

Thorne scoffed loudly. “Fuckin’ hate Bogota.”

“Well, you’re in luck then because I have everyone except Tommy booked on the ten-thirty flight to Barranquilla. Your tickets have already been e-mailed to you. Boarding starts at ten, so be at the airport no later than seven-thirty.”

“That’s so fuckin’ early, Kamps,” whined Aaron, chuckling. “Was there nothing later?”

“Suck it up, big boy. You’ll land in Barranquilla about five hours later. I’ve arranged hotel rooms for you, and I’m working on a safe house, just in case. I should have it in place by the time you land.”

Kamps sat down, and I continued. “We’ll be taking out one of the worst scumbag Russians you’ll ever see, but we gotta do it before he gets to his embassy in Bogota for a high-level meet. You’ll land in the afternoon and check into your hotel. While we wait for the target to arrive in Colombia, we’ll do recon, pick our best spots and work out the timing.”

Cage raised his hand. “Why Barranquilla if the meet is in Bogota?”

The table groaned under my weight when I leaned on it. “Because I have a gut feeling the CIA has it wrong, and we’re setting up on that assumption. Kamps is still working on finding supporting intel and should have confirmation by the time we land.”

“Can you share your gut feeling?” Nick asked.

“No point yet, Nick,” I replied. “Let’s give Kamps time to confirm.”

“What about the ordnance when we get to Colombia?” asked Nick.

“That’s all spelled out in the package,” said Kamps. “Who’s supplying the ordnance y’all need, where to go for the pick-up, and who to ask for. Very specific, and it’s all been paid for. Grab and go.”

“Good,” said Nick. “That could be a big time-waster if it wasn’t prearranged.”

“Once we’re settled,” I continued, “I’ll check in with the CIA field office in Bogota. The Special Agent in Charge down there is Adan Santos. He’ll run interference with the locals for us.”

Aaron leaned back in his chair, making it creak under his considerable girth. “What are we scouting in Barranquilla, Tommy? Local airport or something?”

“We’re focusing on the shipping port. My guess is our guy is coming by boat.”

“By boat? What makes you think that?”

“More than a few things,” I said, “but for now, let’s focus on sightlines and possible entry and exit points.”

The Creed sat silently, looking at Nick, who wasn’t sure himself. “Whatever you say, Tommy, but as soon as you can provide more intel, we’d really appreciate it.”

“Guys, if I went over my suspicions, you’ll all start discussing and thinking about it because some of them are whacky. You’ll lose the focus I need from you to recon the port and find our best locations. Think of this as business as usual. All we need is one good shot.”

“One opportunity may not be enough,” said Thorne. “Things don’t always go perfectly on the day the op goes down.”

“That’s why we need to come up with three potential kill zones,” I replied. “I’ll set up at the one that will give me the highest percentage of success, but we need two more as backup. Cage and Thorne, that will be your job.”

“How long is the trip from the port to the embassy in the capital city?” asked Aaron.

“Twelve hours, give or take,” said Kamps. “Depending on when the target arrives, he might stop to sleep. The Colombians will be rolling out the red carpet, so they’ve probably arranged overnight accommodation. My best guess is that they’d hunker down in Bucaramanga, about halfway.”

“Why aren’t they using a helo to transport him?” asked Nick. “A trip that long is inviting trouble for their esteemed guest.”

“We have to be ready for that,” I said. “Perhaps they’ll put a decoy in the limo and chopper the target directly to Bogota.”

“That makes more sense,” said Cage.

I said, “Once the target reaches the embassy in Bogota, and is secure inside for the high-level meeting, our opportunities are gone.”

“That’s correct,” said Kamps. “I doubt if he’ll leave Colombia the way he arrived. He will be extracted in a completely different manner.”

“That’s a given,” said Nick.

The meeting ran on, and I ordered eight large pizzas and gave the receipt to Kamps to charge the CIA.

After the meeting, and everyone had left, I called Vipond. He picked up on the fifth ring. Always pretending to be busy.

“Hey. This is me keeping you up to date on the plan. You know how you arranged a flight to Bogota for me?”

Ben spoke hesitantly. “Yes. It’s all arranged, Tommy.”

“I need you to change that to Barranquilla.”

Ben’s voice got chippy. “Why the fuck do you need to go to Barranquilla, Marshal Donovan? All intel clearly points to Bogota. Do you have intel I don’t?”

“Nope. Just a gut feel that’s pointing me toward Barranquilla.”

Vipond scoffed. “Well, your gut doesn’t override our intel, Donovan, which clearly points to Bogota, and that’s where you should be headed.”

I exhaled my cigarette smoke, which helped me relax. “Actually, Ben, I’m headed to Barranquilla. Our agreement is that I’m in charge of the op, and you supply the intel and whatever else I need to complete the mission. Refuse if you want, but I’ll just arrange it myself.”

Ben’s voice became decidedly school boyish. “What’re you going to do, Donovan? Ask Armstrong to charter one for you?”

“I could, but seeing as you’re paying—per the contract, by the way—I’ll probably charter a Gulfstream and send you the bill. Or you could just get your head out of your ass and get me that fuckin’ flight to Barranquilla. What’s it gonna be?”

Vipond was silent a moment as he thought. “I’ll arrange a fucking military flight to Barranquilla.”

“Thanks. I need to leave at around ten am, so I have time to scout after I land. Oh, and a room at the Crowne Hotel, too. Seems like a good place to stay.”

“I’ll have Stoner’s people send you the flight info and arrange your room.”

Fuckin’ right, you will.

T ‘n T Roadhouse. Downtown Austin.

The meeting went well, and a lot of questions Nick had for the Creed were answered. The Creed boys were all on board, anxious to be working as a unit again. I liked working with them too. Lukas made a few points, and I was especially happy to have my brother on the op.

We agreed on the time we’d meet at the airport in the morning, and we all left Kamps’ place looking forward to the op.

Already in Austin, I fell back into my usual routine and showed up at T ‘n T roadhouse for my Friday night guest spot. Annie met me there as planned and we had a beer together before it was time for us to sing.

We were relaxed and happy after the emotional hell we’d been through the past couple of days, and I thought to myself that we needed this time to ourselves—away from the family and the pressure they kept putting on us.

After the second set, Farrell showed up alone. He sat in a booth by himself drinking tequila shots and chasing them down with Shiners. His new drunk of choice.

He stared across the room at us but made no effort to speak to us or dance with any of the girls looking for partners. Annie was upset by the way he was acting, but I didn’t let him get to me. Nobody was going to mess up my life from here on in.

Chapter Four

Saturday, November 16th.

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler. Texas.

Durango was fed and Ellis knew how to feed him while I was away. She wouldn’t forget and assured me that I didn’t need any of the hands from Annie’s ranch to drive up to Butler to feed one single horse.

I hugged her and the kids. Kept it short. No drama. Drama led to tears, and tears didn’t help anyone.

“Farrell wants to talk to you,” I said. “He’s gonna call. Maybe even just show up, though I told him that was a bad idea.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Thanks for the warning.”

“You got the security system if he bothers you.”

She laughed. Walked back inside. Thought I was joking. I wasn’t.

I hugged Alfie last. Hated to leave him behind. But this time, it was for the best.

Then, I tossed my gear in the truck and drove away.

Cherrywood. Austin.

Lukas had a coffee mug in his hand, slouched down in one of Aunt Gail’s porch chairs, his gear bag near the support post, when I pulled in to pick him up. He was ready for this.

He hopped up and we both gave our aunt hugs. She gave us the usual warnings to be careful and not get shot.

“We won’t get hurt, Aunt Gail, but I can’t say the same for the other guys.” I laughed, but she didn’t. Failing to see the humor in it, she wasn’t a fan of what me and my brother did for a living. She’d lost too many family members already.

Probably have an infarction if she knew I was an assassin.

We loaded up Lukas’ gear and he wasn’t saying much. He seemed to be worried about something too. I was fine so it must be something else.

He might tell me on the drive to the airport, but I wasn’t putting money on it.

Donovan Ranch. Elgin.

Farrell finished the chores at his own barn, drank a mug of coffee and thought about what he planned to do while Tommy was gone.

“I don’t want Ellis and the kids to be alone on Tommy’s farm while he’s away. It’s not safe with the number of enemies Tommy has gunning for him. I’ll drop over there to do a wellness check and then she’ll give me a chance to talk to her. Once I get that all fixed up, I’ll make peace with Annie.”

With Tommy out of the way, both things will be a lot easier.

Austin-Bergstrom Airport.

We split up at the airport. The CIA had arranged a military flight for me, and I didn’t want Ben Vipond or the agency to know about the team I was bringing.

Lukas and the Creed were booked on a commercial flight, and they would meet me at the hotel after I landed.

As I waited to board, my cell rang. It was Kamps, so I found a quiet spot.

“Hey. What’s up? Boarding in ten minutes.”

“You were right, Tommy.”

Loved to hear that.

“I called my contact at the NSA, and they confirmed a flight out of Dyagilevo Air Base outside of Moscow. It flew to the abandoned Soviet military base in Cuba. The NSA made a note of it, but without context, it raised no red flags.”

I gave a silent fist pump.

I was right.

“Awesome news, Kamps. Check for helos taking off from that Cuban base.”

“Already done and confirmed. Working on where it went, which I should have by the time you land.”

“Great work, Kamps. I’ll call you.”

I hopped on the C-130 with the military guys, buckled up and closed my eyes.

Landing after a five-hour nap would be fantastic.

Benton Crescent. Georgetown. D.C.

Yvonne was sick every morning and Roy felt so sorry for her. The nausea seemed to be getting worse, and Roy had googled every remedy he could find for morning sickness. They had tried most of them, but nothing helped Yvonne.

“I’m late for work almost every morning and Lee isn’t wearing a happy face anymore, Roy.”

“Tell him the truth and he’ll be sympathetic. You’ll have to tell him soon anyway when you start wearing different clothes.”

“You’re right, Roy. I should tell him today. Has Chet phoned and asked about me lately?”

“He’s waiting for you to talk about the baby. He doesn’t know where he stands.”

“I’ve been trying to sort that out since day one, Roy, and I’m no further ahead, but the way I see it, there are three options. Number one: Live with Chet in Texas. We tried it, but it didn’t work out. Number Two: He moves here. Again, we tried it, and it failed miserably. Number three: Give the baby up for adoption.”

“No,” cried Roy. “Don’t even say that. I’ll take the baby back to Texas and Chet and I will raise him on our own.”

Yvonne nodded, then pulled him into a hug. “That’s the best option so far, Roy. I’m not cut out to be a mother. I still have so much to do for my country, and I promised Lee I’d see him through the next three years. I can’t do that and raise a baby at the same time. It's just not possible.”

Yvonne started to cry. “Call Chet and talk to him for me, sweetheart.”

“I’ll call today and ease into it, but you have to tell Lee why you’re late every morning. This has been a secret long enough. Having a baby is a part of life. It’s not a crime and shouldn’t be a secret.”

“I’ll do it today, Roy. I feel strong enough to tell him today. Thank you.”

Roy hugged her and they both shed a few more tears.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Following his Saturday routine, Lee worked in his private office on the second floor of the White House. Usually, he got more done on a Saturday morning all alone than he accomplished all week.

No noise and no constant interruptions. It was heavenly. Gloating over how peaceful it was, he wasn’t amused when Daniel knocked and interrupted him. “Major Harrison is here to speak to you, sir.”

“On a Saturday morning? That’s odd. Show her in, Daniel, and bring us some coffee, would you?”

“Certainly, sir.”

Yvonne walked in with tears in her eyes and Lee jumped up and rounded the desk to take her in his arms. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“I have to tell you something, Lee. I can’t put it off any longer.”

“I noticed you haven’t been feeling well. You’re pale and I’ve been worried about your health.” He sat her down in the chair next to his desk and got her a bottle of water from the mini-fridge.

“Worse than being sick, Lee. I’m pregnant. A payback from my second try to work things out with Chet. Not his fault. I blame myself.”

Lee pointed to the tissue box on his desk and Yvonne helped herself to a handful. “I’m such a mess and I have no clue what to do about the baby.”

Lee breathed deeply. He was horrible at comforting women, but he liked to think of Yvonne as his friend and was determined to help.  “No wonder you’re so upset. That explains why you’ve looked sick for a while.”

“I look sick?” Yvonne asked, her voice rising.

Lee’s anxiety rose quickly. “Not at all. What I mean is—no wonder you’re probably feeling off.”

“Well, that’s true,” Yvonne said, relaxing slightly. “Morning sickness is a bitch, Lee. I’ve been late so many days lately and I want to apologize for not telling you sooner. I didn’t know what to say and I’ve been so annoyed and confused by the entire situation, I’m in a tailspin.”

“Have you talked this through with Mister Kamps?”

Yvonne began to cry harder. “No. And he came to D.C. for that express purpose, and I couldn’t bring myself to discuss it.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I didn’t realize he’d been here for a visit.”

“I handled it like a moron, Lee. Chet gave up and went back to Texas and I owe him the biggest apology ever owed to a person.”

“I’m sure this is an emotionally charged time for you.”

Yvonne laughed and sounded a bit crazy. “Emotionally charged?”

“Chet Kamps is a very intelligent man who cares for you deeply, even though you’ve had your differences. I’m sure he’s open to discussing options.”

“Maybe. I can only think of three scenarios, and two of them involve me giving the baby away.”

“Let’s not get hasty,” Lee said. “We’ll talk it through. Give me your best scenario.”

Yvonne dried her face again before she began. “I take a few weeks off to cover the birth of the child, then I come back to work. I don’t see myself as a mother. I’m sure I would be inadequate in a hundred and one ways. Motherhood is not what I’m cut out for.”

“What about a nanny?” asked Lee. “That way you could continue to work.”

“Tommy does well with Ellis and she’s wonderful with the kids,” said Yvonne. “I’ve thought about that option, but then again, I’m not sure I want a child in my life at all.”

“I see,” said Lee. “You may feel differently after the birth of the child.”

“That’s what Roy said. He’s the most wonderful friend a girl could have, Lee. He’s all heart and common sense. I love that man so much.”

“I am fond of Roy myself,” said Lee. “What’s his opinion. Does he have one?”

“I mentioned adoption this morning and he was devastated and adamantly opposed to the idea. He said he would take the baby home to Texas and he and Chet would raise Chet’s son.”

Lee raised an eyebrow. “It’s a boy?”

“Yes. I’ve had the ultrasound and it’s a boy.”

“What do you think of that idea? Chet raising his son?” asked Lee. “It doesn’t sound like the worst possibility, especially if Roy is willing to take it on. Chet can afford a nanny or a housekeeper.”

“Yes, he can but I haven’t given him the chance to offer any solutions. I have to make myself talk to him.”

“Why not do it today, or over the weekend and have it all taken care of before you have to come to work on Monday?”

“The last thing I want is the White House rumor mill getting hold of this and wreaking havoc on my life. It’s upside down already.”

Daniel entered with a coffee tray and filled china cups for both of them. “I brought several of Emily’s turnovers.”

“Thank you, Daniel.”

Yvonne relaxed enough to eat a raspberry turnover wrapped in Emily’s to-die-for flaky pastry and she felt better with something in her stomach.

“You’ve lost weight,” said Lee.

“The nausea should soon subside, according to the obstetrician I’m seeing. Can’t be soon enough.” She laughed but it was forced. Nothing amused Yvonne in her present state.

“I’m so glad you came to me with this,” said Lee.

Ernesto Cortissoz International Airport. Colombia.

After a five-hour flight, the big military aircraft set down in Barranquilla. I’d slept a little and woke up a bit groggy. I couldn’t remember if Vipond was sending someone to meet me.

Had my memory gotten worse after the crack in my head? Hard to tell, but it happened to Annie. She forgot a lot of stuff and she blamed it on her brain injury.

Love the CIA—because huge, shiny, black SUVs scream, ‘Don’t look at me.’ Idiots.

The CIA guy spotted me and strode over. “Marshal Donovan?”

“That’s me.”

He took my suitcases and loaded them in the hatch. “I’m Special Agent Adan Santos from the Bogota field office.”

“That’s a helluva long drive, Special Agent Santos, just to pick me up.”

“It is, but I didn’t drive. When I was told of your change of venue, I flew up right away and commandeered a vehicle from our local office.”

“Well, don’t I feel special. Have y’all been read in?”

Santos shook his head as he checked his blind spot and merged into traffic. “Nothing like that, sir. I know this is the most important mission we’ve ever undertaken in Colombia, as well as your flight arrival time. Although, if you don’t mind me saying so, sir, Director Vipond spoke very highly of you. You must be some kind of operator to get that kind of praise out of the boss.”

I shrugged, rolled down the window and lit a smoke. “You can only do what you can do, Santos. Sometimes it works, and other times you get shot in the head.”

Santos looked sideways at me, confused.

We arrived at the hotel ahead of Lukas and the Creed because commercial flights often took longer. Worked out better this way anyway, because there was no chance Santos would see my team. Kamps had two rooms booked for Lukas and the Creed two floors above mine. That way, we could use the stairwells to hide our movements when we needed to meet.

Crowne Hotel. Barranquilla. Colombia.

Agent Santos dropped me off at the front door of the hotel and gave me the key to my room. I’d already been checked in and was ready to rock.

I settled in, unpacked my toiletries and made a coffee in my room. I swept for tags and found two more.

At least the spooks were predictable.

Opened the door and dropped the tags in the trash of a room service cart, where they belonged.

That done, I lay on my bed and made calls while waiting for the rest of the crew to arrive.

“I’m here, babe.”

“Did the boys arrive yet?”

“No. Lukas will text when they get to the hotel, and we’ll have a meeting in one of their rooms. Vipond may have his flunkies watching me.”

“Did you sweep your room, sugar pop?”

“Of course. You taught me well. Found two bugs, but whoever is on the other end is listening to the funky beats of the garbage truck.”

“Well done. Keep an eye out for more and for his watchers. I don’t trust Vipond, and neither should you.”

“I hear that. Benny’s a liar who takes advantage of his field operators. A guy like that deserves a bullet, not loyalty.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Tommy.”

“I know, but after Afghanistan, I’m more careful. Something changed when I got my head whacked open, and people left me for dead.”

“Not everybody, sugar pop.”

“True, babe. Not everybody. I love you.”

“Don’t forget all the things we talked about, honey boy. I want you to come back safe to me.”

“Same.”

My phone rang just as I ended the call to Annie. “Hey, Kamps.”

“Hey, boss. You good to talk?”

“All good. What have you got?”

“The NSA found the helo. It flew from that Soviet base in Cuba out to a commercial cargo ship called the ‘Druzhina.’ It docks in two days in Barranquilla.”

“That’s good intel, Kamps. And we know for sure our man is on that ship?”

“Nothing definitive, but when I broke into the port tracking program, the Druzhina left port two days ago, bound for Moscow, then immediately filed papers to dock again in two days. There’s nowhere to pick up cargo, so it’s gotta be our guy.”

“Good enough for me. Good job, Kamps.”

“Thanks, but it was your hunch. I just punched the keyboard.”

My phone signaled a text, and I didn’t realize I’d dozed off on my comfy bed.

Lukas.

“We’re here, bro. Do you want to come to my room?”

“Sure. What’s your number?”

“Five twenty-three.”

“I’ll be right up.”

I cracked my door and looked left and right. Hallway clear. I also noticed no security cameras. Good sign.

Stairwells unlocked. Went up two flights and then checked their hallway. Clear as well.

The door to five twenty-three was slightly ajar, and when I walked in, Lukas and the creed were lounging, waiting quietly.

Thorne came out of the bathroom, waving his bug detector around, then walked to the table and dropped his detector. “All clear.”

“Good call, boys. Check for bugs every day. We don’t want the CIA—or anyone else, for that matter—knowing you’re here. I found two in my room already, and I’m sure they’ll be back by tomorrow. Stairs looked clean of cameras, as well, so that’s another safe area.”

Lukas punched my arm as everyone settled in for the briefing.

“Thanks for coming boys. Our target is arriving on the Russian ship ‘Druzhina’ scheduled to dock in two days. That means we have tomorrow to recon the pier, pick our sightlines and familiarize ourselves with the shift patterns of the guards. He’ll only be in the open from the ship to the limo, so our window of opportunity is very short.”

The Creed looked at Nick, who spoke for them all. “And we’re sure the CIA is dead wrong, and our man is on this ship?”

“Hundred percent? No, but Kamps keeps chasing down my hunches, and we’re batting a thousand so far. I feel good about our plan.”

“Are we doing any recon tonight, boss?” Thorne asked.

“Wasn’t on my list,” I replied. “With this many seasoned guys, we should have no problem reconning the area in a day. What’s on your mind?”

“We’re heading down the street to a bar we saw on the way in,” said Thorne. “You want to risk joining us or does the CIA have eyes on you?”

“The guy who picked me up told me he was staying in this hotel, so I don’t want to risk it. You guys have fun tonight but remember, mission first. Don’t come in loud and drunk. God only knows who else is watching this hotel.”

There was some good-natured shoving and teasing, but they understood.

“The real work starts in the morning.”

“What should we do for breakfast?” asked Nick.

“You guys use the dining room, and I’ll order from room service. I’ll take a cab to the pier unless Santos calls and volunteers to drive me. If he does, I’ll text Lukas.”

“Copy that.”

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

Director Ben Vipond checked the time and when he figured Tommy would be in Barranquilla, he called Special Agent Santos.

“Director Vipond, how may I help you?”

Ben Vipond tapped his pencil on his desk as he leaned back in his leather chair. “I’m following up on our asset, making sure he arrived on schedule.”

“He did, sir. I picked him up and brought him to the hotel as assigned. Room three-eighteen.”

Vipond paused. “Did you put tags in the room?”

“I did, sir, but he found them within minutes.”

“No need to waste any more listening devices. Donovan will search and find them every day. When you picked him up, was he alone, or did he have a team with him?”

“He stepped off the military plane alone, sir. Nobody with him. It that a concern, sir?”

“Of course, it is.” Vipond hated explaining himself to underlings. He sighed audibly. “Because, Special Agent Santos, we want as few people as possible to know about Marshal Donovan’s visit to Colombia.”

“Understood, sir. I’ll keep you updated. Want me to give him a tail?”

Ben sat quiet. Thinking. “He’s too savvy. He’d see the tail a mile away and shake it. Offer to drive him.”

Santos stammered. “Drive him, sir? Like a chauffeur? I’ll do it, of course, but curious why you think he would accept.”

“If he takes you up on it, he’s probably alone. Letting you drive allows him to focus on the mission. If he refuses, you need to keep an eye on him. He might have plans that aren’t in the outline I gave him.”

“Do you expect him to do something unprofessional, sir?”

“Doubtful because I accounted for his ‘cowboy’ mentality when I created the workup for this op. In general, I trust Marshal Donovan’s judgment. That said, he’s been known to go ‘off-script,’ and I don’t like surprises. This operation is critical, Santos. We cannot have any screwups. If you need to bring him back to task, let me know, and I’ll help.”

“I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly, sir. You can count on me.”

I can count on you to fuck this up, Vipond thought, but you’re all I have down there.

“I know I can, Santos. You’re my eyes and ears while Donovan is in Colombia.”

Old West Austin. Texas.

Hating the empty feel of his townhouse, Kamps was tempted to get a fucking dog or that cat that Roy wanted so badly.

Visions of going to the animal rescue center the following day were blown from his mind when his cell rang, and it was Yvonne.

“Hi, Chet, it’s Yvonne.”

Kamps almost shit himself there and then. Stared at the phone. She refused to talk to him when he flew to her house, and now she’s calling him, and it hit him like a gut punch.

“Chet, I have to start by saying I owe you a huge apology. We should’ve talked when you made the trip to D.C. Even though I wasn’t ready, I didn’t treat you fairly, and I am very sorry for that.”

Kamps clenched his jaw. Fought the urge to say something nuclear. Instead, what came out was clipped, sharp, and mean. “But you’re ready now?”

Instant regret. Too late.

“I deserve that. You have every right to be furious with me, but to answer your question—yes, I am ready now.”

“Then talk,” Chet grumbled, low and flat.

“Roy and I have talked this over a dozen times, and we came up with several scenarios.”

Kamps exhaled loudly but said nothing.

“Chet? Are you still there?”

“Of course, I’m still here, Yvonne.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

He rubbed his temple, forcing the words through his teeth. “Honestly? I’m tired of your childish behavior. The mental torture of this waiting game you devised is fucking evil. Just tell me the rules of the game, Yvonne, and I’ll do my best to play along. Is this multiple choice, and I pick the best answer? Do I even get any input?”

Silence. A small sniffle.

“I said I was sorry.”

Chet scoffed aggressively. “Not good enough. Not by a long shot. You treated me like shit as if I don’t count in decisions concerning our child’s future.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. I heard you,” Kamps said.

I’d heard it before, too. Every time she made a decision without me in our relationship. Every time Vonnie shut me out. Funny how ‘sorry’ never changed a damn thing.

Out loud, he said, “Just give me the options you and Roy worked out.”

Yvonne began talking and Kamps made notes. They were finally talking about the future of his child, and he didn’t want anything slipping through the cracks. He listened to what Yvonne was offering, and he figured he could’ve come up with the same options in five fucking minutes.

“How long do I have to decide, Yvonne?”

“As long as you need, Chet. Lord knows I’ve made you wait long enough to have this conversation.”

Damned right you have, and I’ll never forgive you for being so thoughtless and hard-hearted.

“Okay, I’ll think it over and give you a call back as soon as I have something concrete in place.”

“Thank you for being reasonable, Chet.”

He ended the call and called Yvonne a few unflattering names. “I wish Roy was at home with me. He’s been living in the situation with Yvonne, and he could shed a lot of light on her emotional state. To me, she sounds goddamned nuts.”

Kamps grabbed a beer from the fridge, then sat at the kitchen table and called Annie.

“Hey, sugar lump. You okay?”

“I finally heard from the baby mama.” He laughed but nothing was funny to him at the present.

“What’s the scoop? Have you two made important decisions?”

“The options have been presented to me, and I have to decide.”

“Give me the options, sweetie. I want to hear what she’s got on the table.”

“First of all, it’s clear that she doesn’t want the baby and does not intend to be a mother.”

“Aw, that’s sad. But you intend to be a father?”

“I do, Beauty. This is my only kick at the cow.”

“Good for you, sugar. I totally agree you should go for it. Let’s hear the offerings.”

“One: If I choose not to be a father, she’ll put the baby up for adoption.”

“Nope,” said Annie.

“Two: Roy will bring the boy to Texas as soon as he’s born, and Yvonne will pay for a nanny to help Roy and I out. I don’t have to be part of the birth, but Roy returns to her permanently.”

“In the end, she gets Roy? I don’t think that’s fair. Is there another?”

“Yes.”

“I hope it’s more in your favor.”

“Three: I go to D.C. for the birth, claim my son and bring him home. Hire a nanny and I’m completely on my own. Roy stays with Yvonne.”

“She wants Roy no matter what you decide?”

“Yes.”

“I like number four better,” said Annie.

“There is no four.”

“There’s always one more option. You will attend the once-in-a-lifetime experience—the birth of your son. Once he’s deemed healthy, you’ll claim your son and bring him back to Texas. You’ll hire your own nanny, and if you can’t afford one, I’ll gladly help out—call it a baby gift. Finally, you’ll hire the best-damned attorney and file for sole custody to cut that selfish bitch out of your life. There’s no telling what she might pull a few years down the road.”

“Uh huh. I like that one the best, but I don’t think she’s going to give Roy up that easily.”

“If she balks on the Roy issue, tell her you’ll go with number three—Roy stays with her. You get a house with a big yard and a huge area for a garden. As soon as Roy hears you talking about what the baby is doing, and you’re sending him pictures from Texas of the baby and the huge garden area out back, he’ll come home on his own.”

“Do you think that would happen?”

“I absolutely do. Look how crazy he is over Tommy’s kids.”

“The garden might get him before the baby does,” said Chet. “Tomorrow I start looking for a new place and I’ll tell him I’m getting a fuckin’ cat too.”

Annie laughed. “Does Roy want a cat?”

“Yep. He asked for a cat. I’ll call and tell Yvonne what I’ve decided. Thanks, Beauty. I don’t know one fuckin’ thing about raising a baby, but I’ve got a few months to get a bigger place and hire a nanny.”

“Four bedrooms and a big yard. I’ll help you look. I’m looking forward to our new adventure together.”

Kamps finished his beer and stared at his computer screen.

Chapter Five

Sunday, November 17th.

Farrington Residence. Georgetown. D.C.

Preparing for his first trip as Secretary of State, Jesse felt the weight of responsibility that had been placed squarely on his shoulders.

The Iran/Israel situation was one with no easy solution, but Jesse was tasked with bringing the warring sides to the bargaining table—if that was possible.

President of Iran, Darius Ahmadi, had agreed (after weeks of coaching and prodding) to a preliminary discussion where he would present what it would take for him to enter into any type of lasting peace.

Lee was thrilled that Jesse had been able to get the stubborn Iranian this far. If the meeting hadn’t been approved by the Ayatollah, Jesse wouldn’t be going at all.

Deputy Secretary, Charlie Radeska, was going on the trip with Jesse and Jesse was happy to have him for company, if nothing else. Together they were entering uncharted territory.

The Iranians were putting on a lavish show of friendship and welcome. Lee had been advised there would be a huge reception at the historic Golestan Palace when Airforce Two landed.

Jesse secretly wished Olivia Forbes, his office manager, and someone he’d become fond of, was making the trip with him, but she had to stay behind and run the office.

Quanah Khani Farm. Butler. Texas.

Even though Tommy had forewarned Ellis that Farrell might not call before he popped by, she wasn’t prepared when the gate notification sounded. The buzz made her jump, and she almost didn’t answer it.

She looked at the video screen and saw Farrell’s black Ram. Almost identical to Tommy’s truck. Both were loaded with police equipment, but Farrell had a gun rack mounted on his.

“Ellis, it’s me, Farrell,” he yelled a little too loudly at the speaker.

Ellis couldn’t keep the bite out of her tone. “I can see that it’s you, Farrell Donovan.”

He chuckled nervously. “You gonna let me in, or we gonna do this over the security system?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” she said, that bite still in her voice. “Tell me why I should.”

“Because I love you, and I’m pretty sure you love me too, even though I’m a complete idiot.”

Ellis felt the tears welling, but she pushed them down. If he wanted back in her life, he’d have to work for it. “Fine. You can come in, but if I ask you to leave, you get out, no questions asked.”

“Fair enough.”

The metal security gates swung open, and Farrell parked in his usual spot.

After wiping clammy hands on a dish towel, Ellis opened the door trying not to show any emotion. In spite of her best effort, tears burned behind her eyes at the sight of him.

No denying how much she loved Farrell Donovan.

“Come in, Farrell. I have fresh coffee.”

“Thanks. We need to talk, Ellis.”

“I’m happy to listen to what you have to say.”

Linc and Simka ran to him squealing with happiness and he picked both of them up at once. Linc probably close to forty pounds and Simka a lot less.

He sat down at the kitchen table with both kids on his knee while Ellis got the coffee.

“I don’t like you being here alone at night, Ellis.”

“We have a competent security system.”

“It’s the response time I worry about.”

“I’ve thought about that.”

“While Tommy is away, it would be better if I slept here—on the sofa—every night. I’ll mind my own business and won’t cause a fuss, but it would make me feel better. Would you consider letting me do that, Ellis? I miss you so much and my house is so empty without you and the kids.”

The loneliness in Farrell’s voice broke her heart and she caved when she had promised herself she wouldn’t.

“A little more protection couldn’t hurt, I suppose.”

Farrell didn’t realize he was holding his breath, and when she said yes, he was almost dizzy. “Thanks, Ellis. It means so much that you’re trusting me.”

“Rebuilding trust is one thing, Farrell, but you need to deal with whatever triggered you. I have never clearly understood why you are so tormented by Tommy and your mother.”

Ellis sat down at the table and put a mug of coffee in front of Farrell. He put the kids down and they ran off to play.

“Let me explain it to you from my point of view. It’s the only way I can make you understand that I’m not completely out of my tree.”

“Okay, give me the unabridged version.”

Ellis sat quietly and listened as Farrell rambled for an hour. He poured out the whole story beginning with Annie coming out of the last coma and the horror story when she was missing in Vegas. All of it.

She refilled their coffee mugs twice but never said a thing. When Farrell finally finished, they sat quietly, staring at each other for several minutes.

“I understand, Farrell. Thank you for being honest with me. Living with her brain injury must be difficult for Mrs. Powell and the situation must have been extremely hard for Tommy as well, having his family turn against him and turn his life upside down.”

“Tommy and Annie love each other, and they were happy. We forced them apart, made them get a divorce because of the age difference, and we broke both their hearts.”

“When two people love each other, age is irrelevant.”

“I see that now. It was a mess all around and I have to make peace with it, or I’ll lose my whole family.”

“If you haven’t already.”

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

The delicious smells of Emily’s culinary genius assaulted their senses as Daniel escorted Yvonne and Roy into the dining room.

Breakfast with the president was always an event, and Lee enjoyed having company in the residence. He got lonely despite the hundreds of employees milling about. He hugged his friends before they sat down.

Lee laid his napkin on his lap and grinned at his guests. “You seem happier, Yvonne. Did you follow through with your plan and talk to Chet about the baby?”

Yvonne dabbed the corner of her mouth before replying. “I did, and I feel so much better with that weight lifted.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but can you share what was decided?” asked Lee.

“Of course,” said Yvonne. “Chet was unusually calm and reasonable, and because he wasn’t being stubborn, I gave him most of what he wanted.”

Lee didn’t like the way she said I gave him, but he wasn’t getting involved. “And that was?”

“Chet will attend the birth of the baby, and then he, Roy, and the baby will return to Texas. Roy will stay until the nanny has a routine, then he’ll return to me, and Chet will continue on his own.”

Lee raised an eyebrow. Roy isn’t chattel, Yvonne. He looked at Roy, who was intently focused on the food on his plate.

“He wanted it all, Lee.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, he was taking the baby and Roy back to Texas. I couldn’t possibly let him have both.”

Yvonne patted Roy’s thigh and grinned, then began eating again.

“But you’re willing to let Roy go to Texas until the baby is settled in?”

“Yes. Chet will need Roy for that, and I want to be fair.”

Lee stole glances at Roy as he ate. He knew Roy cared for Yvonne, but her possessive stance must be taking a toll on that friendship. No one wants to be talked about in that manner.

Lee’s former lofty opinion of Major Yvonne Harrison dropped several points.

Old West Austin. Texas.

Kamps rehashed the conversation with Yvonne and went over the arrangement in his head. He was satisfied as long as Yvonne stuck to the agreement and didn’t try for any last-minute amendments.

That would be her style.

I hope Annie is right about Roy not wanting to be separated from the baby. I’m not happy with the way Yvonne’s speaking about Roy. He’s my friend, too, and can make his own decisions.

Putting fatherhood on the back burner, Kamps focused on the op. After digging deeper into the Barranquilla Port Authority’s programs, he found the ship’s docking time and which pier.

He called Tommy and filled him in.

Crowne Hotel. Barranquilla. Colombia.

I ordered room service because I had a CIA spook floating around the hotel, keeping an eye on me. I would have liked to eat with my brother and the Creed, but that wasn’t possible.

Trying to beat a spook at sneakiness wasn’t easy.

The food was just okay, but the Colombian coffee made up for it. Great coffee, and I ordered an entire pot sent up from room service.

A knock on the door startled me. Too fast for my coffee.

Turned out I wasn’t wrong about the lurking.

Special Agent Santos, in all his polyester glory. “Morning, Marshal. Just checking that everything is going well for you. Mind if I join you for a word?”

I gave him the stink eye. “Not at all. I’m glad you’re here first thing in the morning.”

“Really?” Santos asked, smiling.

“No,” I said abruptly, then walked back into my room. “Close the door and grab a coffee.”

Santos followed me in. “I’d love a cup. Great coffee here. Hope I’m not disturbing you too much.”

I looked Santos in the eye, and he froze. “Vipond never told you about my ‘no bullshit from the CIA’ rule, did he?”

Santos lost his fake smile. “He did not.”

“Well, hop on board because I don’t have the fuckin’ stomach for it, especially this early. I got a helluva lot to do today, so I’ll be out of here in the next twenty minutes.”

Santos nodded and sipped his coffee. I could tell he was trying to figure out how to proceed.

“Drink your coffee, and we’ll get going. Vipond told you to drive me so you could keep an eye on me. I’m gonna brush my teeth and wash up. We move out in five minutes.”

My worst fuckin’ nightmare. While Santos sat at the table drinking my Colombian coffee, I ducked into the ensuite and texted Lukas.

“You guys get going to the port. I’ve got a tail I have to lose.”

“Copy. Catch up later.”

I finished the last of my coffee and didn’t offer Santos a refill. “I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll drive you, Marshal. Director Vipond said to give you whatever you need.”

“Or did he say to watch how I did my job and report back to him? Sounds more like him to me.”

“You’re uncomfortable with me driving you?”

“Sure as hell am but we both have jobs to do. Mine just happens to be a thousand times harder than yours.”

“I understand. I’ll stay out of your way.”

“You’re already smack-dab in the middle, Santos. Buckle up.”

Port of Barranquilla. Colombia.

The Creed had split up and were doing recon of the dock area when I got there with Santos. Agent Santos had never met them, so they looked like guys walking around on the pier to him.

Aaron walked around, casually looking up to pick the best sniper’s nests, with Thorne somewhere doing the same. I didn’t see Cage, but that was a good thing.

Santos stayed near the car while I did my walking tour.

We never made eye contact. I went my way, and they went theirs. I could tell Nick was looking for the number of the pier where the Russian vessel Druzhina would be docking. He walked by me, held down two fingers, then three.

Pier twenty-three. That confirmed Kamps’ intel.

I walked to that pier and looked for the closest spot a limo could pull up to pick up an important passenger. So many sightlines. Easy pickings.

Sloppy plan by the Russians. Too sloppy, in fact. They were many things, but the Russians weren’t this careless.

That’s when their plan firmed up in my head.

The limo was a decoy. I was sure of it now. I’d bet they’d use a helo to exfil the Russian. They’d land on the helipad of the ship and take off from there.

Control your location. Control your liabilities.

Aaron and Thorne were looking for sightlines that would give us a clear shot at the helipad. They’d have to guess at height, but they were experienced at ‘storming the castle’ and knew better than most.

Two military trucks pulled up, offloading a dozen Colombian soldiers each.

The more I studied the area around the port, the more I realized my chances of taking the target out on the pier were slim to none. Too many workers on the docks and Colombian and Russian security details were already patrolling. It’s only gonna get worse.

Time for Plan B.

The suggested plan given to me by the CIA indicated the best place for the kill would be between the ship and the limo.

That was only if the real target was getting in the limo, which I was pretty sure he wasn’t. Didn’t make sense. Why would they expose him like that?

Walking back towards my babysitter, Vipond called me. I was already in a pissy mood and didn’t want to talk to the arrogant prick.

“Yo, boss.”

“How’s it going down there?”

“Stellar. Me and Santos are going out for tamales and beers after this. Wish you were here and all that.”

“No need for the attitude, Donovan.”

“Always a need, Vipond.”

“You want to enlighten me why you think our guy is coming through the port?”

“Nope.”

“Fine. You have operational control, and I’ll respect that. Have you picked your sniper’s nest?”

“Yep.”

Vipond let out a loud sigh. “You have to give me something, Donovan. Is your plan going to work?”

“Like a charm.”

“You sound reasonably sure.”

“Why wouldn’t it?” I asked. “Do you know something I don’t?”

Now it was Benny Boy’s turn to have some attitude. “That seems more unlikely as this op progresses, Marshal. Have a good day, and best of luck.”

“Copy that.”

Crowne Hotel. Barranquilla. Colombia.

Lukas was with the Creed boys in the dining room having a grand old time while I was stuck in my room because of fuckin’ Santos. Vipond figured he’d have more control if he stuck a spook on me, but it could blow the entire mission. The asshole was sticking to me like Elmer’s, and I had to find a way to ditch him.

The blowback on me would be catastrophic if this failed.

I called Annie and whined to her.

“No good having him watching you, honey. He’s sure to mess you up. We have to get rid of him.”

“How, babe?”

Annie suggested having one of Kamps people pull him off me. “Good idea, babe. I’ll call and see what he can do. Thanks. I miss you.”

“Come home safe to me, Tommy. I can’t live without you.”

I called Kamps and he said he’d take care of it as soon as possible. “The op is too important to the entire fuckin’ world to have one of Vipond’s people screwing you over.”

“Do you think Vipond intended to screw me over?”

“Doubt it. The mission is too important for him to include any personal vendettas. Give me an hour and I’ll be in touch.”

I let out a breath of relief. Had no idea how Kamps would get Santos off of me, but I didn’t fuckin’ care either.

An hour later, he called me back and it was done. “You’re clear, Tommy.”

“Is Santos dead?”

He laughed. “Nothing like that. One of my guys in that city carjacked Santos. They’ve got him stashed in the back of an abandoned roller rink until the op is complete.”

“Fantastic. I can finally get out of this room and get on with it. I owe you, bro.”

“Nope. You don’t. I get paid for doing my job—same as you.”

“Actually, there’s one more thing we need.”

“I’m all ears.”

I hesitated because it was such a tall ask. “Aaron needs a fake pilot’s license for helicopters, and we need it yesterday. I know I’m asking a lot—”

Kamps laughed on the other end. “Do you think this is the first time he needed a fake pilot’s license? Text me where to send it, and I’ll make it happen.”

“That easy?”

“Easier if you text me where to send it.”

“Right. Coming up.”

“Tell him to use Alonso. He’ll understand.”

Zarona Bar and Grille. Barranquilla.

As soon as I was in the clear, I texted Lukas to see where my team was, and they were only a few blocks away from the hotel.

I caught up with them at the bar and we got ourselves a table near the back where we could talk about the op with nobody overhearing us.

I paid for the next round and laid it on them. “Plan A won’t work, but I figured out a solid plan B.”

Nick rubbed his hands together. “Let’s hear it.”

He had more experience than all of us put together.

“The more I thought about it, the more I figured they won’t be transporting their VIP via road. They’re gonna chopper him to Bogota. Faster and safer.”

“Agreed,” said everyone.

“Me, Lukas and Aaron will rent a chopper and fly to Bogota. Aaron will pilot, and that’ll give us two snipers and a solid backup. Aaron, Kamps said to use Alonso.”

The big man nodded and made a note.

Nick nodded as he thought. “Makes sense, but what if they use the limo?”

“You, Thorne and Cage will watch the ship and get me confirmation that the Russian Defense Minister, Nickolai Petrovic, gets into the helicopter. I’ll get Kamps to monitor flight plans to confirm that its destination is Bogota.”

Thorne was the note-taker, and he put all of it into his leather notebook.

“And?” asked Nick.

“Then y’all will follow the limo south. Pick the best spot on the long fuckin’ drive to Bogota. That’s where Cage and Thorne will blow up the limo and the potential decoy.”

Nick’s dark eyes widened. “Why kill the decoy?”

“The Russians might be pulling a fast one and have changed Petrovic’s appearance. They know the CIA is after him, and it would be a clever play to make such a big deal of having a decoy only to have the real Petrovic play that part. So, we’ll kill ‘em both.”

“I like it,” said Nick.

I take a swig of beer and set my mug down. We’ve gotta get this right if we wanna make a difference in the fuckin’ Ukraine war. Thousands of people are dying.”

Nick rubbed his face with his palms. “Thanks for reading us in. That’s one hell of a target.”

“We’re at the stage where you need to know. The stakes are too high and will affect the entire world.”

Cage and Thorne both nodded.

The Creed were some of the most patriotic ex-military guys I ever met.

Crowne Hotel. Barranquilla. Colombia.

I crawled into bed feeling a lot better about the following day. We’d have breakfast together at the hotel before going to the pier, and that time together would give us the chance to iron out any last-minute kinks in the plan.

Nick hated leaving anything to chance and so did I.

Annie taught me that.

Chapter Six

Monday, November 18th.

Crowne Hotel. Barranquilla. Colombia.

“This is Donovan.”

“Marshal Donovan, this is Director Vipond. I’m having some trouble contacting Special Agent Santos. Is he with you?”

“No, thank the good Lord.”

Vipond’s tone became cautious. “Why would you say that, Marshal?”

“Because I’m buck naked getting out of the shower.”

Ben sighed again. “When you see him, could you have him call me, please?”

“I’ll add that to my priorities.”

“Thank you.

With Santos out of the picture, the day ahead looked a lot brighter. I dressed and took the medication that kept my head from blowing apart. I packed my bag, wiped the room down and I was ready to go downstairs.

My crew were in the dining room, and it felt great to have the freedom to meet them there and have breakfast together before beginning the mission.

As we went over the plan once more in detail, I could tell how hyped my guys were. Each of them knew their part and they were a team I could count on with no reservations. We’d saved each other’s butts more than once.

“The helo rental has been confirmed, and I have the directions to the airport. Are y’all checked out of y’all’s room?”

“Yes,” said Nick, stuffing a sausage into his mouth. “Just have to grab our bags from the bell room and we’re ready to roll.”

Lukas tossed a set of keys to Cage, “Our rental is parked in front of the hotel waiting for us when we’re ready. It’s gonna be a good day.”

“Good copy,” said Cage with a big grin on his face.

Port of Barranquilla. Colombia.

The helo rental place wasn’t too far out of Nick’s way to the pier, and he dropped me, Lukas and Aaron off to pick up the chopper.

Nick and the rest of the crew would complete their part of the op on the waterfront.

“See you guys for beers later in Medellin.” They gave us a wave and were gone.

Barranquilla Air. Colombia.

We walked into the terminal and went to the manager’s desk. Kamps had given them Aaron’s—Alonso’s—information so he could pre-vet him before our arrival. He confirmed that Aaron’s fake pilot’s license was valid—thank you, Kamps—and validated everything with Alonso’s passport. My CIA Amex with my fake identity covered the cost of the rental and security deposit. Thank you, Benny Boy.

An English-speaking pilot accompanied Aaron to the bird, where they did the walk around and checklists together. When they were satisfied Aaron knew his stuff, we were good to go.

I received a text from Kamps.

El Dorado Airport.

We filed our flight plan, tossed our gear bags in and took off.

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

Ben Vipond blasted into the office of the Deputy Director unannounced and hollered at her in his usual fashion. “Stoner, were you able to reach any of the other agents in the Bogota field office?”

“Not one of them. Not on the land line in the office or on any of their cell numbers. I don’t know what the fuck is going on down there, Ben.”

“We’ve got to find out what the fuck is going on in Colombia, Stoner. Are all of our men dead, for chrissakes? They’re not performing brain surgery and not taking calls. Somebody tell me.” Ben tore at his hair and left some of it standing on end.

Stoner tried not to laugh.

“They must be working, boss. I doubt if they’re all dead. We would’ve heard bad news like that by now.”

“Doesn’t make sense, Stoner. If they were out of the office working, they’d answer their cells, wouldn’t they?”

“You’d think so. I’ve tried every number we have on file.”

Breathing hard, Ben leaned on the front of Lana Stoner’s desk. “This is starting to scare me.”

“Is there something else going on down there that you haven’t read me in on?”

Ben shook his head. “No. Nothing like that.”

“Are you sure? You seem pretty upset over agents not answering their phones. Should I get you a bottle of water?”

“I need something a lot stronger than fuckin’ water, Stoner.”

El Dorado International Airport. Colombia.

The flight from Barranquilla to Bogota took only about an hour and a half, leaving us lots of time to recon the El Dorado Airport and get into position before the chopper carrying the target touched down.

We had time to look around the area while we waited for permission to land, and we settled on a red-roof building that backed onto the airport fence line. ‘PAINTBALL’ was scrawled across the roof in giant white letters.

We landed in the designated helicopter area, and someone from the rental agency gave the bird a once-over before moving it. I put my Spanish to the test and asked if this was where all helicopters landed. He said yes.

We grabbed a coffee and did a recon of the airport terminal.

“Buy these,” Aaron said, tossing woven red ponchos at me. They were something a tourist would buy and never use, and for some reason, we needed four.

I paid for the ponchos, and we continued to wander to check out the level of security. It didn’t take long to feel the presence of the Colombian military patrolling with ARs drawn and ready for action.

We made a beeline for the rental counter. I rented a vehicle with my CIA Amex, and we headed out.

We were driving out of the airport and into the city when we received the text.

Boat is docking.

“We’re in business, boys,” I said, “Our boy has docked.”

Lukas leaned back and stretched. “Twenty minutes to disembark, travel time by chopper of an hour and a half to two hours.”

I checked my super watch Blacky bought me. “Lots of time to get set up.”

Twenty minutes later—They’re using a decoy. In car now. Limo away. Helo took off just after. Sikorsky X2. Need for speed.

I told the boys.

“X2 is a fast bird,” Aaron said. “Holds the speed record. They’re not fuckin’ around.”

“So, the Russian Ambassador will want the limo from the embassy to arrive early,” said Lukas.

Aaron nodded. “Agreed.”

I had a thought and called Kamps.

“Hey, Tommy. What’s up?”

“Can one of your people sit on the Russian Embassy in Bogota? Give me a heads up when the limo leaves.”

“Copy that. You at the airport now?”

“Sitting here waiting.”

We disconnected the call.

Lukas timed the other limo driving south from Barranquilla. “The other limo has a fourteen-hour drive. When is Nick going to do his thing?”

“Probably the same time as us, by the look of it. He’ll call once the job is done.”

“Then we all meet at Medellin and go home.”

Two Colombian military vehicles drove onto the tarmac and unloaded another dozen soldiers each.

“Time to move into position,” said Lukas.

“Agreed. Let’s get set up.”

We were almost at the paintball venue that bordered against the airport fence. It was designed to provide plenty of places to hide and, as an added bonus for us, excellent sightlines onto the tarmac.

We pulled the Hilux to the far side of the building, behind the big garbage dumpsters, and then used the load bed to climb onto the roof. The clay tiles were already warm, but there wasn’t much we could do about that.

Lukas passed Aaron the rifle wrapped in one of the red ponchos. “Pass ‘em all up. We’re gonna need ‘em.”

Lukas tossed them, and I caught them. “Not hot enough for ya, Aaron?”

