The Saladin Strategy (The Jack McDuff series Book

2)
Norm Clark
Norman Clark (2013)

The Saladin Strategy

Action Thriller

Norm Clark

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locales, and events are products of the authors
imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or places or persons living or
dead is completely coincidental.
Copyright 2013 by Norm Clark
10 9 8 7 6
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or any portion of this book
without the authors permission.

Heartfelt thanks to all the men and women who, often at great personal risk, acquire and analyze
the intelligence required for the security to maintain our way of life.
Jack McDuff series
Resurrected
The Saladin Strategy

PROLOGUE
Damascus, Syria
Adira, the eldest of Sheik Faisel Al-Fakeehs thirteen daughters, paced the stone floor in the twostory living room. In lieu of traditional Saudi garb, she wore a business suit prepared for a difficult
battle against the Arab worlds male only business paradigma victory essential to her mission.
She greeted the khaki uniformed General Halabi at the front door and escorted him to the large
room.
He sipped the tea she poured, then glanced at his watch and pushed the meeting to a critical
point. I rearranged my schedule to accommodate the The Judge.
Weak-kneed and on the verge of courage loss, Adira forced a positive front. I made the
request. I sent the e-mail.
Halabi stood erect. Anger flashed in his dark eyes. You lured me under a false pretense
woman.
The missions future depended on her response. She inhaled. Please hear me out General,
The Judges mission benefits you too.
He hesitated. I give you one minute to explain.
American and Israeli agents coerced my fatherThe Judgeto Amman a year ago, where
they murdered him and my brother.
The general retook his seat, a positive sign. My condolences, I did not know.
His softer demeanor encouraged Adira. No one knows. They disposed of the bodies. I stifled
my pain and sorrow when I recognized the advantage they created for me. The lack of public
knowledge of my fathers death allowed me to assume his identity and continue his work. He
conducted his business via e-mail with no face-to-face contact.
Halabi smiled. I liked our world better before the internet. He paused. You gambled to set
this meeting, why?
My mission will unite the Muslim world to drive the infidels from our lands much as Saladin
did to defeat King Richard in the Crusades. We will discredit our enemies in the eyes of the world
and destroy their ability to confront us.
How does this relate to me? he said, brow furrowed.
I need your help with a critical part of the mission, the transport of a package from the
Caribbean to a Syrian fishing trawler.
Ahhh, I understand. The Russians are in the unique position to transport your item from
Cuba to Syria, and as their designated liaison, you want me to make the arrangements. Favors cost,
they expect payment for services rendered.
Quick to respond, I will deposit three million dollars in the account of your choice to
compensate you and cover the expenses.
Bits and pieces of Halabis one-sided Russian conversation echoed from the far side of the big
room. He closed the call and returned.
Once payment is received, I will finalize the arrangements. Be aware, they require time to
implement the plan.
She lowered her deep, dark eyes and nodded respectful acceptance.

CHAPTER 1
Lombardy, Italy
The town of Varenna
The steam from Jacks coffee mug in the crisp morning air matched the vertical plumes of smoke
from the chimneys of the towns early risers. The villas second-story deck afforded a postcard
view of the small towns gradual descent to the eastern shore of Lake Como. Sunlight crawled
down the sheer granite cliff across the narrow lake to begin the day.
Jack looked forward to the first day in a month with personal time for Mary and him to enjoy.
With the expected e-mail received to complete the data collection and mere minutes to analyze the
intel, the day belonged to them.
Mary joined him on the deck. Good morning.
Arent you the early bird?
She smiled and snuggled against his large body for warmth. He wrapped his arms around her.
You know, he said, once we analyze the intel and forward it to Wino, the day is ours.
What would you like to do?
Welllets take the ferry to Bellagio to play tourist for the day and have an early dinner at
Mistral.
Perfect, he said. Now all we need is to receive the data.
Mary tilted her head and flashed a wide grin. Her bright blue eyes sparkled. The e-mail
awaits.
And you didnt tell me, he chuckled. Lets get to work.
In their op-center, she clicked on the inbox and muttered, Its from Wino.
Jack and Mary worked as unsanctioned CIA contract agents to pick up, analyze, and forward
intel to Wino, their Langley contact.
Mary printed the e-mail for Jack to read, a somber expression on her face. Her black, shoulder
length hair flared when she spun her chair to hand Jack the copy.
He read the e-mail and shook his head as he tossed the printout on his desk. The date, time,
and location canceled their plans for today and disappointed him, but the closing sentence put a
dagger in his heart. Wino did not know the contact or the nature of the intel, which classified this
as a blind meet and created the worst possible scenario with no way to prepare for all
contingencies.
The anger required to survive in the black ops world surfaced, anger he suppressed over the
past year for Mary and him to enjoy their life together. He hated the blind meet, which forced the
anger to return. Jack spun to face Mary.
Her facial expression and body language showed their shared trepidation. Mary understood
the mission type and the potential risk.
She cleared her throat. Ill finish the intel collection. Well do the analysis when you return.
Jack nodded and directed his attention to the mission. He needed to arrive in Vienna before
sunset today to recon the location before his seven oclock meeting tomorrow morning, and the
eight-hour drive created a time crunch. I need to pack.
To lighten their sober mood, she tossed him a small digital camera on his return. Since I cant
go to Vienna with you, please take pictures of your trip.