“These are our custom ghillie suits. We’re gonna use them to cover ourselves to blend in with the roof. From a distance, we’ll be invisible. It’s gonna be fuckin’ hot, but I’d rather be sweaty than dead.”

Good point.

Aaron got situated while I made sure we were completely covered. Once we stopped moving, it became stifling underneath.

Aaron wiped the sweat out of his eyes. “Price you pay for a good sniper nest.”

My phone buzzed with a text.

Russian Ambassador has left the building.

Good news. I told Aaron and forwarded the text

to Lukas.

Come back down a sec. I got you guys some water. No one around.

I slid behind the peak of the roof and then slid down to Lukas, who handed me four ice-cold bottles of water.

“Where’d you get these?”

“Compliments of the paintball confectionary.”

Sneaky bastard.

Shimmying back up was no easy task, but I made it up and under the ponchos again. Aaron guzzled his first bottle and tucked the second under his arm.

“Figure we got about half an hour before the Ambassador arrives and then the chopper.”

“Copy,” said Aaron, adjusting the scope.

Another text, this one from Nick.

“Jackpot, boss. Got a bit messy, but we’ll see you at exfil.”

“See you there.”

The limo from the Russian Embassy drove onto the tarmac and parked in the middle of the helicopter landing pads. Ambassador Vadim stepped out of the limo to stretch his legs, glancing into the cloudless blue sky.

Probably checking for the helicopter.

I double-checked the pic Kamps had sent me of the ambassador and looked again through my binoculars. We had the real McCoy. Obviously, he wasn’t in the decoy limo.

Called that one.

Just when the heat under those fuckin’ ponchos was becoming too much, we heard the chopper.

“Go time, Aaron.”

Oval Office. West Wing. D.C.

Lee and Yvonne were working together in the Oval when ‘Breaking News’ flashed across the bottom of the screen. The president caught a bit of it and glanced around for the remote.

“Turn the sound on, Yvonne.”

Took her a minute to find the remote stuck between the cushions in the seating area. She unmuted the audio, and they listened to the story together.

“A bombing in Colombia, targeting the Russian Defense Minister, Nickolai Petrovic?” Yvonne raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like Vipond’s work.”

The anger began to rise in Lee. “Get him on the phone, Yvonne. If he sidestepped me again, there’s going to be hell to pay.”

“Has he done that in the past?”

“I don’t know for sure, but Tommy says he’s a liar. I wish I was as good as Tommy at spotting people like that. He swears the people around me are lying to me all the time.”

Yvonne called from Lee’s desk phone and put it on speaker. “Go ahead, Director Vipond. You’re on with President Armstrong.”

“Thank you, Major Harrison. Mister President, how can I help you this morning?”

“Moments ago I happened to catch a news bulletin from Bogota, and it seems a limo belonging to the Russian Embassy, possibly carrying the Defense Minister, blew up on an open stretch of highway. What are you able to tell me about that, sir?”

“Nothing, sir. I just became aware myself.”

“For the sake of clarity, Director, you’re telling me this was nothing the CIA had a hand in?”

“No, sir. It wasn’t us.”

“I’m trusting that you’re telling me the truth, Ben. I’d hate to catch you in a lie. If it turns out you are keeping details from me, I will not be merciful.”

Yvonne glanced at Lee, who had just threatened the Director of the CIA.

“Sir, I can say with all honesty I know nothing about the limo incident.”

“Thank you, Ben.” Lee nodded to Yvonne. “It sounded like he was telling the truth.”

Yvonne picked up her cell and put it back into the pocket of her jacket while Lee leaned back in his leather chair and sighed. “Not the CIA.”

“Terrorists then?” asked Yvonne.

Lee smiled. “Let’s go with terrorists until we have better suspects.”

“I’ll contact our embassy in Bogota and see what our people are saying,” said Yvonne. “They’ll be closer to the situation.”

“Yes, do that, Yvonne. Have Ambassador Goldman call me. He’ll know if something is going on with the Russians. Our embassy isn’t that far removed from the Russian property.”

El Dorado International Airport. Colombia.

We were sweatin’ like a couple of hookers in church, but we were ready to go. “Go time, Aaron.”

“Ready, boss.”

The Russians stood casually as they waited for the helo to land. Didn’t seem worried a bit. They had Colombian soldiers everywhere and probably felt confident they won at this ‘shell game.’

But I guessed right, and I found the asshole.

Cocky bastards.

Huzzah.

Gently, the Sikorsky landed on the tarmac, and we were ready. We had one chance to get this done.

“On your call,” I whispered to Aaron, who was laser-focused on what he saw through his scope.

The Colombian soldiers fanned out, creating an outer perimeter away from the landing zone, with Russian soldiers from the Embassy standing with their Ambassador.

The passenger door opened.

Our man had barely set his foot on the ground.

Aaron took his shot.

Bang.

Perfect.

Petrovic’s head exploded against the white fuselage of the chopper.

Dead.

“Let’s get gone,” I said.

We slid down the back side of the roof, hotter than a fuckin’ fry pan. Tossed the bottles and ponchos down —leave no evidence—then climbed down onto the truck.

Lukas helped us, then hopped in the idling Hilux.

As quick as that, we were gone.

“Already programmed our escape route into the GPS,” Lukas said, his gaze flitting from the road to the map.

Bingo.

I texted Nick.

“On the move.”

I called Kamps. “We’re on the move to Medellin. Let the roadblocking begin.”

“Copy that. The blockers are ready. Get a fuckin’ move on.”

Sirens sounded all around the airport. We passed military trucks, cops and unmarked cars, all racing toward the tarmac.

Aaron broke down his rifle for travel. “Hope they don’t put choppers in the air.”

As we turned onto the road, homeless people spilled onto the street behind us, apparently in a mock fight. Shopping carts and trash bags flew everywhere as the homeless battled for supremacy. It was a royal rumble.

“Kamps’ people,” I said.

Lukas focused on the road ahead. “If they buy us another minute extra, it’s money well spent.”

Lukas called on the speed of the Toyota, and as we zoomed towards the exfil point, I called Vipond on the sat phone.

“Marshal Donovan?”

“Jackpot, boss. See you when I get back.”

Ben sounded surprised. “Shit, kid. Congrats. Amazing job.”

“Thanks.”

Medellin. Colombia.

Nick and the rest of our team were waiting at a small private airport at the south end of Medellin. The rented chopper was ready to fly as soon as we arrived with the pilot. 

Chet Kamps—fuckin’ brilliant guy—set this up for us, and so far, it was working. Smooth as glass. Kamps’ army of street people was a nice touch making sure we got away clean. Probably cost a small fortune, but Benny Boy was paying, so I was calling it money well spent.

Lukas parked the truck, and we wasted no time transferring our guns and gear to the chopper.

Everyone was anxious to get the hell out of Colombia.

Aaron did his check—safety first—then we jumped into the bird. We were airborne in minutes, flying over dense jungle that hid the border between Panama and Colombia.

Flyin’ west to David City, Panama.

One step closer to home.

Vipond Residence. Washington. D.C.

Ben got the call from Tommy, and he couldn’t believe the kid pulled it off. He was fairly sure the target would be eliminated and the op successful but figured Donovan would be sacrificed in the doing.

Would’ve been too bad. He liked the kid and respected his patriotism, but sometimes you had to give something up for the greater good.

He grabbed a beer, turned on the flat screen and began watching every news broadcast he could find. CNN had bulletins on every channel.

There would be no reaction coming from Russia unless it was a tsunami load of propaganda. That was a given.

Two more trips to the kitchen for beer and close to midnight, his people in Bogota finally started calling him back. He’d left a thousand fucking messages for those assholes.

“Where the hell have you been, Santos? Didn’t you think you should return my calls?”

“Couldn’t do anything about it, boss. I was carjacked and handcuffed to a chair in an old roller rink. They took my phone.”

“Bullshit. If they took you prisoner, how did you get away?”

“After I’d been there for a few hours, two guys came back and said I could go. One pointed a gun at me while the other uncuffed me. They told me where to find my phone and gun outside and left. Once I found it, I tried to call, but the signal was jammed.”

“Fuckin’ Donovan,” Ben spat out. “He figured he couldn’t execute his plan with you all over him, so he removed you from the chess board. Glad you weren’t hurt.”

Or dead.

“You and me both, sir.”

In retrospect, I never should’ve put a man on Donovan. I underestimated that kid again. I’ll know better for next time.

Wait - that’s what I said last time.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Lee watched the eleven o’clock news like he did every night before going to bed. The bulletin from Bogota stunned him and he immediately assumed Vipond lied to him about the limo bombing. These two events on the same day were definitely connected.

The CIA was in the Bogota thing up to their lying necks.

Furious, his heart racing, Lee grabbed for his phone and called Ben Vipond.

“Mister President, a late call.”

“It’s never too late for the president to call one of his directors, Ben. I need you in the Treaty Room in thirty minutes.”

“I’m not dressed.”

Lee held the phone in front of his mouth and screamed into it. “Then get fucking dressed.”

“Yes, sir,” Director Vipond replied.

This is really bad.

Understatement of the fucking year.

David City International Airport. Panama.

Aaron landed the chopper without a bump. We hauled our tired butts and our gear out of the bird while Aaron dropped off the keys at the office.

I went to a different rental counter and picked up the keys to our Mercedes Sprinter van, which had plenty of seating for our large gang and still room for our gear.

It felt great to be back in Panama. A familiar, friendly country with a warm, breezy climate.

We left the terminal, and I relaxed when I saw Mateo and his men waiting out front to escort us to Annie’s coffee plantation up in the mountains.

The plan was to regroup at Annie’s place and lay low until it was safe to make our way home. The whole world was looking for the guys who killed the Russian warmonger in Bogota.

Half of the world wanted to congratulate us, and the other half wanted us dead.

Treaty Room. White House. D.C.

Deep in thought, Lee paced back and forth in the Treaty Room while he waited for Vipond to show.

His first reaction had been to fire the Director of the CIA and place him under arrest, but after cooling down slightly, he’d decided to suspend him until he had the truth—all of it.

Tommy had mentioned all the liars in D.C., but Lee hadn’t taken him too seriously at the time.

There has to be somebody who works for me who isn’t a liar. Is there? I need to pay more attention when Tommy tells me something. There is a reason behind everything he says and he’s trying to help me.

Lord knows I need it.

Ten minutes later Vipond arrived looking like he’d just fallen out of bed.

Daniel showed him into the Treaty Room and Lee pointed at a chair. “Close the door, Daniel.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lee stood next to Vipond looking down at him. “I dare you to sit there and tell me another lie. Tell me again that you had nothing to do with the assassination in Bogota.”

Vipond said nothing.

Lee was getting worked up again. “The words you’re looking for are ‘The CIA orchestrated the assassination of Nickolai Petrovic.’”

“Yes, sir. It was the only way to slow down the war in the Ukraine and stop the massacre of thousands of innocent people. I had to do it and at the same time keep you and the White House out of it—clear of any implications. Plausible deniability.”

“Uh huh.” Lee couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Considerate of you, Ben, but you realize there will be world-wide fallout from what you’ve done.”

“Yes, sir. I’m hoping the Russian president is shocked and he takes a step back. I wanted to show him we are that committed to stopping the war.”

Lee nodded and walked around the polished meeting table, putting distance between them so he wouldn’t punch Ben’s smug face. “That’s one possible outcome. The other is a little thing called World War Three. These calls are not within your purview, Ben. I realize you take liberties occasionally, but this is far beyond the scope of liberty-taking.”

Acting duly scolded, Ben hung his head. “I realize that now, sir. I should’ve come to you with my plan.”

“How involved was the CIA in the physical execution of the plan?”

“No involvement whatsoever, sir. I contracted the op out so there would be no direct government connection.”

“Considerate. That’s why you insisted on Tommy?”

“Yes, sir. He’s the best, and he’s also not directly tied to any single government entity. If there is any blowback, it should pass us by.”

“And head directly for Tommy and the Blackmore Agency.”

“There is that sir.”

“This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better, Ben.”

“It might.”

Lee waggled his finger. “Oh, I guarantee it. Until I have all the details and can sort through this reasonably and calmly, I’m relieving you of your duties as Director. I’ll have Deputy Director Stoner assume your responsibilities while I sort you out.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Lee smiled. “You’re thanking me for suspending you?”

“I’m thanking you for not firing me.”

“Believe me, that was my first thought.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“Enjoy your time off, Ben. We may be faced with further discussions on this topic very soon.”

“Looking forward to it, sir.” Ben stood up and shook Lee’s hand.

Lee summoned one of the Secret Service men on night duty and had them show Ben Vipond to his vehicle. Then he called Lana Stoner at home and woke her up.

Oddly, she sounded wide awake and out of breath. “Mister President, is there an emergency I’m unaware of?”

“A small one, Deputy Director Stoner. When you go to Langley in the morning, you will assume the position of interim Director of the CIA, and you’ll take over Ben Vipond’s duties until further notice.”

“Yes, sir. I’m pleased to help out the administration any way I can.”

“Thank you, ma’am. If you have questions about what Ben is currently working on, I expect you have his home number.”

“I do, sir.”

“Thank you, Director Stoner. I’ll be in touch.”

“Looking forward to speaking with you sir.”

Chapter Seven

Tuesday, November 19th.

Powell Residence. Boquete. Panama.

Following Mateo and the Harley escort riding in front and behind us, Lukas drooped behind the wheel and looked like he might not make it all the way.

Keeping wheels on the unmaintained mountain road leading out of the town of Boquete to higher altitudes, I hoped we’d soon reach Annie’s place. All six of us desperately needed to lay our heads down.

When Lukas stopped at the gate, I was so fuckin’ tired I had to punch the security code in three times before it worked.

“Glad you made it, Tommy,” Mateo rumbled, still grinning. “Here for my last ride.”

“Last ride?” I asked, but he didn’t respond. He moved his bike out of the way as the boys unloaded.

No idea what that meant, but I had bigger things to worry about.

Like not dyin’.

I could trust Mateo to help us. I knew that. He and Annie had a special relationship, and if she asked for it, he’d make it happen. Their deep feelings for each other started long before I knew her, and she had this way with men, where they never quite got over her.

Trust me. I fuckin’ know.

Lukas parked in front of the sprawling house, and we hauled our gear inside. We picked rooms to sleep in, nobody caring what bed they landed on, and we crashed.

I was instantly settled in for the night and my eyes were closing on their own, but I had to make myself do one last thing.

I called Annie and she answered, sounding sleepy and sexy hot at the same time. I wanted her so bad right at that second. “Tommy?”

“We just got to your place, babe.”

“I’m so happy you’re safe, sugar. I’ve been frantic. I had Felix stock up the fridge down there for y’all and Mateo will bring you whatever y’all need. Stay on the property and away from the road until Chet and I find a safe way home for y’all.”

“Copy. Staying put. I love you. Have to sleep now.”

“Love you, Tommy. Call me when you get up.”

“Copy, babe.”

I flopped my head onto my pillow, and I was out.

Oval Office. West Wing. D.C.

Yvonne and Lee sat together on the sofas in the Oval Office and privately discussed the assassination of Nickolai Petrovic.

“Do you have any idea who was behind it?” asked Yvonne.

Lee nodded. “I confronted Vipond again. He said he didn’t tell me ‘for plausible deniability.’”

“Did you fire him?”

“Suspended until I can investigate everything. The man has a wealth of knowledge, and I’d hate to lose him, but if he acted alone, I might have no choice.”

“You’ve already suspended him? When did that happen?”

“Last night late. Very late. I ordered him to come over here so we could speak privately in person.”

“Strong power move, Lee. Good for you. Has Lana Stoner taken over?”

Lee wiped crumbs off his mouth as they ate Emily’s turnovers. “I gave her the title of interim director until I get at the truth.”

“Wise move. Stoner is smart as a whip, and she’s by far the better of the two to run the CIA. I’m not sure I would trust either one of them if it came down to it.”

“You think they would lie to me?”

Yvonne blinked, not knowing how to answer.

Lee’s making strides as a leader, but sometimes, he misses the easy things.

“I think they’ve already answered that question for you, sir. What did Vipond have to say for himself?”

“Not much. Once he finally admitted his involvement, he took the suspension like a man.”

Yvonne laughed.

“You find his predicament funny?”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing at Ben Vipond, but I’m not too fond of him.”

I’m not telling Yvonne about Tommy. I won’t risk his safety, and I hope he’s far away from Colombia by now.

“I’ll have a further conversation with Lana Stoner tomorrow to see what she knows about Bogota.”

“You think she worked with Ben on planning it?”

“That will be one of my questions,” said Lee. “I have many others. She may have known nothing about it. Ben isn’t big on sharing.”

“I’m looking forward to hearing what she has to say,” said Yvonne.

“I’ll speak to her alone.”

“Of course, if you think that’s the best way to proceed.” Yvonne couldn’t stop the ice creeping into her voice and Lee noticed.

Why is Yvonne ticked I want to talk to the Deputy Director alone?

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

Lana Stoner walked into the secure building carrying a whole new load of responsibility on her shoulders. The position she’d been striving for years to achieve now overwhelmed her.

First-day jitters.

She power-walked into her office and stood before her assistant’s desk. “Pack your things. We’re moving to the director’s office for the foreseeable future.”

“Is Director Vipond sick, Ma’am?”

Lana’s glib answer was almost schoolgirlish. “I assume you’re referring to former Director Vipond because you’re now working for Interim Director Stoner. We’re going to try to make that permanent, though.”

Her assistant began packing up her things. “Well, congratulations, Director, and I’ll see you over there. I’ll arrange to have our things moved immediately.”

They moved the bare essentials to Ben’s office and plunked the boxes down. “See if you can round us up coffee, Patty. I don’t know what Ben’s set up is. And explain to Ben’s PA why we’re here. We’ll need her to help us settle in.”

“I will.”

Patty closed the door and Lana flopped down in Ben’s chair. She smiled. “I knew I’d get here someday. Didn’t know it would be today.”

Where to start, where to start?

Lana booted up Ben’s laptop and was immediately stymied. You couldn’t go to the bathroom in Langley without a password, and the director's computer was no exception.

She called Ben’s cell. “Morning, Benny Boy.”

Ben sounded like he was half asleep. “Morning, Stoner. Got your fine ass in my chair yet?”

Lana lowered her voice, both in tone and octave. Ben liked it when she spoke in a husky voice, and she needed something from him. “As we speak. Grinding it into the cushion so it recognizes my imprint.”

“How’s everyone reacting to the news?”

“No reaction because no one knows yet. Just me, Patty and your PA, for now.”

“Calling to gloat, then?”

Stoner snickered. “Nothing so vile. Just need your password.”

“I’m not sure I want to give it to you. Nearly everything in there is highly classified.”

Lana laughed. “Do you have a choice?”

“Not sure what my options are. I’ve never been suspended before. Did Lee call you?”

“Well, when Armstrong woke me up last night—”

“As if you were asleep. Who were you fucking?”

She ignored the jibe, even though he was correct. “—he told me to report to your office this morning as interim director, which means I need access to the former director’s files.”

“Don’t get too cocky, Lana. I bet more changes are coming. I’ve never seen him so pissed. Who knows, he might not even want you for the job but needed someone to sit in the chair until he found someone better.”

Vipond was full of sour grapes, and Lana was having none of it. “Seems pretty straightforward to me. I’m in your office, and you’re at home watching game shows. What the fuck did you do to end up in this mess?”

Ben was quiet on the other end, and she actually thought he might spill the beans. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. Number One is the only person who can fill you in.”

“That bad, eh?” Enjoying the power, Lana laughed, trying to make Ben feel bad. “How long is your suspension?”

“Haven’t heard. The man said until he sorted it out, which means as long as I fucking want.”

Lana leaned back in the director’s leather chair, putting her Jimmy Choos on the desk. “Jeez, Benny. If you’ll be gone that long, I might have to redecorate.”

“I’m glad you find this funny, Lana. Laugh your beautiful ass off at my expense.”

Lana lowered her voice again. “Careful, Benny. Don’t add sexual harassment to your crimes.”

Ben could tell she wanted to verbally spar and flirt, but he wasn’t in the mood. “Gotta go. My coffeemaker is beeping.”

“Give me the password first.”

Ben spelled it out and Lana wrote it down so she wouldn’t have to ask for it again.

Now that she possessed the keys to the kingdom, she couldn’t stop smiling. “Enjoy your day.”

NSA Headquarters. Fort Meade. Maryland.

Deputy Director Floyd Cassidy sat in front of Dunnett’s desk for their daily morning briefing. Although they were in the business of gathering and parsing information, Floyd didn’t typically pass on ‘watercooler gossip’ until he could confirm. This rumor, however, was probably best left for the Director to vet.

Floyd sipped his tea—not a coffee guy—and made his last point. “The gang in the pit was gossiping this morning, and I thought you might be interested. Apparently, Director Ben Vipond has been suspended, and Lana Stoner has taken over his office in Langley.”

Dunnett raised a gray eyebrow. “That’s an intriguing story, Floyd. Let me call the Oval Office and see if I can confirm it.”

The president picked up on the second ring and his greeting sounded a little tenuous. “Blaine, what can I do for you?”

“I heard a rumor about Ben Vipond.”

“That didn’t take long to leak, did it? Ben has been temporarily suspended and that’s all I’m prepared to say until I delve into the problem further.”

“I understand, sir, and appreciate your candor. As always, sir, I wish you well with your investigation. Know that the NSA is at your disposal should you need our assistance.”

“Appreciate it. Just another fire to put out.”

Dunnett’s second call was to Yvonne. She used to confide in him freely, but things had changed in the past few weeks. Yvonne was more withdrawn and seemed unwell.

Leaning on their past relationship, Dunnett was prepared to push the envelope a little. “Good morning, dear.”

“Nice to hear from you, sir. Something I can help you with?”

“I spoke with the president moments ago, and he tells me Ben Vipond has been suspended.”

“That’s true and a temporary measure pending further investigation by the president. He’s taking care of the problem personally.”

Ben acted without Lee’s authorization again.

“I wouldn’t want you to go against the president’s confidence, but if I had to put the pieces together, I would say that it might have something to do with the incident in Bogota.”

“The timing is certainly in line,” said Yvonne. “Other than that, no details have been shared with me.”

“I thought the timing was more than coincidental myself. Lovely speaking with you, dear.”

Powell Residence. Boquete. Panama.

When I got up, Cage was swimming laps in the pool and Thorne was sitting in the sun in his boxers timing Cage and playing the part of swimming coach. Thorne shouted out orders and insults at Cage as he easily knocked off lap after lap. Thorne always made me laugh.

Felix, Annie’s property manager, was digging in one of the gardens. He always came early and did the physical work before it got too fuckin’ hot.

I walked towards the kitchen looking for coffee and counted six Diamontes on guard at the gate and near the house.

Annie is taking care of me.

Nick and Lukas were in the huge kitchen making breakfast and the smell of sizzling bacon made me hungry. I poured myself a coffee and sat down at the table next to Aaron.

“Everybody get caught up on sleep?”

“Yep,” said Lukas. “I’m feeling a lot better today and this ain’t a bad place to hang until we can go home.” Lukas gestured to the glass wall that overlooked the pool area.

“Gorgeous,” said Aaron. “Like our own private resort.”

I took my coffee out to the pool and called Kamps.

“Morning, Thomas. How’s your hideout?”

“Fantastic. You tuned into what people are saying?”

“A lot of chatter and different scenarios being tossed around, kid. Nothing pointing your way.”

“Blacky saying anything about how or when we can head for home?”

“Nothing yet, but I don’t think it’ll be by air. The FSB already has agents in major airports across Central America looking for Americans. They’ve had a Texas University soccer club in detention in Bogota since shortly after the attack. Anyone American is being interrogated and detained.”

“Do they have the authority to do that?”

Kamps snickered. “Did you have the authority to take their minister out? Not according to them, but they’re doing it anyway.”

“Does Blacky have a plan B yet?”

“We were talking about it earlier. Y’all might have to drive through Central America and cross through Mexico into Texas. If you can get into Mexico, we might be able to sneak a chopper in to pick you boys up.”

“What a pain in the ass. It’ll be so slow going if we have to drive all the way.”

“Few days,” said Kamps. “And you’ll be passing through some rough country. Could be jobs y’all could do on the way if y’all wanted to make the trip pay.”

“I’ll talk to the Creed boys and find out if they want to get paid on the way back to the states or if they just want to get home.”

“Let me see what’s available for contractors, Tommy. You guys take it easy for today. It’s way too soon for you to move yet.”

“We’re bone tired today. Be good to do nothing but eat and sleep and toss a few cold ones back.”

I ate breakfast in the kitchen with the guys and mentioned that Kamps was looking for jobs for us along the route home. A few contract jobs we could work for cash, but only if the rest of the crew wanted the money.

“I’ll think about it,” said Nick, speaking for the Creed. “My concern is we might bring the heat down upon ourselves. Knocking people off as we travel is a good way to shine a spotlight on where we are. The Russians would love that.”

Thorne nodded his blond head. “I like sitting by the pool, working on my tan, and watching Cage swim.”

They both laughed.

After breakfast, I called Ellis to check on the kids.

“Tommy, I’m so glad to hear from you. Are you coming home soon?”

“May take a little longer than expected Ellis. Everything going okay?”

“Yes. Farrell insisted on sleeping on the sofa while you’re away and he’s been here a lot. I do like having him here at night and of course the kids love him.”

“I second that idea, Ellis. Makes me feel better knowing Farrell is watching over y’all.”

He’s trying to get Ellis back.

Before it got too fuckin’ hot, I went for a slow jog through the plantation. The coffee and orange trees grew in alternate rows, and I loved the smell of them mingling together in the air.

So fuckin’ many bright birds in the trees, it was like running through paradise. I had to stop and sit under one of the trees when Lee called me.

“Hey, boss. What’s up in D.C.?”

“No better than yesterday, Tommy, but you knew that already.”

“You sound a little down, boss. All stressed out and defeated. Quick fix for that. You need to get laid.”

Lee laughed. “If that would fix everything, I’d be all over it.”

“Can I help with something?”

“Not really, but I wanted to discuss it with you anyway for my own peace of mind.”

I picked a long blade of grass and put it in my mouth.

I could live here except for the snakes.

“Shoot.”

“Vipond told me he contracted the Bogota job out to you.”

“Yep. True enough. Hope it makes a difference for you and for Jesse. I talked to him about it before I left.”

“Uh huh. I’m aware of your little chat with the Secretary of State.”

“You pissed at me, boss?”

Lee sighed. “No, Tommy. Never mad at you for doing what you think has to be done. I suspended Vipond for not running it by me first. He was behind the op. I understand that. It wasn’t your idea.”

“Nope. Not my idea, boss. Vipond laid it on me, but I could’ve turned it down and I didn’t. When I found out what was at stake, I took the job.”

“If for any reason you have to talk to the CIA, Lana Stoner is filling in as director until I decide what to do with Ben.”

“You seen Stoner’s body, boss? You gotta get on that train. Take her out for lunch and strike a fuckin’ match.”

Lee stammered. “I don’t know if that would be appropriate, Tommy. She works for me.”

“Jesus, Lee, if you wanna get technical, you’re the leader of the free world. Everyone kinda works for you. It’s lunch, not a fuckin’ White House orgy. Face it, boss. You’ve been sitting on your ass way too long. Time to get back in the game.”

“Do you think she’s someone I could connect with? You’re good at reading people. What does your gut say about her?”

I gave it a moment. “She’s tough—way tougher than she lets on. She always seems to be hiding something, but she also likes to have fun. Way more fun than you’re used to. She’s CIA, which means you can’t trust her. Always remember that CIA rhymes with lies.”

Lee laughed. “It does, does it?”

“Give her a chance, boss. You might like her. Maybe you’ll just like her for a lunch or two. Maybe a night or two. Who knows.”

“How do you know Lana Stoner, son?”

“Been to Ben, the fuckin’ liar’s office a few times and seen her. Talked to her a couple of times. Good rear view too, boss. I’m telling you not to wait on this.”

Lee laughed. “You are making me think about it, son. I need to talk to her anyway about her new role. She’s probably expecting me to call.”

“Course she is. She’s probably sitting on that beautiful ass in Ben’s office staring at the fuckin’ phone, boss. Ring her bell.”

Lee snorted.

Vipond Residence. Washington. D.C.

Ben was used to the intense pressure of running the CIA, guiding world-changing missions and protecting his country. So, being unemployed without a scrap of work to do, he was having a hard, dull day.

Ben drank too much beer and then made the dubious choice to switch to whiskey to spice things up. After hours of fruitless thinking and drinking, he was no closer to getting his job back.

Imagine that.

His cell rang and he figured it was Lana again with another question about one of the files. She’d been calling every couple of hours trying to get a handle on his crushing workload.

“Ben Vipond.”

“Hey, Ben. This is Tommy.”

Ben chuckled. “Hey, yourself, Donovan. Nice job down south. You calling me for a reason? Not sure if you heard, but I’m out of the loop now.”

Tommy sounded kinda mad, but that was par for the course lately. “Yeah, I’ve got a reason.”

“Give it to me, kid.”

“Mainly wanted to call you a fuckin’ liar and you got what you deserved like everybody else in that dirty city.”

“Harsh, but not inaccurate. Feel better?”

“Not really.”

“Where are you, Tommy?”

“Think I’d tell you that? The entire world is looking for me and you don’t give a shit if I’m alive or dead. In fact, you figured I’d be dead if I pulled off the mission, didn’t you? I thought we were past all this bullshit.”

Ben remembered Tommy’s threat and sobered up. “Every op is high risk, Tommy. You know that better than anybody.”

“Damn right, I do. What I don’t understand is why it’s so hard for you to support the guy doing your dirty work. You’d rather fuck me over than make sure I live to see another day. I got half the world wanting me dead, and the guy who I supposedly work for is in lock-step with those fuckers.”

Fuck. This kid isn’t just talking. He really thinks I’m as big a piece of shit as the terrorists.

“Not true. I’m glad you made it out.”

“No bullshit, remember? You agreed.”

Ben felt his ire rising.

Probably the whiskey.

“Look, Donovan. You’re not the only one with a blowback problem. Armstrong suspended me for not running the op by him, and I’m sitting on my ass at home.”

Tommy laughed. “He told me. You did it to yourself, you stupid fucker. I asked you if Lee knew, trying to give you the hint. How long did he bench you for?”

“I haven’t been given that detail yet. Any insight on how I can get my job back?”

“Your biggest problem is you’re not a team player, Benny Boy. Nobody likes you because you can’t be trusted.”

“Ouch. What’s with all the tough love?”

“You’re asking. I’m telling. You know a ton, but if the boss takes a shine to Lana and they work well together, you’ll be sidelined permanently. Hell, if you piss off the boss, maybe he’ll ask me to pay you a visit. I’d do that one for free.”

“Go to hell, Donovan.”

“I’m driving the bus, Ben, and that’s our next stop.”

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

Working late her first day on the job as director of the CIA, Lana Stoner received a surprise call from the president.

“Mister President, how can I be of assistance, sir?”

“We have a great deal to discuss, Lana, and I’d like you to join me tomorrow at the Four Seasons.”

“Of course, I’d be happy to do that, sir.”

“I’ve reserved a private dining room for one o’clock. Does that fit into your schedule?”

“I’ll make it fit, sir.”

“Would you like me to send a car for you?”

“Not necessary. I have a driver. I’m looking forward to our meeting.”

“I’m looking forward to it myself, Lana. I hardly ever get away from the West Wing.”

The call ended and Lana stared at the blank screen. She expected to be called to the Oval but not to be asked out to lunch.

Four Seasons? That was unexpected.

“What the hell should I wear?”

Chapter Eight

Wednesday, November 20th.

Powell Plantation. Boquete. Panama.

I was up early but still not the first one up. The Creed boys were enjoying our resort life and our little vacay in Panama. Annie’s beautiful home and property combined with perfect weather was hard to resist. If I wasn’t missing my kids so bad, I could’ve relaxed into it a little more.

I took my coffee out to the pool deck and sat at one of the umbrella tables to talk to Blacky. Cage was in the pool powering though the water like a fuckin’ outboard motor, making me wish I could swim like a Navy SEAL.

“Morning, boss.”

“Hey, Tommy. Y’all doing okay?”

“We’re great. Gorgeous day and the birds are singing. I saw one of them birds with the big beak…like on the cereal box.”

“A toucan?”

“Okay, sure.”

“I realize y’all will be getting antsy after a few days at Annie’s place, but please don’t move. There are Colombian choppers flying low all over Panama searching for you guys. They won’t be giving up for a few more days.”

“Any boots on the ground?” I asked.

“Granddad is trying to find that out, Tommy. We need to know where they are and how many, but for now we’re presuming the search is only by air. There’s a lot of jungle in Panama. A difficult country to search.”

“That’s why Annie picked it for the afterparty,” I said. “She knows Panama and we have protection here from the Diamontes.”

“Mateo will know about cops or soldiers intruding on his turf, Tommy. He’ll know sooner than Granddad or I will. Have a talk to him today and put him on alert.”

“Yep, I’ll do that this morning. Thanks.”

“No problem. Stay safe.”

NSA Headquarters. Fort Meade. Maryland.

Director Blaine Dunnett had been at his job for many years, and although he wished that, on many days, there would be no need for him in this role, there was one small perk; his grandson called him often for help.

“Granddad, have you heard anything coming out of Russia? What are they saying about the assassination of their minister of defense?”

“For the moment, Russia is terrifyingly silent, son. We’re expecting an explosive speech from the Russian President very shortly, and he’ll be pointing accusing fingers at us. Should be coming soon, but nothing yet.”

“Okay. I’ve been watching the news for it, and thought I might’ve missed it.”

“Don’t think so. President Ahmadi of Iran has publicly postponed the Secretary of State’s trip to his country saying he won’t entertain peace talks with the American Secretary of State as a show of respect after the recent Russian tragedy.”

“That’s a definite shot against the U.S.,” said Blaine.

“Absolutely, it is.”

“Do you have any updates on their search for Tommy?”

“The Colombians and the Russians were originally scouring Colombia, figuring they could catch our boys before they left the country. I was impressed by how quickly they shut down an entire nation. That didn’t last long, though, because the next day, they shifted gears and began joint air searches across Panama, extending into the rest of Central America. Somehow, they’re aware our boys escaped to Panama to wait for the hue and cry to subside.”

“Do you think they’re good at guessing, or we have a leak?”

“Tough to say, son. My hope is the former, my fear the latter.”

“Almost impossible to predict which way the wind will blow.”

“I agree.”

Oval Office. West Wing. D.C.

Secretary of State Quantrall arrived in the Oval Office for a meeting with President Armstrong. Armstrong shook Jesse’s hand and pointed to the chair in front of his desk.

“As difficult as it might be, Jesse, we have to ignore Iran for the moment and focus on placating the Russians…if we can. I’m not sure we can do either of those things effectively and I’m open for suggestions.”

“Charlie and I were set to fly to Tehran, but I’m not sorry there’s been a change of plans. It gives me more time to prepare for when the meeting does actually happen.”

Lee smiled. “If it ever happens. You’re working well with Deputy Radeska? I barely know him.”

“He’s the greatest guy, Lee. Honestly, he’s the glue holding the state department together. He’s worked there for years in many different capacities and I’m so lucky to have him there in the office next to mine.”

“Wish I had someone like that. Somebody super solid who knows all the players in Washington, and what they might be capable of.”

Jesse nodded his head. “That’s it, isn’t it? You come here thinking you know the rules, but it’s the people in power who bend the rules and prevent you from doing what you know is best for the country.”

“I totally get it. You fight to get something done—get a bill passed or obtain more money for a desperate situation—and you can’t get the House or the Senate to vote in your favor because of political rivalry, and all the days of work you’ve put into it go down the drain. Frustrating and deflating. Four years is a long time to keep trying, beating your head against the wall, and accomplishing nothing.”

A knock on the door and Tara Cabello let Sanchez Raney and Caroline Adamson into the office.

“Good, you’re here.” Lee motioned to the seating area on the other side of the Oval Office. “We’ve got to get press releases and speeches ready for later in the day. Raney will call a press conference for this afternoon, and we have to be ready with something comprehensive to give the public. They’re looking for answers and we have to provide them.”

Lee’s Chief of Staff, Carter Levalley, rushed in next along with Major Harrison.

“Will you be saying anything publicly about Vipond, sir?” asked Levalley. “I think you should.”

Lee shook his head. “There are more important topics the press are waiting for my views on. Director Vipond’s suspension is of little interest to anyone but Director Vipond.”

Yvonne smiled and so did Jesse.

The Secretary of State left the others to work on the speeches and headed back to the Harry S. Truman building to his own office.

Lee toiled for the next hour with Raney and Adamson, then he had to excuse himself to get ready to go to the Four Seasons for a luncheon appointment.

The Oval Office cleared out and Lee had a moment to himself in his private bathroom. A bit nervous, he fussed over his appearance and accidently put on too much cologne.

Remembering too late it was the very cologne Annie said she hated, he had to fix his mistake.

“Aw, shit. Why did I do that?”

Lee undid his tie, undid the top buttons of his shirt so he wouldn’t get it wet, washed his neck, dried it and started over.

Feeling a little damp, he called Dan and announced he was ready to go.

I need new cologne. I’ll ask Yvonne to pick up something she approves of.

Vipond Residence. Washington D.C.

Spending most of his day pacing and drinking and planning how he could get his job back, Ben called Special Agent Santos in Bogota to find out what was going on there.

“Director Vipond, what can I help you with?”

“Just wondering if Lana Stoner has been asking you questions about the Russian thing?”

“She hasn’t called, and I wondered how I should handle it when she does. Is she the boss now?”

“Until I’m reinstated, she is.”

“Any idea when that will be?”

“I haven’t heard from Number One today, but I’m anticipating a call from him soon. What’s going on in Colombia? Can you tell me that much?”

“The entire city is in an uproar after the assassination and the police are searching for the suspects.”

“Good,” said Ben. “Let them keep searching.”

“Can I ask where Marshal Donovan is?” asked Santos.

“You can ask, but I don’t know.”

“He’d do well to lay low for a while,” said Santos.

“Ya’ think?”

Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange. Texas.

Annie had nightmares about Tommy’s trip home from Panama. She’d made that long, difficult drive herself years before and knew full well how dangerous it could be.

I didn’t have two countries hunting me.

She got out of bed thinking of going to Panama herself.

Instead of calling her pilot and getting the plane ready like she wanted to, she called Mateo and had a long conversation with him in Spanish.

After daybreak, she made coffee, sat in her office and called Blaine.

“Morning, sugar pop. I’ve been thinking about Tommy’s predicament and thought maybe I’d take the jet down for a quick catch-and-release if you know what I mean.”

Blaine, took a deep breath, knowing this conversation might go sideways. “Mom, you can’t fly down and rescue Tommy, no matter how much you want to. The Powell Corp. jet will put a target on you.”

Annie’s voice had a dangerous tone to it. “Are you telling me what to do again, Blaine?”

“No, Mom, I’m recommending. The last few times something bad has happened to the Russians, you and Tommy have been involved. Shit, they sent hitmen to your ranch, remember? It wouldn’t be a stretch to think they’ve put one and one together and are watching to see if you’re involved in the assassination. If they are, you’d lead them right to Tommy and the Creed.”

When Annie spoke again, she sounded more maternal. “I’m sorry, honey. Lately, I get my back up as soon as you and Farrell mention Tommy. You’re right, though. I have to stay away from it.”

“Are you taking your meds, Mom?”

“Yes. I haven’t missed any doses. Tommy asks me that every time we talk, but you don’t want to hear me say that. Sorry.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Mom. Truly, I am. I’ll feel sorry for that for the rest of my life.”

Annie drank her coffee, and she was still shaky and grasping at any straw in a storm.

She called Chet.

“What, Beauty? Why are you calling me so early?”

“I’m coming over, sugar pop. I’ll bring breakfast. You probably don’t have any food.”

Kamps laughed. “Not a lot. You called it.”

Annie ran out to the garage when she was ready to go to the city knowing Mick would be awake. The coffee pot on the work bench was half-full and Mick was lying on his bed buried under Cleo’s huge furry body.

The other dogs were curled up on the mat next to Mick’s cot.

He sat up when Annie walked in. “What’s up? Is it Tommy?”

“I have to go to Kamps’ place and work on something. Will you ride with me?”

“Sure. Let me get the bikes ready. Are they watching you?”

“Blaine thinks they might be.”

“I’m up. Only take me a minute. Have a coffee and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Thanks, sugar.”

Old West Austin. Texas.

Kamps’ townhouse seemed empty without Roy and Chet himself had a sad look to him. Loneliness could do that to a person.

Annie should know. Look how long they made her stay away from Tommy.

I shouldn’t have listened to them. Keeping peace in the family comes with a huge price. They were wrong and now finally they’re admitting it. Farrell will never be okay with it. Blaine is trying, but I don’t think he’s okay like he claims he is. Neil says nothing. He’s holding it all in. They’re saying the words, but they don’t mean it in their hearts.

“I moved my office upstairs when I came back from D.C.,” said Chet, “Got used to working on the upper level, I guess.”

“Before we go up and start work,” said Annie, “let’s eat first. We brought breakfast and if we have some sustenance, it will help us think better.”

“I have coffee made,” said Chet. “One thing I’m fairly competent at in the kitchen.” He laughed. “Maybe the only thing.”

After breakfast, they all trudged upstairs and Kamps pointed to the maps he had fastened to the walls of the office. “I’ve started marking out the safest escape route for them to take.”

“Do you think doing ops along the way will divert eyes away from the big one in Bogota? The Russians, Colombians and Iranians are totally focused on blaming the U.S.”

“Nothing is for sure, Annie. Tommy and the Creed won’t be leaving your place for a few days yet, and by the time they get to the first HVT in Nicaragua, things might have settled down a lot.”

“I’m hoping and praying the Colombians give it up and stop looking,” said Annie.

“Too soon,” said Mick. “They won’t give up yet.”

Kamps pointed to the yellow pad next to his computer. “I’ve made a list of the most wanted criminals country by country and they are all sanctioned hits.”

“In only a few hours, you’ve made good progress, sugar,” said Annie.

“What I’m working on now are the safe houses and the people in each country who will help them. Might help them, depending which way they’re leaning at the moment.”

“Wonderful. If the search zeros in on them, they will need a safe place to run to.”

The morning flew by, and Annie felt considerably better about Tommy’s chances. She ordered lunch from Uber Eats and when the food arrived, they sat and talked about the baby and Chet buying a house and setting up the nursery for his son.

“Have you talked recently to Yvonne?”

“No. I’m trusting her to keep to her end of the bargain. Trusting her goes against my grain, but I’m doing it anyway.”

“What about Roy? Has he been calling you?”

“Yes. He calls every morning after Yvonne goes to the White House.”

“Good. He’ll keep her on track and let you know what she’s thinking.”

“Hope so.” Kamps seemed sad and resigned to his situation.

She knew he wasn’t an affectionate person, but when Annie hugged him, he hugged her back with more emotion than he’d ever shown.

Kids can do that to you.

Four Seasons Hotel. Washington. D.C.

Lee’s arrival at the restaurant caused a kerfuffle. Even though the proper people had been forewarned, they were not sufficiently forearmed to handle the president’s arrival.

“I knew this would happen and that’s why I came early. Such a pain in the ass to go anywhere, Dan. It drives me nuts.”

“It can be annoying, sir. It wears on your patience, I’m sure.”

Once he was secured in the private dining room with a drink in his hand waiting for Lana, Lee began to relax a little.

Dating would be impossible. That’s out.

Exactly on time, the door to the private room opened and Lana Stoner walked in. Dressed in a black designer pant suit, high heels and big gold hoop earrings, she reminded Lee a little of Annie, but Lana was taller, short stylish hair, and stunningly different in a number of other ways.

An attractive substitute when there was no possibility of him having the real thing.

Lee stood to greet her with a handshake and a wide smile. As she moved closer, her perfume had a dizzying effect on him he wasn’t expecting, and he forgot what he was about to say.

“Mister President.” Lana smiled.

“Director Stoner, so happy you could join me.”

“Happy to be here, sir.”

The waiter following Lana into the room, pulled out her chair for her, making sure she was comfortably seated. He directed his question to the president. “Would you like a wine list, sir? I could send the sommelier in if you prefer.”

Lee deferred to Lana, and she shook her head. “No thank you. I don’t drink until the workday is over. I can get into enough trouble without alcohol enhancement.”

Lee laughed. “I second that. Bring us coffee.”

“Certainly, sir.”

When the door of the private dining room closed and they were alone, Lee encouraged Lana to speak freely about the problems she was facing assuming Ben Vipond’s role as head of the CIA.

Everything she spoke of was highly classified and as she explained the issues, Lee looked at her in the way Tommy described her. Tommy’s brief synopsis of Lana Stoner was amazingly accurate. All of it.

The tough way she talked and cursed without apology, and how beautiful she was as she did all of that in a freely open manner was mesmerizing.

Lee listened attentively to everything she had to offer, and he was definitely attracted to her.

He offered a few suggestions for her most difficult situations and she seemed grateful. Then the talk moved to Ben’s position and her own tentative one.

“I haven’t had time to make an informed decision about Mister Vipond. I need to bring him into the office again and have it out with him. But what I would like is a recommendation from you on who should replace you as Deputy Director if I decide Ben is no longer suitable to run the CIA.”

“Okay, let me think about that for a minute. I know most of the senior agents pretty well and I can give you the names of my three top picks.”

“Wonderful. Let me jot their names down.”

“Mark Cantwell, Graham Tizzard and Logan Sterling.”

Lee wrote the names in the leather-bound book he kept in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “If you had to choose, who would be your first choice?”

“But I don’t have to choose, do I?” she laughed “Go with Sterling. He’s solid. You’ll like him.”

“Appreciate your help, Lana. I’ll request their files be sent to me and I’ll read through them.”

The waiter interrupted asking if they needed anything else and Lana declined.

“I’d better get back,” said Lee, “but this has been delightful, Lana. A pleasure talking to you.”

“For me too, sir. You’ve helped me see several things in a new light.”

“Dinner at the end of the week to touch base?”

“I’d be delighted. By then I should have a better handle on what’s going on in Ben’s office.”

“I’ll call.”

Creating a huge stir in the restaurant and in the hotel, they walked out together to the porte cochere where the presidential limo and Lana’s driver were both waiting.

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

Lana’s driver took her back to Langley and during the trip south of the city, she leaned into the back seat of the vehicle and analyzed her first meeting with the president.

Her first impression of Lee Armstrong wasn’t what she expected at all. They’d never met, although she’d seen him many times in person at different functions in and around Washington.

He was better looking up close, and the vibe he projected all through the lunch meeting was one of personal interest as well as getting to know her as the new director of the most powerful agency in the world. Two-fold, to be sure, but she got the definite feeling he was ready to hit on her.

Then at the end of the meeting came the dinner invitation. Did they have a lot more business to discuss? She didn’t think so.

Was there a lot more to be said on a personal level? Definitely. Was that where this was headed?

Lucky for me if I can get closer to him.

Surprised and slightly confused at the prospect of a relationship with Number One, Lana’s mind moved to the guy she’d been casually seeing for the past few weeks. A lobbyist named Kendall Rusk.

Rusk was a thirty-eight-year-old, D.C. powerhouse with buckets of money, and a loft she liked a lot. Their relationship would never be permanent, but they had fun together when time permitted, and the sex was fantastic.

Lana believed the president was getting it on with Yvonne Harrison—that was the current rumor going around Langley—but maybe that wasn’t true. Most rumors in Washington were absolute lies, but people wanted to believe them anyway.

It was almost four o’clock when she arrived back at Ben’s office at headquarters. She wasn’t allowing herself to think of the office as her own—not yet.

Patty rushed in bringing her coffee and the messages that had piled up in her absence.

“How was lunch with Number One?”

“I was dreading it, Pats, but it was actually kind of fun. I wasn’t prepared to like him, but I do.” Lana laughed. “Figure that out.”

Patty laughed too. “Maybe he’ll call you for a second date.”

Lana chuckled. “That wasn’t even a first date. That was a lunch meeting.”

“Four Seasons? Try selling me that one again.”

Before she had time to argue with Patty her cell rang. “Speak of the devil.”

“Were you talking about me, Lana?” Kendall laughed.

“Nope. Thinking about you a little.”

“Only a little? Don’t I make a bigger impression than that?”

“Sometimes you do.”

“Only sometimes? You’re deflating my ego, lovely Lana. How about dinner tonight at my loft? I’m cooking.”

“Umm… I’m not sure I can make it.”

“You seemed eager last week. What’s changed?”

“Several big changes in my life. Maybe you were too busy lobbying at the Cap to hear that Vipond was suspended, and I’ve taken over the CIA.”

“Unbelievable. Congratulations, girl. I’m happy for you. The top is where you were always headed.”

“I’m happy for me too, but I’ve got to work late and catch up on a lot before I leave tonight. Let’s talk next week when I get used to this a little more.”

“Sure. Fine with me.”

She couldn’t afford to screw up her future and her ultimate goal for great sex and a slab of wagyu beef. She was on the cusp of achieving something phenomenal.

Wait until I know if I’m staying in this office, then I’ll decide about Kendall. He’s probably seeing five other woman at the same time. That’s the kind of guy he is. No great loss.

Powell Plantation. Boquete. Panama.

Mateo and several of his men drove in the long laneway to check on me and the Creed. Happy for the chance to talk to the big guy, I sat with him outside and explained about the ground search by the Colombians.

“None of them on my turf yet,” he said. “None in David City. I can guarantee it. If they come, I will know, Tommy.”

“Thanks, bro. We’re in a bit of a bind here for the next few days.”

“Your safety is guaranteed on Annie’s property. I suggest you do not leave at this time.”

“Copy that. Grateful for your support, man.”

“We need to talk man-to-man for a moment, amigo.”

“Sure. I figure you want to talk to me about Annie.”

“Si. It is time for me to retire from the club and go back to Texas.”

“I understand, Mateo. It has always been a possibility. I’ll deal with it.”

“You are truly a man of honor, Tommy. A man to be admired.” Mateo shook my hand and I knew my life had just gone for a supreme shit.

Chapter Nine

Thursday, November 21st.

Benton Crescent. Georgetown. D.C.

Yvonne devoured the dry toast on her plate like it was the tastiest treat in the world. “Roy, I can finally eat a piece of toast for breakfast and keep it down. It’s a minor miracle. This is the second day in a row I haven’t been sick the instant I got out of bed.”

“Wonderful news.” Roy smiled. “When is your next checkup?”

“Next week and I’m not dreading it so much. If ever a person could get used to being pregnant, I think I’m a little more used to the idea now.”

“You have more color in your face,” said Roy.

“I’m definitely feeling better, but my clothes are getting tight. I need to shop for things that will hide my baby bump. The staff at the White House will be gossiping about me from morning to night once my secret is out.”

Roy shrugged. “Let them talk. Sticks and stones, Yvonne. Talk can’t hurt you.”

“Sometimes it can,” said Yvonne. “When I get farther along, I think I’ll take vacation time and stay home. Lee will have to manage without me.”

“He’ll adapt,” said Roy. “I’ll go shopping with you on the weekend and we’ll eat at that restaurant you like—the one with the gourmet mac and cheese.”

Yvonne laughed. “That will help me put on the pounds.”

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Sitting alone in the dining room, Lee sipped his orange juice and thought about his lunch meeting with Lana Stoner the day before.

She’s everything Tommy said she was and more. That kid knows what he’s talking about, and I should listen to him more.

“Should I call and ask her to come here for dinner on Friday night or would that be moving too fast?”

You’re not getting any younger.

Tommy’s voice resounded in his head. He picked up the phone and called.

“Good morning, sir. Are you at work already?”

“Not quite. I haven’t gone downstairs yet. Would you be open to joining me here in the residence for dinner tomorrow night?”

With no hesitation, Lana responded, “Of course. I’d be happy to.”

“Wonderful. Let’s say seven for drinks?”

“Seven will be perfect.”

Lee set the phone down and June rushed in with his breakfast. “Good morning, sir, you look well today.”

“Thank you, June. I believe I’m feeling a lot better about life in general and a lot of other matters.” He leaned down and patted Roxy on her big head.

Lee ate nearly all of his breakfast. Sometimes the girls in the kitchen got carried away with the amount of food they expected him to eat. All delicious, but the portion sizes were more suited for Tommy’s appetite.

Lee was reading the Post and drinking coffee when Ben Vipond called. “Would it be possible for me to come to the Oval Office and talk to you this morning, sir?”

“Let me check the schedule, Ben. It’s here on my phone. Hang on.” Lee checked the appointments Bethany had made for him and figured he could get rid of Congresswoman Shaw ten minutes early and talk to Ben. A decision had to be made.

“I can squeeze you in for ten minutes around nine thirty, Ben. Sorry, but that’s it.”

“Nine thirty will be fine, sir. See you then.”

“Damn it. I haven’t decided about Ben yet and he’s going to push me to come back to work. Do I want to give him another chance? Or would that be telling all the other Agency Directors they can blow up Russians and only get three-day suspensions?

I don’t want to look soft. Too much of that lately and I can’t afford any more. Claudia is watching the polls, and she’s not pleased.

He called Tommy.

“Morning, boss. What’s up?”

“I talked to Lana Stoner, and you were right. She’s lovely.”

“She ain’t lovely, boss. She’s tough and smart and hot as hell. Probably great in bed, but I wouldn’t trust her with my truck keys. Know what I’m saying?”

Lee laughed. “Lovely might have been the wrong word.”

“Yeah, for sure. Progress report? You ask her for dinner yet?”

Lee chuckled. “She’s coming tomorrow night.”

“One point for the big guy.”

“Ben Vipond is coming this morning, and I have to decide whether his suspension is temporary or permanent.”

“Which way are you leaning, boss?”

“Considering the enormity of what he hired you for without consulting me, I don’t think I have a choice.”

“Ben is a liar and a user, and he doesn’t follow any rules of duty or honor.”

“Wow, Tommy, that’s a damning endorsement.” Lee chuckled at his own joke.

“He’s got none of that good stuff to keep him in line. He left me in the sandbox with no way out and I haven’t forgiven him for that—never fuckin’ will—and if I hadn’t come up with my own exfil plan in Colombia, I wouldn’t be talking to you now. Ben knew I could do the job, but figured I’d die in the trying and he didn’t give a shit. That’s the kind of guy he is. You can’t trust him.”

“Thanks, son. That’s useful information. I’ll make my decision and be ready for him. I’m glad you’re safe, wherever you are. Please stay there for a while longer until people calm down.”

“Copy that, boss. Go hard on Stoner.”

Lee laughed as he ended the call.

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

After receiving the dinner invitation from Lee Armstrong, Lana Stoner was convinced the president was hitting on her. There was no hint of why he was asking her to his private quarters for dinner, so she had to assume the invitation was personal.

Should she go along with it? He was good-looking and fit, and he wasn’t kinky or creepy. Just an intelligent man at the top of the ladder, and he was probably lonely living in that museum all alone.

Kendall Rusk isn’t anyone I would want for the long term. He’s too ambitious and self-centered.

She decided to go for Number One.

I need a new wardrobe.

Oval Office. West Wing. D.C.

Vipond arrived at nine-fifteen. A little early to ensure he didn’t miss his precious ten minutes with Lee Armstrong. He didn’t like the president and never had. There were very few of the top men in D.C. who did like the man in charge. They felt he was too soft.

Waiting in the outer office, Ben had a hopeless feeling and figured he knew what the outcome would be, but he had to try.

He’d put in long hours through years with the CIA and he wasn’t ready to retire. The world was in a huge mess, and he was one of the few people who knew what was going on in all the unfriendlies. He knew how to fix a lot of it, he just needed more time.

Tara Cabello showed him into the Oval Office as soon as the current appointment made her exit. A congresswoman or senator, but Ben didn’t recognize her.

He walked in and Armstrong didn’t get up. Armstrong pointed to the chair next to the desk and Ben sat down.

Not a good way to start.

“Did you wish to add something to our previous discussion, Ben?”

“Only to say I’ve spent years working in the CIA, and I’ve always put the needs of our country first. I’m not a traitor, sir. I’m a patriot.”

Lee nodded and Ben continued.

“The decision I made about Bogota was the right call. The only way to slow the war down and push the Russians a step back was to take out the man calling the shots.”

“I’m not arguing the merit of it, Ben. Just that a decision that monumental wasn’t yours to make. I should’ve known about it.”

Ben took a deep breath, knowing this could save or sink him. “I made the call because I truly believed you never would. You have a well-known history of riding the fence, and I didn’t want to take that chance. It was too important for the Ukraine and, frankly, the rest of the world too. The people of Ukraine don’t have the luxury of waiting for you to come to the right decision, sir. A move had to be made.”

Lee sat, stunned. “That’s quite a load of honesty, Ben.”

“Apologies if I offended you, sir, but you wanted the honest reason, and I felt I owed it to you.”

Lee sat silently in his chair, swiveling back and forth as he stared at Ben.

“Aren’t you glad Petrovic is out of the picture?”

“I am. I’m not denying it, Ben. The Russians are scrambling, and the Ukraine soldiers are getting their licks in and pushing the Russians back.”

“Then you agree it was a good call. Look, sir—all I want is to get back to work.”

“I’ve gone over your record since we last spoke.  There is no question that you’ve worked incredibly hard and have had enormous success. But the times have changed, as they say, and today’s methods aren’t the same as when you started. Now, we actually like working as a team and try hard to do so. That’s why I feel it’s time for you to retire. You’re just not ‘team’ material.”

Ben jumped out of his chair and shouted, “I don’t want to retire. I’m not even fifty.”

“Take your retirement and your pension, Ben, and do it quietly.”

“Goddammit, Armstrong. Why are you doing this to me?” Ben pounded his fist on the Resolute desk.

The door of the Oval Office opened, and Dan Black ran in with two other Secret Service agents. Dan took Ben Vipond by the arm and looked to the president for direction.

“Show Mister Vipond to his vehicle, Dan. Thank you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Diamontes Clubhouse. David City. Panama.

Mateo’s men on city patrol returned to the clubhouse with news of Colombian soldiers in the city.

“How many, Emilio?”

“Three trucks, boss. Twelve men in each.”

“Take a dozen men for each truck. Chase them into the jungle and kill them all.”

Mateo gave the order to his men in Spanish and then called Tommy and told him the Colombian soldiers were searching the city.

“Okay, I hear you man. They’re getting closer.”

“Stay out of sight and let us handle this,” said Mateo. “We’ll take care of it.”

“We can help you.”

“No. That’s not the way Annie wants it. Don’t leave the property. If they are coming north, I’ll give you warning.”

“Thanks, Mateo. I owe you.”

After warning Tommy, Mateo called Annie in Texas and spoke to her at length in Spanish.

“Mateo, I want to do something to help you and Tommy.”

“Do not come down here, mi amor. This is not the time.”

Annie cried and Mateo wished he could do something to calm her worried mind. Stress was not good for the woman he loved. Soon he would be able to make it all go away.

The Blackmore Agency. Austin. Texas.

Blaine picked up his phone and didn’t like what he was hearing from Kamps. Colombian soldiers were searching David City.

“David City isn’t that far away from where Tommy is, boss. Forty or fifty miles north. That’s all it is.”

“Yeah, I get it,” said Blaine. “The Colombians are incensed because the Russian minister got killed on their turf after they practically guaranteed his safety. Do you think the Russians will come back on the Colombians because of it?”

“That’s what the Colombians are afraid of,” said Kamps. “They went to immense trouble to keep Petrovic safe. Arrival by ship, decoy car, tons of soldiers, helicopter travel. In the end, it didn’t matter a blue fuckin’ whit, did it? Tommy saw through it all.”

“Yeah, he saw through it. I don’t know how he does it, but here we sit, with the number one Russian war guy dead as a doornail. One for the good guys.”

Blaine’s next call was to the NSA, and he filled his grandfather in on what was happening in Panama.

“The Russians aren’t happy with the Colombians, son. We’re picking up a lot of chatter indicating that the Colombians are going all out to find the assassins. They have to make it right to save their tentative relationship with Russia.”

“That makes it worse for Tommy and the crew,” said Blaine. “The harder the Colombians work to find them to save face with Mother Russia, the more dangerous it is for our guys.”

“Copy that,” said Granddad. “This is turning into an ugly situation.”

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

Lana asked Patty for the files on Agents Sterling, Tizzard and Cantwell. She reviewed each file as they landed in her email and added her own personal comments to each. When she finished, she sent the three files off to Lee Armstrong with a personal note.

“Maybe this is what he wants to talk about tomorrow night. He needs a new deputy director if he lets Ben go. If that happens, this will be my office permanently.”

I guess I’ll find out when I get to the private residence. I wonder if I’ll get to see the Lincoln bedroom.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Working late in his home office, Lee received the files from Lana’s office, and he started reviewing them right away. Flipping through the candidates’ work histories, Lana’s notes were sharp—efficient, but personal. The small details she added told him more about the men than their résumés ever could. He found himself smiling as he picked up his phone.

“Appreciated your notes on the agents. Obviously I’ve never met them, and I found it helpful.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

“I’m looking forward to dinner tomorrow night.”

“I am too, sir. I’ve never been invited to the private residence before. A first for me.”

“I’m hoping it will be an enjoyable first.”

“I’m sure it will be.”

Powell Plantation. Boquete. Panama.

Mateo and eight of his men on Harleys roared through the gate and hearing the rumbling of the bikes, I ran out the front door to see what was going on.

Mateo set his stand and sauntered towards me, his everyday pissed off look replaced by something more dangerous.

“What’s up?”

“Truckloads of Colombian soldiers search my city for you and your men. There is little the Panamanian government can do.”

“Are you worried?”

Mateo grinned evilly. “I am not the Panamanian government. There is much we can do, and we will take care of this problem.”

“Do you think they’ll search outside the city and move up into the mountains?”

Mateo shrugged. “If they do, you will be trapped, mi amigo. There is no way to Costa Rica except to drive south to David and take the highway. There are no other roads to the border.”

“What’s our best option, Mateo?”

“My men will take out the soldiers we have seen. If there are others—more trucks—we will kill them when they try to come up here.”

“Come inside and we’ll talk to Nick.”

Me and Lukas and the Creed boys sat at the kitchen table, drank a few Altas beers and had ourselves a little meeting.

In English, I repeated what Mateo had told me in Spanish about the Colombians, and after Thorne and Cage—our recon guys—studied the local maps, Nick decided we should leave Annie’s place as soon as David City was clear.

“We’re pooched if they figure out our location and send in the troops,” I said. “We’d be boxed in.”

“Could we hide in the jungle?” Cage asked.

“Fuck no,” I said, a little too quickly.

The boys laughed, remembering my hatred of snakes.

Cage leaned on the table. “So what’re you thinking, Tommy?”

“Our biggest hurdle is getting through David City. Tons of soldiers already, and probably more FSB spooks watching. The only way to increase our odds is to make the run at night and head straight for the Costa Rican border.”

“Diamontes will escort you to the border,” said Mateo. “We cannot go farther than that.”

“Understood. Even that far will be helpful.”

Nick nodded in agreement. With protection, we’d make it into Costa Rica before we were completely on our own.

“We’ll pack up and get ready to leave,” I said. “Does everybody agree with the plan?” I turned to my brother. Always quiet, but his brain traveled at warp speed. “Lukas, what do you think?”

“After looking at the maps and seeing that we’re almost at the top of a road that don’t go anywhere, if the Colombians are coming our way, I think we have to get out of here and get gone.”

Nick stood up and moved towards the bedrooms. “Okay. Let’s get ready and load the truck.”

“We leave at dark,” said Mateo. “More of my men will join us as we pass through the city.”

“Copy that,” said Nick.

Near the equator, darkness fell around six-thirty. Equal days and nights was the thing. Same all year round at Annie’s place. We had an hour and a half.

Thorne loved to drive, so he took the first shift as we headed down the mountain.

Mateo and his men were out in front watching for oncoming, and he was in touch with his men in the city. We’d have advance warning if there were Colombians in our path or about to ambush us.

I was happy we were heading home, but it wouldn’t be clear sailing, and I had to wonder if we’d make it all the way to Texas.

Chapter Ten

Friday, November 22nd.

David City. Panama.

It took about forty-five minutes to drive from Annie’s little piece of paradise down to David City. Mateo rode out front on his Harley and was in constant touch with his men posted at vantage points throughout the city he ruled.

Using a labyrinth of back streets and alleyways only the locals knew about, Mateo led us through the city from east to west.

We made slow but steady progress and reached the west end of the city before a minivan of Columbian soldiers caught sight of us.

They were on our tail and catching up quickly.

“I’ll get reinforcements,” Mateo yelled as he rode beside us. “Turn down the third street on your left.”

“Third street on the left. Got it,” Thorne shouted back.

Mateo and his soldiers peeled away. For a split second, doubt flickered in my mind—was this a setup? But no. This was Mateo. He wouldn’t do that to me.

“Why’s he leaving?” Lukas asked.

“Part of his plan. This is his city.”

Thorne pushed the gas, the engine growling as we tore past the first street on the left.

Gunfire erupted. Automatic rounds ripped through the night, chewing into concrete and parked cars. Muzzle flashes strobed behind us with reckless abandon.

Second street on the left.

The minivan chasing us closed in fast. I glanced at Thorne—he was grinning.

“Hold on!” he shouted.

Third street on the left.

Thorne yanked the wheel hard. The Sprinter tilted dangerously, tires screaming, but it stayed upright.

The pursuing van skidded past the turn, brakes locked. It slammed into a wall with a crunch of metal, but the driver threw it into reverse immediately.

“Get the guns,” I yelled. “I don’t know where Mateo is.”

We shot down a narrow alley, hemmed in by hulking industrial buildings. No side streets. No escape routes.

Pitch dark.

Potholes jostled us, headlights bouncing erratically over cracked pavement.

“They’re back on us,” Nick shouted. “And there’s another set of headlights behind them.”

“Holy fuck. Dead end.”

Thorne wrenched the van into a sideways skid, tires howling before we slammed to a stop in front of tall, wrought-iron gates.

We poured out, weapons up.

The first van screeched to a halt seventy-five feet away. Four Colombian soldiers scrambled out, ducking for cover.

Then came the truck.

A military transport rumbled in behind them, tires kicking up dust. More soldiers spilled out, eight this time.

They fanned out and opened fire.

Bullets shredded the air.

“If they call for backup,” Lukas shouted, firing off a shot, “we’re completely fucked.”

“Where the fuck is Mateo?” Nick roared, slamming a fresh mag into his rifle.

The firefight reached a fever pitch, the snap of gunfire echoing off the alley walls. But then—

A new sound.

A low rumble at first. Then louder.

Roaring Harleys, quickly joined by a deluge of auto rifle fire.

Gunfire from the Colombians died out, their formation crumbling, followed by a wave of motorcycles flooding the alley.

“All clear, Tommy.”

Mateo.

By the time we reached the bodies, the red glow of taillights filled the alley as thirty or more bikers disappeared into the night.

Mateo grinned as he took a long drag of his smoke. “Sorry it took so long, amigo,” he said. “We ran into another truck on the way to you.”

The Diamontes picked through bodies and wrecked vehicles, searching for radios—anything we could use. The carnage was absolute. Blood pooled beneath the fallen. The cars were chewed apart by gunfire, insides ripped to shreds.

Nick turned to Mateo. “Any of your men hit?”

“Two,” Mateo said. “Already on their way to our medic. They’ll be fine. We caught them off guard, just like I wanted.”

Mateo’s men pushed the wrecked vehicles aside with the help of The Creed.

“Time to move, Tommy,” Mateo said. “They know you are here now, and they won’t stop coming.”

I nodded, gripping my rifle tighter. “Yeah. We’re ready.”

Concepcion. Panama.

We left the massacre cleanup to the Diamontes and followed Mateo back to the highway. Smooth going for another ten miles before more trouble caught up to us.

“We’ve got a tail,” said Thorne, “and they’re coming up on us fast. Hang on. They’re gonna ram us.”

Crash.

Ear-splitting keening sound of metal on metal. Then the twisting, ripping of bumpers and grills as Thorne tried to hang on and keep the van on the road.

Couldn’t do it.

We were forced off the fuckin’ road and there was nothing we could do but jump out and fight. Only ten minutes since our last battle and energy levels were low.

But we were a little more prepared than the last time. Guns in our hands, reloaded and ready for another round with the Colombians.

The boys took cover behind our van, and the soldiers did the same behind their pickup. Gunfire was exchanged, but we were at a standstill.

So, Lukas and me changed the odds in our favor.

We tossed grenades at the soldiers’ pickup. Mine rolled under the truck, and his landed in the load bed.

Sucks to be hiding behind that pickup.

Boom.

The truck blew sky-high and took out three of the soldiers. The other three ran from the blaze. Aaron took two of them out, and Cage wounded the third. To be sure, he jogged over and put a bullet in his head.

Nick was concerned with the damage to our vehicle. The back end of the van was demolished. The doors were fucked, and the left rear tire was at such a messed-up angle, it wasn’t goin’ on the same trip as the rest of us.

“Tommy, we need a new set of wheels.”

“Guess I never shoulda blown up their truck.”

“Too late now,” said Cage. “Got any other ideas?”

I shrugged and pointed to Mateo, who was hollering at somebody in Spanish on his phone.

“We need a new ride, Mateo,” I said.

“It’s on its way,” he said.

It wasn’t long before headlights appeared on the pitch-black road.

“Soldiers or friendly?” I asked Mateo.

“It’s your new truck,” Mateo said, lighting another smoke.

A Ford Super Duty with policia painted on the doors in big blue letters held the Chief and one deputy doing the driving. The truck was followed by another squad car for backup.

I wasn’t sure if the cops were a good or a bad thing for us. Depended if they were on Mateo’s payroll.

“This is my cousin, Phillippe,” said Mateo. “You take his truck and go to the border. I called ahead and they’re expecting you. Five hundred U.S. to let you through. You will have no problem.”

“Are you sure about the Chief’s truck?” I asked and Mateo gave me a big grin.

“Good fuckin’ idea,” said Mateo.

Nick nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it is. How far is the border?”

“About thirty miles. Twenty minutes. Go now.”

“I’ll transfer the gear,” said Lukas.

Panama/Costa Rica Border.

The Ford Super Duty wasn’t as roomy as the Mercedes Sprinter van, but we weren’t sightseeing, so it would have to do. Six of us were crammed in, but with Mateo’s call-ahead and us looking like cops, we breezed up to the guard house at the border with no worries.

Thorne stopped at the guard shack, reached his arm out the window and dropped the wad of bills into one of the pockets on the guard’s uniform.

“Gracias.”

A big grin and a happy wave and we were in Costa Rica.

“How far do you want to go before we stop and get some sleep?” asked Nick.

“Rio Carlo looks like it’s about half an hour ahead,” said Cage. “Why don’t we grab food and a bed there and start fresh at daylight?”

“Copy that.”

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Lee sat at the breakfast table with the Post in his hand and all he could think about was Lana coming for dinner. He hadn’t dated a woman since his divorce from Amelia and wondered if he even knew how to act.

What should they talk about? How should he approach the dating thing? What if she had no interest in him as a man and shut him down completely?

Rumors spread like wildfire in Washington and his poll numbers weren’t high enough to sustain another blow. Claudia would be furious if he made a mess with Lana Stoner, and tawdry details were spread out and exaggerated on the front page of all the papers and on every TV screen in the nation.

I’m not a normal guy starting a new relationship. The entire world is watching every move I make, and I have to be careful.

Vipond Residence. Washington. D.C.

Ben opened his eyes and shut them again. Too much sunlight in his room and the brightness burned right into his soul. The throbbing in his head from his hangover was debilitating.

“I can’t get out of this fucking bed. Maybe never.”

His full bladder was the deciding factor. He had to make a move or piss himself. Ben was forced to push the duvet off and stagger to the ensuite.

After he relieved himself and splashed water on his face, he headed downstairs to make coffee.

“I’ll head down to Langley today and talk to Stoner. Maybe she can talk some sense into Armstrong and make him see I’m the guy who knows all the players and I’m the guy who can do the job better than anybody else.”

Even better than Stoner.

NSA Headquarters. Fort Meade. Maryland.

Dunnett spent most of his morning in the pit listening to chatter from the Colombian soldiers in Panama. Even though he wasn’t officially read-in on Tommy’s op, Blaine knew enough to know his boy was being hunted. 

The conversations the NSA intercepted mainly were about ‘no joy,’ never finding the assassins. As of last night, though, there had been action. The assassins had been located and hunted.

And escaped.

Colombian military teams reported sightings of the fugitives, reported vicious firefights, and never reported again.

Reports mentioned a powerful biker gang that engaged the soldiers on multiple fronts. It was almost as if the bikers were running interference, the soldiers said.

Why would a biker gang in Panama fight Colombians on Tommy’s behalf?

Blaine would be the one to ask. Dunnett sat down in his leather chair and called.

“Granddad, do you have news of Tommy?”

“Yes. I was downstairs and a lot of Colombian soldiers have been killed by a biker gang called the Diamontes. The Diamonds. What do you know of them, son?”

“They are a motorcycle club that belonged to Lorenzo Valentino. A man Annie was once married to and the club, in essence, now belongs to, and answers to Annie. It’s run by a man named Mateo, and he’s a good man. On Annie’s behalf, he is doing all he can to help Tommy and the crew he has with him.”

“I see. A complicated scenario.”

“It is.”

“How many members in this club, son?”

“They have chapters all across Panama and they control the entire country. I would guess they have close to five hundred members. Maybe many more.”

“A large army,” said Dunnett. “They would make a formidable opponent for the Colombian soldiers.”

“Yes, they would.”

“Thank you, son. I wasn’t clear in my mind what was happening down there, but that explains it. Let me know if you hear of anything else.”

“I will. Have a good day, Granddad.”

Dunnett pushed back in his chair and called Utah.

Rio Carlo. Costa Rica.

The rooms in the motel in Rio Carlo weren’t too bad. The beds were comfortable, and the showers provided hot water. Couldn’t ask for more than that.

While we slept, no Colombian soldiers pounded on our doors and tried to kill us. That was a bonus.

When I woke up, I sat on the side of the bed, lit up a smoke and called Mateo.

“You crossed the border easily, Tommy?”

“Yes. Fantastic. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I don’t need thanks from you, Tommy. There is only one thing I want in life, and you know what that is. I have money and all the rest of it. I wish you a safe journey to the Texas border.”

Mateo misses Annie and he should be with her, not me.

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

Vipond had the luxury of a government driver for so long he had to make two attempts to back his Beemer out of his driveway into the street.

“Shit. How did I let myself get into this kind of shape? I should be shot and pissed on for allowing it happen.”

Did he even remember how to get to Langley anymore? For the past months, he’d worked on his laptop all the way to work every day and never even looked out the windows.

Ashamed to use the GPS, he told himself he was only using it for the traffic alerts, but it helped in other ways as well.

The drive south was long enough to calm him down, but his blood pressure rose again when he got to headquarters. He couldn’t get through the gate.

His security code had been removed from the system and the gate wouldn’t open. He parked off to the side and called Stoner’s cell.

A guard came and opened the gate for him and escorted him to the visitors’ parking lot. “Jesus, they’re making me park in the visitors’ area? I can’t believe it.”

Ben found a spot and before he got out of his car, Lana Stoner ran across the parking lot in her high heels and jumped in the passenger seat.

“Let’s talk out here. It will save you a lot of explanations and embarrassment.”

“Why the hell should I be embarrassed for doing the right thing for my country, Stoner? Explain that to me.”

“I can’t. It’s the way it works in this fucked-up city. I didn’t make the rules, and I don’t follow a lot of them.”

“Armstrong is forcing me to retire.”

“Better than being fired, isn’t it?”

“Feels the same to me. I won’t be able to work.”

“True, but you possess a lot of knowledge, Ben.”

“I can’t even get into the parking lot without help.”

“What about being a consultant? You’d make a lot more money than working directly for the government.”

“Who would hire me? Spies Are Us?”

Lana giggled.

Ben shook his head and Lana thought he’d gone gray almost overnight. He looked terrible, but she didn’t say it out loud.

“I’ve run into a few problems going through the things you were working on when you left. Do you feel like answering a couple of questions for me? You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

“Ask away. I’ll answer if I can.”

Stoner asked her work-related questions and realized Ben was a storehouse of information and she could really use him.

She turned sideways in her seat. “What about a transitional period?”

Ben gave her a look. “What are you talking about, Stoner?”

“It would be better for the agency if you stayed on as a consultant while I got a handle on things. Armstrong says you’re going to retire but not until I’m up to speed. You get to keep working—or we work as a team until your retirement kicks in.”

I didn’t realize how badly I needed him and what he knows. Things that are in his head and not in the files.

“I see where you’re going with this. Would Armstrong go for it? He told me to retire quietly. Coming here every day helping you out wouldn’t be so quiet. Everybody in D.C. would know what was going on.”

“He would have to sanction it and make the call.”

“Would you talk to the prick for me?”

“I’ll mention it.”

“You’d do that for me, Lana?” Ben smiled for the first time in days.

“Yes. I’ll do it. All I can do is present the idea and it will be up to Number One.”

I’ll make it happen. More for me than for Ben.

“Thanks, Lana. I appreciate it, and I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry, Ben, I’ll collect from you one of these days.” She jumped out of Ben’s car and ran back inside the building.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Lana Stoner arrived at the door of the private residence right on time and Lee still wasn’t ready. He’d fussed with his appearance for the past forty-five minutes, mostly worrying about his hair and if he had too much of the new cologne on.

Too late to worry about it any longer, she was at the door talking to Daniel. Lee strode down the hall trying to appear confident. He put a smile on his freshly shaved face and greeted his guest in the foyer.

“Come in, Lana. You look radiant. That color looks wonderful on you.”

“Thank you.”

“Please come into the living room and let me get you a drink. Would you like a glass of wine?”

“No thanks. I don’t drink wine. It gives me migraines. Vodka and grapefruit if you have it.”

“I’m sure we do.” Lee crossed the elegant room to the bar in the corner and made Lana’s drink. He poured bourbon over ice for himself, brought the drinks back and handed Lana’s to her with a cocktail napkin. “I hope it’s not too strong.”

“People make drinks differently, and you have to allow for that,” she said. “It’s always a surprise.”

“Unless you drink beer,” said Lee, “then it’s always the same.”

“Do you drink beer?”

“Always when Tommy is staying with me. Or my brother, Ted. He’s a beer drinker too.”

“Who’s the Tommy person you’re referring to?”

“Marshal Donovan. He often serves as my personal bodyguard, and we’ve spent a lot of time together. When I was vice president, Tommy and his son lived with me on Observatory Circle.”

“I know who he is,” said Lana. “He came to Langley a couple of times to talk to Ben. Long blond hair and he’s very young.”

“Twenty-five now and Lincoln is two. I’ll show you his picture.”

Lee scrolled through his phone and pulled up the picture of Linc on his second birthday.

“He’s adorable. Does the baby have native heritage?”

“His mother, Sundance was Comanche. A beautiful girl and so full of life. She lived with me for a period of time with Tommy before the baby was born.” Lee dabbed at his eyes with his napkin. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk about Sundance. This always happens. She died in childbirth the day Lincoln was born, and we had Lincoln with us from that day forward.”

“What a tragedy for all of you. And Tommy raises the child on his own?”

“With the help of a nanny, he manages, but it’s been difficult for him.”

“Of course it would’ve been.”

Lee held up a hand. “Enough of my family. Let’s talk about you. You are now officially the head of the CIA.”

“Ooh,” Lana squealed, and she was so excited, she jumped up off the sofa, threw herself on Lee’s lap and kissed him. With her arms still around his neck, she apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

I definitely wanted to do that.

But she didn’t move and neither did Lee. She kissed him again, this time with more heat and gave him her tongue.

When she broke away to take a breath, Lee smiled and said, “I’m pleased to see you’re happy with my decision.”

“I am happy, and I wanted to share that with you.”

“Thank you for sharing, Lana.”

Lana got up to move back to the sofa and Lee pulled her back down. “Don’t go. I like you right where you are.”

During dinner, Lana told him about Ben coming to Langley to talk to her. “He asked me to plead his case with you and I wondered about using the wealth of knowledge he has in his head to our advantage.” Lana explained her idea about keeping Ben around during her transition period. “It would help me a lot with all the things Ben was working on when he left and also get him used to leaving the Agency…gradually. You could provide him with a final retirement date if you decided it was a workable idea.”

“He is terribly upset,” said Lee. “He came to my office as well and asked for his job back. Let me think about your suggestion.”

“Sure. I’m not trying to influence you, sir. Just saying Ben’s head is full of classified information that we need to access. A lot of things aren’t recorded anywhere and sensitive material dropping through the cracks is not an option I like to think about.”

“At least an extensive debriefing is in order.”

“Yes. That’s what I’m thinking, sir.”

“I agree with your assessment, Lana, and you can’t continue to call me sir. Call me Lee. Please.”

Lee wondered what things weren’t recorded and were only in Ben Vipond’s head. Lana could be right about accessing that information before Ben was gone for good.

They continued to talk over coffee and dessert. Emily’s chocolate mousse was to die for, and Lana complimented the chef on the wonderful meal.

“If this is the food they serve you every day, it’s a wonder you’re not a hundred pounds overweight.”

Lee laughed. “I started to put on weight, but when I had my little heart incident, my cardiologist put me on a heart-smart diet. They won’t let me get fat.”

Lana reached across the table and put her hand over Lee’s. “I’ve enjoyed our dinner, Lee. Fun and relaxing.”

“Are you seeing anyone, Lana?”

“No. I rarely have an evening free. Now with the new responsibilities coming my way, I’ll have even less time to fritter away on dead-end dates.” She laughed.

Lee was totally in the Stoner zone by the time she was ready to leave the residence. “Can we see each other, Lana? It would have to be discrete and mostly here, but I enjoy your company so much. Could you make time for me?”

“I wasn’t expecting a personal relationship, Lee, but I’m not against it either. Why would I be? We’re both single adults. If you want to take a chance on me, and give it a try, then let’s do it.”

Lee grinned. “Thank you, Lana. You made me a happy man, and that’s new and exciting for me. May I call you tomorrow?”

“Call or text. I’m open to either.”

“Thank you. I’ll have Agent Black walk you to your car.”

San Jose. Costa Rica.

We spent the day driving north and watching for Colombian soldiers following us, but there were none. Not time yet to let our guard down. That would get us killed for sure.

As we drove into the capital city of Costa Rica, Thorne picked the first decent hotel he came to and pulled up to the front entrance.

Six big guys in the Super Duty cab with all of our gear was crushing. We had to get out and stretch our legs. We definitely needed another vehicle, and I’d take care of it as soon as I got the chance.

At the reservation desk, I paid for three rooms and that let us spread out. Lukas would bunk in with me and I could make my phone calls freely with him in the room. I couldn’t share classified information with everybody. Wasn’t how it worked.

Kamps was my first call, and he wanted to know where we were. “We’re in San Jose in a hotel and it seems safe enough for now.”

“Great. There’s no talk of Colombian soldiers in Costa Rica, but don’t let your guard down.”

“Nope. Can’t do that.”

“Are you ready to talk about the target in Nicaragua?” asked Kamps.

“Okay, let’s talk about him. How important is he?”

“Manuel Morales is the righthand man of the current president of Nicaragua. He’s the enforcer and the guy in charge of torturing and killing anybody who opposes or speaks out against the government now in power. He’s near the top of the ever-changing list.”

“Sounds like a creep.”

“Nailed it in one.”

“Got an exact location for him?”

“He’s in Managua and according to my map, y’all have to pass through that city. It’s on the main highway that takes you to Mexico.”

“Okay. He’s not out in the jungle someplace?”

“He’s got a street address and everything, Tommy. He might not even have trees.”

“Funny guy. Is it a recent address?”

“Newest one I could find.”

“I’m not sure when we’ll be there. Probably tomorrow or the next day. We gotta get another vehicle first. Six brawny brutes in a pickup driving all the way through Central America is too much for one truck.”

“That bad?”

“It’s hot, sweaty and smells like ass.”

Chapter Eleven

Saturday, November 23rd.

San Jose. Costa Rica.

Our hotel was high end enough to offer a free breakfast. Not a lot of choices, but coffee, bagels, muffins, a bit of fruit and an assortment of cereal.

After drinking two more coffees with the crew, Lukas and I headed out in the cruiser to find us a second vehicle. A couple of used car lots weren’t too far from our hotel and Lukas spotted a big black GMC Sierra with a crew cab.

“Doesn’t look too badly worn. Let’s see if we can make a deal for that baby.”

“Sure.”

He drove up to the office and a salesman came strolling out. He spoke Spanish and Lukas didn’t, so I did the talking. Lukas started it up and listened to the engine. Figured it was what we needed, and I bought us a truck. Nice and solid and not too many miles on it for five years old.

A dandy backup vehicle that we badly needed. Too much muscle for all of us to squeeze into the Chief’s pickup again.

When we got back to the hotel, we had a meeting in Nick’s room and talked over our options. “We can stay put for a couple of days and remain hidden, or we can move on. I have a job in Nicaragua when we get there, and we can do it or not. Decide when we get there and do some recon.”

“Is this another classified target?” asked Nick.

“For now, yes.”

Aaron stretched, unphased by most things. “We have the whole day ahead of us, so we might as well drive on.”

“Any other votes?”

No one gave a shit, either way.

“Good enough. We’re packing up and moving on. Wipe the rooms and double-check your gear. You know the drill.”

“Copy that.”

Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange. Texas.

Annie was about to go for her morning run when Mateo called from Panama. She closed the door of her room, sat on the sofa in the lounge area and tucked her feet up underneath her.

His voice was like velvet, warm and deep. Dangerous. “Mi amor. It is time.”

She knew what he meant. She just wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it. “Mornin’, sugar pop. Time for what?”

“Don’t play games, cariño.” His tone softened, but the intent was firm. “We’ve been smoldering too long. It’s time to burn.”

Annie exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “That was a long time ago.”

“You still love me.” Not a question. A fact.

She smiled despite herself. “Mateo, sweetness, I will always love you.”

“Then, no more waiting. I’m handing the club to Emilio this week. Lorenzo would have approved.”

At the mention of her deceased husband, something twisted in her chest. Lorenzo had built the Diamontes from nothing. Mateo had run it in his friend’s honor. And now, after all these years, he was finally coming back to her.

“He’ll make a solid replacement,” she said, steadying herself. “What exactly are your plans?”

“I’m done waiting, Annie. If I wait, there will always be something holding me back. I’ve let it happen too many times. I’m coming tomorrow.”

Her stomach flipped. Tomorrow.

She felt like a schoolgirl sneaking out to meet a lover, but she wasn’t a schoolgirl, and Mateo wasn’t just some lover. He was the man she’d spent years waiting for. The one she thought she’d never have again.

“Come, then,” she said, her voice steady. “I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“I will see you tomorrow, mi cielo.”

The line went dead. Annie sat there, staring at her phone.

Her mind drifted to Tommy.

How’s he going to take this?

She loved Tommy. Nothing would change that. But they weren’t married anymore. And Mateo—he’d always said he’d come back for her.

And now he had.

She exhaled slowly.

I married Tommy while I still loved Mateo.

This is just the other side of the same coin.

She could love one man and still hold another in her heart.

I’ve done it all my life.

Oval Office. West Wing. D.C.

Smiling and greeting everyone he met in the corridor, Lee zipped into the Oval Office in a happy mood. Bethany, his appointment secretary, and Tara, his aide, both noticed the change in the president and rolled their eyes.

Sitting behind the big desk, before any appointments arrived, Lee texted Lana.

“I’m horrible at texting.” Feeling like an inept teenager, Lee laughed at himself.

“Wonderful dinner. Can’t wait to see you again.”

“Cling on phase. Ha ha.”

“Is that a thing? If it is, I’m there.”

“You are so fucking cute.”

Lee chuckled as he put the phone down. Curses rolled out of Lana Stoner as easily as they rolled out of Tommy and Lee found it oddly comforting.

Sentence enhancers, Lana called them.

Before digging into the pile of documents Yvonne had carefully prioritized with color-coded tags, Lee had to give some thought to keeping Vipond for three months as a transition period for Lana.

Lana is correct about Vipond having information in his head that could be invaluable. Sensitive material that needed to be explored or acted upon.

The decision seemed simple now.

Vipond picked up on the first ring.

“Mister President.”

“Hi, Ben. Come to my office around three. I’ll tell Beth that we’re wedging you in.”

“Wedging, sir?”

“There is no open time. Never is, I’m afraid.”

Ben couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. “I’ll be there at three. Thank you, sir.”

“You should thank Director Stoner.”

NSA Headquarters. Fort Meade. Maryland.

Dunnett grinned at the early morning chatter the pit was replaying for him. He immediately called his grandson in Texas.

“Morning, Granddad. These ‘coffee calls’ are becoming a habit between us.”

Director Dunnett chuckled. “I wouldn’t complain if we made it a regular thing, son.”

“It would save me planning to call you every day. I intended to call you later to see if you’d heard anything, but this is perfect timing.”

Dunnett grinned. He loved his grandson. “Then you drink your coffee while I ramble for a minute. The pit played me the latest chatter from Bogota this morning, and it’s in Tommy’s favor, son. They are saying they’ve lost the assassins, and the Russians are furious.”

“Finally, some fantastic news. Am I clear to pass this on to Tommy?”

“Go ahead, although I wouldn’t tell him he’s home free. Both the Colombians and the Russians will have feelers out in Central America. The Colombians wouldn’t dare give up the chase because they know the Russians won’t.”

“Makes sense,” Blacky replied. “They’ll still be listening and hoping to pick up a thread.”

“Please stress to the young Marshal that constant vigilance is of the utmost importance until he is safely back in Texas.”

“I’ll emphasize that point, Granddad.”

Oval Office. West Wing. D.C.

Yvonne entered the Oval Office with her briefcase tucked under her arm and immediately sensed something going on with the president. His hair was freshly cut, and he was wearing a cologne she didn’t recognize. This new one had a soft sandalwood scent. Much nicer scent than the last mistake he’d been polluting the air with.

“Do you have an appointment out of the office today, Lee?”

“No. Why do you ask?”

Yvonne shrugged. “You seem different somehow. A little more… I can’t put my finger on it.”

Lee smiled and went back to work.

Yvonne’s presence in his office made him a little tense, but it was none of her business if he saw someone romantically. Nobody’s business but his own.

I don’t want anybody to find out about Lana and she doesn’t want that either. Our relationship will be just between us.

He was alone when Ben Vipond arrived, and Bethany squeezed him in between a senator and the minister of education.

“Fifteen minutes, sir.”

“Thanks, Beth. This won’t take long. Have a seat, Ben.”

Saying nothing, Ben Vipond sat and waited for the president to speak first.

“Ben, Director Stoner spoke to me on your behalf and she’s of the opinion that you have much left to contribute to the Agency.”

“I do.”

“Working on that premise, I’m prepared to offer you a three-month transition period where you will work exclusively with Director Stoner while you ease into your retirement.”

“Three months?”

“At the end of the first three months I’ll receive an evaluation from Director Stoner, and we’ll go from there. Nothing is carved in stone at this point. Is that satisfactory to you, Ben?”

“Yes, sir. I’m happy to serve in whatever capacity you wish.”

“Thanks, Ben. You can thank Lana for this second chance.”

“I will thank her, sir.”

Ben left the Oval Office and Lee leaned back in his leather chair feeling the day was going exceptionally well.

I guess I didn’t realize how badly I needed a woman in my life.

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

Lana Stoner sat at her desk thinking she should’ve taken the day off, but with the workload so heavy until a new deputy director was appointed, she couldn’t afford to.

On Monday she’d interview her top three picks for the open position. Once one of the agents was sanctioned by the president, she could share a lot of the work.

With a long list of questions jotted down on a legal pad—questions only Ben could answer—she was startled when he showed up on her phone.

“I just came from the Oval Office, and I called to thank you, Stoner. When do you want me to start work?”

Lana was taken aback. She was surprised Lee agreed to the suggested arrangement. “Umm…how about Monday morning? I’ll have things sorted out by then, and you can help me with everything I’m stuck on.”

“Sure. Thanks again, Lana. I don’t know how you changed his mind about me, but I have a pretty good idea.”

They both laughed.

“Don’t let your imagination run wild, Ben. See you on Monday.”

She ended the call and glanced around the large office looking for the perfect spot to squeeze in another desk. Ben should be in the Director’s office and not somewhere on his own where he might be making decisions she knew nothing about.

She called building maintenance and arranged for the desk for Ben. As she disconnected from maintenance, Lee called and invited her to dinner the following day. “Don’t wait until dinner time, Lana. Come in the afternoon so we have extra time to spend together. I want to get to know you a lot better.”

Lana grinned. She knew she had him hooked.

Best catch ever.

“I can do that, but I do have personal things to attend to earlier in the day, like laundry and mundane jobs like that.”

“I’m grateful for any time you can give me.”

Don’t be needy, Lee. That’s a definite turn-off.

“I’ll see what I can do. I talked to Ben, and he is starting on Monday morning. I also plan to interview my three possible replacements on Monday.  I’ll send you my evaluation when that’s been done.”

“Appreciate you grabbing the reins, Lana. Looking forward to tomorrow.”

“Me too.”

She ran through her post-call analysis, as always.

Was she excited about seeing Lee Armstrong, the man, or possibly dating the most powerful man in the free world? They were one and the same, she knew, but one had more significant connotations and was more in line with her life purpose.

Lana had slept with many men, both for fun and to advance her career, but she found herself wondering what the president would be like in bed.

She had slept with duds before and would do so again if it landed her the ultimate catch, but she just enjoyed a good lay so much.

She typed his name into the computer and the official bio was all that came up. “Of course this is all I’m going to get. He’s protected in every way possible.”

But that narrow glimpse was enough to give her the name of Lee’s first wife—the one who didn’t make it to the White House.

She probably regrets dumping him too soon.

“Amelia. Let me see what you look like, babe.”

Her picture came up, and Lana studied it. “Kind of pretty but leaning toward eighties hair. You have a tight body, so you probably did Jazzercise. I’m guessing a dead fuck. Final rating—frigid bitch.”

Lana laughed. “I am fuckin’ hysterical.”

She went back to work.

Costa Rica/Nicaragua Border.

The policia’s Ford Super Duty was a comfortable ride for the entire two hundred and fifty miles to the border. Aaron drove, and Cage rode shotgun, with Nick and Thorne in the back. Way better than squishing in six. It even had air conditioning.

Our Sierra was comfy, too. We drove with the windows down and the music playing. If we weren’t on the run from the Colombians and Russians, we woulda been havin’ ourselves a time.

We all got to the border together as the sun was going down.

Trying hard to look like we weren’t traveling together, Lukas lined up to go through the checkpoint and Aaron dropped back three vehicles in the line to cross after us.

A bit of a wait at the crossing and when it was our turn to go through, it was full dark.

Lukas handed the guard our paperwork and he stared at our passports and then back at us. He reached for his phone, and I held my breath, then one of the other guards hollered something to him and he became distracted and waved us through.

Lukas blew out a breath, stepped on the gas and crossed into Nicaragua. He pulled over and we waited at the side of the road for the Creed boys to catch up.

Because they were driving the Chief’s vehicle, they were waved right through.

We shoulda taken that truck. Damn it.

San Canas. Nicaragua.

After making it across the border without too much trouble, we changed drivers and kept going.

Following the highway that would ultimately take us to Mexico and home, we stopped at a motel about twenty miles outside of Managua.

The rooms were clean and once we settled in, we walked down the road looking for beer and a decent place to eat.

Loud music drifted out of a roadhouse not far from our motel and we walked in to check it out. Dimly lit, they had a live band on a stage in the corner of the dance hall section. Lots of tables on the restaurant side were empty, and they had a full menu.

Locals were dancing and having fun and the place reminded me of Boots and of Annie. I had a lot on my mind the rest of the boys knew nothing about, and I couldn’t talk about it. Not even to Lukas.

A heartbreaking situation for me, but the time had come. Mateo and I had the little guy talk before I left Annie’s house in Boquete. A private talk between the two of us. I had to give Annie up to Mateo and make a life of my own. I loved her so much I had to make sure it happened without a fuss. She’d suffered enough already because of me and our relationship.

Above all, I wanted Annie and Mateo to be happy, and I wouldn’t let Blacky and Farrell interfere like they did with us. I owed it to Mateo after all he’d done for me and my crew, and I was pretty sure I could handle it.

I have to handle it.

With the weight of it on my mind, I stepped outside, stood next to the roadhouse and called Annie.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you in a safe place?”

“Safe for tonight, babe. Have you been talking to Mateo?”

“Yes, he called. He mentioned that he talked to you, sugar. He’s retiring, passing the club to Emilio and he’s coming home, Tommy.”

“He told me he was finally retiring and I’m good with it, babe. He saved my life many times over and he loves you. He’s waited half his life to be with you and I want him –I want both of you to be happy. I have a lot of work to do on my own family and I’m no good for you right now. Mateo is the one who will take care of you.”

“You’re always good for me, Tommy. That will never change for either one of us.”

“I love you, Annie.”

“Same.”

Chapter Twelve

Sunday, November 24th.

San Canas. Nicaragua.

Before Lukas was awake, I made a cup of coffee in our room, went outside, leaned on the wall of the motel, lit up a smoke and called Kamps.

“Any news from Nicaragua, Kamps?”

“Haven’t heard a thing from there. I think y’all are good for now. How close are y’all to Managua?”

“About twenty miles and we’ll be going there and doing recon later today. See what we’re up against before we make a plan.”

“Sure. There’s no rush. Take your time and let the dust settle. The talk about the assassination dies down a little more each day. And don’t worry, the minute I do hear something, I’ll call right away and warn you.”

“Thanks, bro. You’re my lifeline. You been talking to Yvonne?”

“Check in with Roy every morning to see what’s going on in D.C. and he gives me the lowdown on what she’s eating, how she’s feeling, and the baby checkups. All of that. I don’t need to talk to Yvonne personally to learn all the details. Roy knows all of it. Better that way for me.”

I went back inside and made another coffee. Barely daylight and the guys had no reason to get up this early. I sat at the table, drank my coffee and thought about Annie and Mateo being back together.

I had to deal with it because it was always there. Not a secret. Annie made it clear from the beginning—someday Mateo would come to Texas to stay. They would run the ranch together. Cut and dried. Written in fuckin’ stone.

A prior commitment. Whatever the fuck that meant to two people crazy in love with each other.

When the crew was up and dressed, we left the motel and hit the road. We gassed up both vehicles before leaving town and stopped at a diner for breakfast.

I wasn’t saying much and Lukas looked at me every few minutes wondering what was wrong with me. Couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t tell anybody. If I let it bother me too much, my head would start to ache, and I’d be fucked.

They’d all find out soon enough and a lot of people would be happy for Annie. Not a lot of them would be sad for me. Just the way it was. Let the fuckin’ chips fall.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, Lee worked all morning in his home office thinking about Lana coming over to spend the afternoon and staying for dinner.

“This isn’t a fun place for a date, but we could go out into the rose garden and walk around. I’d like to take her somewhere spectacular but all the chaos that would cause wouldn’t be worth it.”

Guinness World Record as the most stressful date ever.

There are a lot of drawbacks to this job.

Austin-Bergstrom Airport. Texas.

Driving her truck up route seventy-one into the city, Annie couldn’t believe it was finally happening. Mateo was coming home to stay.

Years he’d dedicated himself to the club and to helping the people of Panama less fortunate than himself and he couldn’t seem to give it up to have a life of his own. He’d come back to Texas a few times since Lorenzo died but could never put roots down.

Annie wondered what had changed for him so suddenly. She didn’t care what had happened, only that he was coming home to her after all this time.

Tommy would be sad for a time, but he was young and resilient, and he knew the rules all along. Annie belonged to Mateo, but they couldn’t be together because of his responsibilities to the Diamontes.

Her heart pounding, she parked the truck and ran inside to the arrivals’ lounge to wait for him.

Mateo came through the doors pushing a luggage cart loaded down with bags and Annie started to cry. He’d brought everything so that meant he really was staying this time.

He held her in his arms and kissed her and didn’t let her go. The other passengers divided and went around them, and they never moved.

Parting of the Red Sea of passengers.

Holding hands, they walked to the truck and Mateo loaded his baggage into the back of the Gladiator.

“Shall we stop for a drink on the way home to celebrate?” asked Annie.

“No. We go to the ranch and celebrate there, mi amor. We have much to be happy about, but it is our own private happiness we celebrate.”