He understood her tactic and agreed.

They wrapped in a tight embrace for a moment and Mary relaxed her grip to ease away. Jack
pulled her close for a goodbye kiss.

CHAPTER 2
Vienna, Austria
Jack followed Winos directions to the Krntner Ring section of Ringstrae, the ring road around
District One of the center city.
He stopped the Land Rover curbside at the Karl Kaffeehaus to scout tomorrows meeting site.
A low wrought iron fence separated three round tables from the sidewalk and matched the
description in Winos e-mail, which eased Jacks tension on the short drive to the Regency Hotel.
Aside from the occasional glass pyramid or ultra-modern structure with bright accent colors to
offend the senses, the architecture of the major European cities all looked the same to Jackold.
He took pictures on the ten-minute walk to fulfill his promise to Mary and discovered an
unexpected benefit, eight minutes of distraction. He refocused when the Karl Kaffeehaus came to
view.
The instructions in Winos e-mail read like a movie script. Jack shed his coat to expose the
requested red flannel shirt and occupied the designated middle table. Steaming coffee helped him
brave the morning chill. Agents hated missions with amateurs; the potential risk far outweighed the
possible reward. The coffees taste turned acrid as his anxiety increased.
At the appointed time, he called his contact.
Recce is British black ops speak for recon and the worst imaginable codename for a mission.
He asked Jack for his operational name and clothing compliance. Jack shook his head in disbelief
and obliged the rookie request.
He listened to the description of his field contact and the sudden disconnection click. Jacks
anger flared. Recce requested the meeting, why the rudeness? He forced the negative thoughts
aside and directed his attention to the street.
The young, attractive girl with sun-streaked blonde hair dodged traffic to cross the roadway.
Her long ponytail bounced with each hasty step. The black sweatpants and long-sleeved teal
pullover matched Recces description.
Drawn to his red shirt, she approached with a taut, out-of-her-element expression. Im
Romy.
Im The Man.
Her face softened with the identification verification and her blue eyes sparkled. Im pleased
to meet you.
The pleasures mine, said Jack as he took her extended hand.
The unexpected object in his palm surprised him. He closed his fingers around the flash drive
and chalked up her dramatic method to inexperience.
Coffee?
No thank you, only have a minute, she said as she sat. My source gave me additional
information. He stressed the high level degree of the intel and the associated risk.
Jack eased in a deep breath. He did not want to show concern and flashed a confident smile.
Thank your source for me.
Romy nodded and stood to leave.
He thanked her and watched her ponytail bounce with each hurried stride.
Jack sat to finish his coffee. The successful intel transfer eased his blind meet concerns, and
he considered Romys additional warning an overreaction. He would phone the good news to

Mary on his walk to the hotel.