“That’s true,” she said, smiling, and let the past slip through her fingers.

Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.

Annie and Mateo arrived at the ranch, dust curling up behind the truck as she pulled into the long gravel drive. Before the engine even cut, Mateo was already out, stretching like a man shaking off years of old ghosts. The first thing he did after unloading his luggage was stroll to the barn to talk to the cowboys.

The reunion was rowdy, full of backslaps and laughter. The boys who had worked Annie’s ranch for years had always liked Mateo—respected him, even. It was good to have him back.

While they were in the barn, Annie and Mateo saddled up their horses for a ride down to the river. Mateo hadn’t seen his horse, Rayo, in years and damn near choked up while hugging the big Appaloosa’s neck.

“Mi viejo amigo,” he muttered, running a hand along Rayo’s mane.

Annie watched him, her stomach twisting. Mateo’s homecoming had been emotional for everyone, especially her. The fight to leave the club in Panama—leaving the Diamontes in other hands—had nearly torn him in half. He and Lorenzo had built that empire from blood and dust. Letting it go wasn’t easy.

They rode down the back lane to the river, hooves kicking up the scent of dry earth and summer grass. When they reached the bank, they dismounted, letting the horses graze as they sat down on a sun-warmed boulder. The river glistened in the fading light, the soft rush of water filling the silence between them.

Mateo let out a breath. “So. Tommy.”

Annie swallowed. She knew this was coming.

“Tommy will understand,” she said, picking at the edge of her jeans. “At least, I hope he will.” She stared out at the water, voice quieter now. “But you don’t just stop loving someone, Mateo. You know that.”

Mateo rubbed his jaw, his gaze steady. “No, you don’t. And neither does he.” He paused, watching the river. “I just hope he lets you go.”

She let out a breath, slow and measured. “He has his own life now. A house, the kids. It’s different.”

Mateo nodded, but something flickered in his expression. A shadow.

“Si. El precio de la felicidad es alto, corazon mio. Sometimes, I wonder who might come collecting.”

Annie turned to him, her gray eyes sharp. “Are you saying someone’s coming after you?”

Mateo smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No one important.” He reached over, brushing a strand of hair from her face before kissing her, slow and deep.

Annie kissed him back, but in the back of her mind, a question lingered.

Was Mateo really free? Or was something still pulling him back?

Las Colinas. Managua. Nicaragua.

Thorne followed the GPS directions through the city and slowed down when we reached our destination. The house where Manuel Morales was reportedly living was in an upscale neighborhood called Las Colinas.

We didn’t have to go through the gate to see the Morales residence. It was in full view from the road leading to the gated community and if we used the gate it would raise too many questions.

The sprawling mansion was built on a couple of acres backing onto a golf course. Professional landscaping and a fountain on the front lawn, the view of the mountains in the distance was breathtaking.

“This guy knows how to live,” said Cage. “He’s got the big bucks.”

“Gorgeous here,” I said. “Hope he enjoys his last fuckin’ day.”

“The guard at the gate might be a problem tonight,” said Nick.

“Let’s see if there’s a way in through the golf course,” said Lukas. “We can come in the back way and avoid the guardhouse altogether.”

“Yeah, find us the entrance to the golf course, Thorne. We’ll rent some clubs and play a round.”

Thorne grinned. “I always wanted to play golf. Chicks dig golfers. All athletic with a great tan, a designer line of clothes and tons of money.”

“I don’t know how to play.”

“You can drive the cart, Tommy.”

“We’ll rent two carts and some clubs,” said Nick. “We don’t want to arouse suspicion looking like jerks.”

In the clubhouse, we drew a few stares, but the guy on the front desk was nice and spoke both English and Spanish. I spoke Spanish to him and that helped break the ice.

I rented clubs and two carts and bought a box of balls and a package of tees, and we were ready to go.

On the first hole, Thorne teed up his ball and gave it a whack, and because of his brute strength, that thing sailed for half a fuckin’ mile.

“Can’t even see where that puppy landed,” said Cage. “Got to be right near the fuckin’ hole.”

Only two of us were actually golfing, so Cage went next. He’d been a few times with Neil to the club in Arlington where a lot of the Rangers played. He knew what he was doing more than the rest of us.

He whacked his ball way down the fairway, and we jumped into the carts, yelled out a couple of yahoos and went to find the balls.

After half an hour of fake golfing, we came to the place where the course ran along the back of the houses in the gated community.

Nick took pictures and mapped out the quickest route for us to follow when we came back later that night. “The golf course will have night security, and we’ll have to watch for them.”

“Yep. Coming in this way will avoid the guardhouse situation and keep us from being seen on the street. Good call, Nick.”

He grinned. “Nice to be appreciated for my brain and not just my body.”

We laughed as we ran back to the parking lot.

Rose Garden. White House. D.C.

Daniel showed Lana into the sitting room where Lee was waiting for her. Her arrival had already been announced and the president’s heart picked up speed just knowing she was in the building.

Walking towards her as she entered the room, Lee held out his arms and Lana melted into him with a hot passionate kiss.

Locked in each other’s arms, Lee did not want to give her up so soon, but he was always the gentlemen and didn’t want to overstep the bounds of respectful dating—whatever they happened to be.

Lee was mildly out of breath. “I’m so happy you’re here, Lana.”

Lana purred as she spoke in her husky voice that men loved. “I can tell.”

Lee had never been comfortable with overt sexuality and stepped back. “Can I get you a drink? Hot or cold, we probably have anything you wish.”

Lana grinned, noticing Lee’s discomfort.

I can use that to my advantage.

“I’m sure the White House larder is well-stocked, Lee, but I don’t need anything at present. Just a moment to unwind from the horrendous traffic snarling through the city.”

“Didn’t your driver bring you?”

“She did, but I’m not long on patience, and seeing the chaos she was dealing with bothered me. I hope when we move to Mars, there are no cars.”

Lee chuckled. “Sit down and relax. I thought we could veg in here where it’s not so formal. Some of the antique furniture that comes with the house isn’t all that comfortable.”

Lana smiled. “More the stiff historic variety.”

“When you tire of listening to me—which won’t take too long,” Lee laughed, “I thought we might take a walk through the rose garden. The rose bushes aren’t in bloom this time of year, but it’s refreshing out there.”

“I’d love to do that.”

“Did you finish all of your chores?” asked Lee.

“Two loads of laundry. I was out of underwear and would’ve been forced to roll into Langley commando to head up the CIA tomorrow.”

Lee laughed. “No one would know.”

“I’d know and at the Monday morning briefing, I’d probably act crazy and do some hysterical laughing.”

Still chuckling, Lee pulled her closer to him and kissed her.

“Should we close the door?” asked Lana in a whisper.

“Definitely.”

“Does it lock?”

Lee grinned. “I don’t know. I’ve never been locked in the sitting room.”

Lana clicked her tongue. “Your first time fooling around in a White House sitting room, Mister President? How quaint.” She sauntered to the door and turned the lock with a decisive click. “Well, sir, consider your education officially underway.”

An hour later they took a break from fooling around on the sitting room sofa, straightened their clothes, unlocked the door and headed outside for a stroll.

“Whew,” said Lana. “You wore me out in there. I’ve got to get my second wind.”

“I think you got that backwards,” said Lee. “Your stamina level far outdistances mine. I’ve got to get back to daily workouts at the gym.”

“Do you have a home gym here?”

“Yes.”

“We could work out together and get all hot and sweaty. What a turn-on that would be.”

Lee was hyped by Lana’s sexual hunger but at the same time nervous he couldn’t keep up. “We could work out if you wanted to, Lana. I’m not sure what you like to do for fun, but I’m keen to find out.”

“I’m a simple person, Lee. Work, booze and sex. That’s about all I need to get through the day.” She shoved Lee up against the wall in the hallway and stuck her tongue in the president’s mouth.

When Lana released him, Lee inhaled a couple of breaths. “We might need jackets.”

Lana winked at him. “Not for me. I need to cool off.”

Lee laughed. “There’s that.”

Walking the length of the Colonnade, they took the path leading into the rose garden and Lana shivered. “It’s cooler than I thought out here, babe.”

“Please, take my jacket.”

She wrapped her arm around Lee and pressed against him. “I’ll just cuddle closer. I like it out here. Nice and private.”

A voice called out from the front gates. Camera flashes flickered through the hedges.

Lee groaned. “Dammit. Press vultures.”

Lana grinned, amused. “You afraid of a little scandal, Mr. President?”

“I’d rather not see CIA Director seduces leader of the free world on tomorrow’s front page.”

Lana exhaled dramatically. “What a shame. I’d make an excellent femme fatale.” She turned toward the press, lifting her hand as if to wave.

Lee grabbed her wrist. “Don’t you dare.”

She smirked. “Guess we’d better take this inside, then.”

“So much for our relaxing stroll around the grounds. Sorry about that.”

“Goddammit, don’t they give you a moment’s peace? I’d shoot the fuckers if I lived here.”

Laughing, Lee took Lana’s arm and steered her towards the closest door.

Drinks were next and another scrumptious dinner followed. No one harassed them in the dining room and they both relaxed.

Over coffee, Lee asked Lana if she could stay the night.

“Umm…I have a heavy day tomorrow. Let’s make it another night when Ben isn’t going to be in my office at the crack of dawn. Are you very disappointed?”

Lana leaned close to Lee’s sad face and ran her finger over his mouth. She whispered, “I’d love to see the Lincoln bedroom before I go home.”

Big smile from Lee. “I’d be delighted to show it to you.”

Lana winked at him. “I bet you would.”

Boots & Saddles Roadhouse. Giddings.

The neon sign flickered above Boots & Saddles, bathing the parking lot in a soft red light. The sound of the band spilled out the doors, inviting the never-ending flow of patrons.

Mateo drove Annie to the roadhouse for her shift. She stayed late and closed the bar most nights.

Annie slid out of the truck, throwing Mateo a look over her shoulder. “You don’t have to wait for me, sugar. I won’t be finished ‘til after two.”

Mateo smirked, leaning back against the driver’s side door. “I want to watch you work, mi amor. I’ve waited a long time for this privilege.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the grin pulling at her lips. “And I’ve waited just as long to have you sitting at my bar.” A beat passed. Her voice softened. “I love you, Mateo.”

His dark eyes flickered. “Yet, you worry for Tommy.” It wasn’t a question.

Annie let out a slow breath, watching as a pair of bikers shouldered their way inside. “I’ll worry ‘til he’s home. Then no more.”

Mateo nodded, but something hard passed over his face. “Si.”

Annie felt it too—that unspoken thing between them. A past that still had one foot in the present. A future with one string still tied to another man.

She pulled open the door and let the music swallow her whole.

Morales Residence. Managua. Nicaragua.

After midnight, we packed up our gear and wiped our rooms down. We weren’t coming back here again. After the op, we’d keep going and put some distance between us and Morales, the Prince of Torture, as he was known in lofty circles.

Lukas drove the pickup, and Thorne drove the Chief’s Super Duty. He loved it didn’t shut up about it. “I’ve heard night golf is a hoot,” said Thorne.

Cage laughed. “Never heard that. How do you find your fuckin’ ball after you hit it?”

“Night gear.”

“Huh,” said Aaron. “Might take all night to play nine holes.”

“Chain across the parking lot entrance,” said Lukas.

“I’ll cut it. Let me get the bolt cutters out of the back.”

Lukas stopped and I hopped out. Thorne pulled in behind me and waited until the job was done. Nick scanned for security guards.

“Any guards on patrol?” I asked.

“Not yet. But let’s not give them a reason to take a midnight stroll.”

I took off first, running across the first hole’s tee box, my head on a swivel. The course sloped down, sprawling out toward the houses. No guards. No flashlights sweeping the grass. Just the smell of damp earth and the faint, distant hum of traffic.

Perfect.

Zeroing in on a couple of things I had picked out at Morales’ place for markers, I climbed the fence and picked the lock on the back door.

Listened for a dog barking and there was no dog.

Bonus.

Only silence inside. Everybody was asleep.

The crew would catch up and have my back when I came out, I wasn’t worried about that. My job was to find Morales and put him out of his goddamned misery. Be the last women he ever tortured. The last little kids he every kidnapped.

Master bedroom at the end of the hall.

Penlight in my hand, I could see Morales sleeping next to his young wife—or not his wife—no way of telling, but I had no interest in killing her.

My eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, and I shoved the light into my pocket.

Using my Beretta with the long suppressor on, I put one in Morales’ brain. One little pop and the girlfriend never even moved.

I was out of there, down the stairs, across the patio and in the golf cart in a matter of seconds. The golf cart waiting for me was a surprise, but it was a damned good time saver.

We were back at the parking lot in minutes and never saw a single security guard. Nick might have killed them or just got them out of my way—I didn’t care which.

We pulled out of the golf club parking lot and headed for the highway—all pre-programmed into the GPS.

Thorne laughed low in his throat. “That was almost too easy.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Nick muttered. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

“Copy that. I want to be far away from this city when we sleep.”

San Benito. Nicaragua.

Thorne and Lukas had talked it over and they knew exactly where we were going. I sat in the passenger seat and closed my eyes until we were parked in front of the motel they had picked out.

Busy night. Job done.

Time to sleep.

Chapter Thirteen

Monday, November 25th.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Lee woke up slow. Real slow. He was pretty sure even his damn eyelids hurt.

With a groan, he ran a mental checklist of body parts currently staging a rebellion. Shoulders? Stiff. Lower back? Screaming. Legs? Might need to be amputated.

The sex was mind-blowing. But holy hell, I’m paying for it.

He sat up, groaning like an old man, and reached for his smokes—breaking the cardinal rule of his cardiologist. Again.

Lana made him feel like a bad boy. She had that effect.

Lee took a long, satisfied drag, savoring the feeling of being alive—and then, still feeling wild, free, and about ten years younger, he grabbed his phone and texted.

“I can barely walk. What the hell did you do to me?”

Lana’s reply came back instantly.

“Suck it up, cowboy. We’re just getting started.”

Lee snorted. Jesus.

He postponed the shower and pulled on workout sweats. No way in hell was he showing up looking like a broken man when Lana waltzed in for their gym session. He could already hear Tommy’s voice in his head: “Get a damn trainer, Lee. You’re the President, not a beer-league softball coach.”

Yeah. Probably should’ve done that months ago.

Lee sighed, stretched once (big mistake—everything hurt), and powered up the treadmill.

Thirty seconds later, he had a new problem: What the hell do I do if I die on this thing?

San Benito. Nicaragua.

At daylight, we dragged our asses out of bed, packed up our stuff and wiped down our rooms. I wanted to be out of this country before the body of Morales was discovered.

Lukas drove. I kept my eyes on the sideview mirror, checking for tails. So far, so good.

Thirty minutes in, Thorne picked out a greasy spoon with gas bowsers out front. Greasy eggs and burnt toast, but great coffee. No one bitched. Good enough.

“Still a helluva long way to Mexico. Longer still to Texas,” Cage muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” I replied, “but every mile between us and that corpse is a good one.”

Both vehicles filled with gas, we were on the road again heading north. While Lukas drove, I called Kamps and reported in. I put the call on speaker so Lukas could hear Kamps.

“Morning, Kamps. The Morales job is done and we’re on our way following the highway to Mexico.”

“Are you out of Nicaragua yet?”

Lukas shook his head and pointed at the GPS.

“No, but we’re heading for the border now.”

“Honduras will be next,” said Kamps. “If you want I can send you the details of the next guy to your phone.”

“Sure, send the stuff and I’ll look it over.”

“Stay safe, Tommy.”

“Sounds like we’re getting another job,” said Lukas. “You agree to that?”

“I said we’d take the jobs one at a time and do them if possible. If they’re close, the money is good. I didn’t commit to them because of our circumstances. Never know when we’ll have to run for it.”

“Yeah, I’m checking the mirrors for glue,” said Lukas, “but we’ve been lucky so far.”

Ellis was next on my list of calls, and I told her we were on our way home to Texas.

“Wonderful news, Tommy. Linc and Simka will be happy to see you.”

“I can’t wait to hug my babies. Have you seen Ricki?”

“Yes. She’s been here the past couple of days playing with the kids. She’s unhappy about something but she didn’t confide in me.”

“Maybe she had a fight with the guy she’s dating. I’ll call her. How’s Farrell doing?”

“He’s much better. He spends every night here with me and the kids.”

She didn’t mention the sofa.

“I’m glad you guys made up.”

“I am too, Tommy. Farrell is everything to me.”

Feeling better about the kids, and the Farrell and Ellis fight, I ended the call.

“You said you were going to call Ricki,” said Lukas. “Why don’t you do that?”

“Putting it off, I guess. She’s seeing some cowboy down the road from her ranch.”

Lukas shrugged. “Only because you’re never home. You can call her as a friend.”

“Yeah, I’ll do it when we stop.”

CIA Headquarters. Langley Virginia.

At five minutes to eight, Lana arrived at her office and Ben Vipond was waiting for her. He and Patty were drinking coffee together in the outer office.

“Morning, everyone. Come on, Ben. I had a desk put in the big office for you.”

“Thanks, Stoner.” He gave her a wide grin and showed off expensive dental work.

Ben sat in the swivel chair maintenance had given him and stared at the empty desk. “I’m not sure how this will work.”

“Me neither, but you have to make it work if you want to stay.”

“Yeah, sure. It’s on me, Stoner. It will work. I’m not hard to get along with. You know me better than anybody in this building.”

“True dat, Benny-boy.” Lana poured herself a coffee from the tray on the sideboard and sat down at her own desk—Ben’s desk. “Monday morning staff meeting, Ben. I’ll tell everybody what’s going on with you so the rumor mill can shut down.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem. I want this little hook-up to get off on the right foot.”

“Will I be included in staff meetings or am I more like a visitor?”

“You’re a consultant so you’re not staff anymore. I’m sorry if that irks you, but that’s the way it is.”

“I’m happy I have a job, so I’ll live with it.”

“Good.” Lana booted up her computer. “I have interviews for the deputy job after the staff meeting, so it will be a busy morning.”

“Who have you picked for your deputy?” asked Ben.

“My top three are Cantwell, Tizzard and Sterling.”

Ben nodded. “I’d pick Logan Sterling. He’s got it all going for him.”

“I agree.”

“What do you want me to start on?” asked Ben.

Lana crossed the room with a list in her hand. “These are the questions I have. Start on those and put them in a form of a report. I think that will be the best way. We’ll document all the information you supply in case Lee decides he wants to see what you’re contributing.”

“Got it. Then my worth will be down in black and white.”

“That’s what I’m thinking, Ben.”

“I agree. We’ll do it right.”

“Attaboy.”

Patty knocked, opened the door and carried in a huge bouquet from a florist, all wrapped up in cellophane and tied with a big blue bow. “Somebody likes you, boss.”

Lana giggled. “Not many people do. That’s a short list. Let me grab the card.”

Best Sunday in the history of the Lincoln bedroom.

Lana laughed and shoved the card into the pocket of her jacket.

“Is that an elaborate thank-you for the hot weekend from that prick, Kendall Rusk?” asked Ben.

“Nope. Try again.” Still smiling, Lana turned to Patty, “Would you take the cellophane off, Pats? I’ve got to get the staff meeting started. I’m already late.”

“Sure, boss.” The cellophane crackled as Patty unwrapped the bouquet. “These flowers smell heavenly.”

“I’ve only got time for a quick sniff.” Lana leaned over the bouquet, inhaled and then she ran out the door and down the hall to the boardroom.

While waiting for everyone to take their seats, Lana texted Lee.

“Beautiful flowers. You brightened my day.”

“You brighten my life.”

Lana smirked and pocketed the phone. Sap.

Inside, the staff was settling into their seats. She took her place at the head of the table and jumped right in.

“You may have noticed Ben Vipond come in this morning. He’ll be working with me for the next three months until I’m up and running before he officially retires.”

A few heads nodded around the table. Nobody asked any questions. Perfect.

Nicaragua/Honduras Border.

The line at the border was slow.

Greedy guards tried to extract bribes from every vehicle waiting to cross. Some of the travelers were more compliant than others, and the arguments from the non-compliant took up a lot of time.

When it was our turn, I was tired of sitting in a hot truck and because of my shitty mood over the Annie thing, I was ready to bash in a few heads.

Lukas could feel how worked up I was and shook his head. “A fight at the border will attract attention and we don’t want that. We’ll pay the bribe money and keep going.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re right, bro. We don’t want anybody pointing at us.”

The guard yelled in the driver’s window at Lukas and cursed at him in Spanish. Lukas didn’t know what the asshole was saying, but I did, and it was some gross stuff.

I couldn’t hold onto it any longer and I cursed back at him and hollered stuff at him like that border guard had never heard in his fuckin’ life.

He stood stunned.

When I was done, I handed him five hundred American, and as he stared, I peeled off two hundred more and said, ‘sorry’.

He pocketed the cash and waved us through.

Lukas gave me the cut-eye. “What the fuck was that? I thought you were avoiding conflict?”

I shrugged and blew smoke out the window. “Best of both worlds, bro. Blew off some steam and paid for the privilege. Win-win.”

Lukas snorted. “You’re so fuckin’ twisted.”

Jicaro Galan. Honduras.

We drove until late afternoon, then pulled into a dive bar with flashing neon and music so loud we heard it down the road. Our kinda place.

The heat hit like a sledgehammer as soon as I stepped out. Sweat trickled down my back before I hit the front door. Hot fuckin’ country.

A couple of pitchers of ice-cold beer cooled everyone off, but the job I laid out didn’t sit right with Nick. His face told me that he wasn’t buyin’ what I was sellin’ before he even opened his mouth.

“To get to the target, we have to turn north here in this town and drive up to the capital city. It’s about a hundred miles out of our way, so two hundred extra miles by the time we come back to the highway.”

“By the time we drive up there, do recon, do the job and come back another whole day will be gone,” said Nick. “I’m voting to pass on that one, Tommy. I got a call this morning and the security job I’ve been waiting on in Austin is ready to start. Sorry, but I can’t spare another day backing you up. I need to get back to Texas as quick as I can.”

I took a slow sip of beer, keeping my temper in check. “That right?”

“Yeah.” Nick wasn’t looking for a debate. “Count us out, Tommy.”

We all worked for the Blackmore Agency, so hearing this shit mid-op threw me. The Creed had my back—until now.

“Well, off y’all go, then.” I forced a grin I didn’t feel. “Me and Lukas will handle it.”

Lukas didn’t say a word, but his knuckles went white around his glass. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was: Nick was walking away from his own people, and the rest of the Creed looked none too happy about it. But Nick was their leader, and they followed orders.

The beer break ended in silence.

In the parking lot, we watched them pile into the Chief’s truck and drive off. Lukas stood there a long moment, jaw clenched.

“I can’t believe that fucker left us with no backup.”

“Blacky’s gonna be fuckin’ pissed, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Let him know now,” Lukas said, pulling onto the highway. “The Agency’s paying the Creed, and they just bailed. That job must be real important for Nick to cut and run.”

“More important than us.” I glanced at the road, the dust still hanging in the air from their tires. “The other guys didn’t look happy. But Nick made the call.”

“Fuck ‘em all.” Lukas yanked the wheel hard as he turned north toward the capital city of Honduras. No way in hell I could pronounce the name of it, let alone spell it.

While Lukas drove, I called Blacky.

“Hey, boss. Bit of a snafu. Nick and the Creed left us for some gig in Austin. Did you double book ‘em?”

“No fucking way, Tommy. I made sure their schedule was clear so they could support you for as long as it took. I’ll be talking to Nick right after this call.”

“Well, they’re gone.”

A long silence. Then: “I’ll be having a word with Nick.”

“Thanks, boss. We’re on our way to look for Javier Hernandez. We’ll get a hotel and do recon after dark. I’ll call and give you an update later.”

“Copy that.”

On the long drive I wanted to talk to Lukas about what was going on with Mateo and Annie and I couldn’t. This was a fact of life I had to deal with on my own.

Got to do it, but I don’t know if I’ve got it in me.

Hyatt Hotel. Tegucigalpa. Honduras.

Lukas picked out a great hotel for us in the capital city. I wasn’t short on cash and now there were only the two of us to worry about, we could splurge a little.

I checked us in, and the desk clerk gave me a key card for a suite on the fourth floor. Nice clean rooms with a view of the city. No idea what the food would be like in this country, but I had eaten so much shit in the past few weeks, I didn’t care much anymore.

Best part was they had a great bar just off the lobby and Lukas and I checked it out and knocked back half a dozen beers before we ordered dinner.

“Is the menu in Spanish?”

Lukas stared at it and nodded his head. “I’m trying to figure it out on my own.”

“Go for it.”

He was still studying the menu when I finished another beer. I ordered another round, and he gave up, closed the menu and pushed it away. “Order me a steak with mushrooms and some fried onions.”

“Mashed potatoes?”

“Sure.”

I grinned at my brother. As hard-headed as they came. It was a wonder he didn’t sit there and refuse to eat because he couldn’t order on his own.

Full dark after dinner when we cruised through the city looking for the address Kamps gave us for Javier Hernandez.

“Who is he, anyway?” asked Lukas.

“Kamps said he was the main drug and weapons supplier to the MS-13 in Honduras. Really bad dude and he’s on the most-wanted list.”

“Sounds like a worthwhile target. MS-13 are the scum of the fuckin’ earth.”

Lukas slowed down when we turned onto the street we were looking for. “Watch the numbers. Find three twenty-two.”

“I’m looking but if the numbers on the houses aren’t lit up, I’m not going to see it.”

Lukas turned around at the end of the street and I did a tight search of the other side and spotted it.

“That one right there.”

“Regular house. Hiding in plain sight and blending in. He probably has a security system, but it doesn’t look like it will be too hard. Might have a dog.”

“There’s a gate leading into the backyard. We can come in from the back.”

“Back is always better than the front,” said Lukas.

“Now that we know the way and have a handle on it, you want to do it now or come back?”

“We’ll do it later when the house is asleep. A lot easier that way.”

“Sure. We’ll come back.”

“We drove off slow, blending into the night, our next move already set in stone.

Chapter Fourteen

Tuesday, November 26th.

Hernandez Residence. Tegucigalpa, Honduras.

We slept for a couple of hours at our hotel and set our alarms to get up at midnight. Seemed to take less time to get to the target’s house the second time around.

We turned down the street and quickly noticed the red and blue flashing lights reflecting off every window. We edged along a little further but were waved away by police standing in front of a barricade.

“The cops are at his house, bro. Something big is going on. Maybe somebody did your job for you.”

“Hope so. Hernandez sounds like a piece of shit. Probably has lots of enemies.”

“Nothing we can do here without getting busted by the local cops,” said Lukas. “Best if no one sees us, Tommy. Let’s go back to our hotel.”

“Copy that.”

Hyatt Hotel. Tegucigalpa. Honduras.

With no job to do, we got back to our hotel around two in the morning and went back to bed. I was out like a light and slept like a rock until a guy reporting the news in Spanish woke me up.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Lukas never had the TV on early in the morning

“I’m watching the story about our guy, Hernandez, and I’m trying to figure out what the guy is saying. Translate for me, bro. I want to know what the fuck is going on.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m listening to the guy. Did you order coffee?”

“Yeah, coffee and breakfast. It should be here soon. What is the news guy saying? Is our target dead?”

“Nope. Hernandez ain’t dead but he’s in a panic. He called the cops because MS-13 kidnapped his wife and kids.”

“I thought he was the main supplier to the gang,” said Lukas. “Did he double cross the Mara?”

“Bad idea if he did,” I said. “They are the most dangerous gang out there. At home in Texas too. Those guys are fuckin’ maniacs.”

“He did something to piss them off,” said Lukas. “That’s for damned sure. His wife and kids are goners.”

“We can’t get near him to finish him off. The cops will be hanging out at his place waiting for a ransom call. Wonder if Kamps heard about it.”

“Call him from the truck,” said Lukas. “We have to leave this one alone, bro. MS-13 has thousands of members, and the cops are involved. We have to pack up and get out of here.”

A knock on the door and our breakfast had arrived. I was in my boxers, so Lukas tipped the waiter and put the tray on the table.

“Can we eat and have a coffee before we run for it?”

Lukas laughed. “Eat fast. I want to get out of this city, and I want to get home. I think I’ll look for a shortcut.”

“We should stick to the main roads. It will be safer.”

“Eat your breakfast and when we’re miles away from here, we’ll have another talk about taking a shortcut to the border.”

I laughed. “Copy that, bro.”

Oval Office. West Wing. D.C.

Lee stood up to shake Jesse’s hand when he entered the Oval Office. “How are things at the State Department?”

Jesse laughed. “With the world in the sorry state it’s in, every day trying to fix it seems to be a complete waste of time.”

“Exactly the same feeling I have at the end of each day. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“I would love one,” said Jesse. “I can get it.” He walked to the sideboard, filled a cup and sauntered back and sat down next to the president’s desk.

“I’ve been speaking with President Ahmadi’s right-hand man about a meeting on neutral ground. He seems open to talking but can’t get the approval to move ahead from the Ayatollah.”

“Honestly, everything hinges on what the Ayatollah wants,” said Lee. “The rest of the people in the Irani government are only figureheads. All of them are puppets. I don’t know what to suggest.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jesse. “I have plenty of other trouble spots to keep me busy.”

Lee smiled. “I’m sure you do.”

After the Secretary of State left the office, Lee texted Lana.

“Missing you.”

“Ditto. In a meeting. I’ll call later.”

Before Lee could respond, Yvonne rushed in and shoved one of the Washington dailies under Lee’s nose. He stared down at a grainy picture of himself and Lana walking hand in hand through the rose garden.

“Look at that, Lee.” Yvonne tapped her finger on the headline.”

NEW ROMANCE AT THE WHITE HOUSE

Lee laughed and shook his head.

“You’re laughing?” Yvonne looked horrified. “You have to talk to the press about this today, Lee. You can’t let them run wild with it.”

“Sure,” said Lee almost casually, “send Raney in here and I’ll work something out with him.”

“You don’t seem too worried about it,” said Yvonne.

“I’m not. Give me one good reason I should be concerned.”

“You being seen with Lana Stoner, Lee? Come on. She’s a party girl and she sleeps around. Everybody knows Stoner.”

“I don’t like your inference, Yvonne. She’s head of the CIA, for chrissakes. If you dislike Director Stoner, keep it to yourself.”

“Yes, sir.” Yvonne stomped out of the office.

Jicaro Galan. Honduras.

Lukas stopped for gas when we got as far south as the intersection of the main highway through Central America. Back to the point where the Creed left us high and dry. While Lukas was in the convenience store buying snacks and drinks, I called Kamps.

“Did you see the news?”

“No. What news are we talking, Thomas? Tell me exactly what you’re asking about.”

I filled him in on the Hernandez kidnapping.

“Are you thinking the MS-13 turned on Hernandez?”

“According to the news this morning down here, that’s what it looks like. We were on his street shortly after the kidnapping went down and we had to get out of there.”

“Yeah, good idea to steer clear,” said Kamps. “Do you want to hear about the job I picked up for you in El Salvador?”

“Not sure I do. I’m tired and I want to get home. Am I clear of the Colombians?”

“Things have quieted down a lot, but you have to be careful. If you want the next guy, his name is Cesar Torres. He’s reported to be in the capital city of San Salvador. You must be near there by now.”

“Not sure where we are. I’ll talk it over with Lukas. He wants to take a different way home. The last time I was down here, I got home on a plane out of Belize.”

“Okay, Belize. I’ll look into that for y’all.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it.”

CIA Headquarters. Langley Virginia.

Lana had the office to herself for the second interview with Logan Sterling. Sterling was one of the few good-looking agents working at headquarters. Tall and dark, he was handsome with a lot of muscle, and he wore his clothes well.

She was attracted to him but reined herself in not wanting to mess things up with Lee. She felt she was making real progress in that area.

They went over the finer points of the position of deputy director and Logan never missed a beat. In Lana’s opinion, he was the best man for the job.

“I can recommend you for the position, Logan, but the President will want a word with you before he makes his final decision.”

“I understand.”

Lana reached for her phone. “Let me see when he can fit you in.” She scrolled through and called the president’s private line.

“Lana, this is a nice surprise.”

“Official business, sir.”

Lee laughed. “Okay, there’s someone with you?”

“Yes, there is, sir.”

“Tell me what you need, my darling.”

“Would it be possible for you to squeeze Agent Sterling into your schedule for an interview sooner than later?”

“Deputy Director is a position I want to fill right away, Lana, for several reasons. Why don’t we say nine tomorrow morning. Whoever Beth has in that slot will have to be rescheduled.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“You’re coming with Agent Sterling, I hope?”

“I am. We’ll both be there at nine.”

“Why don’t you come ahead of Sterling? Come at eight and have breakfast with me upstairs,” said Lee. “You can bring me up to speed on Agent Sterling before I meet him.”

“I can do that, sir.”

“Wonderful.”

Lana ended the call and smiled at Logan. He was a hunk, but she couldn’t look at him that way. Not if she wanted to get closer to Number One, and she definitely needed to do that.

I’m not used to being in an exclusive relationship.

“Are we all set with the White House?” asked Sterling with a big smile on his face.

“Yes. Be in the waiting area outside of the Oval Office a few minutes before nine a.m. tomorrow morning.”

Logan grinned. “If I wasn’t nervous before, I am now.”

“I’m sure your interview will go well. I’ll meet you there, and I don’t anticipate any problems.”

“I appreciate this opportunity, Director Stoner. Thank you.”

“Just show me I chose the right person, Logan.”

“I intend to do that.”

West Wing. White House. D.C.

Seeing Lee’s picture in the paper with Lana Stoner upset Yvonne more than it should have. She didn’t want him, so why should she care if he saw other women casually. He was a man and had needs. He’d never be over Annie Powell, but maybe he was looking for a replacement.

Lana Stoner as a replacement for Annie Powell? You’ve got to be kidding.”

Yvonne walked into her office, shut the door, and immediately felt off-balance. A wave of nausea surged up, making her head spin. She staggered into the ensuite, gripping the doorframe for support.

Before she could reach the toilet, a strange warmth spread between her legs.

Did I just pee myself? No. That’s not urine.

A sharp, wet sensation. Then, the sight of red—too much red. Blood poured down her thighs. Her vision blurred, and her knees buckled.

Darkness.

Yvonne heard herself groaning and thought it was somebody else. She opened her eyes and one of her aides, Marta, was kneeling beside her.

“I called an ambulance, Major. Lie still. They’ll be here shortly to help you.”

Yvonne’s mind struggled to piece things together. Her body felt heavy, foreign. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

Paramedics rushed in and could barely get through the crowd assembled in Yvonne’s private office. Chief of Staff, Carter Levalley, took control and cleared the room. “Everyone out of Major Harrison’s office. Let the ambulance attendants do their job, please.”

The staff moved into the corridor and lingered waiting to see the paramedics carry Yvonne out. Two journalists with press passes attempted to take pictures of Yvonne on the stretcher and Levalley cautioned them.

“Take those pictures and I’ll make sure you never enter the White House again.”

They put their phones away and took notes instead.

Yvonne barely registered being lifted onto the stretcher. The last thing she saw before the office ceiling faded from view was Levalley’s grim expression, jaw-tight, eyes unreadable.

Then she was gone.

Honduras/El Salvador Border.

Getting into El Salvador proved to be rough. The guys working the crossing points were all the same—thugs wearing uniforms. They intimidated the driver of every vehicle stopping at the barrier and tried to get all they could out of them for the privilege of crossing the line.

These guards were the most brutal fuckers yet.

The guards yanked people from their cars, fists flying, boots slamming into ribs. Women sobbed as their purses were emptied, bills snatched by greedy hands. The unlucky ones got dragged off to God knows where. We watched it all while we inched forward in line, the heat thick and stifling.

Lukas and I switched roles before we got too close—better if I did the talking. When our turn came, I eased the truck to a stop. A guard swaggered up, leaned into the window, and spat curses, screaming all the horrible things he planned to do to us.

I stayed cool. Shook my head. His eyes burned into mine until I gestured downward with a slow tilt of my chin.

He hesitated, then leaned in. The moment he saw my Desert Eagle pointed at his family jewels, his mouth snapped shut.

“Don’t move,” I said quietly in Spanish. “Look at my other hand.”

His gaze flicked sideways, locking onto the crisp bills poking out from my fingers.

“Your move, tough guy. Cash or a bullet?”

A slow breath. A second too long. His hand twitched toward his belt.

“Bad idea,” I warned.

Tension stretched thin. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. Then, finally, he reached in and snatched the cash. With a sharp wave of his arm, we were through.

I floored it onto the highway.

“This is bullshit,” said Lukas. “Every fuckin’ time we have to cross they treat us like scum coming into their country.”

“We’re getting out of here, bro. I’m calling Blacky to get us home. I don’t care how he fuckin’ does it.”

San Salvador. El Salvador.

An hour later we were in the capital city, and I had to decide whether to go for Cesar Torres or skip him and head for Texas.

Lukas pulled into a bar and grille and over a couple of beers, I called Blacky and laid out our position for him.

“Need help to get out of here, boss. We’re in San Salvador and I’m not sure I want to take the time for Cesar Torres. Where is the fucker on the list?”

“Torres is high on the list,” said Blacky.

“What’s his specialty?”

“He runs one of the Mara’s death squads and we’d be a lot better off without him in this world, but only if you can manage it.”

“Huh. Depends how many gangers he has for protection.”

“Twenty-five thousand Maras in San Salvador—rough estimate—against you and Lukas. If Torres is well protected, Tommy, I don’t see how you can manage to get anywhere near him.”

“Sounds fuckin’ impossible. How about getting us home? Any ideas?”

“I’ve been looking into possibilities, and if you can get to Guatemala City, I can get you on a plane to Austin from there. Just need a time frame and I’ll book the tickets.”

“Fantastic. We’ll cruise the address we have for Torres, see what we’re up against and call you later. We can’t turn it into an op without the Creed. It sounds too big. Somethings are not a two-man job.”

“I understand. Be careful. The Mara Salvatrucha are a deadly bunch, and they don’t care who they kill.”

I laughed. “Reminds me of the Taliban.”

“Right,” said Blacky, “but the Mara might be more organized than the Taliban.”

“Fuck, I hope not.”

Lukas listened to the conversation and made a decision. “Punch the address into the GPS and we’ll cruise by the place Torres lives. You’re in charge of counting the Harleys.”

“Sure. Give me the hard job.”

Torres Residence. San Salvador.

We followed the GPS to the address Kamps gave us for Torres and he lived in what looked like a renovated factory. Big brick building with a couple of old smoke stacks poking up high in the air.

Eight-foot chain link topped with razor wire all around his ugly hacienda. Double gate at the front entrance. Handy if Torres was receiving truckloads of…anything. Guns, drugs… people to kill.

Musta been a big sale on security cameras at the local Best Buy ‘cause they were everywhere, along with an obscene number of guards

About fifty Harleys were lined up in rows inside the fence.

“This ain’t a job for two men,” grumbled Lukas. “Take a fuckin’ army to take Torres out.”

“That’s what he’s counting on, bro. While he’s inside, he’s untouchable.”

“Want a bet he doesn’t come out too often,” said Lukas. “Only thing we can do from here is use scopes and get the tag numbers—figure out which bike belongs to el presidente—and wait outside the gate hoping the guards don’t take us out while we’re waiting for something that ain’t gonna happen.”

“We can’t run tags in this country. No access to their database.”

“Right. Blacky or Kamps would have to do it,” said Lukas.

“So you’re saying if we ran those fifty tags and by some miracle found one belonging to Torres, then we’d have to wait until he left the compound and pick him off on the street, hoping we don’t die first.”

“That’s about it.”

“If he lives in there and he’s safe, why would he come out? That’s the whole point, ain’t it?”

“Talk to Blacky, bro. He may want you to leave it alone.”

I called the boss from the truck, and he told us to get away from Torres and leave him be for now. He’d pass the address on to the DEA, ATF and Homeland, let them deal with it.

“Head for Guatemala City and when you’re getting close, call and tell me,” said Blacky. “I’ll get plane tickets for y’all.”

“I’m happy as hell with that decision, boss, and so is Lukas.”

My turn to drive. We left Torres and San Salvador behind and headed for the Guatemala border.

Shoving the seat back and lighting up a smoke, Lukas said, “One more border to go.”

El Salvadore/Guatemala Border.

After the first two hours, I was getting tired of driving. Pitch dark and we both wanted to stop and sleep, but I was determined to cross into Guatemala before we looked for a motel.

While my brother dozed in the passenger seat, I drove for another hour and a half and finally saw the signs for the border crossing.

Not much of a lineup, and these border cops were the best we’d come across on the entire fuckin’ trip. No bribes. I showed them our papers and they had a long look and then waved me on through while Lukas slept. Snoring like a sumbitch. Let sleeping dogs lie.

El Obraje. Guatemala.

The first roadside motel I came to, I pulled up next to the office and rented a room. Lukas wanted to sleep, and I was just as beat.

Three other units had vehicles parked in front and I didn’t care much what the place was like as long as it had beds and running water and possibly coffee in the morning.

Lukas grabbed his bag, walked into the room, dropped his bag on the floor and flopped face down on the bed.

I smiled at him as I brought the rest of our gear in and locked the door behind me.

Chapter Fifteen

Wednesday, November 27th.

El Obraje. Guatemala.

After a decent sleep, I was up early because this was the day I was going home to see my kids. Couldn’t wait to get to the fuckin’ airport and get on that plane that would take me to Texas.

I lit up a smoke and made a coffee in the little pot on the dresser. As soon as the first one finished dripping, I made one for Lukas and woke him up.

“I need to know how long it will take us to get to the airport before I can call Blacky for the tickets.”

Lukas moaned. “Can’t you figure it out?”

“If I could, do you think I’d be waking up a miserable fucker like you?”

He groaned and pushed the covers back. “Come on, bro. You can do a helluva lot more than you let on.”

“What are you saying? You calling me a liar?”

“No. You’re not a liar, but you underestimate yourself.” Lukas sat up, grabbed his smokes and lit one up. “Where’s the map?”

“In the truck. I’ll get it. I made you a coffee.” I pointed to the cardboard cup on the dresser.

He raised one eyebrow, and I took that as Thanks, Tommy. You’re the best brother I could possibly have. But Lukas never said shit like that.

I ran outside into the morning heat, grabbed the map out of the footwell in the truck and brought it in. “Here you go.”

Lukas stared at it for a minute. “We can do the distance in three hours.”

“Great.” I grabbed the sat phone and called Blacky.

“Tommy, are you getting close to Guatemala City?”

“Lukas says we’re three hours out. Can you get us tickets for today?”

“Yep. Three hours away plus a couple hours for processing time. Let me call and get you a flight number and a time.”

“Thanks, boss.”

By the time I made another terrible cup of coffee, Blacky was back to me. “Be at La Aurora International Airport as soon as y’all can for a two o’clock flight to Austin.”

“Got it. We’ll leave in ten minutes and pick up food and coffee on the way. Thanks, boss. Can’t wait to get back to Texas.”

“Let me know when y’all are home safe,” said Blacky.

“Copy that, boss.”

“Two o’clock flight,” I said to Lukas.

He grinned. “I heard. Let’s clean up and get on the road. I don’t mind getting there early and waiting. I can drink coffee anywhere.”

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Lee set his alarm to get up half an hour earlier than usual to be ready for Lana coming for breakfast in his private quarters.

A hot shower to get him going, Lee chose his clothes carefully, fiddled with his hair and made sure his shave was perfect. A splash of the new cologne but not too much to be overpowering.

He had time for a coffee in the dining room before Daniel showed Lana in. Lee smiled and waited until Daniel left the room before taking Lana in his arms and kissing her with all the pent-up passion he had for her. “You look gorgeous this morning.”

“Not every day I have breakfast with the President and a meeting in the Oval Office.” She laughed.

Lee whispered, “We could have more than a meeting in there.”

“Are you modelling yourself on past presidents?”

Lee chuckled. “No, but I’m not blind to how it could easily happen.”

George Washington University Hospital. D.C.

Yvonne woke up feeling sore and nauseated and miserable all over. She’d been able to call Roy the day before, but she didn’t want him to come and see her in such a helpless and vulnerable state.

He’d asked if he should call Chet, and Yvonne said she’d do it as soon as she got home from the hospital.

The doctor checked her out on his morning rounds and discharged her. Feeling more depressed than she ever had in her entire life, she called Roy.

“Can I come now, Yvonne?”

“Yes, please. I’ve been released and you can come and get me.”

“I’ll be there in an hour. It’s going to be okay.”

“Don’t think so.”

Oval Office. West Wing. D.C.

After breakfast, Lee and Lana strolled through the Colonnade to the West Wing. As they approached the Oval Office, Yvonne’s aide Marta McCallum was waiting there to speak to the president.

“May we have a moment, sir. It’s about Major Harrison.”

“Of course, Marta. What is it?”

“The Major won’t be in today, sir.”

“Is she ill?”

“She became ill yesterday and was kept in the hospital overnight.”

“And I wasn’t told?”

“Major Harrison asked that you not be told. She didn’t want you to be concerned.”

“If she was in the hospital, of course I’d be concerned, Marta. What is she thinking?”

Marta teared up. “I don’t know sir.”

“Thank you for the information, Marta. Try not to worry. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Lee opened the door to the office and motioned for Lana to go in ahead of him. “Take a seat, Lana. I have to make a call.”

Looking a little puzzled, Lana sat on the sofa and glanced around the Oval Office while Lee entered his private ensuite and called Roy.

“Yes, sir. You want me?” Roy stifled a sob.

“Roy, why are you in tears? Tell me what’s happening with Yvonne.”

“Our baby died,” Roy whispered. “I’m picking Yvonne up at the hospital now.”

“Chet’s baby,” said Lee. “Oh, my God, that’s a tragedy for all of you, Roy.”

“Yes. Chet doesn’t know yet and we have to tell him.”

“I’m in a meeting but I’ll call you when I’m finished. Yvonne might need me to come over and sit with her.”

“She may,” said Roy. “She’s extremely upset about telling Chet. I’m worried too. Chet doesn’t do tragedy very well.”

“Of course she would be upset. I’ll call in a couple of hours.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Lee hurried out of the bathroom thankful that Agent Sterling hadn’t arrived yet.

“Who are you so worried about, Lee?” asked Lana. “I can read the concern in your face.”

“Major Harrison lost her baby.”

“Oh, your special advisor. You must know her well. I didn’t think she was married. Whose baby was it?”

“She was seeing a man from Texas, and they broke up.”

“How sad.”

“The breakup was hard on both of them,” said Lee.

“Sounds like you know her boyfriend too,” said Lana.

“I do. A brilliant man and a colleague. I feel terrible for him. He’s a sensitive person but doesn’t show his feelings.” Lee shook his head and sucked in a gulp of oxygen. “I’m talking too much.”

“You’re obviously upset by this entire tragedy.” Lana took his hand and pulled him down onto the sofa beside her. She stroked Lee’s hair, and he rested his head on her shoulder.

A knock on the door, and Lee stood up as Tara Cabello showed Logan Sterling into the Oval Office.

Lana stood at Lee’s side and introduced them.

Lee faked a smile and shook Sterling’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Agent Sterling. Please, have a seat.”

“The pleasure is mine, sir.”

And the interview was under way.

Benton Crescent. Georgetown. D.C.

Yvonne’s driver brought them home from the hospital and Roy helped her into the house. “Sit on the sofa and I’ll make you some tea.”

“I’m a mess Roy. My insides feel like they’ve been ripped apart and put through a cheese grater.”

Yvonne sat on the sofa and Roy tucked a blanket around her. “Lee called to see how you were doing.”

“He’s not coming over here, is he?”

“He is if you need him. He said as much on the phone.”

“Try to prevent that, Roy. I don’t think I can face him right now.”

“Before we worry about Lee coming to fuss over you, we have to call Chet.”

“I know we do, and I keep putting it off.”

“Why don’t I call and we’ll both talk.”

Yvonne’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes, let’s do it together, Roy. I’m terrified to call him. He’s going to be so upset.”

“He will, but we have to call. The baby was his as well as yours.”

“Don’t remind me, Roy. I can’t bear to think about it.”

Old West Austin. Texas.

“Roy, why didn’t you call me this morning like you always do? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay and neither is Yvonne.”

“Tell me what’s going on in D.C. Roy. What the fuck is happening there?”

“We lost our baby, Chet.” Roy sobbed. “Yvonne had a miscarriage. We don’t have a baby anymore.”

Silence from Kamps.

“Was she in the hospital?”

“Overnight. We’re just getting home now.”

“Why didn’t you call me yesterday, Roy?”

“I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t call me? Okay. You and Yvonne stay in D.C. I don’t want either one of you ever coming back here to Texas and destroying my life… again.” Kamps raised his voice and hollered into the phone, “Both of you stay the hell away from me.”

The call ended with Roy sobbing and Kamps cut him off. He needed his phone free to call Annie.

Five whole minutes of deep breathing before he could make the call.

“Chet, are you okay?”

“Hey, Beauty, I’m having a shit day.”

“What happened, sugar?”

Long pause before Kamps could say the words, “Yvonne had a miscarriage and lost our baby.”

“Oh, no.” Annie started to cry. “I’m so sorry. Have you talked to her?”

“No. She and Roy didn’t even call me yesterday when it happened. Roy just called and told me it was a done deal. I don’t want to talk to either one of them.”

“Get on your bike and ride out here. Wind in your face is the best thing for you right now.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, expect me in about an hour.”

Aurora International Airport. Guatemala City.

“Pull your cap down low and don’t look at any of the fuckin’ cameras. The fuckin’ Russians and the Colombians could be watching the airports down here in sweatland.”

“Think that might be true?” asked Lukas.

“With all the bribery going on down here, anybody could be paying anybody to knock me off.”

“Yeah, I guess. Act normal and don’t attract any attention. That’s what we should do.”

“Yeah. Good copy.”

“Once we board,” said Lukas, “we’ll be home in three hours. Ain’t that far.”

“That’s because we drove half the fuckin’ way already.”

“Copy that.”

Donovan Ranch. Elgin.

Farrell found out from Blacky that Mateo had retired from the Diamontes and arrived at Coulter-Ross from Panama to be with Annie.

“He’ll be a permanent fixture at the ranch from now on,” said Blacky.

“I ain’t gonna be the one to tell Tommy that fuckin’ news, if he don’t know already. Not after the last fight we had.”

“Leave it alone and it will work itself out,” said Blacky. “At least, that’s what I’m hoping. All of us knew Mateo would come sooner or later.”

“Tommy knew, but I bet he’s not ready for it,” said Farrell. “It’s the ideal solution for the Tommy and Annie thing, but I don’t see Tommy leaving it be.”

“Don’t mess in it, Farrell.”

“I’m not touching it.”

“Neither one of us will.”

“Like ignore it, and it will go away?”

“Best advice I can give you, Farrell.”

“Yeah, good copy.”

Cherrywood. Austin.

I was so anxious to get home, I didn’t sleep on the flight at all, but I couldn’t say the same for Lukas. He was the king of sleeping on planes or in trucks or in beds. Wherever.

My truck was parked in long-term at the airport and it cost me a goddamned fortune to get it out of the lot. But at this point I’d pay any amount to get home to my family.

I dropped Lukas in Cherrywood at Aunt Gail’s place and spent a few minutes catching up with her. Gave her a hug and didn’t stay long. I was in a big hurry to get home to see the kids.

Checked my watch a couple of times on the drive out to Butler and figured they’d already be in bed.

That’s okay. I’ll watch them sleeping in their cribs and play with them in the morning.

Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.

Kamps parked his Harley next to the garage and Mick sauntered out to take a look-see who had arrived on a bike. He frowned when he saw the condition of the Electra Glide and motioned for Kamps to get off.

“Let me take that into the garage. How’d you let it get into such a goddamned mess?”

“Easy,” snapped Kamps. “I never went into the garage to look at it.”

Mick gave him the stink-eye and wheeled the bike towards the six-bay garage he called home.

Kamps shrugged and limped along the flagstone path to the porch.

Annie ran out the screen door to meet him and gave him a hug. “Come in, sugar. You made good time.”

“Mick took my ride. Don’t know if I’ll be getting it back or not.”

Annie laughed. “He’ll fix it up for you and make it look and run like new. It’s what he does.”

Mateo sat at the island with a Lone Star in his hand and nodded to Kamps. Annie got them both another beer and sat on the end stool. “You know Mateo, don’t you, Chet?”

“Not sure that I do.” Chet offered his hand and Mateo shook it. “Nice to meet you at last. Heard a lot about you. You run the Diamontes down in Panama, right?”

“Si.”

They both lapsed into silence and Annie figured Chet wasn’t in a chatty mood. She’d talk to him later in private about the loss of the baby.

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler.

I parked my truck in front of my house and sat there for a couple of minutes so fuckin’ happy to be back home on my little farm.

Compared to places I’d been and the shacks I’d seen people living in, my house looked like a goddamned mansion. I was so lucky.

Farrell and Ellis were cozied up on the sofa watching TV when I walked in, and the kids weren’t around.

They’re in bed.

Ellis squealed when I came in the door and ran into the foyer to give me a hug. “I’m so glad you’re home, Tommy. Have you eaten? I have lots left from supper.”

I dropped my gear in the foyer and let out the breath I was holding. “I could eat, but first I’ll run up and stare at the kids for a couple of minutes.”

“Sure.”

Farrell strode into the foyer and gave me a hug. “Glad you made it. I’ll get you a beer while you peek at the kids.”

“Thanks.”

I ran upstairs to see my babies and they were both sleeping like little angels in their cribs. Tears burned behind my eyes, finally seeing them after so many days.

On the way downstairs, my heart hurt over Annie and Mateo, but it was always there in the shadows, and I just didn’t let it into my head.

I should’ve been ready, but I wasn’t. Never would be. Just the way it was.

Farrell and I sat at the kitchen table while I ate, and he wanted to know details of what I’d been doing since I’d been gone.

I couldn’t tell him all of it, but he was keen on hearing about the Mara and us finding where Torres lived in San Salvador.

Describing the fortress the Mara butcher lived in wasn’t breaking any confidentiality rules and Farrell wanted to know. He hated the MS-13 with a passion. Right up there on his hate list with the Brotherhood and a couple of other tier one clubs.

When Kamps is able to come up with an address like he does, it’s more of a big deal than I gave him credit for. That shit is buried deep where no normal person can find it.

I decided to be more thankful to him in the future.

After I ate a brownie and had a cup of Ellis’ good coffee, I went back upstairs and spent more time with Linc and Simka.

Sitting in the rocking chair in their room, I was so fuckin’ grateful to the Fates for letting me come home.

I’d seen Misty put gifts under the trees for them at her place and maybe I should do that too.

Chapter Sixteen

Thursday, November 28th.

Thanksgiving Day.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Lee sat at the dining room table aware that it was Thanksgiving Day. How could he miss it? The White House was decorated inside and out for the occasion. The part he hated was being alone on these festive occasions when everyone else in the entire country was celebrating with friends and family.

Utterly depressing but there was no way around it. Almost everyone on the planet had Thanksgiving Dinner with their families—even families they didn’t see much of all year long. But getting together with Ted was next to impossible, and he had no one else.

After eating scrambled eggs and one slice of toast, Lee called Roy to see how Yvonne was doing.

I wonder when she can come back to work. Is that selfish of me?

“Good morning, Roy. How are you and Yvonne doing today? Any better?”

“She’s not up yet, sir. She rested yesterday and she told me she planned to go back to work on Monday.”

“Is that enough time?”

“The doctor said it was.”

“Did Kamps take the news badly?” asked Lee. “He’s not the type of person to take things lightly. I know that much about him.”

“Extremely bad reaction, sir. He said Yvonne and I destroyed his life, and we were never to set foot in Texas again.”

“Oh, my. He is in a bad way. Perhaps I should call him.”

“Might go better if you called, sir. I was thinking of calling today, but it might only make matters worse. He is so mad at me already for staying in D.C. so long with Yvonne.”

“Take care of Yvonne, Roy, and I’ll give Mister Kamps a try.”

“Thank you, sir. That’s very kind of you.”

Lee scrolled through and called Chet Kamps.

“Good morning, sir. How can I help you?”

“I’m hoping I can help you, Chet. You must be feeling terrible today.”

“Pretty low. That’s a fact.”

“We’re all feeling the loss, Chet. Especially Roy.”

“Did he ask you to call?”

“No. Just the opposite. He feared me calling might make things worse for him. He’s overwhelmed with grief for you and for Yvonne.”

“That’s a huge part of the problem, not that I should be unloading on you, sir, but I’d do much better if Roy were here where he belongs.”

“I understand. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Appreciate the call, sir. Have a happy Thanksgiving Day.”

“Thank you.”

Lee called Roy back and relayed the information and Roy was overjoyed. “I’ll go home on Monday when Yvonne goes back to work.”

“Call and tell him, Roy.”

“I will. Thank you, sir. You’re a lifesaver.”

If only that were true.

Oval Office. West Wing. D.C.

Lee strolled through the empty halls feeling a little lost without Yvonne. He needed a document from his desk drawer so he could finish a section of work upstairs in his home office.

The usually crowded corridors were almost empty. The odd dedicated soul still working even on a holiday. Good for them, but they shouldn’t be here.

Lee closed the door of the Oval, sat behind his desk and texted Lana to make himself feel a little more stable and connected.

“Can we have dinner on the weekend?”

“Sure. I’m at my parents’ house today in Fredericksburg for Thanksgiving. Wish you were here, but I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“Definitely not. Have a lovely time.”

“Thank you.”

Lee stood up to leave the office and Nate Walsh called. “Lee, this is Nate. Last minute, but I was wondering if you’d like to join Amanda and I for dinner at six out here at number One Observatory Circle.”

“Love to, Nate. That place brings back fond memories for me. Thanks for the invitation.”

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler. Texas.

I slept like the dead and when I made it downstairs for breakfast, Ellis was baking pies. The kitchen smelled like apples and cinnamon and all the good stuff like when Annie was always baking at the ranch with Riley and Rosalie.

Linc and Simka were still in their highchairs but had finished eating breakfast and were rolling out small balls of dough on their trays with little rolling pins.

“Pie, Daddy,” said Simka.

“You making pies? Daddy is gonna take your picture and send it to Aunt Gail and Lukas.”

“I invited them for dinner, dear,” said Ellis. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Sure don’t. Didn’t even know I’d be here myself, but I’m glad I am. Farrell coming too?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Neil going to Annie’s for dinner?”

“I think so, but Farrell did mention to him we were having dinner here and he was invited.”

“Hope Neil drops in to see the kids. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

Alfie sat next to me with his head on my lap and I hugged him. “I missed you, my special dog.”

“He missed you too,” said Ellis with a laugh. “He’s a bit of a crybaby.”

Ellis made me ham and eggs and when I finished and the kids were done rolling dough, we played on the floor in their toy area of the family room.

“This time of year, this wood floor is cold, Ellis. Let’s get a nice thick rug for the play area.”

“Sure, we can do that. There might be some good sales on tomorrow for Black Friday.”

“Yeah, good call. That would be a hoot, wouldn’t it? All that pushing and shoving to get the best rug.” I laughed and both the kids laughed too.

Quantrall Ranch. Giddings.

Jesse spent an hour in the barn when he first got up. Walking down the aisle between the rows of stalls, inhaling the aroma of the hay and straw and the horses that he missed so terribly when he was sitting on his ass in Washington.

His political life was important because he was a patriot, but that life seemed so far removed from his true self. When he served his country in Washington, he was a different person.

Jamie, the ranch foreman punched Jesse in the shoulder in greeting. “Hey, boss. Glad you made it home for the holidays. It’s been lonesome around here without you. I get sick of looking at Paulie’s face every morning.” He chuckled.

“I bet you do. Anything you guys need?”

“Hell no. Paul is great that way. He’s into all the latest stuff on the market. New ranch trucks too. He traded in the fleet and got the latest. We’ve got it all.”

“Good. I’m glad somebody is taking care of the ranch. Somedays, I stare out the window of the Truman building and the ranch is all I think about.”

“You’re trying to save the fuckin’ world, boss. That’s a job. Ain’t it?”

“Like I said to Armstrong the other day, dealing with the countries in turmoil and trying to help them is a thankless job. Most days are a complete waste of fuckin’ time.”

Jamie laughed. “Maybe you could save us all some tax money while you’re there messing around, boss.”

“Hope I can, Jamie. Like to save myself some too.”

“You must see the government waste when you’re up close and personal, boss. I’ve heard it’s fuckin’ horrendous.”

“Can’t argue with that, Jamie. And I’d like nothing more than to fix everything that’s wrong at the Cap. Believe me, I’d do it if I could.”

“Don’t envy you, boss. Stories that come out of that city, the Cap is a fuckin’ quagmire.”

“You called it, Jamie. You guys knock off early and enjoy your day.”

“Thanks, boss. We’ll be having a game later, after football.”

“Deal me in.”

“You know it.”

Jesse smiled as he gave Corky an extra carrot before going back to the house.

It’s good to be home.

Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.

Annie and Riley started early in the morning getting ready for the big day. A lot of prep work had been done the day before. Salads were made and side dishes were ready for the oven. All the pies were baked along with extra squares and decorated cookies for the kids.

Mateo was already at the barn with the hands. He loved the physical work on the ranch and pitched in every chance he got. Used to hard work all his life, he needed to be busy.

Annie had heard that Tommy was home, but she didn’t allow herself to think about him. She couldn’t let her battered brain go to that place, or it would destroy her and her long relationship with Mateo.

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler. Texas.

Middle of the afternoon Farrell came over and I cracked open a couple of cold Shiners. We watched a game and then Lukas and Aunt Gail arrived, and the party really got started.

Ellis made margaritas in the blender for her and Gail, and Gail pitched in to help with the cooking. They seemed to be having fun in the kitchen. Dinner prep got louder and a lot rowdier. We could hear a lot of laughing.

Lukas played on the floor with Linc and Simka and they had a great time. Lots of laughing there too.

Ellis couldn’t believe there were so many football games on TV in one day.

When the turkey was ready, we sat down to eat, and Farrell carved the bird. The way he hacked the meat off the bird looked like he was a carving virgin, but I didn’t say anything. I was too hungry.

The food was delish, and we all ate way too much.

“So good, Ellis. I can barely move. No way I should’ve eaten that second piece of pie.”

“Same,” said Lukas.

More football in the family room, and after the last game everybody went home.

Ellis was upstairs putting the kids to bed when I called Ricki and asked her if she wanted to go to Boots with me for an hour.

“Oh, Tommy, I’m so happy you’re home. Sure, I’ll go to boots with you. It will be fun.”

Boots & Saddles Roadhouse. Giddings.

After I tucked the kids into bed, I left Farrell and Ellis holding the fort and headed next door to the Milligan Ranch to pick Ricki up for Boots. On the off chance I’d get to sing, I took my guitar with me.

Ricki was ready and waiting on her porch and she looked hot in tight jeans and a black V-neck sweater under her fringed suede jacket.

We got to the roadhouse and the parking lot was close to full. The after-Thanksgiving crowd was pouring in for some holiday fun.

Annie and Mateo were both at the bar. Annie behind it filling pitchers and Mateo on the end stool watching her every move.

I gave a smile I didn’t feel, and a little wave as we passed by the bar on the hunt for a place to sit.

Closer to the stage, I found a booth for us and ordered a pitcher. The band was into their second set and the crowd was worked up into a holiday frenzy.

Ricki and I danced close to a slow song, and I leaned into her and kissed her neck.

“I love you, Tommy. I never said that to Eric because I didn’t love him and never would. I only dated him because you were gone.”

“You can tell me all about Eric some other time. Tonight, I want to have fun and sing a few for the crowd.”

Ricki smiled. “That’s what I want too. I’m so happy you came back to me. My mom will be happy too. She didn’t like Eric.”

I grinned. “Hey, one for Tommy.”

Ricki laughed and it made me happy.

I took Ricki back to our booth then crossed the dancefloor to the stage and talked to Beau about the songs I wanted to sing.

“Yeah, we know that one. Old song covered by Joe Ely and the Texas Tornados, Tommy. Haven’t heard your arrangement of it but we’ll fake it.”

“Thanks, guys.”

When it was my turn, I stood up at the mic and sang a song that was in my heart, and I had to get it out. An old song called She Never Spoke Spanish to Me.

I was on the last chorus when I looked up and Annie was standing in front of the stage staring at me.

She got my message.

When I took Ricki home, I asked her if she wanted to go Black Friday shopping with me and Ellis and Farrell and the kids.

“That sounds like so much fun. Course I want to go with you, Tommy. You are the star in my sky.”

I walked her to the door and kissed her like I meant it. Turned out I did. She was sweet and fun.

Ricki helped me out a lot with my broken heart.

Chapter Seventeen

Friday, November 29th.

Black Friday.

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler. Texas.

I was up at six and could hear the kids talking to each other in the nursery. I pulled on barn clothes and went next door to get them up.

As soon as Linc saw me wearing my old plaid shirt he knew where I was going. “Barn, Daddy. Me too.”

“Yep, you guys can come. I’ll get your overalls on. Jackets too. It’s cold in the mornings.”

Linc ran ahead with Alfie, and I carried Simka. She was so small, I worried about her running with the dog. He was huge and could easily knock her down and never even notice.

The barn door squeaked when I opened it, and I put it on my mental list of things to do now that I was home for a while.

Inside, the big barn had an empty feel I didn’t like. “We need to clean up these pens and get some company in here for Durango. You guys need something to feed morning and night. I’ll get y’all a couple of calves and two pigs and some chickens.

“Ducks,” said Linc. “Simka likes ducks.”

“Where did y’all see ducks?”

Nobody knew the answer to that one. “How would y’all like to have your own little farm?”

“Pigs, Daddy,” said Linc. “Oink, oink.”

He made me laugh. “Yep. We’ll get ourselves a couple of oinkers.”

Supermall. Highway 290. Austin.

We all couldn’t fit in my truck with the two car seats in the back, so Farrell and Ellis were meeting us at the mall for our Black Friday shopping adventure. We were starting early hoping to beat the rush.

I picked Ricki up and found out her mom had decided to come too. Amanda had to squeeze into the back seat with the kids. The more the crazier.

We met Farrell and Ellis in front of the carpet store and transferred the babies from their car seats to their strollers.

“I’ll push Simka,” said Amanda with a big smile. “This reminds me of when I used to take Ricki shopping in her stroller.”

“I don’t remember stroller shopping, Mom.” She laughed.

Going into the store we were all happy, but Black Friday was tougher than it looked. The store was packed and battling through the women grabbing area rugs wasn’t easy.

WWE for area rugs.

“Pick one, Ellis,” I said. “You know our colors.”

“We need nine by twelve, Farrell,” said Ellis. “Find the right pile.”

Farrell had a look of panic on his face and I egged him on.

The rugs were rolled up and stacked on skids and every skid had a crowd of women around it.

“Shit,” said Farrell. “What do I know from rugs?”

Ricki shoved her way close enough to pull one out of the pile. “This one,” she said. “I love this one.”

Ellis felt the thickness of it and glanced at the price tag. “Too expensive. That one is three hundred dollars on sale half price.”

“Good deal,” I said. “We’ll take it. I want to get out of here.”

Farrell laughed. “You wussy.”

While we were lined up to pay, I ran my idea by Farrell. “I’m thinking of putting more animals in the barn for the winter to keep Durango warm. Couple of calves, some chickens and maybe two pigs. One for each of the kids.”

He rolled his eyes. “Will help keep the barn warm, but lots of work if you’re out there feeding them and cleaning them out night and morning.”

“Won’t bother me.”

“No, but it might bother me when I’m stuck doing it while you’re working.”

“Yeah, never thought of it that way.”

“That’s the only way I’m thinking about it, cuz.”

“Might need me a hired hand if I fill the barn up.”

Farrell chuckled. “You might.”

We hit a couple of other stores Ellis and Amanda wanted to shop in and we bought a ton of stuff for the new house and for the kids before we quit.

Time for one coffee before taking our bags and our rug back home. I had work to do in Austin.

Old West Austin.

After hell-shopping was over, I dropped the gang off at home and drove into the city to get shit done. My expense receipts had to go to Kamps, and I wanted to talk to him anyway about Yvonne and the baby.

Rough stuff.

He let me in to the empty-feeling townhouse and I tossed him the bag of crumpled paper.

“Is this what I think it is?” He eyed the bag with a look of disgust.

“Knock yourself out. Any coffee?” I walked into the kitchen, and it was easy to see Roy wasn’t here. Day-old coffee on the burner. Dishes in the sink. Empty beer bottles on the counter.

There was always fresh coffee when Roy lived here. I made a pot, put the dishes in the dishwasher and filled two mugs when the coffee was ready.

“Thanks,” said Kamps. “I’m behind.”

“You eaten anything in the past few days?”

“Can’t remember.”

No fast-food containers lying around. I checked the fridge and there wasn’t much in there. Pickles and a jar of mustard. Carton of cream. Not much else. Roy did the marketing. Kamps rarely went out. “Have you talked to Yvonne?”

“Only Roy. I lost it and I remember saying both of them should stay the hell away from me.”

Kamps went silent.

“Okeydoke.”

I’ll talk to Roy on my own.

“How is your busted head?”

“Aching off and on. Not too dizzy. The puking stopped. Wasn’t bad while I was away. I think I’m being more careful now.”

“Careful, how? Like not taking chances on getting hurt?”

“No. Not like that. I don’t trust nobody no more. Can’t afford to. I avoid all of the liars and two-faced assholes. All of them are out to get you and take whatever they can steal.”

Kamps raised an eyebrow. “Kind of pessimistic on your part but could be true.”

Whatever that meant.

I checked the watch Blacky got me and told Kamps I had to go. “The boss wants to see me. I have to debrief and tell him the Colombia story and all the rest of it.”

“I’ll let you know when your expense money comes through, Tommy.”

“Just dump it in my account. Thanks.”

I waved my arm around the almost empty living room. “It’s depressing here without Roy. You can call me if you want or come and stay at my house for a while. I don’t think you should stay here alone right now.”

Kamps gripped his coffee mug with both hands, his knuckles turning white. “I rode my Harley out to the ranch and had a beer with Annie. Thanks for the offer.”

“That would do you good. Wind in your face clears your head. I need to do that too. Too much shit going on in my brain.”

“Yeah, it helped a lot to get out of here and hit the highway. Might go for another ride.”

“Don’t just sit here staring at the fuckin’ wall, if you need something. Call me.”

“Yeah, I will.”

The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

Blacky and I sat in his office while I debriefed from the Colombian mission. Blacky recorded all of it and he’d type it into a report and file it away where nobody would ever fuckin’ see it. Maybe Granddad would get a glimpse of it. Who knew what happened after the words came out of my mouth?

“Lukas and I were pissed about the Creed cutting bait on us, boss. It was all Nick, not the other guys, but they had to go when he left.”

“They’re his team, but his actions were reprehensible. We don’t increase the danger for our own people.”

“And we left food on the plate, boss. We coulda taken out at least one more piece of shit. Instead, the job was too big for just Lukas and me. Mission failure. Fuckin’ hate that.”

Blacky sighed. Lots of stress for the poor guy. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to Nick yet—I left several messages, but he’s not returning them. Not a good sign. He’s always passed personal ops by me, so there’d be no conflict. His secrecy is…troubling, to put it mildly.”

“That’s the question, ain’t it? Why the fuck would you bail and leave teammates in the middle of Central America on a potential op? I know I said it before, but total dick move.”

“If it’s any consolation, once I had his location, I got that ball rolling and Senor Torres might be feeling more heat than he can handle very soon.”

“That’s all hunky dory, but they should never have left me twisting in the wind. I’m gonna give Nick a piece of my mind next time I see him.”

“Respectfully, leave it with me, Tommy. I’ll let you know when that goes down.”

“Thanks. I dropped my receipts off to Kamps and he’s a mess. I wish Roy would come home.”

“So do I. Kamps shouldn’t be sitting over there alone.”

“I told him to come stay at my house, but I don’t think he will.”

“Probably not.” Blacky ran down his list of notes and tapped his finger on the next one. “Speaking of your new house, I want to talk to you about a secure room.”

“All the rooms are pretty secure, boss. Great security system. Thanks again, by the way.”

Blacky grinned. “Not a ‘room that is secure,’ Tommy. A safe room. A panic room.”

“Safe room. I’ve heard of those.”

He pulled a folded paper out of a brown envelope and spread it out on the desk in front of me.

“What’s this?”

“The secure room that’s being installed behind the pantry at your new house.”

“You been out to my place? Ellis didn’t tell me.”

Blacky laughed. “Farrell and I did the preliminary measuring, and then I called this company in.” He pointed to the name printed on the edge of the paper I was looking at. “They’ll let you know when they’re ready to come and install your new room.”

“Fuck. How much is this costing me?”

“Plenty, but one attempt on the kids is one too many. I want you to be better prepared.”

“Amen to that, boss.”

When he mentioned the kids, Another thought came to mind. “Think there’ll be room for my guns and gear in there? With two little kids runnin’ around, I need somewhere to store them all. I keep most of ‘em in the barn and just keep the Eagle close to me.”

“There will be enough room for an AR, the Eagle and some rounds, but not much more. It’s a good idea, but this company is genius at making something out of nothing. They can also create a custom gun room in your barn. That might be the better idea.”

“Holy shit. More money goin’ out? I don’t think I can afford it.”

Blacky laughed. “Tommy, you can afford to build an entire house of safe rooms. Trust me, you’ll be fine. Always remember, my friend—you can’t put a price on keeping your family safe.”

A sobering thought. “True dat, boss.”

White House. Washington. D.C.

Hoping Lana would return from her parents’ house in Fredericksburg soon so they could spend time together over the holidays, Lee wasn’t paying attention to anything or anyone around him as he strolled through the Colonnade on his way to the Oval Office.

The White House was quiet for the holiday. Skeleton crew.

His chief of security, Dan Black leaned on the wall with his phone to his ear, all the time keeping an eye on the president as he headed for his office in the West Wing.

Whoosh.

The projectile arced over the fence—a miracle shot, if you could call it that.

Dan heard it first.

Too late.

“Down!” he roared.

Boom.

The explosion ripped through the bushes, shredding concrete, spewing dirt, and sending shockwaves through the Colonnade. Armstrong disappeared beneath it all.

Dan sprinted forward, coughing through the smoke. “Get him out of there!”

Screaming into his headset, he called for backup and for an ambulance. The troops came running and surrounded the inert body of the president. Lee Armstrong was barely visible under a layer of dirt, shredded bushes and chucks of concrete blown out of the Colonnade’s infrastructure.

Luckily the pillars held, and the roof didn’t cave in.

“Get that shit off of him,” shouted Dan

Agents scrambled, hacking to breathe in the haze of dust as they threw pieces of debris aside. The air stank of scorched earth. The president’s face was streaked with blood as the dust settled everywhere. A dark puddle seeped beneath his head.

Dan clenched his jaw. Shit.

“Where did it come from?”

“Had to be the street,” yelled Dan.

It was bad.

“Long throw,” said one of the Secret Service team. “Almost impossible, I’d say.”

“But the fucking thing got here, didn’t it?” Dan barked. “Call the FBI and lock down the area. We have to find the asshole who threw it before he’s on a plane back to... wherever.”

Men scattered in every direction as Dan checked his watch wondering where in hell the ambulance was. He glanced toward the street and already there were a dozen reporters waving for attention and shouting through the bars of the wrought iron fence.

“Don’t let them see the president,” he called to the security guards who had newly arrived on the scene. “Block their view of his body. They can’t know he’s hurt.”

Black Friday. Hardly any staff inside the White House.

He ripped out his phone. “Call Walsh.”

The vice president’s voice was groggy. “This is Walsh.”

“Sir, it’s Dan Black at the White House. Emergency. President Armstrong is down. You need to get here. Now.”

A beat of silence. “How bad?”

“Really bad, sir.”

“I’m on my way.”

Footsteps. Paramedics had arrived.

One swore under her breath. “Jesus. Look at him.”

“Is he breathing?” asked Dan.

“Weak and thready pulse,” said the girl in uniform. “We’ve got to hurry.”

Dan gritted his teeth. “Then move, goddammit. Get him the hell out of here. Now.”

They had the president loaded in under a minute. The ambulance doors slammed shut.

“Jerry, I’ve got to go with the president,” said Dan. “Watch for the vice president and secure him in the Oval and tell him everything we know. He’ll know what to do next”

“Roger that, Dan.”

“Everyone else, get away from the Colonnade. These pillars could collapse any minute.”

Dan Black ran to the parking lot cursing terrorists and Black Friday terrorists in particular.

NSA Headquarters. Fort Meade. Maryland.

Deputy Director Floyd Cassidy, tapped on Blaine Dunnett’s office door, didn’t wait for a response and rushed in.

Dunnett glanced up and peered over silver-rimmed glasses at his deputy. “Floyd?”

Floyd was breathless. “Attack at the White House, sir. Armstrong’s severely hurt. An IED lobbed from beyond the fence. The chatter says the Colonnade was blown apart.”

The old director stared for a moment. “That’s it? Nothing more?”

“For now. Secret Service has him en route to the hospital. I’m assuming George Washington.”

Dunnett picked up a phone and called Yvonne.

“Director Dunnett?”

“Hello, Yvonne. Bad news. It’s Lee. There was an attack on the White House. He’s hurt—bad.”

She was silent, then took a breath. “Where is he?”

“Secret Service has him. Probably en route to George Washington Hospital. That’s all I know.”

“I’ll find him and call you back.” Her voice was tight, controlled—but sharp with fear.

The line went dead. The second call might be trickier.

Tommy.

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler. Texas.

My cell rang while I was out for a run with Alfie. I stopped and tried to catch my breath before I answered.

“Hey, Granddad. Happy Thanksgiving. I thought you were coming to Blacky’s house for turkey.”

“Couldn’t make it, son. I needed to be here for several reasons. None of them good enough to prevent me from being with my family. I have some upsetting news for you.”

“Like what? The Russians blew themselves up? I wouldn’t be upset by that.”

“Nothing so elevating. Lee has been hurt in an attack on the White House.”

“What? I didn’t hear about it.”

“Nobody knows yet, son. It just happened minutes ago.”

“I’m coming.”

“Thank you, son. I need you here.”

“I’ll call for a flight.”

“That will take too long. Go to Austin-Bergstrom and I’ll have you picked up.”

“I can be there in an hour.”

Quantrall Ranch. Giddings.

Jesse was enjoying being home for the holiday weekend and not looking forward to going back to Washington on Sunday. He sat in the great room with a coffee and the latest edition of the Statesman, catching up on the news from his home state.

His cell rang and he wanted to ignore it, but couldn’t, his sense of duty being so strong.

Vice President Walsh.

Shit. Can’t be good.

He set down his coffee and paper. “Quantrall.”

“Morning, Jesse. I have bad news. Someone attacked the White House, and Lee was hurt. Badly. Probably at the hospital by now.”

Jesse jumped out of his chair. “What? How bad?”

“We don’t know much, but the Secret Service on-site said it was horrific. He’s probably in surgery by now. Hate to do this, but I need you back here on the double.”

“Of course, I’ll come right away.”

“Dunnett has a military plane at Austin-Bergstrom picking up Marshal Donovan. Leaves in an hour.”

“I’ll meet him there.”

“Appreciate it, Jesse. I need you with me.”

“Understood.” He hung up, already moving.

Vacation over.

George Washington University Hospital. D.C.

Yvonne’s driver dropped her off at the front entrance of the hospital, and the lobby was already seething with reporters and cameramen and talking heads with mics in their hands. They milled about waiting for some newsworthy person to pounce on.

Recognizing Yvonne, they mobbed her as she walked through the door. Three of the female news bitches shoved mics in her face at the same time.

“Get away from her,” said Roy in his tiny voice. “She’s not well.”

“Major Harrison, you must know what happened to the President. The nation is eager to hear your comments at this time.”

“I don’t know what happened. Not yet, but I’m going to find out if you’ll let me pass.”

Yvonne motioned one of the security guards over and flashed her credentials. “Remove all of the media from the lobby. If you can’t handle it, I’ll have the army do it.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll make them wait outside.”

“Thank you.”

The reporters protested loudly when the guards moved in and herded them to the exit.

In the elevator, Yvonne decided the MPs were indeed a good idea and called Fort Meade.

The president was on the lower level in surgery and that particular waiting area was crammed with people. Most of them reporters pretending to be family members of patients.

Yvonne went to the nurses’ station, showed her credentials and made her inquiry. “I’m Major Harrison, President Armstrong’s Chief Advisor. Could you tell me how he’s doing?”

“I’m sorry, Major. None of us know that yet. Doctor Halewood is still in there with the president.”

“What was the preliminary assessment when he came in?”

The nurse shook her head. “I’m sorry, Major. That’s confidential.”

Yvonne exhaled hard. Her patience was gone. “I advise you to rethink that answer. This is the President of the United States.”

“I understand, ma’am, but unless you’re family—”

“This is frustrating,” said Yvonne. “When Doctor Halewood is available, I’d like a word. Tell him Major Harrison is looking for him.”

“I’ll tell her.”

“Excuse me. Her.”

Yvonne turned away from the desk and took Roy’s arm. Come on, sweetie, let’s get coffee before I lose my mind.”

Austin-Bergstrom Airport. Texas.

I called Blacky on my drive into the city, cleared it with him and picked Lukas up on the way to the airport.

As we loaded our gear, Jesse showed up.

“Hey boys. Looks like our weekend got cut short. I’ll be riding back with you guys.”

“Sure, boss. Let me take your bag.”

“Thanks, Tommy.” He grinned. “How you doing, Lukas?”

“Not bad, sir.” They shook hands.

The pilot and crew were ready for us when we boarded. “Mister Secretary, pleasure to have you on board. We’ll get you to D.C. as quickly and as smoothly as possible.”

“Thanks, guys,” said Jesse. “Appreciate the ride. I’m not a fan of airports.”

“Good copy, boss.” I gave Jesse a fist bump and tried to settle my heartrate down. Somebody tried to blow Lee off the face of the fuckin’ earth and they almost succeeded.

My first guess is the fuckin’ Iranians. Those bastards will try anything. Goddamned Ayatollah.

We buckled up and the plane took off. No waiting and no security demonstration. We were the only passengers, and we were on our lunch for our own fuckin’ safety.

I couldn’t sleep. I had thinking to do.

Joint Base Andrews. Maryland.

Granddad had a Jeep waiting to pick me and Lukas up. The driver was from Fort Meade and a guy I already knew. Sergeant Billy French.

“Good to see you again, man. You remember my brother, Lukas. Jesse, meet Sergeant Billy French. We’ve worked together before.”

Billy extended his hand with a grin. “Mister Secretary, a pleasure, sir.”

“Likewise, Billy. Thanks for your service.”

I turned to Jesse. “You good for a ride?”

“I’m covered, thanks. My driver’s here.”

We tossed our gear into the back of the Jeep.

“Hey, Billy. You get that beer with my cousin Neil in Baltimore?”

He grinned. “Sure did. Best night of my fuckin’ life. He’s a great kid and what a player. We had ourselves a time that night after the game. One I’ll never forget.”

“Happy for you, man. Now you’re stuck with me. How long do I have you for?”

“Long as you need. I’m assigned to you until further notice. You here for the big thing?”

“We are,” I glanced over at Jesse, his silence saying what needed to be said. We all felt the heaviness of what was coming.

As Jesse’s driver loaded his bags in the trunk, Jesse walked back over. Are you going to the hospital first?”

“No point. Lee’s still in surgery, so we’ll check the scene first. Grab some grub after. As soon as Lee’s awake, we’ll head to the hospital.”

Jesse nodded. “Understood. I’m on my way to meet with Nate Walsh. Why don’t you boys come by the townhouse after.  We’ll grab a few cold ones and swap intel. Gotta stay on top of this mess.”

“Good copy, boss. We’ll be over later on.”

Billy grinned as he opened the hatch of the Jeep and tossed our luggage in. “I’m gonna be drinking with the Sec of State. Hot damn, Tommy. We’ll have ourselves a time.”

White House. Washington. D.C.

Billy drove us to Pennsylvania Avenue, cleared us at the guardhouse and parked where he was supposed to park.

We carried our luggage inside, left it by the elevator and the three of us went to see the damage to the Colonnade firsthand.

Caution tape everywhere. The explosion had cracked the columns, and the roof was unstable, threatening to collapse at any moment. On the far side of the high fence, the FBI’s forensic team combed the area, gathering tiny fragments of the bomb. The sidewalk was a mix of citizens and press, but what caught my eye was the makeshift memorial: flowers and gifts piled high, left by those hoping for the President’s recovery. The stores were probably sold out of teddy bears.

“Jesus,” said Lukas. “Look at all the fuckin’ people just standing out there.”

“A lot of them love their president,” said Billy. “Most citizens are more patriotic than you’d think.”

We walked across the grass to get close to the scene and an agent wearing an FBI jacket stopped us and checked our creds.

The guys from the FBI terrorist squad—forensics unit—were digging in the dirt. They were looking for frags and treasuring the tiniest pieces of metal that belonged to the device. Bagging every bit hoping to come up with answers.

A huge pile of crap in the colonnade still to be checked, and I figured most of it had been on top of Lee when the dust settled.

“Who are you?” a suited FBI agent asked, glaring at me.

I raised an eyebrow. “You first.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed my arm. “Piss off, smart ass. Get out of here, kid.”

Lukas took a step forward.

“Afraid I can’t do that,” I said, pulling away. He started to muscle me out of the way and Lukas tried to step between us. I pulled out my creds. When he saw the seal on my badge, he backed off, still annoyed.

“Apologies, Marshal Donovan. We haven’t discovered anything yet. Any help would be appreciated.”

“See what I can find out,” I said, reading his name tag. “Agent Dawson. I’ll be in touch.”

On the way upstairs to the residence, Billy asked, “Do you think all that broken concrete ended up on the president?”

“We’ll find out when we get to the hospital. I’m dreading how fuckin’ bad the damage is gonna be. Lee ain’t that strong and he’s had a couple of minor heart incidents.”

I knocked and Daniel let us in. “Daniel. Director Dunnett sent for me. Okay if I crash here?”

“Of course Tommy,” he said with a warm smile. “A dreadful turn of events for all of us.”

“Two beers and we’re going to the hospital. Have you heard anything new?”

“No. I called and asked Major Harrison to advise me, but she hasn’t been in touch.”

“I’ll see her at the hospital and remind her to call you.”

“Thank you. I’ll let June and Emily know you’re here. I’m sure they’ll be delighted.”

“Thanks, Daniel. This is like my second home.”

We sat in the living room close to the bar and drank a few cold ones before we went to the hospital and faced the crush of reporters.

“I’m happy just to sit here and think about where I’m drinking this beer,” said Billy. “Never thought it would happen to me.”

I laughed at Billy. “One more and we have to go to the hospital. Don’t want to think about it. For certain, the media hounds will be waiting there like hungry hyenas. We might have to beat them off with a fuckin’ stick.”

Lukas grinned at the thought of it. “I call first swing.”

George Washington University Hospital. D.C.

Wasn’t as bad as I thought. The press were all outside the hospital standing in a cordoned off area the army had provided for them.

Thanks, Yvonne.

Confinement didn’t stop them from shouting out questions as we went through the front entrance.

“Press wasn’t that bad,” said Lukas.

“Army has control of them. Yvonne must be here.”

A worried look crossed Lukas’ face. “Ya think?”

I shrugged. “You don’t have to talk to her.”

“No, but I have to see her and be in the same room as her, bro. I’m not sure I can do that.”

“Hang in the cafeteria and drink coffee.”

“Yeah, could do.”

Yvonne was in the intensive care waiting room along with Dan Black and several other suits when we got there. Lukas turned and wheeled out.

I gave Vonnie a hug. “You seen him yet?”

“No, none of us have,” she said.

“They won’t let anybody in,” said Dan. “You go to the scene?”

“Yeah, just came from there. Tell me exactly what happened, Dan.”

Dan ran his fingers through his hair, the worry evident on his face. “Black Friday and hardly anybody was working. He wanted to go to the office while it was quiet. We were walking along the Colonnade, me on the phone shadowing him. The thing came out of nowhere. I was talking to…can’t remember who and didn’t hear it. Didn’t even see it land.”

“Any of the great brains figure out the trajectory yet?” I asked.

Dan shook his head. “Not yet, but no doubt they’re working on it.”

“Tell them to hurry the fuck up. I want to know where the hell it came from.”

Dan sighed, remembering the experience. “Came from over the fence, but that distance is too far for a toss. Had to be mechanical.”

“Fuckin’ homemade launcher.”

Dan nodded. “Could’ve been.”

“I’ve got to get in there to talk to him.”

Dan shook his head. “I tried. No dice.”

“I’m gonna give it a shot.”

“Go for it, Tommy.”

I tried to sound casual and friendly as I learned on the nurses’ station and gave the nurses the old dumb Texan grin. “I’m the president’s bodyguard, and I need to get in to see him for five minutes.”

“No visitors. He’s not awake.”

“I’m not a visitor. I’m protecting his life, and I have to see the damage for myself to see what I’m dealing with. Don’t matter if he’s awake or not. You can come with me.”

She shook her head. “You can’t see him unless you are family.”

Bingo.

“I’m his son.”

“I don’t believe you. The president doesn’t have a son.”

“Oh, no?” I pulled out my phone and showed her pictures of me and Lee and Linc. “My son, Lincoln. We’re a family.”

She teared up and that’s what I was counting on. “Two minutes.”

Thanks, Linc.

“Come with me, ma’am. You can help. I want to see his body, a full scope of the injuries.”

Lee was in that huge intensive care suite where he’d been once before. The fancy one for presidents and celebrities. A nurse watchdog was on duty in there with him all the time.

The huge bandage around his head was the one that scared me the most. “Can you talk about the damage to his head?”

“Tests have been scheduled for tomorrow. That’s all I know about the head injury.”

“Damn it. I need a meeting with the doctor. What’s his name?”

“Her name is Doctor Halewood.”

“Lady surgeon?”

“Yes.”

“When you talk to her, would you set up an appointment for me and call?” I gave her one of my DOJ cards from my assortment.

“Department of Justice. I’ll call you Marshal Donovan.”

“Thank you. I’ll be here for a while.”

Back to the waiting area and all heads were turned watching Walsh up there on the flatscreen telling the world that the president was out of surgery and in recovery, and he was once again temporarily in charge.

I shook my head then sat down next to Yvonne. “You’re up, Vonnie. You’ve got to keep your thumb on Walsh and a handle on the Oval Office.”

“I’ll try, Tommy. I wasn’t planning on working until Monday.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, babe. You know I love you, right?”

She managed a smile. “I know, Tommy.”

“You’re my eyes and ears in the White House. No one better.”

Lukas returned with coffee containers, and I noticed Yvonne wouldn’t look in his direction. He noticed her sitting with me and sat on the other side of the room.

Shit. He won’t bring my coffee over here because of Yvonne. Goddammit, Lukas.

Next addition to the waiting area was Lana Stoner. She walked in, looked around, didn’t recognize anybody but me, and was about to leave when I stood up and spoke to her.

“Talk to you for a sec, Director Stoner?”

“Yeah, sure, Marshal Donovan.” Stoner gave me her best fake grin. “We can talk in the corridor.”

We stood at the end of the hall near the stairwell exit. “Did you get in to see him, Marshal?”

“For a couple of minutes only with a nurse. I wanted to assess the severity of his injuries for a couple of reasons.”

“I understand. You needed to know if they meant to kill him or just disable him.”

I nodded. “Are you getting any chatter? If you are, I need to know which field offices are picking up the data.”

She stared and didn’t answer.

“Okay. Not willing to share. You don’t have to tell me anything. I can get what I need from the NSA or from the street. I’m not as dumb as I fuckin’ look, girl.”

“Don’t call me that.” She sneered at me revealing the granite in her face and the anger in her eyes.

“Girl is offensive now? Nothing I say is politically correct—been called white trash all my life—so you can fuckin’ deal with it or don’t talk to me.

“I’ll take the second option.”

“Why don’t you do that? You seeing Lee? I told him to give you a shot but that was probably a mistake.”

Her dark eyes widened. “I don’t believe you.”

I shrugged. “Believe whatever the fuck you want. I’ve got bigger worries than who the boss is screwing. I’ve got to find out which fuckin’ country tried to knock him off, and I’ve got to do it fast. You don’t want to help me, then screw you, Lana-girl.”

“What makes you think it’s your job, Donovan?”

“You see anybody else doing it? Lots of alphabets will be putting on a big show, but they’re all fuckin’ liars, and the one starting with the letter ‘C’ is the biggest liar of all.”

“You’d better watch what you’re saying, Marshal.”

“Why? You think you can scare me off?”

“Are you threatening me, Marshal?”

“I’m telling you it would be in the best interest of the CIA to help me find out who is trying to kill our president. If you don’t think that’s important enough to get your full attention, then you shouldn’t be the new director.”

“Not much you can do about it. The president gave the job to me, and I’m already sworn in.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Lana-girl. There’s lots I can do. Think I’ll start doing it right now.”

I walked back to the waiting area and Lukas was leaning on the door frame with my coffee in his hand. “Whoever that babe is, I think you pissed her off.”

“New director of the CIA and I’m pretty sure she’s screwing Lee.”

Lukas smirked. “Or screwing him over.”

“Yeah, that’s a bigger worry.”

Farrington Residence. Georgetown. D.C.

Billy drove us to Georgetown and on the way over the boys wanted to know how the boss looked when I got into his room—injury wise.

“The nurse pulled back the covers for me to have a peek and the bruising is starting to come out. He’ll be black and blue from the neck down. Casts on both legs and one arm, and a huge bandage around his head. Nobody told me what the surgery was for but I’m waiting on a call from the lady doctor.”

“I’d be most worried about the head injury,” said Lukas.

“Copy that, bro. That’s the one that scares me and could take him out of action the longest.”

Jesse was happy to see us and welcomed us in. He was ready with beer and snacks. “Hey, I’m glad you guys came over. I don’t know anybody in this town and I’m glad of the company.”

“This is a beautiful townhouse, boss.” I glanced at all the expensive-looking pictures on the walls.

“On loan from Annie. Without her generosity, I’d be sleeping in a ditch somewhere.”

Billy laughed.

“She prefers to have me stay here than letting it sit empty. The place is filled with Jack Farrington’s priceless artwork.”

“I didn’t remember Annie having a townhouse in D.C.”

How did I not know about this place? I know damned near everything about Annie. I have to put her out of my head and focus on the problem facing me.

I stepped away from the crowd needing a moment to myself. “I’m going to call Kamps, give him what we have and get him started, boss.”

“You’ll need a place to begin in the morning, Tommy,” said Jesse. “Kamps might find that piece of the puzzle for y’all.”

“Hope he does.”

“Where are you guys sleeping?”

“At Lee’s place. Daniel said we could crash there. I’ve stayed there so much, I have my own room.” I laughed.

Billy chuckled. “Be a first for me. I’ve never crashed in the president’s quarters before.”

“Food is good there,” I said. “I’ll introduce you to Emily, the chef in the kitchen. She’s a looker, Billy, and she can cook like nobody’s business.”

“My kind of woman.”

“Mine too.” Jesse patted his mid-section.

We had a couple more beers with Jesse, then we had to go. Billy drove us back to the White House.

Vipond Residence. Washington. D.C.

Ben Vipond turned off the TV and tossed the remote on the sofa. The end of another lonely holiday and he wasn’t looking forward to the entire weekend sitting at home alone watching football before he could go back to work.

Ben sighed as he walked to the front door to lock up for the night and set the alarm. The bell rang as he approached the foyer and scared the bejesus out of him. He opened the door a crack, saw Lana Stoner standing there and let her in.

“Got any coffee?”

She brushed past him and a whiff of her perfume made him a little light-headed.

Gotta stay in control.

“Might be half a pot. Why are you here? I thought you’d be at the hospital mooning over your latest boy toy.”

“Been there. Done that.”

She forged into the kitchen and took a mug out of the correct cupboard. “You joining me?” Didn’t wait for an answer and filled two mugs.

“Might as well. You seem to be staying.”

“I don’t like Donovan messing around in D.C.”

“He’s here for a reason. Don’t you want to know who attacked Armstrong?”

I owe him for giving me a second chance.

“Course, I want to know. I’ve got my people all over the world looking into it.”

“Our people,” Ben corrected.

“Yeah, our people.”

“Was Donovan at the hospital?” asked Ben.

“Yep. He was there with a guy who looked a lot like him and a soldier in uniform.”

“Huh. Dunnett probably summoned his favorite asset from the great State of Texas and arranged a driver for him from Fort Meade.”

“You seem to know a lot about it,” said Lana. She sipped her coffee and made a face. “This tastes like sludge.”

“Wouldn’t know. Never drank sludge, baby.”

Lana hopped up and poured her coffee down the sink, then emptied the rest of the pot and rinsed it.

Ben pushed his mug away. “I’m tired. Are you sleeping over?”

Lana shrugged. “Might as well.”

Ben laughed. “It’s not like you have anything better to do.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is you came here the moment your current mark is out of commission, and you don’t seem the least bit worried about who attacked him.”

Lana shrugged, then sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Of course, I’m worried, but it’s nighttime, and I want to relax and enjoy myself. It’s been a hard day. We’ll get back at it in the morning.”

She playfully bit Ben’s bottom lip, then stood and walked away, unbuttoning her blouse.

“Was that what you call foreplay?”

She gave him the finger.

Ben sighed, resigned to his fate. He caught up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Who’s your daddy?”

Chapter Eighteen

Saturday, November 30th.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Me and Lucas and Billy ate in the dining room, and it was weird sitting at the long table with Lee’s chair empty.

Emily knew I was staying here, and she sent up the breakfast burritos to die for along with a basket of her raspberry turnovers.

“I can’t believe I’m eating in the president’s dining room,” said Billy. “It’s like one of the crazy dreams I have when I pass out really fuckin’ drunk.”

Lukas laughed. “You dream of dining rooms when you’re drunk? Me, I dream of girls.”

Lukas don’t talk much, and we all howled at his joke.

When June and her helper served our breakfast, she relayed the message that Emily wanted to see me.

“I’ll come down right after breakfast, June.”

She smiled. “So good to have you back home, Tommy. The president misses you so much when you’re away.”

I’m glad somebody misses me. I want somebody else to miss me real bad.

We finished our coffee, and I took Lukas and Billy on a tour, and we ended up down in the kitchen. After I finished hugging and kissing Emily, I introduced her to Lukas and Billy.

I could tell right off that Billy was taken with her. Cute blonde girl with big blue eyes who could make the ass-end of a skunk taste like prime rib.

When we went back upstairs, the boys drank more coffee while I called Kamps to see what he came up with overnight. “Did you talk to Speedy?”

“Yeah. He’s short on cash and dove into it with a couple of guys he knows. He’s got something for y’all, but you have to pay him first.”

“Where’s he at?”

“He’ll meet y’all at noon at the dive bar where he hangs. Last Call. I think it’s downtown, but you can ask the GPS.”

“Great. We’ll be on time. How much cash should I take?”

“From the way he talked, I think it’s big and he might’ve had to lay out a few bills to get the word from other sources. He’ll want his outlay back, plus what the word is worth on the street. I’m thinking between five and a thou.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure I have a couple thousand on me just in case.”

“I’ll keep working on it, Tommy. I’ve got feelers out all over the world, particularly in places that are the most likely sources.”

“Yeah, we know who those are, bud. We can’t rule any of the usual suspects out.”

Vipond Residence. Foggy Bottom. D.C.

Stoner pushed back the duvet and headed for the ensuite. She didn’t mean to wake Ben up but that was a fail. He was a light sleeper—if he slept at all.

“Why are you up so early?”

“I have to go home, shower, change my clothes and go to the hospital. I can’t wear the same clothes I had on yesterday.”

“Why not? I wear the same suit to work more than one day.”

“Donovan will call me on it, and he’ll know I didn’t go home. That kid looks right through you, and he’s rude as hell. Has no respect for anybody. Yesterday, I thought he might be reading my mind.”

“So what? Were you thinking evil thoughts?”

“I was about him. He’s a danger to himself and others.” She laughed. “No respect for anyone in authority.”

“I noticed he has a problem with authority, but only if you lord it over him. Lot of folks pretty high on him, and you’re right about him being dangerous. He looks like a cute kid, but he’s deadly. Don’t go stirring up anything you can’t handle.”

“I can handle Donovan.”

“You may think so, but as your consultant I’m advising you to leave him alone.”

Ben sat on the side of the bed, checked his messages and watched Lana put her clothes on. “I don’t want to be alone all day today. I’ll come to the hospital with you.”

“You’re kidding. We never go out in public together.”

“I’m calling it a national emergency. We’ve got a lot to talk about. We’ll see what’s up with Number One, then I’ll take you to lunch somewhere nice.”

“Bribery always works with me. Where can we have lunch?”

“Umm…let’s see what I can afford.” He laughed.

“Everybody knows you’re loaded. I like Tonari.”

“I’ll see if I can get a reservation,” said Ben. “I’d better wear deodorant and a clean shirt.”

“You’d better take a shower first.”

Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.

“Hey, Mom. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, honey. Why are you asking me that?”

“Some bad news about Lee Armstrong and I didn’t know if you were up to anymore stress.”

“I haven’t watched the news in a couple of days. I’ve been busy at the store with Black Friday sales, and at Boots at night. The roadhouse has been crazy busy over the holidays. What’s wrong with Lee?”

“From Granddad’s version of the story, someone launched a bomb-type device from outside the White House grounds. Lee was walking through the Colonnade towards the West Wing when they fired the thing, and it hit close enough to almost kill him.”

“Sweet Baby Jesus.”

“Where’s Tommy?”

“Granddad sent a plane for him. He’s in D.C. with Lukas. Jesse returned early too.”

“There’s nothing you can do, Mom.”

“You’re wrong, honey. There’s a lot I can do and my faith in Walsh after the last incident isn’t strong.”

“Let me know if I can help you.”

“I will, sugar.”

Annie ran to the garage where Mateo was working on the bikes with Mick. “Mateo, can we talk for a moment?”

“Si.”

She explained what had happened and Mateo shook his head. “We agreed we are retired from our previous lives, mi amor.”

“Yes, we did. You’re right, sweetheart.”

Annie ran inside, locked herself in her bathroom and called Jesse.

George Washington University Hospital. D.C.

The reporters and cameramen kept their vigil in their designated spot at the hospital and that made me smile. Not much else to smile about heading inside.

I called the nurses’ station as soon as I got up and verified that Lee was still alive. That was the only positive thing I was going on.

The rest of the day I’d be facing lying politicians and terrorists trying to destroy our country and media hounds spreading fake news and blowing every detail up ten times its size.

“You okay, bro?” Lukas asked as we crossed the lobby to the elevators.

“Yeah. I’m not great at the Cap. Hate the lying politicians and the power people in this city. Makes me kind of crazy. I’m better when I have some space around me.”

“Soon be time for you to quit and stay in Texas,” said Lukas. “I can see it in your face that you’re nearly done with it. You and me both.”

We stepped off the elevator on the floor where they had Lee hooked up and we were faced with a big cordoned off area where the FBI manned a temporary station and checked IDs.

Fuckin’ hall monitors.

We handed the FBI chick our creds and she scanned them.

“Marshal Donovan. And this is Ranger Lukas Donovan and Seargent Billy French.  You are all cleared to be on this floor.”

“Thanks.”

“Go ahead.” She handed back our IDs and we moved into the waiting area. Interesting to see who was hanging around today. What exactly were they waiting for?

“Vice President Walsh, nice to see you, sir.” I shook his hand.

“Marshal Donovan. Do you have any new information to share?”

“No, but I have a meeting at noon and there may be something. I’ll let you know.”

“Meeting with whom, Marshal?”

“Confidential informant, sir.”

“What’s his name?”

I smirked. “Wouldn’t be confidential if I told you, would it?”

Walsh looked at me like I had onion breath. “Fair enough. By the way, remind me who you’re working for, Marshal.” The VP looked a little puzzled.

I’ve seen that fuckin’ look before. Someone’s trying to swing his dick around.

“Director Dunnett is my current boss, sir.”

Walsh gave me his ferret face look that I didn’t like, and I figured when he took over I wouldn’t be working for anybody.

That’s where you’re wrong, Nate buddy.

I went back to the nurses’ station to see if I could get in to see the boss, and I had to wait for the doctor to come out of his room.

She walked out with Dan Black, and I figured I could get the same information from Dan as from the doctor in half the time.

I corralled Dan farther down the hall and he filled me in.

“What’s the doc saying this morning?”

“He’s doing better but it’s the head injury she’s most concerned with.”

“Yeah, me too. He been awake?”

“Not when I was in there,” said Dan. “Go ahead. They’ll kick you out after two or three minutes.”

“Thanks, guess I’ll be out shortly.”

I sat down next to Lee’s bed and listened to the machines he was hooked up to. “Come on, Lee. Open your eyes. I need to talk to you.”

“He’s unconscious,” said the watchdog nurse behind me. She used her best bitchy tone.

“I know ma’am.” Ignoring her, I kept going. “Come on, Lee. It’s me, Tommy. You want to talk to me. I know you do. Wake up.”

He groaned, but it was a low sound I almost missed. Nurse bitchy watchdog didn’t miss it. She was instantly on her feet checking the monitors.

“He’s responding. Keep talking to him.”

“Jesus, Lee. I fly all the fuckin’ way out here to talk to you, and you’re not gonna wake up? Come on, man. I haven’t got all day to sit here and wait. Open your eyes, or I’m going back to your place to drink all your beer.”

I swear I saw his baby finger flicker. When I looked at the nurse, she nodded, so I leaned over and touched his hand.

His eyes fluttered open.

“Hey, boss. Welcome back.”

He stared at nothing for a good minute before he tried to talk. “Tommy… I don’t… know…”

“He knows you,” whispered the nurse. “That’s excellent. I’ll get Doctor Halewood.”

“You don’t know what happened, boss. That’s okay. We’ll figure it out when you’re better.”

“Tommy… please.”

“I’ve got you, boss. I’m here.”

The door of the room opened and in rushed the lady doctor with watchdog nurse. “I heard the good news.” Big smile. “My patient is awake.”

She gave me an arm motion that meant beat it, and I got out of her way.

When I returned to the waiting area, Stoner was there sitting next to Ben Vipond and right away I sensed something between them.

Stoner screws her way around this city.

“Director Stoner, Mister Vipond.”

Ben stood up and shook my hand. “Marshal, nice to see you again.”

“Really? Not long ago, you were fine if I was dead.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Marshal.”

“Fuckin’ right, you do.”

Ben backed away.

“Who’s this?” asked Stoner. “He looks a lot like you, Marshal Donovan.”

“My brother, Ranger Lukas Donovan. Texas gang squad.”

“Impressive.”

Lukas gave her Stoner an icy glare.

“Is the president awake?” asked Vipond. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s awake. Said a couple of words to me. The doctor is with him now.”

“Excellent,” said Walsh, who was eavesdropping on our conversation.

I was about to leave when Ted Armstrong walked in. I ran across the room and hugged him. “Ted, you’re here. Perfect timing. Lee woke up a minute ago.”

“Thank God, Tommy. I’ve been so worried.”

“He’ll be so fuckin’ glad to see you, Ted.”

“Can I see him now?”

“Let’s go see if the doc will let you in.”

I opened the door of Lee’s room, and the guard nurse posted there shook her head.

“The president’s brother has arrived from West Texas. Can he wait in here?”

The nurse pointed at one of the easy chairs.

“You’re all set, Ted. We’re staying at the residence. Come sleep there with us.”

“Thanks, Tommy. I tied Stretch outside. One of the security guards is watching him.”

“I’ll take him with us. Don’t worry about him.”

“Appreciate it. I didn’t know what to do with him.”

On the way to the Jeep, we picked up Stretch from the guard and he knew me right away. “Come on, boy. We’re going for a ride downtown.”

The huge black and tan wagged his tail and trotted along beside me. “This is Stretch Armstrong.”

Billy chuckled. “This gets better all the time. I love dogs but never had one riding in my Jeep.”

“Stretch likes to ride with his head out the window, same as Alfie does.”

Last Call Dive Bar. Downtown D.C.

The manager was just opening up when we got to the door of the bar. “Hey, you guys are early. Come on in and grab a table.”

“We’re meeting Speedy,” I said.

The guy laughed. “He’ll be along. This is his headquarters. Don’t know where the kid lives but this is his second home.”

The bartender brought us a pitcher and three fairly clean glasses. We were on our second round when Speedy showed up.

He eyed Billy’s uniform before he committed to sitting in the booth with us. “Billy’s on our team, Speedy. He’s one of the good guys.”

Speedy was a little guy with wild eyes and a rat’s nest of dark hair. Worn leather jacket, torn jeans and red high-tops. The shoes looked new.

“What are you drinking, Speedy?” I asked.

Speedy’s wild-eyed gaze kept flitting to Billy’s uniform. “Umm…I’ll have a shot of Don Angel if you’re buying.”

“Sure.” I waved over the kid with a tray in his hand. Looked like he might be a waiter. “Can we have a round of tequila shots? Don Angel if you have it.”

“I’ll check. I think that’s regular stock.”

Billy chuckled. “I don’t usually do tequila shots at noon, but I’m easy.”

After the drinks were delivered and the waiter kid buzzed off I asked Speedy what info he had for me.

He glanced at Billy and Lukas, and I tilted my head in my brother’s direction. Lukas took Billy for a stroll around the bar while Speedy unloaded the goods.

Leaning in close, Speedy whispered so fuckin’ low I could barely hear him. “Russian hitter, Lenin Yakov is here in D.C.” He passed me a dirty, torn piece of a smoke pack with the name on it. Under the name was a price. Speedy tapped a finger on the number. “I paid that money for the name.”

“Got it. Kamps said you might have to pay heavy for it.” If I believed Speedy, he’d paid his source three-fifty. I pulled out my wallet and counted out eight-fifty and pushed it across to him.”

He nodded, wadded the money up and shoved it in his pocket. “Thanks.”

“Keep working on a location and I’m good for it. Your source give you any hints where this guy was?”

“Nope. Said he was here in the city. That’s it.”

“If his job was done why would he still be here?”

“Don’t know that, bossman,” said Speedy.

“You want some lunch before you go?”

He grinned. “I could eat.”

“Me too. I’m fuckin’ starved.”

I waved the boys back to the table and we ordered burgers and fries and another pitcher. No Texas beer here so made do with Coors.

NSA Headquarters. Fort Meade. Maryland.

“Speedy come through for you, bro?” asked Lukas as Billy drove us to Fort Meade.

“He paid for a name from another street guy, and it sounds good to me. Granddad will know more about it. I’ll talk to Kamps too and put him on it. We need a location. Speedy says the guy is still in the city.”

“He’d be in the fuckin’ wind if his job was done,” snapped Lukas. “I don’t like the sounds of him hanging around.”

“Same. If he ain’t gone, it’s worrisome.”

On the top floor of the NSA building, we had to wait for Cassidy, Deputy Director, to come out of the boss’s office before we could go in.

As soon as Cassidy left, we went in and closed the door behind us. Dunnett glanced up and smiled. “Tommy, wonderful to see you, son. You too, Lukas. It’s been a while.”

“Yes, sir. Nice to see you too.”

“And this is Sergeant French if I’m not mistaken,” said Dunnett. “How is your assignment going, son?”

“The best, sir.” Billy grinned. “Best I’ve had.”

“Good. Let’s talk about the problem at hand, boys, and it’s a big one.”

“Let’s start with the name Lenin Yakov, Granddad. Russian hitter who’s in the city.”

“And you know this how?”

“One of Kamps’ people.”

“Fair enough. You paid for the information?”

“Eight-fifty.”

Another nod. “Reasonable. I’ll put people on it right away and narrow down a location for you. Excellent work.”

“You hear anything else?” I asked.

“I’ve been listening for a certain faction to claim the damage to our president and there’s been nothing. The world has gone strangely silent.”

“What’s that mean if nobody is saying fuck-all?” I asked. “Does it mean the job ain’t done? That’s what I’m feeling, Granddad. That there’s more coming.”

“I’d hate to think that were true, Tommy, but terrorists are usually quick to claim their actions. They boast about little victories over the infidels.”

Dunnett picked up his phone. “Commander Ingram, I need another unit assigned to Marshal Donovan. Four men with a full arsenal. Humvee if you have it. Yes. Thank you. Have them wait in the parking lot of my building. Appreciate it, sir.”

Billy rolled his eyes and said nothing.

“We getting company?”

Dunnett smiled. “We’re going to stir things up, Tommy. Best to be ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

Granddad walked us out to the elevator. “Watch your back, son. The enemy can take many forms.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Cottonwood Club. Downtown. D.C.

“What a fuckin’ shit day.” I held the employee door open for Lukas and the load of fuckin’ soldiers we were toting around the city.

Mister Allman hustled down the hall to see the crowd of people coming in the back door. “Oh, Tommy, it’s you. Are all these fellas with you?”

“Yes, sir. Think we can squeeze them in?”

“Of course. Harry is just starting the second set. I’m sure he can fit you in for a few songs. How have you been?”

“I had a little crack on the head, and I was out of commission for a few weeks, but I’m better now.”

“Lukas, nice to see you too.” Mister Allman shook my brother’s hand and glanced at the cluster of soldiers. “We are well represented by the law and the military here tonight.” He laughed. “I’m afraid I don’t know your official titles, Tommy.”

“I’m a US Marshal, and Lukas is a Texas Ranger, but that’s for work. First names only here.”

Mister Allman had the servers set up a table for my soldiers and comped them a couple of pitchers. They seemed happy. Billy sat with Lukas at the band table while I went up on the stage and talked to Harry between songs.

We went over the playlist, I told him the new songs I’d learned, and he checked to see which ones the band could play without a rehearsal.

Once we were set, I had a beer with Billy and Lukas while I waited for my turn.

Harry gave me a signal that I was next.

“Showtime.”

“Can’t wait for this.” Billy was a bit drunk.

Harry stepped up to the mic. “We have a guest singer tonight. Some of you know him. Give it up for Tommy Donovan.”

A lot of girls screamed, and I felt better right away. I started with a Toby Keith song and belted out I Love this Bar, and that got them going.

Next I broke into All My Friends Say, a big hit for Luke Bryan.

The girls all ran up to the stage when I sang Leaving Louisiana in the Broad Daylight, and when I finished, I jumped down from the stage and talked to them. Some of them were wearing my T-shirts with my name plastered across their chests. That made me laugh because they didn’t know I was coming tonight. I relaxed at the band table and Lukas refilled my glass. “I feel a helluva lot better now.”

“I can’t fuckin’ believe how good you can play that guitar, Tommy. You’re a goddamned superstar.”

I laughed. “Thanks, Billy. Helps my stress level so fuckin’ much when I can belt out a few songs and play my guitar like a wildman.”

At two in the morning, we closed the club and said our goodnights and headed out to the parking lot. The customers had gone, and I told Mister Allman I’d try to come again while I was in the city. He tried to pay me, and I wouldn’t take it. He never knew when I was coming, and it wasn’t fair.

The lot was nearly empty, but something felt off. My skin prickled and I glanced around. Saw nothing.

Billy unlocked the Jeep, and the other four MPs were heading for their Humvee when the shot buzzed by my head and nearly parted my hair.

Whizz.

I dove south, hit the asphalt. Felt the skin scrape off my arm as I rolled.

Bang.

Lukas fired before I’d even hit the ground. A muzzle flash flared in the second-story window next door, and then a shape slumped forward onto the windowsill.

The MPs must have done some tours, because they moved like they’d been shot out of a cannon, sprinting toward the building, weapons drawn. Less than a minute later, they were back, hauling a limp, cuffed shooter between them. His breathing was ragged, blood slicking his side where Lukas had tagged him.

One of the soldiers yanked out his ID and flicked on a flashlight. “Iranian passport. Name’s Anwar Hajma. Thirty-nine. Mashhad. Iran.”

Been there. Hated it.

“Shit,” I said. “We’d better call this in.”

“Nope,” said Major Lewicki. “We’re assigned to you, Marshal Donovan and this shooting falls under our jurisdiction. We’ll handle it.”

“Glad I rounded up some business for you guys.”

Lewicki didn’t even crack a smile.

He turned and pointed at Billy. “Sarge, you take the Marshal and his brother to the White House, and we’ll be along as soon as we clear the scene and secure the prisoner.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll drive, Billy.” He tossed me the keys. He enjoyed his night, and it was my turn to take care of him.

I let out a breath, climbed into the Jeep, and watched the MPs get to work. Their night wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Chapter Nineteen

Sunday, December 1st.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

As I walked into the hall, five soldiers walked in single file down the hallway, uniforms neat and tidy, boots shining and an easy confidence in their step.

“Y’all sleep okay?” I asked.

“The accommodations were more than adequate, Marshal. Thank you,” said Lewicki, grinning. “Never pictured myself having a sleepover in the Residence.”

“At the end of the day, it’s just a house, and he’s just a guy like you and me. He likes his beer cold, just like us.”

We had breakfast together in the dining room and discussed the attempt on me from the night before.

“The Iranians got a hate on for you, Marshal?” asked one of the soldiers.

“Iranians, Afghanis, South Americans—the list goes on. They don’t like it when I pop by their countries for a visit.”

“This attempt have anything to do with the attack on our president?” asked Lewicki. “I’m not asking for classified information, just your opinion.”

“Unrelated, in my opinion. Last night was all about me, and the attack on the White House was bigger and more political. Maybe even different fuckin’ countries. He gets blamed for everything, but a lot of times, he knows nothing about it.”

Ted wore a worried look as he put his fork down. “Are we close to finding out who that enemy is, Tommy?”

“Not close, Ted, but the investigation has a helluva lot of people working in it. NSA, CIA, FBI terrorist unit, Homeland and the DOJ. I’ll bet the State Department is looking too.”

“I’m sure the Pentagon is running their own investigation,” said Lewicki. “The DoD will be all over this.”

“I agree.”

June and her helper returned from the kitchen with more coffee, and more warm muffins and turnovers.

While the soldiers talked to Ted and Lukas, I went into the sitting room and called Kamps. Told him about the hitter trying for me at the club.

“An Iranian shooter tried for you?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting it, but I think Granddad was. He had a load of soldiers on me. After Lukas shot the guy, the soldiers rounded him up and got rid of him. He’s in a lockup somewhere in this city.” I told Kamps his name.

“Tell me his name again. Spell it.”

“A-N-W-A-R H-A-J-M-A.”

“I’ve got it down.”

“His passport said he was from Mashhad.”

“Okay, that gives me something to work with.”

“Got anything else on the Russian hitter?”

“Not yet, but all my guys in D.C. are looking for a big payday on that guy. When they find him, it’s gonna cost.”

“I think Granddad is good to cover the cost. He said as much yesterday.”

“How is Lee doing?”

“Awake but not much more. I don’t think he knows what happened to him. As soon as the device went off, Lee was out cold.”

“He didn’t have time to see anything?” asked Kamps.

“Nope. Not according to Dan Black. He was behind Lee in the Colonnade, and he didn’t see anything either.”

“Huh. Sounds well planned.”

“Yeah, a little too well planned to suite me. Walsh is still in charge and will be for a while yet. That bothers me too.”

“Yeah. You got worries. I’ll let you know the minute I get anything else on the Russian hitter.”

“Copy that.”

Farrington Residence. Georgetown. D.C.

Lynette didn’t work on the weekend and Jesse had coffee made and was at the stove frying a couple of eggs when Annie called. He turned off the pan and took her call.

“Hey, Ace. You okay?”

“I’m good, cowboy. Just calling for your assessment of the situation y’all are handling there.”

“Certainly isn’t good. Walsh is in control, and he may have been excellent as Speaker, but he’s a little shaky carrying the bigger load.”

“That’s what I was afraid of. Do you think I should show up? Could I help you?”

“You can definitely help me with a lot of things, and I’m sure Lee could use the support if you were here in person. I’m saying it would be worth the trip in a lot of ways, for both of us.”

“Okay, I’ll get things set here and call my pilot.”

“Will you stay with me?” Jesse laughed. “This is your house, Ace.”

“I will. Not sure if Mateo will be with me. I mentioned the possibility of a trip to him, and he was adamant I stay away from trouble.”

“Lots of room for both of you, although I’d rather have you all to myself.”

“Same.”

Smiling to himself, Jesse tossed the cold eggs into the compost and started over. He made more eggs and ate them with a couple of slices of toast and jam.

The bell rang and Tommy and the boys were there. Tommy had called and said they were coming over with an update.

“Hey, guys. Come in.” Jesse saw there were four more soldiers and grinned. “The more the merrier. I have coffee ready.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“Mister Secretary, Major Lewicki from Fort Meade at your service.” His hand shot out and Jesse shook it.

“Come in, Major. Does Marshal Donovan have a bigger problem than I’m aware of?”

“Yes, sir. A recent incident, sir.”

“Recent incident?”

“Yes, sir. An assassin took a shot at Marshal Donovan last night. Ranger Donovan returned fire. We placed the assailant into custody. Iranian citizen, sir.”

Jesse wanted all the details of the attempt on Tommy by the Iranian sniper. “Uh huh. I’m glad you weren’t hurt, Tommy, but the Ayatollah said as much in his public speech. He promised to play hardball with us.”

“Dammit, Jesse, I don’t need this shit right now. I’m trying to focus on Lee’s situation. I want to make sure he’s safe when they let him out of the hospital.”

“We’re all working towards that end, son. Mrs. Powell will be arriving this afternoon to lend a hand.”

Surprised by Jesse’s words, Tommy raised his voice unintentionally and shouted, “No. I don’t want her here.”

Jesse stared as Tommy stomped out into the backyard and lit up a smoke.

Lukas rolled his eyes.

Major Lewicki pointed and two soldiers followed Tommy into the yard.

To Jesse, the issue seemed obvious.  Tommy had too many distractions. His protection detail slowed him down, fighting the bureaucracy slowed his progress and now, Annie arriving. He’d feel compelled to keep her safe, eroding his focus further.

Jesse joined Tommy for a forbidden smoke.

Benton Crescent. Georgetown. D.C.

Yvonne sat down at the kitchen table to eat the poached eggs Roy had made for her. “Roy, I don’t know what to do now that Nate Walsh has taken over the Oval Office. He doesn’t seem to need me around and my job seems to have disappeared overnight.”

“It will all be okay when Lee gets out of the hospital, Yvonne.”

“What if he’s too damaged to come back to work? Then what?”

“I never thought about that. I guess if that were the case, the vice president would take over the Oval Office permanently.”

“Exactly, and where would that leave me? Or any of the current staff, for that matter.”

“Good question. It’s Sunday, so you don’t have to worry about the answer until tomorrow.”

“One day’s grace. Thanks, Roy. I’ll take it.”

Yvonne went upstairs to have a shower and Roy called Kamps to see how he was doing.

“Chet, is it okay to call you? I don’t want to make you mad at me again.”

“Hey, Roy. Sorry about yelling at you. I was so fuckin’ upset about the baby. Never felt so fuckin’ sad in my entire life. None of it was your fault. I want you to come home right away. I need you here.”

“I want to come home, Chet. Yvonne is healthy now and she’s going back to work tomorrow. I haven’t told her yet, but I’m thinking of flying to Texas.”

“I’ll get you a ticket and call you back. Might even be first class. I’m losing my mind all alone here, Roy.”

“Thanks. I don’t like it when we’re not talking. We’re family and I want to come home.”

“Halle-fuckin’-lujah.”

Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange. Texas.

After talking to Jesse, Annie decided to go to Washington to help where she could. She ran to the barn to find Mateo and he was up in the hayloft throwing bales.

She climbed the ladder, and he laughed when he saw her come up. “You have come to help me?”

Annie chuckled. “My hay-throwing days are behind me, my love. I came to tell you I need to go to Washington. Big things are happening, and I need to be there to help the president. It’s important that I go for a couple of days.”

“No, mi amor. I do not want you putting yourself in danger any longer. We talked about this many times and you agreed that you would retire if I gave up the club and moved to the ranch with you.”

“Yes, that has always been our pledge to each other and it’s not a question of wanting to go. I feel I must go for numerous reasons.”

“Is Tommy the reason for your trip?”

“No, he is not the reason. That is the truth.”

“Then if you must go, it is my duty as your husband to go with you.”

“Thank you, Mateo.” Annie kissed him. “I’ll call the pilot and tell him we’re coming to the airport in an hour.”

George Washington University Hospital. D.C.

With Lukas and my protection unit, I went back to see if Lee could talk a bit more and we took Ted with us. While Billy drove us through the ass-busting D.C. traffic, Ted told some funny mountain man stories and kept Billy amused.

We stepped off the elevator—all eight of us—and checked in with the FBI woman blocking the path to Lee’s room.

Once Major Lewicki and his team had been cleared, he and his men split up, cleared the floor and escorted me to Lee’s private room.

“Hey, boss. How’s today going?”

Lee’s bed was raised a little, propping his head up, but he was pale as a white paper plate where he wasn’t black and blue and swollen. What a fuckin’ mess. Never seen worse. He was lucky to be breathing.

I sat down next to the bed and spoke in a low voice so the nurse watchdog couldn’t hear us. “Anything you can tell me about the explosion, boss?”

“Are you looking for the source of the attack, son?”

“You bet. Think I’d sit this one out?”

“Of course not,” Lee said. “How’s your investigation progressing? Better than the FBI, I hope.”

I snorted, and Watchdog Nurse glanced my way. “Oh, I got more than the FBI, boss. I got the hitter’s name and where he’s stayin’.”

“How’d you get that? Mister Kamps?”

I nodded. “One of his street guys named Speedy. For just under a grand, I got his name and location. He’s a Russian hitter called Lenin Yakov.”

“The Russians,” said Lee, nodding, “which means this is about Colombia.”

“Yeah, and that’s on Vipond, boss. That was his op. I was just the tool.”

“Vipond insulated himself well, which is why I got caught in the blowback, Tommy. The Russians needed to punish someone, and with no obvious target, I fell into their crosshairs.”

“Vipond’s a piece of shit. Say the word, boss, and I’ll fix that—”

Lee gently patted my arm. “It’s all right, Tommy. His plan was solid, and it needed to be done, but he should’ve run it by me first, which he didn’t. That’s why I had to replace him.”

“How’s it going with Stoner, boss?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t trust her. She’s a bitch to me every time we cross paths, and the more I get to know her, the more I don’t trust her. I should put somebody on her.”

“Surveillance? Oh, no. Not necessary, son. Lana doesn’t want to hurt me, son.”

“I’m glad you have faith in her, boss, because I don’t. We’re at DEFCON ONE and shouldn’t trust anyone, and we’re definitely not sharing what we know, right boss?”

“No sharing. Got it.”

“Not with the CIA or any other group whose name is a fuckin’ alphabet jumble.”

“You have my word, son. Now, what’s your plan?”

“Gonna work Vipond. He’s a hundred times smarter than Stoner and probably still has more control over CIA assets worldwide than she does. She may be a good lay, but I wouldn’t tell her anything, boss. Be careful of the pillow talk.”

Lee tried to smile. “There will be no pillow talk for a while, son, but I hear your message loud and clear. No sharing with anyone.”

Bingo.

Vipond Residence. Foggy Bottom. D.C.

Ben was happy to have Stoner back in his bed again, but he was confused by her sudden interest in Lee Armstrong. She didn’t deny sleeping with the president, in fact she wore it as a badge of honor. That fact didn’t bother Ben as much as the implications that relationship presented.

Ben lay in bed, looking out at the rising sun as he listened to Lana’s breathing beside him.

Lana’s ambition drives her. If she’s sleeping with Number One, then she has a motive…and it’s not everlasting love or spending her life with Prince Charming. It’s something else.

Does she want to be First Lady and then run for president? Or is she going straight for the Oval Office? Could it be something I’m not imagining behind door number three?  

Dulles International Airport. Virginia.

The Powell Corp. jet landed at Dulles mid-afternoon, and Jesse and his protection unit were on hand to pick Annie and Mateo up.

She descended the steps, her long hair blowing in the breeze and Jesse thought she’d never looked more beautiful. He pulled her into a hug and then shook hands with Mateo. The big Panamanian looked like he’d rather be somewhere else.

“So glad you could come, Ace. This is a terrible situation and it’s hard to know what to do first. You have so much more experience here at the Capital than I do. I’m a newbie just getting my feet wet.”

One of the men on Jesse’s protection unit opened the back door of the SUV and Annie and Mateo climbed in. Jesse rode in the front with the driver.

“I’m not sure what I can do to help you, but I know a few people and I might be able to get information to help you. Washington is a harbinger of false information and it’s hard to get at the truth. I think of it as the city where the truth comes to die.”

“Appreciate your help, Ace.” I’ll fill you in on everything we know so far. Tommy is working hard on it, and we do have a start.”

Mateo sat quietly beside Annie, stared out the window, and didn’t enter the conversation.

George Washington University Hospital. D.C.

Jesse, Annie and Mateo stopped at the checkpoint as they got off the elevator. One of the FBI agents working the detail escorted them to the president’s room.

“President Armstrong is down the corridor, Mister Secretary. You’ll be escorted to his room.”

“Thank you.” Jesse received special treatment wherever he went, and he found it embarrassing. He thought of himself as an oilman and a horseman. Nothing more.

Mateo opted to stay in the waiting area while Annie and Jesse visited with the president. He could be a little on the stubborn side and Annie chose not to argue with him in front of the dozen other people in the room. All of them hoping for a glimpse of the damaged president, and none of them being allowed access.

“I won’t be long, sugar.”

She and Jesse entered the special ICU suite and found Lana Stoner sitting close to Lee’s bed holding his hand.

She turned her head to see who had come in, recognized the Secretary of State—hard to miss the big cowboy wearing a white Stetson. Lana stood up with a big smile on her face and picked up her purse. “I guess my time is up. I’ll let you have your turn, Mister Secretary.”

“Thank you, Director Stoner.” Jesse turned on the Texas charm and flashed her that famous Quantrall grin.

“Annie, you’re here.” Lee’s voice was croaky and weak, but the happiness was unmistakable.

On her way to the door, Stoner noticed the change in Lee and gave Annie the stink-eye as she was leaving.

Annie sat down and winked at Lee. “What have you got going on with her, sugar-pop? She seems awfully possessive if I was reading her right.”

Lee chuckled cautiously—like it hurt to laugh.

Jesse smiled. “She did seem annoyed she had to leave you, Lee.”

“We’ve had dinner a couple of times in the past week or two,” said Lee. “I’m not sure where it’s going, if anywhere.”

“You don’t have to explain, honey bunny. I’m happy you’re seeing somebody.” Annie reached over and stroked the blond hair sticking up over the massive bandage around Lee’s head. “That private residence they stashed you in can get pretty lonely, I bet.”

Lee’s face was so swollen, smiling was almost impossible. “Just Roxy and me against the world.”

“How’s Walsh handling things?” asked Annie. “Have you had any meaningful conversations with him since you regained consciousness, sugar?”

“He hasn’t shared details of the things he’s been handling, but he hasn’t asked me any questions either. I’d like to think he’s carrying the load pretty well. He has Carter and Yvonne to help him.”

“Nate and I have talked over a few things,” said Jesse.

“And?” asked Annie. “What was your opinion, cowboy?”

“I felt his decisions were sound. Levalley is right there beside him practically calling the shots and I have faith in Carter.”

“I’ve got to get out of here,” said Lee. “Lying here I have no control over anything that’s going on.”

“When will you take back the Big Stick?” asked Annie.

“I think I’ll do that today. Enough resting. I may have to lie here for another couple of days, but Carter can bring any big problems to me here at the hospital. In fact, I think he could work from here—the room is big enough—and we could make decisions together.”

“Uh huh,” said Jesse. “We can help you work through that today, Lee. Get things set up with the powers that be and get you back on target perhaps by … tomorrow.”

Annie nodded, confirming another day of rest for Lee wouldn’t hurt.

“Appreciate it.” Lee’s voice had weakened. Too many visitors and he was showing obvious signs of fatigue.

“Time for your nap, sugar pop.” Annie leaned down and kissed his battered face. 

As Annie and Jesse walked towards the waiting area to reclaim Mateo, Annie asked, “Do you think Lee is ready to resume power?”

“Physically? Definitely not, but mentally he seems perfectly coherent to me. What about you, Ace?”

“I think he can do it with help, but he’ll need Levalley, and he definitely needs Yvonne. We should chat to her.”

“Okay,” said Jesse. “I don’t know her well.”

“I’ll call Roy,” said Annie.

Benton Crescent. Georgetown. D.C.

Roy opened the door for Annie and Jesse and welcomed them to Yvonne’s townhouse. “I’m so happy to see you, Annie.” They hugged and Roy shed a tear or two before pulling himself together.

“Please come in. Yvonne is in the living room, and I have coffee ready.”

Startled by his imposing presence, Yvonne jumped up when she saw the Secretary of State crossing her living room with his hand extended. “Mister Secretary, how wonderful to see you.”

“Major Harrison,” said Jesse, “this must be an extremely stressful time for you.”

“It is. The past few days have been exhausting. Please have a seat. How can I help you?”

Annie glanced at Jesse, and he kicked it off. “The president is contemplating resuming power tomorrow, and I want to make sure you’ll be by his side supporting him, as I will. He’s mentally sharp, but there will be many physical drawbacks facing him for the next few weeks.”

“Of course I’ll be there for him. We spend most days working together.”

Roy brought the coffee tray in and set it on the table. “Please help yourselves.”

“Thank you, Roy,” said Yvonne. She turned to Jesse, “I hadn’t anticipated the president being well enough to resume office this soon.”

“When we left him earlier,” said Annie, “he was talking about resuming today, but Jesse said tomorrow would be soon enough. Mentally he’s up to the challenge, but he’s extremely weak physically.”

“Amazing news.” Yvonne’s face lit up. “I’ll be happy to be there for him. I haven’t been able to do much for Walsh. He didn’t seem to want me around when I offered to lend him a hand. He has his own staff he relies heavily on.”

“I’m happy we can count on you, Major,” said Jesse. “Will you take care of having the correct people at the hospital tomorrow, so the president can take charge again?”

“I will, and I’ll advise you of the time to be there, Mister Secretary.” Yvonne smiled. “I’m so glad we had this opportunity to chat. I’ve been feeling a little low about a lot of things. Lee getting hurt was nearly the last straw for me.”

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Emily and the girls in the kitchen made us another great dinner and the soldiers appreciated the fantastic food. Especially the desserts. Billy and Ted both had a sweet tooth and between the two of them, they could demolish an entire pie.

While Ted and Lukas watched a game after dinner with both dogs sticking close to them, I left for a drive to Foggy Bottom to talk to Ben Vipond.

He can help me, and I think he wants to.

Vipond Residence. Foggy Bottom. D.C.

Billy and the soldiers lurked behind me while I rang the bell and waited for Ben to answer the door.

If someone offered, I woulda paid a thousand bucks to get Lana’s smug face to look scared, shocked, panicked and pissed, all at the same time. Instead, I got it for free by ringing a doorbell.

Damned good deal.

“Evening, Director Stoner. Just a few words with Ben and I’ll let you two get back to whatever it was you were doing.”

Lana was noticeably flustered. “I was just leaving, Marshal Donovan.”

I laughed. “Don’t leave on my account, ma’am. I’m not staying long.”

Ben spoke to Lana Stoner privately for a minute, then returned with a wary look on his face. “What do you want to talk to me about, Marshal?”

Lana stood in the kitchen, watching us at the door, so I stepped off the porch.

Without a backward glance, Ben followed.

We were about fifteen feet from his front door with no one around before I began speaking. I stepped close, just to be sure. “You know all your guys around the world, right?”

“I do. Why?”

“How about Russia? You good there?”

Ben nodded slightly.

He’s back in spook mode.

“Yes. Recently in contact with Ivan Razik. He’s the special agent in charge of the field office in Moscow.”

We were a foot apart, and I locked my eyes on his. “Can I trust you, Ben? This has to stay between you and me, no matter what. You owe me one for Colombia.”

He averted his gaze down, nodding. “Yeah, I do. I underestimated and undervalued you, and I apologize for that, Donovan. You can trust me from here on in. I admire your dedication and your true patriotism. It’s rare these days.”

“I guess I trust you as much as I trust anybody in this city of liars and cheaters.”

Ben smiled. “That’s comforting…in a way. What do you want me to find out?”

“Ask your man, Ivan, who’s pulling the strings on a hitter named Lenin Yakov.”

Ben mouthed the name, then nodded.

Smart man. Big brain. Probably a great memory.

“I need to know if he’s here alone or with a team, if he has support here in the U.S., and where they’re hiding him. Lee will be released in a few days, and we have to know the scope of the threat.”

“May I ask—how’d you get that name?”

“Need to know, Benny-boy. And right now—"

Ben chuckled. “I understand. I’ll get all the information I can.”

“Appreciate it.”

Stoner stood back from the window in the living room, watching. I could see her from where we stood.

Didn’t fuckin’ trust her as far as I could throw her.

When they finished their covert talk, Ben walked Donovan back to the front of the house and noticed the gaggle of soldiers waiting for him. With a nod, he went back inside as Tommy and the soldiers left.

“Jesus, the kid has an army with him.”

Lana sneered as she cuddled up to Ben. “Like he’s fucking important in any way.”

“He’s important to somebody, Lana. I’m thinking it’s Armstrong, and you can’t go any higher than that.”

“What did he want?”

“He asked me for a favor.”

“And you refused, right?”

“I didn’t. This is something I have to take care of.”

Lana cradled Ben’s balls in one hand and gently squeezed. “Don’t forget who your boss is, Benny Boy. I own you just like I own these nuts. So, if you’re using the CIA to help that inbred hillbilly, I need to know about it.”

Ben was not enjoying how this conversation was going. “If it involves the CIA, I’ll let you know.”

She squeezed harder, making Ben wince. “Don’t sneak around me, or you’ll be sorry.”

Ben slapped her hand away. “Will I? I’ve already lost my job.  What else can you do to me?”

She raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You’d be surprised.”

“Whatever, Stoner. You do what you gotta do, and I’ll do the same.”

She was out of control.

Chapter Twenty

Monday, December 2nd.

Vipond Residence. Foggy Bottom. D.C.

A tightness in his chest left Ben gasping for air and woke him up. “Jeeze.” He shoved the duvet back and sat on the side of the bed trying to get enough oxygen. “What the hell was that? Never had one of those before. Am I ramping up for a goddamned heart attack?”

Ben walked across the room to the ensuite and relieved himself. Standing in front of the vanity mirror he thought with a certain level of loathing about going back to the CIA building in Langley and working with Lana Stoner.

I’m stuck in her office—my office. She watches every move I make and seems to lie about everything. And her actions last night were unnerving.

The alarm went off and Ben had to think of why he’d set it. “Right, I have to call Russia for Donovan. Good questions and I want to know this stuff myself.

His investigation sounds like he’s way ahead of everyone else.

Don’t underestimate him again.

The kid is good—maybe the best—and he couldn’t give a shit about anybody except family and friends.

I’m not in that circle.

He stays focused and plows forward. Traits I admire.

Ben sat on the bed, grabbed his sat phone off the dresser and made the call. “Ivan, did I wake you up?”

“No, I’m good, boss. When are you gonna be back in charge?”

“Won’t be long, Ivan. Working on that now.”

“Great. We’re missing you.”

“Thanks, Ivan. Hey, I’ve got to ask you a couple of questions and I don’t want Stoner to know I called you. You good with that?”

“Course. I always hated that pushy bitch. She’s a trainwreck.”

Ben chuckled. “See if you can find out who’s pulling the strings on a hitter named Lenin Yakov.”

“Okay, let me write that down. Lenin Yakov. Got it. I’ll find out, boss. Anything else?”

“Yeah, I need to know if he’s in the US alone.”

“He the fucker who did the damage on Armstrong?”

“Probable but not confirmed. I also need to know if he’s got any support over here. Anybody at all. Get down on hard on it, Ivan. This is the most important thing you’ve ever done.”

“Jesus, boss. I’m on it and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“My sat phone only. This is highly classified.”

“Got it, boss. On it, and I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“Thanks, Ivan. I can always depend on you and your team.”

Ben ended the call. Went downstairs and started the coffee, then ran back upstairs and took a quick shower. He was just drying off when Donovan called and invited him to breakfast at the residence.

“Need to see you, Ben. Breakfast at eight in the private residence. Only you.”

“Thanks for the invitation, Marshal. I’m there.”

Ben stared at the dead screen of his sat phone not quite believing what a turn his life had taken in the last twenty-four hours.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

I was up early. Got a coffee in the dining room and went back to my room to make phone calls. Lukas was still sleeping, and I tried not to wake him up.

I called Kamps to see if he had anything new. Time was marching on, and Lee would soon be released, and we had to have the shooter before that happened.

“I don’t want to go to Russia,” mumbled Lukas.

“I didn’t know you were awake.”

“Yeah, I’m awake and I don’t have a good feeling about today.” He tossed the covers back and went to the can.

Lukas could get testy.

Testy, moody, killer angry…take your pick and take a step back.

We were all together in the dining room when Daniel showed Ben Vipond in. I stood up and motioned for him to grab a seat.

“Hey, this is a gathering.” He smiled. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“For anybody who doesn’t know him, this is Ben Vipond, Director of the CIA. He’s temporarily on hold but he’ll be back at the wheel when the boss gets out of the hospital.”

“Thanks, Marshal Donovan. Appreciate it.”

“The more liars we can get out of this city the better. My new side-hustle is to sort them out and send them packing.”

Ben nodded. “Worthwhile quest.”

June and her helpers from the kitchen came in and served breakfast. They seemed happy to have more people to cook for and I was happy to help them out.

After breakfast, Ben and I took coffee with us and went to the Treaty Room down the hall for a private meeting.

He glanced around the historic room and grinned. “Never been in the Treaty Room before.”

I laughed. “My second home. Me and Lee are always in here talking to Dan or somebody else when some shit is going down. Handy to the residence.”

I pulled out my leather notebook and a pen. If Ben had something for me, I wasn’t going to miss it.

“You call Russia, Ben?”

“Yeah, I set my alarm and called early this morning—felt like the middle of night.” He laughed. “Talked to my Agent in Charge there, Ivan Razik. Told him what we wanted to know, and he promised to work hard on it and get back to me as soon as possible.”

“Great. This is important. Lee can’t be released from the hospital until we have a location on Yakov and we’re positive he’s out of the picture.”

“I understand, Marshal.”

“Does Stoner know anything about this?”

“You said no, so she doesn’t.”

“Good man. This is best kept between the two of us. We can work as a team, Ben. You lost your way, but you’re good, deep down. That’s why it’s just you and me. There’s nobody we can trust in this city.”

“I get it, Donovan. You’re in the power seat.”

“Somebody’s gotta clean up this goddamned mess. I’m picking you because you know the players and how things work in this shit town. You get me what I need, and I have the goods and the balls to get ‘er done. We’re the ones to do the job, but I have to be sure you’re totally solid.”

“We’re solid, Marshal. I agree with everything you said.” Ben offered his hand on it, and I believed him, so I shook it.

I want to believe him.

After Ben left, I stayed in the Treaty Room and called Kamps about the Russian and the Iranian snipers to see if he had anything new. Sometimes his street people were amazingly fast. Other times, it took a couple of days for them to pick up a thread of a conversation and track it down to the source.

“Morning, bro. Anything new overnight? I know you run computer searches like Blacky does.”

“Yeah, I do, but I wouldn’t be running fuck-all if Blacky didn’t share his programs with me. He’s a genius and his stuff saves days of work from the way I used to search.”

“I’ve got a pen. Tell me the good stuff.”

“Speedy was pretty happy with what you gave him for the first name, and you bought him lunch and tequila and treated him good. That went a long way with him, and he’s been working his ass off for you ever since.”

“What did he get?”

“Wouldn’t tell me but he says it’s golden. He’ll meet you at the Last Call at five o’clock.” Kamps laughed. “He might be angling for you to buy him dinner.”

“I can do that if he’s got the goods for me. Did he mention a price?”

“Seven, but he’ll try to get all he can out of you. All of them do that and most of them are willing to give you a better price, if you ask for it.”

“Okay. I’ll be ready. Let you know later what he found out.”

“Copy that.”

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

Ben sat at his hand-me-down desk in the corner of the office that had been his kingdom just two weeks ago. Now, he was living on borrowed time. Ben had hit rock bottom, and Stoner had thrown him a lifeline. At first, he’d been grateful.

Grateful was over.

He knew Tommy Donovan better now—not a friend, not an enemy. An ally. The kid had the biggest balls in D.C., and when he’d tapped Ben for help, the former director had to make a decision: Work with Donovan or tell Stoner everything.

He made the right choice: to get his job and his office back. Shit—get his life back.

Teaming up with Donovan was the smart play. One word from him, and Armstrong would forgive Colombia. One word, and Ben was back in business.

He sifted through the files Stoner had dumped on him, but his ears were locked onto her voice. Low. Cautious. Whispering into the phone to someone. From the conversation, it sounded like she was talking to VP Walsh.

“What time is that happening?” she asked, concerned. “No, I can’t make it. Sorry, sir.”

Ben kept his face neutral, but his pulse kicked up a notch.

Walsh must be stepping down, and Lee was resuming command.

The best part—Tommy would be at the hospital, and Stoner wouldn’t.

That was good.

He grabbed his mug and strolled to the sideboard for more coffee, keeping his ears open.

This is going to be a great day.

Ben picked up his mug and strode to the sideboard for more coffee.

This is going to be a great day.

George Washington University Hospital. D.C.

Big flurry on the ICU floor when all the officials arrived to restore Lee Armstrong to his rightful place of power.

Jesse and Walsh went in, and I waited outside the door of Lee’s room with my army clustered around me. Mostly because I didn’t want to be in the waiting area with Annie and Mateo.

Knowing my wife was with Mateo for good, was something I could almost deal with if I didn’t see them in person but watching them together right in front of my eyes was too much for any man.

Once the mini-ceremony was over and done and Raney had jotted down a few notes to deliver to the press corps, I went into Lee’s room for a few minutes on my own.

“Hey, boss. Congrats on getting it done.”

“Thanks, Tommy. Never would’ve been able to do it without you.”

“I’m here, boss. Me and my army are having us a time at your place. The girls are feeding us good and we’re keeping a sharp eye on Ted for you.”

“I’m glad you’re there with Ted and with Roxy too. I don’t like her there by herself.”

“You’ll be back soon, boss. Lady Doc say when you could go?”

“No. I was afraid to ask her. She’s pretty…firm.”

“I’ll tell Annie to ask her. She ain’t afraid of nothing or nobody.”

Lee tried to smile. “That’s for sure. Is she in the waiting area?”

“You know it, boss. She’s here for you when you need her.”

“Unlike so many others who are supposed to support me.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“I’d like to see her.”

“Sure. I’ll send her in.”

Before I left, I stuck my head in the waiting area—packed again today with people I didn’t know—beckoned to Annie, and when she came towards me I said, “Lee wants to see you, babe.”

“Thanks, sugar.”

Almost tears in the gray eyes, but I couldn’t go there. Not now.

On the way to the elevator Billy whispered to me, “Wow, she’s beautiful. How the hell do you know her?”

“We’ll talk about it in private.”

Last Call Dive Bar. Downtown. D.C.

Speedy wanted the meet to be at five o’clock and I was there a few minutes early. The soldiers cleared the bar and then hung around outside so Speedy wouldn’t get spooked on an OD of authority.

When he came zooming into the bar parking lot on his skateboard, he saw the Humvee and took a second wary look around. Wild eyes searching for danger in every direction. Ready to bolt.

“All good, Speedy,” I said. “The army is protecting me and that includes you.”

“No shit?”

“None.”

Billy stayed outside with the rest of the soldiers while Lukas and I sat in a booth with Speedy and bought him a pitcher of Coors and a couple of shots of Don Angel.

“The president gonna live?” Speedy had a pained look on his young face. “I don’t like Walsh.”

Even street people had strong political opinions at the Cap.

“Armstrong is a little better. I saw him this morning and he’s a bruised-up mess but he’s talking okay. You helped him a lot and I told him it was you who got the name of the shooter. He’s grateful.”

Speedy grinned and showed me a couple of his black teeth. “He know I’m helping him? Like he knows my name?”

“He does. You find where that Russian fucker is?”

Speedy nodded and leaned in close so only I could hear him. “The Russian guy is staying at the Ambassador’s big house on Sixteenth Street.”

“He’s not at the embassy? I thought the Russians might have given him sanctuary at the embassy.”

Speedy shook his head. “Ain’t at the embassy. We already checked there. Kamps sent us there first.”

“Fantastic job, Speedy. You up for some dinner?”

“You buying?”

“Sure am. How much do I owe you for the locate?”

“Another five will do it. Gonna charge you seven fifty, but I won’t if you tell the big boss I found the fucker who shot him.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow, Speedy.”

“He’ll be grateful. I know he will.”

Farrington Residence. Georgetown. DC.

Getting into the trucks at the dive bar I thought about going to the club and singing a few, but if there was a sniper on my ass, I didn’t want to risk it.

Couldn’t chance it. Be bad for the club to have more violence on the property. Look bad for Mister Allman and he’s been so fuckin’ nice to me.

“One more stop before we go back to the residence. I need to talk to Jesse in Georgetown for five minutes.”

“Sure,” said Billy. “I like Jesse. Never met a real live Texas oilman before.”

On the way over there I filled Lukas in, “I need to talk to Jesse about Russia and I don’t want Annie hearing anything about it. It’s gonna be awkward with her and Mateo there, but we’ve got to keep her out of this. I don’t want her getting hurt.”

“Same.”

Hard for me to keep my focus with Annie in D.C.

“I can’t help you out, bro. I don’t know Mateo good enough to talk to him about jack-shit.”

“Talk about your ride.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You and the Sec should go into his office and close the door,” said Billy. “That would be best.”

“Yeah, that would work if Annie doesn’t just walk in and want to know what we’re talking about.”

Billy laughed. “Would she do that?”

“She would if she felt like it,” said Lukas.

Damned right she would.

Annie was all smiles at the door when we got there, and the house smelled like somebody had been baking pies.

“Come in boys. Have you had dinner?”

“Yeah, we have.” I looked into her eyes and saw something there meant for me, and I had to look away.

Billy witnessed it and gave me a look.

Mateo was in the living room with Jesse, and I had to figure out how to get Jesse upstairs or outside—anywhere away from Annie. I didn’t want her going anywhere near the Russian shooter.

Taking the direct approach, I strode into the living room and shook hands with Mateo and then Jesse. “A word outside, Jesse?”

“Sure. We stepped outside the patio door, and I slid it shut behind me. I wanted to light up a smoke, but didn’t take the time.

“What’s up, Tommy?”

“The Russians have the shooter stashed, not at the embassy, but in the residence of Ambassador Pushkin on Sixteenth Street.”

“Wow, that’s some information, kiddo. How you get that?”

“Kamps helped me. He’s got great people on the streets in this city.”

“He must. The FBI and all the rest of them haven’t come up with anything. They don’t even know the name of the shooter.”

“We’re miles ahead, boss.”

“Any idea how you’ll get at him if he’s being protected with a load of Russian security?”

“Not yet. Recon next. Drive over there and see what we’re up against.”

“Yep. Take it slow, kiddo. Be sure of your exit plan before you start.”

“Will do, boss. Good advice. Got caught that way a couple times already. No way out gives you a bad feeling.”

“Sure does. I’ve experienced that sensation a couple of times myself. Come on in and have a beer with me and Mateo, son. Appreciate the update.”

“You with Lee tomorrow when he starts working again?”

“Yes, I’ll be hunkered down in the hospital room with Walsh and Levalley most of the day while Lee delegates.”

“Lee will need a rest. He gets tired. Under all those bruises, he’s as pale as an albino monkey, boss. Make sure he gets enough breaks.”

“I’m sure if we’re putting too much stress on him, the nurses will kick us out for a while. I’ll watch out for him when you’re not there on the job.”

“Thanks, boss. Do me one other favor while you’re at the hospital?”

“Sure.”

“Keep Stoner away from him.”

Jesse grinned. “I can try, but aren’t they kind of…seeing each other?”

“My idea at the get-go, but it was a bad one. She’s hot and Lee likes her, but he can’t trust her. He’s weak and needy and she’s got to go.”

“See what I can do, son.”

“I’d better get going and let you get back to your company.”

“We’re okay, Tommy. It is nice to have Annie and Mateo here for a few days. Keeps this old cowboy from getting lonely.”

Jesse opened the sliding doors, and we walked through the house, collecting Lukas on the way.

“Bye everybody. Nice to see y’all.” I winked at Annie, and she smiled at me. Damn near made me stop in my tracks.

Jesse opened the front door, and I stepped out onto the small porch.

Something felt off.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

Lukas shoved me hard.

I crashed down the fuckin’ concrete steps, pain exploding in my arm.

“Ow. Jesus Christ.”

Looked up at Lukas, ready to punch my brother in the nuts but he was aiming at the rooftop across the street.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Then he was running.

I didn’t know what was going on. Never heard the shot.

I forced myself up, arm throbbing like a motherfucker. Blood running down my arm.

Another graze. Too fuckin’ close.

Pulling out the Desert Eagle, I took off after Lukas.

The minute I hit the street—

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

A second shooter.

Black SUV parked down the block.

Four quick shots. I hit the asphalt rolling for cover.

That’s when the street erupted.

Annie ran past, gun in her hand and squeezing off shots at the Black SUV.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Don’t, Annie,” I shouted, but she couldn’t hear me.

Soldiers firing, bullets shredding the night air. My ears rang like a bell had gone off inside my skull.

In seconds, the black SUV had a thousand white dots all over it. The windshield was decimated. 

Sirens. Close.

“Lukas ran that way after the first shooter,” I shouted to Billy. He moved like a shadow, chasing after Lukas with two other soldiers following.

Two minutes later they returned with Lukas.

“Got away,” he said.

I pushed myself up, shaking, blood dripping from my elbow.

Standing beside me, Annie gave me the once over, then continued scanning for other shooters as she popped in a new mag. “You hurt?”

“Shoulder graze. It’s nothin’. You?”

“I’m golden, sugar.”

Lukas and the soldiers walked over, scanning.

“Nice job, Lukas.”

Secret Service, D.C. cops, and the whole damn cavalry were rolling in. The FBI counterterrorism unit arrived in force, took control of the scene and locked the street down.

Jesse walked to the edge of the driveway rubbing his chest. “Don’t do that to an old man, Ace. You scared the bejesus outta me.”

“Roger that, cowboy.” She winked at him.

Mateo was beside him, face like stone. “We go home now, mi corazon.”

Annie hesitated. “Tomorrow?”

Mateo stared, expressionless. With a nod, he took her hand and led her inside.

A young, slick-haired guy strutting around in his FBI raid jacket strode over to Annie, Lukas and me. With a flick of his wrist, he flashed his creds. “Special Agent Dawson. Want to tell me what happened?”

“Sure. One guy shot at my brother. I returned fire, then chased him until I lost him. Fast fucker.” Lukas gestured toward the SUV. “That guy cranked off more shots, and now he’s dead.”

Lukas lit a smoke. Debrief over.

“Here’s his ID,” Billy said as he joined us. He tossed the passport to Agent Dawson.

“Darvish Payam. Iranian,” Dawson said.

The Ayatollah wasn’t done with me yet.

I wasn’t just a target.

I was at the top of his list.

Chapter Twenty-One

Tuesday, December 3rd.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

I woke up feeling like a walking target and I had a strong urge to get out of this city and go home to Texas.

Lukas was in the bathroom, so I didn’t need to worry about waking him up with my phone call. I grabbed my cell and called Farrell to check in.

“We’re all good here, cuz. Any idea when you’ll be home?”

“Couple of days. Few loose ends to tie up and that will do it.”

“You’re saying the words I want to hear but you don’t sound confident. What’s wrong?”

“Huge mess here that I can’t talk about. Don’t want to be here doing what I’m doing. Wish I was home in Texas with the kids and y’all. That’s the truth of it. When I get home we’ll talk.”

“Copy that, cuz.”

At breakfast we talked a little about the sniper attack the night before. My biggest worry was the number of shooters out to get me. We didn’t get the guy in the SUV, and he might show up any place, any time.

Are there more shooters with him, or is he the only one?

Lukas asked the same question out loud, and we all wondered the same thing.

I step outside and bang, I’m dead.

On edge.

Waiting for it…

Today would be tough.

Billy caught me alone and asked about Annie. I thought I was hiding it pretty well, but he’d picked up on a couple of looks between us.

I took him into the sitting room and closed the door. “She’s my wife, Billy. Kind of a secret thing we keep to ourselves. My ex right now, but it’s more complicated than that. We’re… I can’t talk about her and get messed up. I have to focus on the job, so it’s better if we don’t talk about it at all.”

“That’s a surprise and not what I was thinking at all. Beautiful lady, Tommy. I’ll keep my mouth shut and let you work.”

“Thanks. I want her back in Texas. Her being here in D.C. is throwing me off my game.”

“I can see that. You can’t let your guard down or one of those fuckin’ snipers will get you. I, for one, don’t want that to happen on my watch.”

“Thanks, Billy. Appreciate it.”

Russian Ambassador’s Residence. D.C.

First job of the day was recon, and we headed for the Russian Ambassador’s fancy residence on Sixteenth Street.

Billy cruised slowly by the big old mansion that at one time had served as the Russian Embassy here in Washington. A new embassy had been built and now the mansion was used as the Ambo’s personal residence.

Protected property with a load of security.

“Think there are armed guards?” asked Lukas.

“Yep. I do.” From the street it looked like an impossible fortress. No way to get Yakov out without using brute force or maybe blowing the place up.

This is going to take some thought. Wish we had a floor plan.

Farrington Residence. Georgetown. D.C.

“It’s time to go home, mi amor.”

“You’re right, sweetheart. I want to go home as much as you do, but there are assassins in the city trying to kill our president and disable our government. I can’t go home and leave all of the responsibility on Tommy and Jesse’s shoulders. Tommy has an assassin of his own after him. I’ll have to stay at least two more days.”

Angry and unhappy, Mateo stomped into the backyard for a smoke.

Lynette arrived at eight a.m. and while she made breakfast, she inquired about the president’s health.

“He is doing better, Lynette,” said Jesse. “Two or three more days and he’ll be back at the White House.”

“I’m so glad we didn’t have to watch his funeral on TV. Those things are so depressing, and yet the entire country watches. They can’t seem to take their eyes off any tragedy.”

“I think we’re all glad there is no funeral to watch,” said Annie.

Jesse nodded.

Right after breakfast, Jesse got ready to go to the hospital and Annie volunteered to go with him.

Mateo shook his head. “No, Annie. You will not go to the hospital. It is too dangerous. Tommy will be there, and he and the president are drawing fire from many sources.” His voice softened a little, “I don’t want you to be a target, mi amor.”

“We will have protection from Jesse’s security detail, Mateo,” said Annie.

“I forbid it.” Mateo had both feet firmly planted in Annie’s path. She wasn’t getting by him.

Annie gave Jesse the eye and he left on his own.

Benton Crescent. Georgetown. D. C.

Yvonne had to go to the hospital to support Lee but in her heart she didn’t feel ready to go back to work in any capacity. With Walsh waltzing in and out of the Oval Office like he owned the place, she’d been a nervous wreck. Not as bad as Carter, spinning in circles and chattering like a squirrel who couldn’t find his nuts, but bad enough.

Now she had to cope with Roy leaving. Could she stand living alone again? Why not? She’d always lived alone before all this madness started and she thought nothing of it.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay when I’m gone, Yvonne?”

“I’m fine now, Roy. I have my new get-fit plan that I’m adhering to. I’m healthy and getting stronger every day. I’m running every morning, and in better shape than I’ve been in for months. Chet is the one I’m worrying about. He sustained a lot of emotional damage with no one to lean on and I wasn’t fair to him. Out of my mind was more like it and I regret the way I acted towards him. You go home to Texas and take care of him.”

“Will we still talk every morning?”

“Of course we will. A morning phone call is our thing. Give me a hug before I go. I have to be at the hospital for the return-to-power swearing in.”

“I’ll be gone when you get home, Yvonne.” Roy had tears in his eyes, “but I’ll leave a casserole in the fridge for your dinner.”

“You are the sweetest thing, Roy. I’ve got to get out of here before you make me cry.”

George Washington University Hospital. D.C.

When the Chief Justice arrived to reinstate President Armstrong, only Vice President Walsh, Secretary of State Quantrall, Chief of Staff Carter Levalley and the president’s chief advisor, Major Harrison were in the room.

Lee Armstrong sat upright in his bed, placed his hand on the bible and swore the oath.

Again.

Jesse watched Walsh, and during the swearing-in and didn’t think the vice president looked happy to give up the title. Perhaps he enjoyed his interim power a little too much.

I’ll keep an eye on him in the future like Tommy wants me to.

CIA Headquarters. Langley. Virginia.

Ben Vipond was on a high as he scanned his temporary access card and let himself into the building where he had worked most of his adult life.

A long and distinguished career spent working his way to the top job in an agency he knew better than anyone.

He could feel changes were needed to make the CIA tighter and more efficient, and when he got his job back, he’d be a big part of the restructuring.

Stoner would be out on her beautiful ass selling pencils on Pennsylvania Avenue.

“Morning, Stoner.” Ben walked past Lana’s desk on the way to his own and she sneered at him. “Have you finished with those reports I gave you to do?”

“All done. Why don’t you give me something more meaningful to do? Patty could’ve finished those reports for you.”

“I’m not giving you anything highly classified because technically, you don’t work here anymore.”

“Yes, I do. The president reinstated me for three months, and I officially work here.”

“I’m going to talk to Lee tomorrow about your stay here and I think I’m going to end it.”

Ben laughed. “You think you have that much clout with Armstrong?”

She smiled. “Sure do.”

“Now that Tommy’s back in town, I think he outranks you with Armstrong, Stoner.”

“Shows what you know, Benny-boy.” Lana picked up her phone and two minutes later, two security guards were shown in by Patty.

The two uniforms hovered over Ben and waited while he packed up the personal items on his desk, then they escorted him to his car in the parking lot.

Driving back to his house in Foggy Bottom, Ben wasn’t fazed at all. In fact, he was relieved that he didn’t have to pretend to work in Stoner’s office. He had more important things to do on his own for Tommy and for the president.

Suddenly, working freely and independent of the Agency felt like a much higher calling, and he was loving it.

Ben called Tommy from the car to see where he was at. “Just wondering how things were shaping up for you today, Marshal.”

“Not bad, Ben. We have a location on the shooter. What did your man, Ivan find out for us?”

“No response yet. I’m heading home now, and I’ll put in another call. Get right back to you.”

“Good copy, Ben. You know what we need.”

“I’ll get it.”

Ben sailed into his driveway with a smile on his face like he’d won the lottery.

Lana Stoner could suck wind.

Peddle your ass wherever. I’m getting my job back.

Old West Austin. Texas.

Kamps had leased a car and driver to meet Roy at the airport. Roy had been gone far too long for Kamps’ liking, and it was high time he came back to where he belonged.

Yvonne lost their baby, but she wasn’t the only one feeling the loss. This was the most brutal heartbreak Kamps had ever endured.

Roy was as excited as he was about the baby and just as devastated. Thankful that his best friend was finally coming home, Kamps did something that was diametrically opposed to his better judgment.

He bought Roy a cat.

The driver parked in the driveway of the townhouse and helped with Roy’s luggage. Kamps paid him, tipped him and limped up the front steps to unlocked the door.

“I’m glad to be home, Chet.” Roy turned his head so Kamps wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry you had to be alone for so long.”

“Yeah, wasn’t my best time. I got you a welcome-home present.”

“You did? You never buy me presents. What did you get me?”

Kamps hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “It’s over there getting fur on my favorite chair.”

Roy squealed as he ran across the room and scooped up the huge orange cat. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as Roy hugged the big furball “I love him so much. Thank you, Chet.”

“No problem. Now you can pay me back with some decent coffee.”

Roy laughed. “What’s his name?”

“That’s your problem. Not my cat.”

“I think I’ll call him…Punkin because he’s the color of a big, round pumpkin.”

“Go for it.” Kamps lit up a smoke and went upstairs to work. He hollered over his shoulder, “Bring me up some coffee.”

NSA Headquarters. Fort Meade. Maryland.

Billy drove me and Lukas out to the NSA building to catch Granddad up. He and his people were listening to shit happening all over the world and I needed to know if he’d heard anything new from the Russians or the Iranians.

Deputy Director Cassidy was in the office when Granddad’s assistant showed us in, and he didn’t leave so I figured maybe he had something to tell us.

“Sit down, boys. Floyd was just telling me the details about the rebels calling themselves HTS overthrowing the Syrian Government.”

“Who are they?”

“A terrorist group who have taken over and promise new hope and stability for Syria after years of fighting. The new leader is Rashid Al-Karim.”

“Are the terrorists who took over supported by Iran?” asked Lukas. My brother was a fuckin’ genius but hid it from the world.

Director Dunnett raised an eyebrow. “That is an excellent question, Lukas, and something I wondered myself. I’m sure Floyd will have an answer to that question shortly.”

Deputy Cassidy stood up to leave and said, “The former Prime Minister of Syria fled to Russia. That says something.”

“Uh huh. Sure does.”

The Deputy Director left the office, and I asked if there was any news on assassins from Iran or Russia being in D.C.

“I’ve asked for all pertinent information to be brought to me immediately, Tommy. Nothing solid yet. I’ll call you as soon as I know for certain.”

Russian Ambassador’s Residence. D.C.

We rested at the residence for a couple of hours after dinner and waited for darkness to fall. Close to midnight Billy drove us to Sixteenth Street.

Parked down the block from the ambassador’s residence, we watched the lights in the mansion go out one by one until everyone inside had to be asleep.

According to plan, Lukas and I stuck to the shadows and approached the old house as invisibly as possible.

Billy and our soldiers were well hidden on the premises and ready if needed, but I had decided on a plan of absolute silence.

The guard rounded the corner, his pace lazy. A cigarette dangled from his fingers. I stepped out, swift and quiet, clamping a hand over his mouth as my blade found its mark. Dead weight now. I dragged him into the bushes while Lukas worked the door. A click. A second click. The alarm was overridden, and he slipped inside alone.

I wanted in. Told him as much. He shut that down.

“Lee needs you alive,” he whispered. “I’ll handle Yakov.”

Then he was gone, swallowed up by the dark house.

I stayed low, melting into the hedges, ears straining for anything—footsteps, a muffled shout, the wrong kind of silence. If Lukas didn’t come out soon, I’d go in. Stealth be damned.

Inside, Lukas moved like a shadow. Max Slaten had trained both brothers, but Lukas was the best. Smaller in stature than Tommy, Lukas was wiry and quick.

The staircase loomed ahead—solid wood, polished to a gleam. The kind that creaked if you weren’t careful. He wasn’t careful, he was precise, a ghost, moving upward, barely breathing.

Six bedrooms. He checked them fast but methodically. Three were empty. One had double doors—obviously the main bedroom. Another was a home office. That left one.

The antique doorknob turned silently.

A shape in the bed. Slowly rising. Turning.

Lukas was faster.

A silent, swift step.

One hand cradled the chin, the other on the back of the skull.

A sharp twist. A loud crack.

The Russian never made a sound.

Lukas slipped out the way he went in, closing the door softly behind him. By the time I saw his silhouette emerge from the back entrance, my pulse was hammering in my head. I let out the breath I’d been holding and moved.

We crossed the grass fast and fluid, vaulting into the trucks. Tires rolled. Headlights stayed dark. In sixty seconds, we were blocks away, the night behind us.

Back to the White House where nobody would be looking for us.

Miller Time.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Wednesday, December 4th.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

When I came out of the bathroom, Lukas had the TV on in our room and he was watching the morning news.

“Just watching to see if a dead Russian assassin is newsworthy.”

“They say anything?”

“Not so far. The Russians will be burying the fact that they were harboring the sniper who tried to kill the president. They can’t cry like fuckin’ babies when he ends up dead on their turf. The Russian Ambo was harboring him, for chrissakes. He’d be going straight to death fuckin’ row.”

“One Russian down.”

“Out of how many?” asked Lukas. “That’s something we need to know, Tommy. Has your buddy found out yet?”

“If he has, he hasn’t told me. I’ll call him right after breakfast.”

“Another thing we need to find out is how many Iranians are in line to take you out. Can Kamps find that out for us? Better yet. Give us a list of names and we can wipe them out today. Make your walking around a lot safer, bro.”

“I’ll call Kamps. What time is it in Texas?”

“Look at your super watch. That’s what it’s for.”

“Five-thirty.”

“He ain’t up,” said Lukas. “Wait an hour or you’ll piss him off.”

Vipond Residence. Foggy Bottom. D.C.

Since he wasn’t going to work in Langley again until Stoner had been dethroned, Ben worked from home on things far more important than the crap Stoner was giving him.

He called Ivan in the Moscow office to see what he’d been able to find out.

“I’ve got feelers out everywhere, boss, but the only thing I have for sure is this story. One of the top Russian assets has been killed in D.C. He was found this morning with his neck broken.”

Donovan. Had to be. Fuckin’ balls on that kid.

Ben smiled. “Isn’t that interesting.”

“I doubt if you’ll hear it on the news because then the Russians would have to admit where he was, indicating his actions were sanctioned by Mother Russia.”

“Amazing,” said Ben. “Any hint of others being with him?”

“Sounded like he was there alone, boss, but I did find out there is another Russian agent in play. Either there at the capital or arriving soon.”

“Name?”

“No name yet, but it’s a woman and her target is either the president or vice president. That’s all I’ve got for now.”

“Great information, Ivan. Keep on it. We’re in a situation here, as you well know.”

“I’ll try to find out more. I’m happy you’re working again, boss. I’m not a big Stoner fan.”

“Me neither.” Ben laughed.

He ended the call and scrolled to Donovan’s number. Waited for two rings and Tommy picked up.

“Morning, Ben. Got something from the motherland?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Fantastic.”

“First of all, I want to confirm that a Russian agent was murdered at the residence of the Russian Ambo.”

Silence and then Tommy answered. “Yeah, I heard that.”

“Was the dead guy the hitter that did the damage to Armstrong?”

“Far as I know. He’s the one.”

“Excellent. Got something else from Ivan.”

“Shoot.”

“Russian agent coming or already here in the US. A woman shooter and her target will be Armstrong or Walsh. Unclear which one but watch for her.”

“Description? Picture?”

“Nothing yet, but Ivan is working on it.”

“Great job. Try to zero in on her today, Ben. I’ve got to know what she looks like. If she’s trying to finish Lee, she might be dressed as a nurse or whatever and she could try to get to him at the hospital.”

“I hear you.”

“If she’s after Walsh, she could hit him anywhere. Moving to or from the White House, or in his house, or who knows where. We’ll have to leave Walsh’s security to his Secret Service guys. For Lee, we’ll have all females re-vetted.”

“I’ll work on the ID of the woman, Tommy. Stoner tossed me out of the CIA building so I’m working from home if you need me.”

“Even better. Share nothing with Stoner and for chrissakes keep her out of your bedroom. She’s no good for you, Ben. She’s pushing that vagina into too many D.C. bedrooms. She’s bad news. Gotta wonder what her end game is.”

Ben laughed.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

I sat in my room with the door closed and called Kamps. “Hey, Tommy, are you still dodging bullets?”

“Yep, running between them, bro. Got a new problem coming into town. Might already be here. Hope you can find out something for me.”

“Got a name?”

“No name yet. Hope you can get me one. But it’s a woman backup hitter coming from Russia according to the CIA.”

“Jeeze.”

“I need a description or a picture at your earliest convenience if I’m going to keep a couple of people alive.”

“Who are her targets?”

“She’s shooting for the top two. Not confirmed if it’s one or both.”

Kamps let out a sigh. “I’ll put my other stuff aside and see what I can get for you.”

“Thanks, bro. You sound happier than the last time I talked to you. Got a new woman on the string?”

“Hell no. That’s something I don’t want. Roy came home, and I can breathe again.”

“Great news. Roy is back where he belongs.”

“I went a little overboard to welcome him back and I got him a cat at the shelter.”

I snorted. “I wish I’d been there to see you buying that.”

“Glad you weren’t. A stressful fuckin’ moment for me. Getting it home in a cab was even worse. It took a shit in the carrier. They might look cute and fuzzy, but they shit like a long-haul trucker who’s been eating tacos and beans for a week.”

Picturing Kamps carrying a shitty cat carrier made me howl.

I headed for the dining room after talking to Kamps and I was a little late. The boys had started breakfast without me. I poured myself a coffee, sat down and helped myself to ham and eggs and a couple of hot biscuits.

Lukas gave me a couple of looks and I needed to talk to him and get him up to speed.

When the soldiers went out for a smoke, Lukas and I took coffee into the sitting room, and I told him about the lady shooter coming.

“I’m more worried about the guys already here that are aiming for you. The new woman doesn’t want you and I’m not that worried about who she aims at. You’re my main concern.”

“Let’s make sure she don’t come to the hospital and try to finish Lee off today.”

“Yeah, we’ll do that, bro. But I’ll be watching out for you while you watch out for Number One. You’re my number one.”

“Same.” I smiled at my brother.

Farrington Residence. Georgetown. D.C.

Mateo was silent at breakfast. He was not a happy man and had given Annie an ultimatum—go back to Texas today or he would go alone.

Annie got the impression Mateo might not be at the ranch when she returned, and she’d made him a promise that she had to keep. She owed him for many things, including her life.

Annie patted Mateo’s hand and smiled at him. “We’re going home today, sweetheart. I’ve already talked to the pilot.”

He smiled. “Bueno.”

Annie and Jesse talked about the situation with Lee. “He’ll be released from the hospital today or tomorrow and things at the White House will return to normal. I agree with Mateo, Ace. You should go home. There’s nothing you can do here in person that you can’t accomplish from Texas.”

There’s much more I can do here, but I can’t push Mateo any harder.

Benton Crescent. Georgetown. D.C.

Yvonne sat alone at her kitchen table wondering why her life had deteriorated so badly in such a short time. She’d let ambition rule her life and as a result, she’d done all of the damage to herself without meaning to.

Her cell rang and she smiled when she saw it was Roy. “I’m so happy you called, Roy. I thought you might forget about me now that you were home.”

“I’d never forget about you, Yvonne. You’re my BFF.”

“That’s sweet, Roy.”

“I have exciting news to tell you.”

“I can’t imagine what’s making you sound so happy, Roy.”

“Chet bought me a cat.”

“A cat?” Yvonne laughed.

“He’s big and furry and orange and I love him over the moon just because Chet picked him out for me. Such a special gift. I call him Punkin.”

“How wonderful.” Yvonne couldn’t hold back the tears, she missed Roy so much. “Owning a cat is a new responsibility for you, Roy. You take good care of him.”

“I will.”

Yvonne ended the call and more tears came. It would take a long time to get used to living without Roy and it wasn’t something she was looking forward to. She also dreaded spending the day at the hospital working in Lee’s room, but she had to.

I used to enjoy my job. What happened?

George Washington University Hospital. D.C.

Lee was pleased to see Yvonne arrive right after the nurse had taken away his barely-touched breakfast tray. Hospital food was no match for Emily’s prowess in the kitchen.

A smile on her face, dressed in a dark blue designer suit, Yvonne looked like herself again. Her briefcase in her hand, she was ready to get to work.

Whatever she’d been going through besides the tragedy of losing her baby, she seemed to be over it. The ever-present tension was gone and Lee felt comfortable with her again.

“Wonderful to see you looking so well, Yvonne. You had me worried for a while.”

She laughed. “I had me worried too. I’m pleased you’re well enough to help me through a few problems I’ve been working on alone.”

“I’m happy I’m allowed to work today. Healing and boredom go hand in hand. A recent discovery I made.” He laughed.

Their workday went well, stopping for lunch and frequent breaks when the nurses intruded to take vital signs and fuss over the president.

Much had been accomplished before the vice president burst into the room and upset the apple cart.

“Nate, you look upset,” said Lee.

“Astonishing news you have to hear, Lee. We’ve been hashing it over in the Situation Room all morning wondering where it would lead.”

Lee put aside the document he was reading. “Go ahead and tell me. I’m listening.”

“Rebel forces calling themselves HTS have overthrown the Syrian government and Prime Minister Osama Juba has reportedly fled to Russia.”

“Who is supporting the HTS group in their coup?” asked Lee. “Surely they weren’t strong enough to do it on their own. Is it Iran?”

“I believe it is,” said Walsh. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“I’m not. Jesse is on top of the Syrian situation, and he’s been anticipating movement for some time.”

Yvonne nodded.

“Do we have any tangible evidence of Iranian support?” asked Lee.

“Nothing verified,” said Walsh, “but Iranian backing is strongly suspected.”

Lee turned his head, “Yvonne, your thoughts?”

“I’ll contact Director Dunnett and see what he’s heard. The NSA should have more details than any of the other agencies.”

“Definitely,” said Lee. “I presume Jesse was included in your meeting this morning, Nate?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll be out of here tomorrow morning,” said Lee, “and I’ll have Carter convene a meeting as soon as I get home.”

“Have you been officially released?” Yvonne sounded surprised.

“No. But I will be as soon as Doctor Halewood comes around. I can’t be stuck here while the world is burning itself up.”

Harry S. Truman Building. D.C.

Lukas and I went to the Truman building to talk to Jesse about the latest upheaval in the Middle East. On the way there I told Lukas what was bothering me.

“I don’t want to get messed up by the new problem before Lee is home and back on his feet and the Russian threat has been dealt with.”

“You can explain to Jesse that you can’t go anywhere right now,” said Lukas. “No fuckin’ side trips to the sandbox until we get this mess here at home cleaned up.”

“You think that’s why he wants to see me, bro? Is he gonna send me to fuckin’ Syria?”

“We’ll soon find out.”

When we got to Jesse’s office he gave us coffee while we listened to him talk about the takeover in Syria.

“You thinking about going there, boss?”

“I’m hoping I don’t have to, but if it comes down to it, a trip may be unavoidable.”

“Don’t wish that trip on you, boss.”

“I’d rather wait until Lee is back at full power and you have the threat against him in hand.”

“Same. Still a lot to be cleaned up, boss. So many hitters in D.C. right now it’s open season on me and Lee and the VP.”

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “Has Walsh been threatened?”

“Indirectly.”

“And your information came from…?”

“Vipond, boss. He’s helping me. He knows the agents running the field offices around the world and he can get the information I need. I wouldn’t trust Stoner with my fuckin’ grocery list.”

Jesse chuckled. “Lee appointed her director. He must trust her.”

“Could be trust, or…that other reason, boss.”

Jesse frowned. “You think so?”

“Gospel. My fault too…kinda.”

“Shit,” said Jesse. “I’m glad you shone the light on that for me, son. I hate being in the dark when so much depends on making the right decision the first time.”

“Copy that, boss.”

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

“Look at that,” said Lukas. “We got back here without any asshole taking pot shots at you, bro.”

“You think they’re they trying to make me let my guard down?”

“Could be, but maybe they’re not ready to come at you yet. With Yakov taken out, the Iranians may be using more caution.”

“You think the Iranian snipers share intel with the Russians?”

“Sure do.”

“Shit, Lukas, I don’t want to think about them being tight like that.” I took my guitar out of the case, sat down in the living room and practiced for a while to get rid of my stress.

My cell was on the coffee table, but I couldn’t hear it ringing. Lukas pointed at it, and I stopped playing long enough to check the screen.

“Kamps. Sorry. Didn’t hear the phone. I was playing my guitar.”

“Put Trigger away for now, Willy, this is important. Speedy has something for you. Meet him at the same bar as before. He’s going there now.”

“Got it. Leaving right now. Thanks.” I hollered for Lukas, “We have to go. Speedy has something.”

Last Call Dive Bar. Downtown D.C.

Speedy looked the same but maybe a little wilder as I sat down across from him. Smelled worse, but maybe he’d been too busy getting my info to shower.

Priorities.

He glanced at both Lukas and Billy, then leaned in close and pushed a filthy piece of paper across the table to me.

I read the dirty, smudged words, and they were golden.

Natasha Belkin.

She’s gonna hit the VP tonight.

800

I waved the server over and ordered a couple of pitchers and three shots of Don Angel. “You want food, Speedy?”

He nodded and picked up a menu while I pulled out my wallet and counted out the eight hundred bucks. I noticed his price was edging up. Each piece of information he brought me was costing me more.

Maybe street business worked that way. Drugs were fuckin’ expensive.

Vipond Residence. Foggy Bottom. D.C.

Immersed in a long-running British show he enjoyed, Ben felt a pang of annoyance when the doorbell rang. Stoner used to have a key, but she threw it at him the last time they broke up.

It was supposed to be for good, but you know how those things go. Ben was weak where Stoner was concerned and a bit needy.

Had to be her at the door. Nobody else would be standing on his doorstep this late. He opened the door and Lana smiled.

“What took you so long to get to the door? You jerking off?”

“You used that line on Armstrong yet?” Ben chuckled. “Can I be there when you do?”

“Shut up.” She pushed past him into the foyer.

“Why are you here? You had me thrown out of your office and you still expect me to service you?”

“The two things are unconnected.”

“In your dreams. They are not separate. Besides I’ve decided not to sleep with you any longer. I’m better off having no contact with you and going cold turkey.”

Stoner laughed as she tossed her coat over a chair. “You going cold turkey? Never happen. You have more bad habits than anybody I know, and you never give any of them up.”

“Can’t get close to you anyway, Stoner. I think I’m coming down with the flu.”

“You’re a liar, Benny-boy. You don’t look sick to me. Matter of fact you look hot in jeans and a T-shirt. Tell you what—why don’t I bend over the stove in the kitchen while I make you some chicken soup. Let’s see how sick you really are.”

She wasn’t leaving anytime soon and Ben had to hold onto his resolve. Old habits die hard. Ben Vipond could testify to that.

He tried to recall Tommy’s story about Stoner peddling her vagina around the Cap, and couldn’t remember it exactly, but the essence was there.

He laughed out loud and Stoner gave him a stare.

I’m not giving in.

One Observatory Circle. D.C.

After dinner, Lukas and I headed north to Observatory Circle. A familiar drive for us because we used to live there with Lee when he was VP.

The plan was loose. Watch for the Russian assassin and stop her. If she was worth her salt, she’d be doing her recon tonight, and if she was outstanding, she might take her best shot.

That’s what I would do.

We spot her and take her out or the MP’s arrest her and turn her over to the FBI for questioning. Better for us if she was alive to talk, but dead was still an option.

Full dark when we parked, spilled out of the vehicles and spread out across the road from the vice president’s residence.

Number One Observatory Circle was on U.S. Navy property, and the Navy took exception to trespassers. They were actually really pissy about it.

The Navy didn’t fuck around. Guards patrolled around the clock to protect the VP.

Wearing comms, we spread out around the fence line, stood in the dark, and watched for vehicles and people who had no business being in that area.

First hour produced nothing. Plenty of smoking in the shadows, the occasional murmured conversation. Standard stuff.

Then the woman all dressed in black appeared out of nowhere, and we were ready for her. She must have run from a few blocks away because we didn’t see a vehicle.

Alone.

I took off, closing the distance.

She heard me and stopped. Turned, raising her weapon.

I fired first. Dropped her where she stood.

Annie was always in my head. I could hear her say it every fuckin’ time.

Shoot first, sugar.

Lukas and I closed, weapons trained on her.

She was breathing hard and moaning.

Death rattle.

“You got her above the waist,” Lukas said, crouching beside her. “Right side. She’s bleeding like a stuck pig.”

I exhaled, then spoke over the comms. “One down. Come and get her.”

Lewicki and his men were right there to take her into custody. They dragged her to the sidewalk to wait for an ambulance.

“Get her out of here.”

“We’ve got her, Marshal.”

“She might not be alone,” said Lukas. “Keep Walsh inside until the grounds are searched.”

Too late.

The VP’s dog started barking. Must’ve heard the shot or heard voices that put him on alert. The barking made Vice President Walsh curious, and he wandered out the front door in his robe to see what was going on.

I ran back to the front gate hollering, “Don’t come out here, sir. Go back in the house. We have this covered.”

“Marshal Donovan, what are you doing out here?”

“Doing my job, sir. Please go back inside. Nothing for you to worry about. Go inside.”

Not a good listener, Walsh kept coming towards us. “Did I hear a shot? Maisie heard something out here, and started barking.”

“It’s not safe for you to be out here, sir.” I waved to Walsh’s security detail and hollered. “Best if the VP waits inside.”

“Let’s go inside, Mister Vice President,” said one of the agents on duty.

“No,” he said firmly, “tell me what’s going on, dammit.”

His security detail rushed toward their primary, but the old man kept marching down the driveway, irate.

Crack.

A single, distant shot.

Walsh crumpled to the ground.

His agents lunged, yelling into their radios as the blood pool expanded quickly on the pavement.

I hit my comm and called Dawson, head of the FBI terrorism unit. “Dawson, bust your ass and get out to the VP’s residence at the Observatory. He’s down.”

The first ambulance screamed into view. The medics jumped out and moved toward the Russian sniper lying on the sidewalk because she was closest.

I stopped them. “She waits. VP goes first.”

They worked fast. So much blood loss.

Lukas lit a cigarette and shook his head. “He won’t make it.”

“Shit, he didn’t look good,” said Billy. “Was he hit in the neck?”

“Hard to tell there was so much fuckin’ blood,” I said. “Still breathing when they took him. I heard one of the medics say that. That’s a good sign.”

Lukas inhaled a drag from his smoke. “He’ll never make it to the hospital.”

“Ya’ think?”

“Fuckin’ guarantee it.”

My brother the doctor.

“Hope he makes it,” said Billy. “We got enough trouble already.”

“Sure do. Let’s go to the hospital. The FBI can get my statement there if they need it. At this point, I don’t give a shit what they need.”

While Billy drove, I called Vipond and woke him up. “Stoner better not be in your bed.”

He sounded groggy. “Jesus, Donovan, is that why you called?”

“Nope. The Russians just took out the VP. Get up and make some fuckin’ calls.”

“Christ. I’m up.”

Jesse was next and I woke him up too. Nothing he could do until morning, but I wanted him to know.

Everything is going to shit.

George Washington Memorial Hospital. D.C.

The press corps was still there, cordoned off by soldiers as they waited for a glimpse of the president. When they heard that the VP was on his way, they went fuckin’ nuts. No way of telling how the media maniacs got their information before the rest of the population, but they were in a goddamn feeding frenzy.

I mean, the two top guys in the free world were hospitalized together.

Not a good look for the U.S.

Billy stopped the Jeep in the loop, and I grabbed the door handle. “Y’all go to the residence and sleep. I’ll stay with him until we bring him home in the morning.”

“I’m stayin’ with you, bro,” said Lukas.

“I guess we’re staying, Billy. I’m not letting nobody named Natasha or Boris shoot the boss, and Lukas is watching my back.”

“Good copy, boss.”

Me and Lukas waited in the lobby until Billy parked the Jeep and caught up to us.

Upstairs on Lee’s floor, we didn’t get a friendly reception. The head nurse on duty said we couldn’t go into the president’s room because he was sleeping.

“I’m afraid I have to go in there, ma’am. And just so you know, I’m gonna sleep in his room all night. My brother Lukas here will be sleeping right outside his door. Can you get Lukas a chair, please?”

“Is the president in danger? You are making me extremely nervous, young man.”

“Marshal Donovan, ma’am. And the answer is yes. At this moment, the president needs extra protection.”

“I’ll get…Lukas a chair.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Appreciate it.”

With Lukas guarding the door to Lee’s room, I went inside and moved the guest chair closer to the bed. I didn’t need to wake Lee up and tell him the bad news. He’d find out as soon as he opened his fuckin’ eyes in the morning.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Thursday, December 5th.

Farrington Residence. Georgetown. D.C.

Having coffee together at the dining room table while Lynette fixed breakfast, Annie and Jesse talked about the assassination and Annie felt she could be useful at the capital if she stayed another day or two.

Mateo shook his head and nixed it, and Annie said nothing more.

Sensing the tension, Jesse attempted some ‘kitchen table diplomacy.’ “I’d love for you to stay longer, but Mateo has a point. Texas is far safer for you than D.C., Ace.”

Mateo smiled at Jesse, pleased he had an ally.

Right after breakfast Annie said goodbye to Jesse and she and Mateo left for the airport. It hadn’t been a pleasant trip for Mateo, but both he and Annie had adjusting to do while they settled into their new relationship.

Annie was used to doing whatever she wanted to do, and Mateo was used to commanding the full attention of hundreds of bikers, not one of them willing to challenge his authority.

Jesse headed for the Truman Building. With Walsh wiped out and Armstrong at about a tenth of his power, a lot of decisions would have to be made by the Secretary of State.

Jesse felt the pressure in his chest.

George Washington University Hospital.

Lee woke up and saw me sleeping in the chair next to his bed and instantly knew something was wrong. Crammed into an uncomfortable chair and listening to the noise of the monitors, the night had been fuckin’ endless.

“Tommy? Did you sleep here all night?”

“Yeah, boss, it ain’t good.” I flicked the TV on so the boss could watch the news. Might be easier than me telling him what the rest of the world already knew.

The news guy wearing a blue suit and his saddest face said, “Late last evening at his residence, Vice President Nathan Walsh was shot down by a sniper. He was rushed to George Washington University Hospital but tragically died enroute.”

Lukas was right about that.

The same story would be on every channel all day long. The press were going nuts.

Lee tried to sit up. “I have to go to the White House and calm the waters.”

“Damned right you do, boss. Me and Lukas will get you there.”

“I’ll call Amanda Walsh while you find Doctor Halewood, Tommy. She has to let me out of here.”

“Copy that, boss.” I stood up and stretched. “Finding the doc.” I opened the door, and Dan Black was right there talking to Lukas.

They handed me a shitty hospital coffee. “Dan, the boss just heard about Walsh and wants to go home now. I’m rounding up the doc. Can you wrangle us some bulletproof transportation?”

Dan’s face became stone. “On it.”

“Lukas, you keep standing guard.”

My brother set his coffee on the chair and stood in front of the door. “Not movin’ for nothin’.”

“Thanks. I’ll get the doc. We have to get rolling.”

The head nurse got hold of Doctor Halewood, telling her the president was leaving. I could hear her reply from my side of the desk.

She appeared moments later and stomped into Lee’s room, her face like a thundercloud. “I heard you’re thinking of leaving the hospital, sir.”

“I’m afraid I have to leave immediately Doctor Halewood. Events have spiraled out of control, and there is no alternative that I can see.”

“Nothing can be so important you have to risk your health, sir.”

Using the tough voice he saved for…almost no situation, Lee spoke to the doc, “Vice President Walsh has been assassinated, Doctor, and I’m getting out of this bed and going to the Oval Office. Please sign the appropriate papers immediately, or I’ll find someone who can.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do it right now.” She rushed out of the room, white coat flying.

Dan burst through the door, and he had the ambulance lined up to take Lee home. Orderlies were on their way to help him get dressed and get downstairs to the ambulance bay on the bottom level.

Lukas trusted no one and whispered to me outside Lee’s door, “They’ll be watching for the ambulance.”

“That thought crossed my mind, bro. Got a better idea?”

“Put the FBI terrorist squad in the ambulance and let them go first. We put Lee in the Humvee and take a different route with our soldiers.”

“Great idea. Dan, call in more Secret Service agents to go in the ambulance so it looks legit. You and a few of your security detail can join us, and my soldier posse can follow behind.”

Dan nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Me and Lukas went down to the ambulance bay and watched while Dawson, the agent in charge of the FBI terrorist unit, talked to his men and prepared them for an attack on the ambulance between the hospital and the White House.

He positioned units all along the route, so they’d only be minutes away from any attack point and close enough to grab the terrorists. Unknown quantity. One or a dozen. They were among us. Looked like us. Talked like us. Sleepers.

Once the team was fully briefed, the ambulance left the hospital, and we went back to Lee’s room to get him.

“The ambulance has left the building, boss. You’re up.”

With the help of two orderlies, Lee settled into his wheelchair. “Do you really think they’re brazen enough to attack an ambulance in broad daylight, son?”

“No doubt in my mind, boss. They just killed Nate on U.S. soil, for chrissakes. They ain’t gonna stop now.”

“I guess that’s true.” Lee sounded weak, and I figured the trip might be too much for him.

We ain’t even left his room yet and he’s nearly done.

Major Lewicki came in next, smiling broadly. His men followed, all wearing doctor’s coats. The barrels of their rifles occasionally peaked through the coats. “You ready for your ride through town in the Humvee, sir?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Major. Let’s do it.”

“Copy that, sir. Honor to have the Commander in Chief ride with me and my men.”

“Thank you, Major, and thank you and your men for your service.”

The ‘doctors’ pushed the wheelchair and surrounded Lee in a protective cluster while Lukas carried Lee’s bag.

I walked ahead, looking for anything.

We exited the door to the doctors’ parking lot. The Humvee was right outside, motor running, with one of Lewicki’s men behind the wheel.

The Major would ride in the passenger seat, and Lee would ride in the back, wedged between me and Lukas. The extra soldiers would ride in our Jeep with Billy and their other Hummer. They would act as lead and chase vehicles in case there were any problems.

Pennsylvania Avenue. Washington. D.C.

Looked like the fuckin’ Rose Parade on New Year’s Day when I saw the video of it later. Mobs of people lining both sides of Pennsylvania Avenue to watch the ambulance carrying President Armstrong go by.

Black SUVs in the lead and following behind, the convoy stopped for the traffic light at Senatorial Drive and that’s when the attack took place.

Pre-planned by the terrorists, the traffic lights were attack points anticipated by Dawson and his crew of terrorist fighters.

The doors of two black SUV’s opened wide and four terrorists jumped out of each. They ran full out towards the ambulance, blasting rounds from their AKs and pinning Dawson and his men inside.

Dawson’s crew returned fire out the windows, but their range was limited from the cab of the ambulance, and the terrorists kept coming.

In a fanatical frenzy to kill the leader of the infidels, they jerked open the double doors at the back of the ambulance and that was their fatal error.

Dawson’s team was armed to the teeth inside the bus and barricaded behind riot shields. They massacred the attackers the moment they yanked the doors open.

Special Agent Lydell Dawson was the only agent wounded because he insisted on driving the ambulance to keep his men safe.

He was rushed to the hospital by members of his own task force.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

The Humvees approached the White House with no fanfare and passed by about a million people lining the sidewalk outside the front gate. The throng of citizens weren’t waiting for trucks filled with army guys, and they barely gave them a glance.

The crowd held their places waiting for an ambulance arriving from George Washington University Hospital carrying their leader.

We sneaked past the throng of citizens and reporters with none of them being any the wiser and parked behind the White House.

From there, the staff was on alert—thanks to Ted—and Lee was met by several doctors and taken in the back way smoothly and without any trouble.

Upstairs in the Residence, there was a lot going on. The president’s private quarters had been turned into a mini-hospital. Medical people had been imported from the hospital, and they buzzed around making sure the boss wasn’t wasted from his trip.

They had almost finished setting up his bedroom again like a hospital room.

Lee wasn’t pleased to see them all milling around and he was having none of it. “Who called for all these medical people to be here?”

“It was me, Lee. It’s too soon for you to be released from the hospital and I’m not taking any chances.”

Lee frowned. “But so many, Yvonne? Can’t we scale it down a bit?”

“If that’s what you want, Lee, I’m happy to make an adjustment in the size of the medical staff but I’m not dismissing them all.”

He managed half a smile. “Thanks, Yvonne. Listen to me. I’ve turned into a grumpy old man, just like Jack Lemon.”

“At least you’re not asking to go ice fishing.”

They both laughed.

With Lee back home, reunited with Roxy, and settling in, I had free time to hunker down in my room and make some phone calls.

First one was to Farrell to check on the kids. “All good here, cuz. Kids are missing you, but they aren’t crying or anything. They’re too young to do that. I know I ask you this every fuckin’ time we talk, but do you know when you’ll be home?”

“Couple more days. Got Lee home to the White House a few minutes ago and he’s doing well. A long way to go before he’s at top speed, but he’s trying.”

“Great. It was touch and go for a while.”

“Sure was. We almost lost him.”

Next I called Ricki and tried to hang onto her. Last time I was away too long, she wandered off and started dating a dusty cowboy down the road. I had to do better.

“Hey, babe. How are you doing? Sorry this is taking so long, but Lee got hurt real bad and it’s taking me longer than I thought.”

“Who’s Lee?”

“A guy I know in D.C. We’re friends.”

One of the things I loved most about Ricki was the tiny world she lived in. She never questioned it and never needed anything more.

“I miss you, Tommy.”

“When I come home do you want to go Christmas shopping? I want to buy you a ring.”

“What kind of a ring?”

“A pretty one that means you’re my girlfriend and we’re a couple. Want that kind?”

“Course, I do, Tommy. I love you.”

“Same, Ricki. You think about that or go to some stores with you mom and look at rings.”

“I’m excited now, Tommy. Sometimes I get sad when you don’t come home, and I think you forgot about me.”

“Never happen. I never forget about you, Ricki. You’re my girl.”

“Come home soon, Tommy.”

“I hope so.”

The next incoming call was from Granddad at the NSA. “I’ve been watching the news, Tommy. Can you bring me up to speed on your progress, son?”

“Sure, Granddad.” I filled him in on everything I knew and then he had information for me too.

“The chatter we picked up confirms that the woman you shot on the Observatory grounds was a decoy for a well-known Russian sniper named, Yuri Laskin. He’s the one who shot Walsh.”

“Any idea where he is now?”

“None. But if he was smart, he’d already be back in Russia.”

“True dat. I’ll see if Vipond can find out from his guy in Moscow.”

“Let me know, son. I’m keeping track of all the players in this little game.”

“Copy that, Granddad.”

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Lee was able to sit up long enough to eat dinner with all of us in the dining room. June fussed over him, and she was happy as hell to see a full dining room table.

Yvonne stayed for dinner and Lee seemed happier than he’d been in a long time. “It’s a simple thing,” said Lee, “but I’m thrilled to be sitting at my own dining room table eating dinner with all of you.”

Major Lewicki held up his glass. “A toast to your speedy recovery, sir.”

Close to nine o’clock, another guest arrived, and I wasn’t a bit happy to see her. Daniel showed Lana Stoner into the living room. “Director Stoner is here to see you, sir.”

Lee’s bruised face lit up and he looked pretty happy to see Stoner. I didn’t want him to be in too deep with her. My fault because I’d given him the go sign thinking she’d be a fun distraction for him, but now I wished I hadn’t encouraged it.

Stoner was a manipulator and just another one of the liars that clawed their way to the top in Washington. Not an ounce of patriotism or honor in her whole body.

Seeing her here made me thing of Vipond because she was doing him too and playing one against the other. Pretty obvious but Lee would be crushed if I gave him that news bulletin.

Instead, I went to the sitting room, closed the door and called Ben.

“Tommy, I was hoping you’d call.”

“Yep. Here I am. Granddad gave me the name of the Russian who hit Walsh.”

“Great. We know his name?”

“Yuri Laskin.”

“I’m writing it down.”

“Ask Ivan if he’s still here in D.C. or if he grabbed a ride home as soon as he did the job. I’m not going to spend days looking for him here if he’s already sitting in a Moscow bar.”

“I’ll call right away. It will be earlier over there. Call you back as soon as I have the answer.”

“Copy. FYI, Stoner is here hanging around. She arrived a few minutes ago.”

“Huh. Good to know. I…we’re…not getting along well at the moment. She took my job from me and I’m not happy about it.”

“You want your job back?”

“Of course I do. I’m not ready to retire and sitting at home drives me crazy.”

“See what I can do, Ben.”

“Appreciate it, kid.”

“Pleasure’s all mine. Any time I can throw a wrench in Stoner’s plan, it’s a good day.”

Ben chuckled.

Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange. Texas.

Back home on the ranch, Annie was still annoyed Mateo had been heavy-handed and forced the issue. While Tommy was fighting forces trying to destroy the administration, and ultimately the country, she wanted to be there in D.C. helping him.

Mateo was happy to be home and had reminded her several times of her promise not to work if he gave up the Diamontes and retired.

Fair is fair.

Except in love and war.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Friday, December 6th.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

I opened my eyes seeing Lana Stoner’s face in my head. She was hanging around Lee and putting the moves on him and there was nothing genuine or right about it. She was bothering me a lot. I had to fix it because I told Lee to go for it.

Can I trust Vipond not to be telling her stuff?

The private residence had never been so full of people. Felt so fuckin’ weird and I knew for certain that Lukas hated it a lot. He was the opposite of a people person.

When we all squeezed in around the dining room table, Lee wanted to know the plan for the day.

His plan was to sit quietly and stay safe, but I didn’t say that out loud.

Yvonne arrived just before breakfast was served by June and her helpers and Lee was happy to see her.

“Yvonne, I’m so happy you could join us.”

“I thought we might need an early start, Lee. So much to catch up on. I had another thought overnight and I wanted to run it by you.” She glanced around the table, by all of you, actually.”

“What’s your thought, Yvonne?” asked Lee.

I noticed Lukas staring across the table at her and couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing.

“What do you think about a week at Camp David? Skeleton staff, some medical people. We would be isolated and would get a lot done away from the ongoing insanity. Might be just what you need to get your legs back under you, sir.”

“Sounds wonderful, but I’d have to be back for Nate’s funeral,” said Lee.

“Do we have a date for that?” asked Yvonne.

“No, I’ve heard nothing yet from Amanda,” said Lee. “Perhaps Carter knows or could find out.”

I didn’t mind the Camp David idea. It would get Lee out of the city until things were cleaned up, and at the same time give him more time to heal.

As we left the dining room, Yvonne pulled me aside and whispered, “I want to get Lee away from Lana Stoner.”

“I’m in favor of that, Vonnie. One hundred and ten percent.”

She smiled. “Good. I don’t trust her.”

“Welcome to the club.”

Vipond Residence. Foggy Bottom. D.C.

In no hurry to get dressed because he had nowhere to go, Ben stood at the kitchen counter in his pajama bottoms waiting for the light to come on telling him the coffee was ready. The doorbell rang and he cursed.

“Piss off, whoever you are. I’m not dressed.”

As he walked out of the kitchen, he could hear Stoner hollering, “Let me in, Ben. I don’t have all day.”

Jesus, not her again.

He opened the door a crack. “Why are you here so early in the morning.”

“Because I wanted to see you before I went to work. My detail is waiting for me.”

“I don’t want to see your face this early in the morning.”

“Too fucking bad. I need you to do something for me. And I want it done right away.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Ben started shutting the door.

Lana jammed her Jimmy Choo into the door gap. “Too fucking bad,” she growled. “You need to do something for me, and it has to be done right away.”

“You’ve got lipstick on your teeth.”

“Do not. My makeup is perfect.”

Ben chuckled. “Don’t look in the mirror.”

“Listen to me, Benny-boy, you either do this favor for me or your time is D.C. is over. I know things about you that will ruin you.”

“Tell me what you want so I can say no again.”

“I want Marshal Donovan out of the residence. Don’t care how you do it. He can be dead or back in Texas doing whatever he does there. Make it happen.”

Ben laughed harder.

“What is your end-goal with Armstrong anyway? Do you want to be FLOTUS or are you aiming higher than that?”

Stoner’s turn to laugh. “Course I want that. Everybody does. Get there and you’re one step away.”

“You’ll never get Donovan away from Armstrong. He protects the president like a fuckin’ pit bull and he’s damned good at it.”

“You’ve got shady connections, Ben. Do it.”

“Don’t think it’s possible. Listen to what I’m telling you, Stoner.” Ben poured himself a coffee and added a little cream.

“You’re asking for a fight that’s way out of your weight class, Stoner. You’ll be the one banned from the White House. Sure as hell won’t be Donovan.”

Lana smacked the front door in anger. “Just get it fucking done, or you’ll regret it.”

Harry S. Truman Building. D.C.

Jesse stared out the window at the city below him trying to put the events of the past few days into perspective. He had a bad feeling that he was missing a piece of the puzzle. Something wasn’t right.

He picked up his secure phone and called Tommy.

“Hey, boss. What’s up?”

“Sitting at my desk trying to get a handle on everything that’s swirling around D.C. right now. Wish I had a read on who is causing all this chaos.”

“Seems like it’s coming from two or three directions, boss, but that could be a lie or deliberate smoke and mirrors.”

“You have an opinion?”

“Yeah, I do, but nothin’ solid, and I don’t have the bandwidth to dig into it right now. I’m focused on helping Yvonne. She wants Lee to go to Camp David to be safe and to heal. She mentioned it at breakfast, and Lee was down for it.”

“Not a bad idea.”

“If Lee goes, I want you to go with him. You can keep him on track. He’s weak and I don’t want anybody messing with his head right now. Would be easy to talk him into something that ain’t right.”

“What are you talking about, son?”

“Lana Stoner. She ain’t good for him, boss. Fuckin’ poison oozes out of her. She has an agenda, I’m sure of it.”

“You’re sure of this?”

Tommy snorted. “Not sure of anything, boss, but my gut says she’s up to somethin’.”

“Good enough for me. So, you want me to go with Lee to Camp David and make sure Lee and Lana are separated.”

“Yep. Except Lee mentioned coming back for Walsh’s funeral. Do you know what day that will be?”

“Not yet. I haven’t heard anything, but it will be a huge state funeral. An all-day affair.”

“Yeah another protection nightmare. I feel for the Secret Service guys. I’m surprised they show up for work in the morning.”

Jesse chuckled.

Vipond Residence. Foggy Bottom. D.C.

Figuring Ben knew Stoner better than anybody, me and Lukas headed to his place to find out the truth about her. I had a creepy feeling she was messing with Lee’s head, and it wouldn’t take much to mess him up for good. He was in rough shape already.

Ben knew we were coming and had coffee on for us. Billy waited in the Jeep while the soldiers wandered around Ben’s landscaped acre. He had a nice house on a large lot on a quiet street.

A guy with money in the bank.

“Come in, Donovans.” He chuckled.

“Two for the price of one.” He shook hands with Lukas. “Don’t know you as well as your brother, but you look like you could take me in a fair fight.”

“Yeah, he could.” I laughed.

We sat at the kitchen table and Ben poured coffee for us. “Why would the Russians want Walsh out of the way?” I asked.

“Could be to weaken the admin,” said Ben. “With Lee in the hospital and the VP completely out of the picture, it would be the ideal time for them to make a move on a weaker country wholly dependent on our protection.”

“Or this could be payback for their war guy we took out,” I said.

Ben nodded. “Could be as simple as that.”

Lukas rarely spoke unless he had something mind-blowing to say. “Or if they wanted someone else to be second in command.”

Ben’s blue eyes fastened on Lukas’ dark brown eyes that gave nothing away. “Yes, but who is close to filling that spot as interim VP who would be sympathetic to the Russian agenda?”

We were thinking about that when Ben’s cell rang, and it was Moscow calling. “Ivan. Good to hear from you.” Ben put the call on speaker for us. “Did you find Yuri Laskin?”

“Yes, boss. Yuri is in his apartment in Moscow. It’s been verified. He’s home and job well-done and all that.”

“Fantastic information, Ivan. Appreciate it.”

“No problem, boss. I’m here for you.”

Ben ended the call saying, “So Laskin comes, and hits Walsh and his job is done. He doesn’t bother with Lee. Why do they want Walsh out of the way?”

Lukas spoke again in his quiet voice that always scared the crap out of me. “We’ll find out the reason when they move their next chess piece.”

“Fuck, Lukas,” said Ben. “That’s a frightening analogy.”

NSA Headquarters. Fort Meade. Maryland.

Next stop was the NSA. I had to clean up the mess at the Cap and get home. All the bullshit was starting to piss me off. When that happened, I tended to lose control and smash stuff. Heads and anything else that got in my way.

Dunnett smiled when me and Lukas and Billy walked in and sat down in the guest chairs in front of his desk.

“Nice to see you boys. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“I’d like everything you’ve got on Lana Stoner, Granddad. I want to know if there’s anything in her past that would give me a hint what the fuck she’s doing.”

“Hint of what, son? She’d the director of the CIA. That would take a lot of background vetting before she ever got to be Deputy Director, which she was for quite some time before her recent promotion.”

“I don’t trust her and there’s something weird about her.”

Dunnett smiled. “You think she might be a double agent, son?”

“Worse than double, Granddad. I think she’s a sleeper and she worked her way up from the bottom. She could’ve been born here, or maybe it just looks like she was. I need her birth country, Granddad. Or who her real parents were and where they came from…like that.”

Dunnett gave a hearty laugh. “I don’t see how her ID is fake, son. Not after all her years with the CIA.”

“Yeah, it’s convincing, ain’t it? Can I have everything the NSA has on her?”

“Of course. I’ll send it to …where?”

“Umm…I don’t want it on my phone, and I don’t have a laptop.”

“Send it to my laptop,” said Lukas. “I’ll give you my email, Granddad.”

Dunnett smiled. First time Lukas ever called him that. Dunnett was Lukas’ grandfather as much as he was mine.

I nodded. “Yeah, do that. Send it to Lukas.”

As soon as we got to the Jeep, I called Kamps and put him on Stoner. “I have this weird feeling she’s not what she’s pretending to be, bro. Find out if she could be…like a sleeper agent. If she is, and I’m right, we need to know the country she’s working for.”

“Jesus, Tommy. She’s the new Director of the CIA. I don’t see how she could have got that high in the admin without being found out.”

“That’s what Granddad said.”

“You mentioned this to Dunnett?”

“Yep. It’s bothering me a helluva lot.”

“Okay, I’ll look for any flaws in her background,” said Kamps, “but I doubt there will be any.”

“Find a tiny thing that they didn’t get right, and I’ll personally give you a big bonus.”

“I don’t want your money, but I damn well want to know if she’s legit. She’s screwing Armstrong…or so you told me.”

“That’s another level of control, ain’t it?”

“For sure, it is. I’m starting on her right now.”

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

A lot of prep work had to be done to get Lee ready to go to Camp David. Yvonne packed clothes for a week. One doctor and one nurse would have to be included in the staff we were taking.

Camp David had its own staff of cooks, housekeepers and security people, and they would’ve been alerted to prepare for a presidential visit.

Dan Black was taking care of security for the trip to the park, and this time he’d be doubling up on manpower in case—just in case. There had been a lot of those cases lately.

Dan sent the medical team with their equipment on the first chopper with Ted, Yvonne, the two dogs, and Carter Levalley, Chief of Staff.

Mobs of people lined the fence and shouted and waved, hoping to catch a glimpse of the president. They were out of luck on the first chopper, but they might do better with the second one.

So would a sniper, and Dan was keenly aware. Lee would be put on the chopper without giving any opportunities to a guy looking through a scope.

Dozens of press people were mixed in with the crowd on the street and they took pictures of anything and anybody who moved hoping to catch someone of importance.

I went back upstairs to see if Lee was ready to go.

Dan had him sitting in a wheelchair with his winterwear on. He was bundled up against the December weather with a scarf around his neck and a watch cap on his head.

Nobody could tell it was him from a distance.

“All set, boss?”

Lee smiled. “I’m ready for the Camp David adventure, Tommy. Let’s do it. This will be Ted’s first trip out there and it will be fun for both of us with the dogs.”

You won’t be running through the forest with the dogs, boss.

I was worried out of my skull about getting Lee into the chopper without a rain of bullets coming down on him. Dan assured me he had it covered, but there was always a way. If they killed the VP what was stopping them from going all the way and wiping out the entire administration?

Made me decide then and there, when this was over I’d go to that goddamned country—wherever it was—and I’d wipe out those sons of bitches before they knew what fuckin’ hit them. See how they liked some Donovan payback.

“Hold what you got, bro,” Lukas whispered to me as Dan got Lee into the chopper.

No bullets. Just the sound of the people at the fence cheering Lee on.

Huh. Nobody took a pot shot at me either.

Once the president was in, I climbed in after him, then Lukas and Billy and the rest of my protection unit.

As the bird took off and flew into the air without any problems, I let out a sigh of relief. “Jesus, Lukas, I thought it would be worse than that on the front lawn.”

Lukas grinned. “Not yet. Something to look forward to, bro.”

“Don’t even fuckin’ say that.”

Camp David. Catoctin Mountain Park. Maryland.

Our helo landed and a big bunch of people ran towards us to help the president out of the chopper and into the Aspen Lodge. Yvonne stood in the background watching and giving me a little wave.

The nurse and doctor were front and center. Lee was seated in a wheelchair and the nurse pushed him with all due speed towards the lodge where he would be safe.

Once we were inside and settled into our assigned rooms, it was time for lunch. We headed for the dining room and the staff was surprisingly organized with the short notice they’d been given.

“I hope the food is as good as at the White House,” whispered Lukas. “I’m kinda spoiled by Emily’s cooking.”

“You should look into that a little more seriously, bro. She’d like it in Texas.”

Lukas laughed. “I don’t think so. There must be a lot of great cooks in Texas that look as good as her.”

“You found one yet?”

“Nope. Not looking.”

“You should rest this afternoon, boss,” I said. “Probably took it out of you flying out here.”

“I am tired, Tommy. Good advice. I might rest for an hour before I attempt to get some work done. You guys enjoy the place. There are horses in the stables you can ride the trails if you want some fresh air.”

“Might do that,” I said. “I want to check out the property.”

“Security has probably already done it, son. You don’t need to worry.”

I laughed. “That’s what I do best, boss. I’m in charge of worrying.”

Billy walked with us to the stables to check out the horses. The air was brisk and pretty chilly, but the sky was clear and there was no snow on the ground.

Unusual for the park Camp David was a part of, Catoctin Mountain Park in north central Maryland. Presidents had been coming here for over twenty years to work, entertain guests from around the world and just to relax when they had the time.

“It’s nice here,” said Billy. “Never thought I’d get to see it in my lifetime.”

I laughed. “And here you are. Enjoy yourself, Billy. We shouldn’t have too much to do here unless…”

“Unless what?” asked Lukas.

I shrugged. “Unless. That’s all I meant.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Saturday, December 7th.

Camp David. Catoctin Mountain Park. Maryland.

Breakfast was good, but it didn’t hold a candle to Emily’s breakfast burritos. Afterward, I wandered outside to have a smoke with Billy and Lukas. We were standing on the stone patio when the security alarm blared through the crisp morning air.

“Here we go,” Lukas smirked, flicking his cigarette.

I crushed mine under my boot and bolted inside. Lee had moved to the sofa in the great room, relaxed, oblivious of the alarm still screaming. And then I saw her.

“Hey, Tommy,” he flashed a big smile. “Look who’s here. Lana decided to come up for a couple of days. Isn’t that great?”

“Sure is, boss.”

Goddamned fantastic.

Dan ran in, out of breath, his hand on his earpiece. He gave me a look, and I motioned for him to wait.

“Goddamned fantastic, boss. How’d you get here, Lana?”

“I drove. Only took me an hour.”

“Where’d you park?”

“My car is at the gate.” She laughed like it was all a big joke.

“Why would they make you leave your car at the gate?”

Lana fixed me with a viper-glare. “No idea, Donovan. I don’t make the rules. I just follow them. They told me to walk up, so I did.”

She tossed her head and laughed. “Funny thing—the guards didn’t recognize me and weren’t going to let me in.”

“Did you set off the alarm?”

Stoner snuggled against Lee, rubbing her considerable assets against this arm. He wasn’t listening. “One of the guards accidentally set it off.”

Accidentally. Right.

Dan cast a quick glance at me, then turned on his heel and disappeared back outside. Good. He was on it.

“Your security detail with you, Lana?” I asked.

“Of course. They’re hard to shake.” More laughing. “Those boys are around here somewhere.” She waved her hand around.

Stoner was all fun and good times, but something was off. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

I took a step back, reaching for my phone. Before I could make the call, Yvonne intercepted me in the hallway.

“Where did she come from, Tommy?” Yvonne hissed, glancing over her shoulder. “That woman is freaking me out. She is bad news.”

“Got any suggestions?”

Yvonne scowled. “I can think of one.”

“We have to be sure first, and I’m working on that. For now, stay close to Lee and make sure Stoner doesn’t try to get him out of the lodge. None of those fuckin’ romantic walks in the woods.”

“I hear you.” Yvonne’s eyes widened. “Do you think she would physical hurt him?”

“You bet your ass I do. She’s here for a reason and it ain’t just for warming up his bed.”

“Ah, Jeeze, Tommy. I’ll be watchful.”

“I’m counting on you, babe.”

I ducked into the nearest powder room and called Kamps. “Stoner paid a surprise visit to Camp David and her being here is freaking me out along with several other people.”

“Is Yvonne there with Number One? I don’t want her getting hurt. Promise me you’ll watch out for her, kid.”

“I will.”

“How did Stoner get there?”

“Says she drove.”

“I’ve been working on her background, and I think I found a glitch in her ID. I have to go deeper with a guy I knows who works the dark web.”

“Great. Time is short. She’s here for a reason.”

“Got it. I’ll call you as soon as I know.”

“Good copy.”

While I was in the little bathroom, I leaned on the sink and called Vipond.”

“Tommy, I thought you went to Camp David with the president.”

“I’m here, but Stoner drove up here unannounced. You know anything about that?”

“You’re kidding. You can’t just drop into Camp David.”

“Exactly what she did.”

“She alone?”

“Says she drove up alone with her detail.”

“You actually seen the detail?” asked Vipond.

“No.”

“You’re making me nervous, Donovan.” Silence. Then, “The only thing to take out a security team is another team of hitters, and there’s a lot of dense woods around that lodge.”

“Copy that. I have to make a call.”

“Attaboy.”

I called Granddad because he was somebody who could get me more men in an instant.

“Tommy, how’s Camp David?”

“Umm…Director Stoner popped in for a surprise visit.”

“Unusual.”

“Ain’t it?”

“What are you thinking, son?”

“Couple of choppers of soldiers is what I would like to see land here in the next twenty minutes. I’m thinking guys with Stoner could be in the woods and I wouldn’t know it. We need to search.”

“And if Director Stoner is legitimate and it’s a false alarm, son? How do we explain that to the president?”

I laughed. “I’ll say you sent them because after Nate being killed, you were worried about security.”

He chuckled too. “I’ll say it was you.”

“I’m okay with that. If I’m wrong, I look like a paranoid jackass.” I hung up, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the powder room. Time to get ahead of this before it was too damned late.

I stepped into the hallway and Ted and Lukas had Roxy and Stretch on their leashes. “We’re taking the dogs out for a long walk.” Lukas winked at me.

“Ted okay with a long walk like that?”

“I’m good, Tommy.”

Ted knows what might be out there.

“You hear anything?” Lukas asked me in a whisper.

“Maybe. Kamps found a thread and he’s searching. Listen for birds overhead. I figured we might need a few more bodies if this goes fuckin’ sideways.”

“Sure. Good idea.”

I ran back to see what Stoner was up to in the living room and she was turning all of her considerable charms on Lee.

Ted and Lukas struck off from the Aspen Lodge and followed the path into the woods at the back of the property. Over a hundred acres of trails through the thick forest. A lot of ground to cover.

They tramped along inhaling the crisp air, both of them being watchful.

A branch snapped in the distance. Both men froze.

“Deer?” Ted whispered.

Lukas shook his head. “That’s a big-ass deer.” He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

Ted tapped his ear and waved his finger in the air, and that’s when Lukas noticed—the forest had fallen silent.

Lukas handed Roxy’s leash to Ted and motioned for him to stay put.

His heart racing, Lukas scanned the forest for any movement. Nothing.

At that moment, both dogs looked in the same direction.

Stretch growled, then bayed, long and loud.

Footsteps pounded through the forest.

Lukas gave chase and, in a few strides, caught sight of his prey and picked up the pace.

Plowing headlong through the forest, Lukas was whipped by small trees and bushes, lashing his face and hands. He didn’t slow. The cross-country chase lasted for a quarter mile before Lukas finally tackled the guy. With a grunt and a moan, Lukas drove the man face-first into the forest floor.

The cuffs were on him in a flash, and then Lukas patted him down. Took his pistol and his ID. Looked ordinary enough. Probably fake. The guy never spoke a word.

Lukas hauled him to his feet and marched him at gunpoint back to where Ted stood waiting with the dogs.

“We have to take him back to the cabin and turn him over to the Secret Service.”

Ted nodded. “Let’s go, Lukas.” Ted turned and started back up the path towards the lodge.

Crack.

A shot rang out.

Lukas and Ted hit the ground hard, pine needles crunching beneath them.

Crack.

Another shot.

“Stay down,” Lukas hissed.

The cuffed guy crashed to the ground, blood oozing from the bullet’s entry hole in his head.

Lukas gave Ted the gun out of his ankle holster. “Cover me.”

Ted nodded and watched Lukas take off in the direction of the shot.

Lukas ran, his breath tight, every muscle coiled. The evergreens loomed around him, thick and shadowed. He stopped, listening.

Nothing.

Whoever had fired had gone to ground. Waiting.

After five minutes, Lukas made his way back to Ted.

“Didn’t find him. Let’s head back to the lodge and check-in.”

“What about his guy?” Ted asked, pointing at the corpse.

Lukas checked for a pulse and then removed his handcuffs. “He’s goin’ nowhere. We’ll send someone to retrieve his corpse later. I’m not draggin’ a dead body through the woods with a shooter on the loose.”

“Good point.”

Back at the lodge, they met up with Tommy and Dan.

“Find anything?” Dan asked.

Lukas handed over the gun and ID. “Just two shooters. We had one in custody, but his buddy shot him before we could get him back here for questioning.”

Dan studied the ID. “Looks pretty ordinary—American name and address. Probably fake. I’ll get my guys to run it.”

“Take me to the body, Lukas. We’ll grab my posse of soldiers and start sweeping the area.”

We stepped onto the patio, and that’s when I heard the sound of the approaching choppers.

“Let’s go see what Granddad sent us, bro.”

“Can I come, too?” asked Ted.

“Course you can,” I said, grinning.

Two Chinooks landed, and soldiers poured out like circus clowns out of a fuckin’ clown car. I was amazed at how many bodies they wedged into those birds.

I was about to welcome our guests when Yvonne ran outside, hollering my name.

“I’m over here, Vonnie.”

She looked panicked. “I can’t find Lee.”

“You mean in the lodge?”

“I came back from the powder room, and they were gone. I checked the bedrooms, kitchen and other places, but they’re nowhere.”

Yvonne’s words hit like a punch to the gut. My breath stalled for half a second before I forced my legs to move toward the lodge.

My cell rang.

“Kamps, what did you find?”

“Nothing yet, except for the fact that Stoner’s background has been laid in carefully in layers and it’s so real looking it’s never been questioned.”

“But you think it’s fake?”

“I’d bet on it. Nobody questioned it so far, right?”

“Yep. All the way to the top of the CIA. What better place for a sleeper agent to be. She knows every bit of our classified intel and can pass it on to whoever owns her little black heart.”

“Thanks Kamps.”

Fuck. My chest tightened. I turned in a slow circle, scanning the grounds like I could force Lee to appear. He was gone, just like that. And I had no goddamn idea where.

Billy was right behind me.

“Tell the troops to fan out and search the forest. Operate in teams. We have live shooters in the vicinity, and they might have the president.”

Billy swallowed, saluted and ran toward the soldiers like Usain Bolt.

I turned back toward the lodge. I needed to think. Where the hell would Lana take Lee? The answer had to be here, somewhere in this fucking compound.

My gut pulled him toward the front gate. Stoner had said she drove here. If she was taking Lee off-site, she’d need a vehicle.

I sprinted toward the gate, barely feeling the ground under my boots. Twigs snapped underfoot. Somewhere in the distance, a shout. The search had begun, but time was already slipping through our fingers.

Her car was still parked.

I hollered to the sailor on duty. “You seen Director Stoner?”

“No, sir.”

“You have the keys to this vehicle, sailor?”

“No, sir.”

I pulled out my Eagle and flattened all four tires, just to be sure.

The guard stared but said nothing.

“If someone comes this way with the president and you don’t know them, You stop them. If they argue, shoot them. Understand?”

I flashed him my creds, and he nodded. “Understood, sir.”

That taken care of, I turned in a slow circle, scanning the area. Not in the car. Not past the gate. So where the fuck was she?

I needed time to think and needed more information. “Status report,” I called into the comms.

“Soldiers are divided into search parties. Hitting the forest now,” Lewicki said.

“Lodge is empty, Tommy,” said Yvonne.

Lukas spoke next, low and tense: “I was trying to keep an eye on Ted, but I can’t find him now. I think he might’ve gone off on his own to find his brother.”

Tommy’s blood turned to ice. “That’s no good. Ted isn’t trained.”

A branch snapped somewhere in the woods, and for the first time since this started, true panic threatened to take hold of me.

Time was running out.

Lukas cut in again. “Wait—I think I hear ATVs.”

We caught a break.

“Lukas, meet me at the stables.”

Breathing hard, I got to the stables and Lukas was leaning on the front of the building having a smoke.

“I thought I heard an ATV.” He hooked a thumb in a northwest direction.

“Saddle up and we’ll go look.”

Didn’t take long to get a couple of the horses ready to go. We’d never catch up to an ATV on foot, if that’s what they were using to transport Lee out of the park.

“You lead the way. Go in the direction you heard the four-wheeler.”

Lukas grinned. “One riot, one Ranger, bro.”

The moment our boots hit the stirrups, we took off, tearing through the trees, the scent of wet earth and pine filling my nose. The wind bit at my face as the horses pounded over the trail.

We galloped through the trees, following one of the paths. An ATV is wider than a horse, so we followed the double-wide, maintained trails.

We road for five minutes at full gallop before we could hear the engine up ahead. Lukas waved his arm and shouted something I couldn’t hear. He veered off to the right and I got it—he wanted me to go left.

Smart. We’d pinch them from both sides.

The distant roar of an engine sharpened as we approached, cutting through the forest. I pressed my horse harder, gripping the reins tight as we burst into a clearing.

I drew my gun.

An ATV crashed through the brush at breakneck speed, the driver white-knuckling the steering wheel. Stoner sat beside him, her head snapping toward me. In the back, Lee slumped, unmoving.

Ice flooded my veins.

He’s flopping around.

They drugged him.

Stoner’s eyes widened as her hand shot to her hip. The gun came up.

Muzzle flash and the crack of gunfire.

The bullet whizzed by, burying itself in a tree.

My horse reared in panic. I yanked the reins, heart hammering, struggling to calm him. That hesitation cost me seconds.

“Shit.”

The ATV jerked left, spewing soil and pine needles high into the air.

Lukas exploded from the trees on the opposite side, pistol steady.

One shot.

The driver spasmed, hands flying from the steering wheel. The ATV bucked sideways, momentum dragging it off course, skidding into a tree.

With a thunderous crash, the tree shook as the ATV shattered. Metal screeched, bent and torn by the impact. The momentum continued, causing the ATV to flip.

Stoner screamed as she was thrown clear, bouncing and rolling across the forest floor before she collided with a tree.

I approached on horseback, my weapon trained on her crumpled form.

Closer.

Closer.

She rolled toward me, gun clutched tight and came up firing.

Bullets hissed past. I dropped low in the saddle, squeezing off shots just as boots thundered behind me.

Lewicki and his men crashed into the clearing. Stoner twisted, firing blindly in their direction. Lewicki grunted, stumbling, blood blooming across his side.

I didn’t hesitate.

My next shot punched through Stoner’s center mass. She crumpled, breath ragged, fingers still flexing around the grip of her gun.

Then it was over.

The forest fell silent. The only sounds left were the rustling of leaves, the distant voices of soldiers sweeping the woods, and the rapid-fire drum of my pulse in my ears.

A Marine jogged up. “Sir, do we secure the bodies?”

I barely heard him. My focus locked onto the ATV wreckage. Lee was still in the back.

“Check on the president,” I ordered. “Get him to the lodge. Move slow—he’s drugged, maybe worse.”

“Copy that.”

Lukas dismounted, taking the horses to the stables while I jogged after the medics carrying Lee. His face was pale, sweat slicking his forehead. My gut twisted at how still he was.

Back at the lodge, the on-site doctor and nurse worked fast. The drug was wearing off, but Lee was still groggy, eyes fluttering open only to roll shut again.

Major Lewicki had already been taken to Thurmont Medical Center. One of his men had gone with him in the ambulance.

Ted sat beside me, silent. The tension still sat heavy between us, neither of us willing to say what we were thinking—how close we’d come. How easily we could’ve lost him.

Lee’s eyelids fluttered. His lips parted, voice weak. "Did we win?" He grinned weakly.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Yeah, boss. We won."

His gaze flickered toward me, unfocused but searching. "Stoner?"

I hesitated, then nodded. "She’s gone. It’s over."

Lee sighed, head sinking into the pillow. Relief? Exhaustion? Maybe both.

Ted leaned forward, gripping his brother’s hand, his own face lined with stress.

We weren’t out of the woods yet. But for tonight, at least, the nightmare was over.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sunday, December 6th.

Camp David. Catoctin Mountain Park. Maryland.

At breakfast, Lee still showed detrimental after effects from the drug Stoner had injected into his neck. We talked privately in his room when he first woke up and he told me Lana had played him, and he felt terrible for being so needy and vulnerable.

His weakness had put the country at risk, and it was a lesson learned.

I felt sorry for him.

“Mostly my fault, boss. I told you to go for her because she was a hot number. Wish I’d never said that. I won’t be giving you anymore recommends.”

Lee laughed. “You said it, but I actually did it, Tommy. I’m the one to blame.”

“Before Washington gets wind of this, you should re-instate Ben Vipond so that the CIA will continue running without a glitch. He’s actually a great guy and a patriot. He cares about our country and about the job he does.”

“I agree, I was hasty suspending him and giving the job to Lana, but she had her hooks into me by then and I would’ve given her almost anything she asked for. Shows what a fool a man can be over a woman.”

“Copy that, boss. Been there. Done it.”

We had a chuckle.

Lee decided to stay with Ted, Yvonne and Carter at Camp David until the following night when he would return to the White House and get ready for the vice president’s funeral on Tuesday.

He’d be expected to make a speech when he wasn’t really well enough to attend the funeral. He’d survived the attempt on his life, but standing and walking was still a challenge with two casts. Crutches helped, but they were also annoying.

He desperately needed rest and healing time, and the doctor was pleased with his decision not to go rushing back to work.

Lukas and I packed up and when a chopper came to retrieve half of the soldiers we had on loan from Fort Meade, we hitched a ride.

Private Residence. White House. D.C.

Billy came with us on the return trip to D.C. There were things to tidy things up and a couple of people I needed to speak to.

Lukas booked our flight for late afternoon and that gave us time to pack up at the residence and say goodbye to Emily, June and Daniel.

The Iranians were still after me, and the Russians probably were too, although they seemed to give up in Central America.

Always another day to get ‘er done.

Vipond Residence. Foggy Bottom. D.C.

I called Ben and warned him Lukas and I would be by for a short visit on our way to the airport.

He seemed pleased and had coffee ready for us. “How was Camp David? I’m anxious to hear all about Stoner’s unexpected visit.”

“Her visit was totally planned and almost perfectly executed, Ben. She came there to kidnap Lee and take him for a reason that never came to light.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying Lana Stoner is a traitor?”

“One hundred percent working for another country.”

Ben sat down and lost some of his color. “Never would have believed it. I’ve worked with her for years.”

“Sleeper agent,” said Lukas.

“Where is she now?” asked Ben. “In custody?”

“She’s dead. I killed her in a firefight in the woods. She shot Major Lewicki, the head of my protection unit.”

“Ah, Jeez, Stoner.” Ben flopped down in a chair. “This will be a mess for you to unravel.”

I laughed. “Not me—you, Ben. Lee is re-instating you as Director. He’ll be back from Camp David tomorrow night. He has to speak at Walsh’s funeral.”

“You guys aren’t staying for the funeral?”

“No. The Russian threat is over for now.”

“We need to get home,” said Lukas. “Been away too long now.”

We finished our coffee, and Ben walked us out to the Jeep and said hello to Billy.

“Have a safe trip home.” He shook our hands and gave us a wave as Billy pulled out of the driveway.

Cherrywood. Austin. Texas.

I picked up my truck at Austin-Bergstrom and drove Lukas home first. Aunt Gail was so happy to see us, she cried.

“I thought the president was going to die and I cried. Then I was happy when he didn’t, and then Vice President Walsh got shot and I cried again.”

“Been stressful,” I said. “A tough few days. Things should quiet down a little now.”

Lukas nodded.

“I was hoping you’d both be home for Christmas.”

“Lots of time,” said Lukas. “Two weeks to spare.”

I hugged Aunt Gail, promised to bring the kids by soon, and headed out of the city to Butler.

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler.

The sun was low in the sky when I pulled in the driveway and parked my truck. Sunday, so it wasn’t surprising to see Farrell’s truck parked there.

I grabbed my gear out of the back and ran up the porch steps to the door, my heart pounding a little. Always this way when I’d been away too long.

Linc yelled, “Daddy,” and ran to me.

I dropped my bag and scooped him up. “I missed you so much, Lincoln. Did you take care of your sister?”

“Yep. She missed you too, Daddy.”

Farrell strolled into the foyer and gave me a hug. “That was a bad one.”

“Yeah, it was, and only a small part of it was on the news.”

Ellis was busy in the kitchen making dinner and I gave her a hug. “Always such a relief when you walk in that door, Tommy.”

“Hope I’m home now for a while. I want to get a tree, go shopping and get ready for our first Christmas in the new house.”

“That will be fun. The kids will enjoy the decorations. They love anything that sparkles.”

Milligan Ranch. Butler.

After dinner, I called Ricki and drove over to her ranch next door. We sat in the truck, and I held her in my arms and tried to let go of the stress.

“I’m a mess, babe. Give me a day or two to let my stress level ease down a few notches.”

“I can feel how tight your muscles are, Tommy. Wish I knew how to give a massage.”

“There’s lots of other things you can do for me to help me relax.” I laughed.

“Want to go park down the back lane?”

“Let’s do that, babe.”

After an hour in the back of the truck with Ricki, I felt a little more human, but my head was aching a little and I needed sleep more than anything else.

“Tomorrow we’ll go Christmas shopping and have some fun. Want to do that?”

“I do. Love shopping and it will be fun to buy presents for Linc and Simka.”

Boots & Saddles Roadhouse. Giddings.

After leaving Ricki at her ranch, I drove around for a while trying to get my head straight and it wasn’t working.

Wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going, and I ended up at Boots. Sunday night and the parking lot was only half full. I grabbed a spot big enough for my Ram and went inside.

Annie was behind the bar filling pitchers, but Mateo wasn’t sitting on his usual stool. I sat down and she smiled at me.

When she had a few minute, she brought me a pitcher of Shiners and a side of salsa and chips. “You okay, sugar? You look extremely tired.”

“I need to sleep real bad.”

“You can crash on the sofa in my office.”

“Thanks, but I’m not staying long. I should be at home right now sleeping, but I felt like I had to see you first. Just for a minute.”

“I’m glad to see you too. Happy you’re home.”

She hurried down the length of the bar to serve a customer and I watched her with the wanting in me hard to contain.

No matter how long I wait, it never changes.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Monday, December 9th.

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler. Texas.

Sleeping in my own bed was something I wasn’t used to. Warm and cozy and I didn’t want to get up. I could hear the kids downstairs and knew I’d slept a lot longer than I usually did.

I tossed back the duvet, sat on the side of the bed and reached for my smokes. Had a notion to cut down on the number of smokes I went through in a day. Needed somebody to challenge and it would be a lot easier. Farrell or Lukas might do it with me.

New Year’s. Maybe I’d start on January first. Something to think about.

After a few minutes in the bathroom, I ambled down the stairs to see what my family was doing.

Linc and Simka were in their highchairs finishing their breakfast and they waved to me. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, guys.”

“How did you sleep, Tommy?” asked Ellis. “You looked dreadfully tired when you got home yesterday.”

“Yeah, I’m still pretty messed up, Ellis. Too much going on in the Cap for me to handle. I’m happy Lukas was there with me. Tell you that.”

“Did Ted come down from the mountain when Lee was so badly injured?”

“He did. Good to see him again.”

“I’m sure Lee was happy to see him too.”

“He was. He likes having people in the residence with him. He gets lonely there all by himself day after stressful day.”

“I’m sure it must be terrible carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

I poured myself a coffee and dug up a pen and a notepad. “I’m making a shopping list. Ricki and I are going shopping today. I hate the crowds and I’m buying the Christmas stuff for the kids today.”

“Wonderful. I have a list of educational toys they should have instead of regular toys.”

“Fantastic. Saves my brain burning out.”

Ellis laughed. She brought me the list then made me a fried egg sandwich and topped up my coffee.

“Thanks. My head is acting up a little. Two-day headache and I hope it ain’t anything else.”

“When is the next checkup on your skull fracture, dear?”

“Umm… I think it’s in the reminder thing in my phone. Hope I didn’t miss it. I don’t want that dizzy shit coming back again.”

“Dizzy shit,” said Simka and Linc laughed.

“Oh, boy. I’ve got to watch myself.”

I shoved the list into the pocket of my jeans and got down on the thick new rug in the play area and spent an hour playing with the kids.

When I got up, my head was a little wonky and it wasn’t my imagination. I might have to call my doctor in the morning.

Checked my watch and had an hour before I had to pick Ricki up. I went into my new office behind the pantry and checked it out. First time I’d been in there since Blacky had it installed, and it was incredible.

Nice wooden desk and chair. Credenza with a printer. Laptop I didn’t know how to use sitting on the desk. Huge armory with a coded lock. Supposed to be a safe somewhere in the room, but a glance at the walls and I couldn’t see it.

That was the point.

I closed the door, called Jesse and brought him up to speed on everything that happened at Camp David.

“That’s some relaxing getaway for the president, Tommy. What the hell is the world coming to?”

“Can’t cope with it, boss. Need some downtime. You coming to Texas over Christmas holidays?”

“Yes. I’ll be at Nate’s funeral tomorrow, then clean up what I need to by the end of the week and come home for two glorious weeks sitting on my ass on the ranch.”

“Or on your horse.”

Jesse laughed. “On my horse for sure. Poor Corky. I miss him so much.”

I locked up my office, grabbed my truck keys and went to pick up Ricki.

Have to call Blacky and thank him for taking care of the secure office installation.

Power Mall. Route 290. Austin.

I drove in the drive at the Milligan Quarter Horse ranch and was about to park when Ricki ran out the door all dressed up with a lot of color in her cheeks.

She’s excited for this and I wish some of it would rub off on me.

“This is going to be so much fun, Tommy. I’m happy we’re going alone—just the two of us.” She reached over and patted my leg, and I grabbed her hand and held it.

“You look fantastic today, babe.”

“Thanks. You always look good to me. You don’t look as tired as you did yesterday, but there’s still something around your eyes. Do you have another headache?”

“Yeah, I do. I didn’t know it showed in my eyes.”

When we got to the mall, I found a decent spot to park and made sure I had the list in my pocket. “Ellis gave me a list of educational toys she wants for the kids. We’ll find them and wrap them up for Christmas.”

“Fun. I can’t wait to look for toys. I’ve never done much toy shopping.”

“The first thing we’re going to do is buy your ring. Once we do that, we’ll break for lunch.”

Ricki smiled. “You have a plan.”

“Loose plan. Real loose. Ring. Lunch. Toys.”

Ricki laughed.

I took her hand and headed into the first jewelry store we came to. There were about four or five in this mall, but I’d never been in any of them.

The store was all decorated for Christmas. Sparkly stuff everywhere and I could tell Ricki liked it. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at the fancy displays.

Should I be buying her a ring? I couldn’t buy her an engagement ring because that would be false advertising. I was never going to marry her. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. In my mind, I was already married, and it was a one-shot deal.

Ricki was asking me a question and I wasn’t listening. “Sorry, Annie.”

She stared at me, and I realized what I’d said. “Sorry, Ricki. I was thinking of something else. My headache is messing me up. Do you see anything you like?”

“There are a lot of different kinds of rings, Tommy. I don’t want to pick out anything too expensive.”

“Let’s ask for a couple of trays and you can try a few on.”

She smiled. “Okay. I’ll try some on.”

I leaned on the counter feeling a little woozy and watched Ricki put on about a hundred different rings. Finally, she put one on that we both liked. Big tiger’s eye circled with diamonds. I liked the setting, and it looked great on Ricki’s slim hand.

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“I think so too. I love it, Tommy.”

I paid for the ring, the jeweler sized it and when it fit her perfectly, we went to lunch to celebrate.

Sitting in the pub in the mall, I ordered Shiners for myself, and Ricki wasn’t a big drinker and didn’t know what to order.

“How about a margarita? Ellis likes those.”

“Okay. I’ll try one.”

The food was good, and I felt a little better after I ate.

“If your headache is bad, honey, we can shop for the kids another day. Your eyes look funny.”

“I’ll be okay.”

We soldiered on to the toy store. I pulled out Ellis’ list, handed if off to Ricki and pushed the cart while Ricki found the toys, books and games Ellis wanted for the kids.

When we couldn’t put any more in our cart, Ricki called it, and we headed for the checkout and then onto the free gift-wrapping center.

There was a small seating area where you could wait for your gifts to be wrapped. The store provided complimentary coffee, and I needed a cup after all that shopping.

“I’m beat, Rick. That shopping took it out of me.”

“No, it didn’t, Tommy. Something is wrong. I can feel it.”

“Hope not. I don’t want no more trouble with my fuckin’ head.”

“Do you have an appointment coming up soon?”

“Lukas asked me that too, or was it Farrell?”

“We’ll look into it when we get back to your place.”

The wrapping of our mountain of stuff was finally completed and we wheeled our Santa cart to the truck and unloaded it.

“When we get back to the farm, we’ll leave all this stuff in the truck until the kids are in bed.”

“Good idea,” said Ricki. “Then we’ll hide it.”

Camp David. Catoctin Mountain Park. Maryland.

Lee was moving slowly, his body protesting with aches and pains from being hauled around in the ATV the day before. Conscious or not, his injured body wasn’t ready for the rough ride he endured at the hands of Lana Stoner.

Depression followed on the heels of the pain and soreness and the doctor worried constantly over him.

“You need complete rest for several days, sir. No activity whatsoever.”

“I hear you, doctor, and believe me, I do not feel like doing anything more than lying on my bed.”

“Excellent.”

Yvonne sat in Lee’s room watching over him, feeling bad she hadn’t been able to do more to save her boss from the evil grip of Lana Stoner.

Lee on the other hand was grieving in his own way for Lana, even though she intended to kill him.

The troops still on the Camp David property, continued searching and more intruders were found in the woods and arrested.

Dan figured they were waiting for an exfil that never materialized. Their mission had gone to hell and the Motherland had left them stranded. Dan was probably correct. Dan Black was nobody’s fool.

Lee lay on his bed, propped up on several pillows doing nothing and taking no calls. When the Secretary of State’s icon appeared on his screen, he grabbed for the phone.

“Jesse, I’m so glad you called.”

“How are you doing? I’ve only heard dribs and drabs of what went on out there, but it must’ve been horrendous for you.”

“It has been difficult, both physically and emotionally. Today, I’m relegated to resting only. By end of day tomorrow, I’ll have to return. I have to be back at the capital for Nate’s funeral. No two ways about it.”

“I’d like to help you in any way I can, Lee. Don’t hesitate to delegate. I’m more than happy to do what I can to get you through Tuesday. It will be a difficult day for everyone.”

“It will be for me. Tommy went back to Texas, and he won’t be with me on Tuesday.”

“He wouldn’t have left D.C. if he wasn’t sure the danger to you was in the past. He just wouldn’t. I know him too well.”

“He told me I’d be fine. I miss him, that’s all.”

Quanah Kahni Farm. Butler. Texas.

Ricki drove my truck home to the farm. I was goin’ downhill fast and knew I couldn’t drive. My vision was blurry again, the dizzies were rearing their ugly heads again, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d be barfing real soon all over the inside of my truck.

I must have dozed off real hard because when Ricki shut off the truck, she had to wake me up. “Come on, Tommy. Wake up, honey. We’re home.”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go inside. Leave the gifts here like we talked about.”

“You need a hand?” Ricki asked me.

“Nope. I’m good.”

Ricki laughed. “I don’t believe you.” She took my arm and steered me up the steps and into the house.

The house smelled like family and food and happiness like Annie’s ranch house always did.

“Sit here,” said Ricki.

I smiled at her and relaxed into the sofa. I was so fuckin’ tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. I heard Ricki say, “Tommy isn’t feeling too good. He’s got another one of those headaches.”

“Where’s your medication, Tommy?” called Ellis.

“Up on my bathroom vanity.”

I remembered saying that.

I opened my eyes when Farrell came home from work and opened Shiners for both of us.

“What’s wrong with you, cuz?”

“Lukas. I need Lukas.”

I could hear Ricki talking and she was showing Ellis her ring.

Next time Farrell came near me, I told him he should get Ellis a ring and he laughed.

I laid there on the sofa and fingered the wedding ring I wore around my neck and never took off.

I can’t take it off.

Not ever.

“Dinner’s ready, Tommy.”

Ellis sounded a million miles away.

I’m too tired to eat.

Author Notes from Carolina Mac and David K. Mac.

We’re having such a blast writing this series together! Creating a book series as a mother/son duo has become a unique and enriching adventure for both of us and one we’re unwilling to stop any time soon.

True Colors is a political thriller series written in the pulp fiction style with lots of action and humor, hopefully giving our readers many hours of pleasure.

We hope you thoroughly enjoyed Book 11, Absolute Lie. If you have a moment to leave a quick rating or review on Amazon, we would love to know what you thought about the book and I’m sure other readers would too.

Carolina Mac is the author of over two hundred books in seventeen different series. The Regulators, Quantrall PI, The Blackmore Agency, The Night Vipers, The Creed, The Agency: Young Guns, Paradise Park, Broken Spur, The Moonbeam Chronicles, Taming the Stallion and the Rebel Ranch series.

Also, five Novella series: Heaven’s Gate, Midlife Magic, Suddenly Magic, The Sabbats and the Boots & Saddles Updates—Volumes one through five. 

She’s the co-author with her daughter JL Madore/Auburn Tempest of Misty’s Magick and Mayhem series. Being translated into German. Most of the books available now, along with the new boxed set. And the new Dark Irish Mafia Romance series. First three books now available.

She’s the co-author with her son David K. MacDowell/D.K. Mac of the True Colors series.

Where to find Carolina Mac:

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Regulator Series:

Prequel -Lily

Prequel – George Ross

2.Bad Beat

3.Panama Annie

4.Coulter

5.Searching for Billy

6.End of an Era

7.Wingman

8.Triple Homicide

9.The Foundation

10.Hotline

11.Powell

12.The Last Regulator

Quantrall Series:

               Quantrall

               Ink Minx

               Ray Jay

               Blacky

               The Coven

               You Forgot to say Goodbye

               Payback

               Rags to Rage

               The Corner Office

          Race

          Coma

          No Defense

          Full Circle

Note: For reading order: Quantrall books 14 & 15 follow Backwater – Book 15 in The Blackmore Agency Series.

          Stick a Needle In Your Eye

          Crude

The Blackmore Agency Series:

               Double Down

               Splitting Aces

               Dead Man’s Hand

               Drawing Dead

               Under the Gun

               Rivered

               The Turn

               Final Table

               Cat

          Dog

          Vigilance

          Mystere

          Hole in the Heart

          Dead Eye

          Backwater

          Road Kill

          Street Rat

          Hoodoo

          Crowbar

          Night Vipers

          Short Fuse

          Cinnamon

          Parole

          Eight Seconds

          Junkyard Dog

          Revoked

          Blackbird

          Random

          Stone Cold Revenge

          Branded

Night Viper Series:

Full Throttle

Organ Grinder

Thicker than Water

Felons

Bad Blood

Dart Game

Rope Burn

Early Release

Bittersweet

Carnage

Fightin’ Dirty

Third Strike

Coyote Moon

Mortality Rate

Blood Ties

The Creed:

Pride

Greed

Lust

Envy

Wrath

Sloth

Gluttony

Red, White & Blood

Throwing Down

Side Hustle

For Better or Worse

Expiry Date

Vindication

Dead Wrong

Kill Shot

Trail of Betrayal

The Agency: Young Guns:

Havoc

Toxic

Whip

Savage

Slaughter

Priors

Malice

Smoke

Riot   

Fury

Rage  

Damage

Mayhem  

Rampage

Frenzy

Taming the Stallion:

Hard Ride

Rough Ride

Wild Ride

Last Ride

Stormy Ride

Lawless Ride

Joyride

Midnight Ride

Longest Ride

Rocky Ride

River Ride

Final Ride

Rebel Ranch:

Broken Boys

Damaged Goods

Pushing Limits

True Colors:   

Period of Adjustment

Devil’s Son

Deep Red

Big Stick

Code Name: Chaos

Trace of Treason.

The Third Decoy

Winds of Change

Frozen Asset

Badlands

Absolute Lie

Quagmire

Homegrown – coming soon

The Moonbeam Chronicles:

A is for Amulet

B is for Boline

C is for Crow 

D is for Dead

E is for Evil

F is for Fire

G is for Grimoire   

H is for Huntress

I is for Invoking

J is for Jinxed   

K is for Karma

L is for Lunar   

M is for Magic

N is for Necromancy

O is for Oracle

P is for Poppet

Q is for Quickening

R is for Ritual

S is for Serpent

T is for Tarot

U is for Uncrossing

V is for Voodoo

W is for Wolves

X is for Xoanon

Y is for Baba Yaga

Z is for Zodiac

Paradise Park Series:

               Paradise Park

               Return to Paradise

               Paradise Sparks

               Alone in Paradise

               Together in Paradise

               Prisoner in Paradise

               Escape from Paradise

               Deliverance

               Outlaw

          Destination: Paradise

          Lost in Paradise

          Dakota: Off the Grid

          Dakota: Off the Grid-Part Two

          Paradise Unleashed – Mashup Novella

Misty’s Magick & Mayhem Series:

School for Reluctant Witches

School for Saucy Sorceresses

School for Unwitting Wiccans

Nine Saint Gillian Street

The Ghost of Pirate’s Alley

Jinxing Jackson Square   

Flame

Frost

Luna

Nocturne

Swamp Magic

Mystere LeJeune: The Sabbats.

Samhain

Beltane

Mabon   

Yule

Heaven’s Gate Romance Novella Series:

Don

Gabe

Soren

Broken Spur Series:

Picking up the Pieces

Comeback Trail

Rodeo Ranch.

Rodeo Bride

Midlife Magic Series:

The Key

Time   

The Wish

The Same Thing Happened to Me

Best Friends

Vows.

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