The young waiter approached with a white thermal carafe.
Jack raised his hand to decline the refill when a sudden loud thud and the sound of breaking
glass filled the air. The waiters face froze in horror. Jack snapped his head toward the sound to a
scene of utter disbelief, an airborne Romy above a small black car. Her body spun like a slowmotion nightmare and landed head first on the pavement.
Jack leaped over the low wrought iron fence to render aid and stopped short when a female
passerby shouted in German and kneeled next to the motionless body. She pressed her fingers
against Romys neck and moved her head from side to side.
He stared at Romys crumpled body, stunned. Jack forced his brain to assess the situation. He
needed to leave before the police arrived to investigate the accident.
A quick scan of the area revealed a tourist type with his camera trained on Romys body. The
critical timeline forced him to forego his urge to smash the camera in the morbid bastards face.
Jack set a deliberate pace for the return walk. With his field skills at maximum alert, he
stopped short of the hotels entrance to verify his security.
The shoe stores angled window reflected a view of the sidewalk behind him. His eyes locked
on the image in the glass, the morbid tourist. He twice glanced in Jacks direction as he feigned
window-shopping.
Jack adjusted his plan. He passed the hotel and turned right at the corner to enter a bookstore.
Midway through the store, he ducked behind a fern filled planter box and readied Marys camera at
full zoom.
The morbid tourist cupped his hands to the bookstores front glass to inspect the interior. Jack
snapped two pictures of the tail before he moved to the curb to survey the exterior and activate his
cell phone.
Jack exited the stores rear into the parking zone, which included his hotels valet lot and rear
entrance.
He purchased a white full-brimmed cotton hat in the gift shop and used the adjacent stairway
for access to his floor.
After a quick check of his suite, Jack settled on the sofa to analyze the events.
The dreaded blind meet started like a routine intel acquisition and spiraled into the depths of
hell the moment the meeting ended. The vision of Romy airborne above the black car and her
crumpled, lifeless body on the pavement provided no answers, so he closed his eyes and directed
his attention to the sounds. The impacts loud thud and the breaking glass sound added nothing.
Frustrated, Jack paced. He opened the suites window to cool the stuffy room. The sound of a
near accident drew his eyes to the street belowan epiphany.
The sounds not heard provided the clarity he sought. No tire squeals. No brakes applied to
avoid contact with a pedestrian. No accident. They murdered Romy. Her sources warning rose in
prominence.
The balance of the scenario fell in place like the last few pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The
morbid tourist followed him because of his contact with Romy at the Karl Kaffeehaus. Did he
witness the flash drive transfer when they shook hands? Jack assumed so, which put him in their
crosshairs.
His covert anger turned to controlled rage. The intel caused Romys death and put him in an
unacceptable defensive position. To go on offense, he contacted Recce for the identity of Romys
source.

Hello.
This is The Man.
Recce hesitated. Why did you call me?
Damn, he hasnt heard about Romy, thought Jack. If I tell him now, hell blame me for her
death and break off contact.
We need to meet.
For what purpose?
Ill tell you at the meeting.
Jack suffered through a long pause before Recce gave an impatient response. Write down
my office address.
The conversation nagged at Jack. Contacts who deal with high-level intel set meetings at
secure, neutral sites. Recces office location put him on edge.
He located the address on his city street map and plotted a circuitous route.
With a nondescript tan shirt donned, Jack pulled the cotton hat tight to cover his distinctive
reddish brown hair. He checked out of the hotel and retrieved his Land Rover from the valet lot for
the drive to meet Recce with one eye glued to the rear view mirror.

CHAPTER 3
Recces address led Jack to an old four-story stone clad building in the center city. He followed the
directions and parked in the customers lot at the buildings rear. The recessed entrance opened into
an oversized hallway lined on both sides with identical dark wooden doors. Jack checked the black
lettering on the obscure glass door insets and entered when he found Volker Anwalt.
A door-activated buzzer announced his arrival in the empty reception room, and a slight man
with brown eyes and short dark-brown hair joined him.
Are you Recce?
The rigid faced man ignored his question. Follow me, he said.
Jack fought back the anger welling in his chest and obliged. He needed Recces help.
The office smelled of dust. Stacks of files and papers covered the desk and, for a brief
moment, transported Jack to another place and time.
Recce made eye contact. Before you begin, we need to resolve an issue. I am sick of this
CIA codename shit. My name is Jurgen.
He stifled a laugh. Im Jack.
What dire problem required me to agree to this short notice meeting?
The typical, abrupt German business attitude pushed Jack into a terse response. After my
meeting with Romy, a car hit and killed her.
Jurgens face tensed. Did you witness the accident?
No accident, said Jack. He gave him the details.
Anger flashed in Jurgens eyes. My fault, I set up the meeting with you people.
Jack leaned over the desk to deliver an angry response. What the hell do you mean by you
people?
He inhaled a slow, deep breath and exhaled before he responded. When my admin,
Gretchen, brought in Romy with a request to set up the meeting, I at first refused. I do not approve
of your CIAs cloak and dagger methods, and I did not want to be involved. Romy persisted and
insisted the CIA needed the intel, and the Volker Anwalt name provided the credibility required to
set the meeting. Your news makes me regret my decision. I want you to leave now and avoid
further contact.
Jack stared in disbelief. Jurgen laid the blame for Romys death at the Agencys feet, and he
needed to take control.
Wait a goddamn minute Jurgen. We didnt solicit Romy for the intel. You contacted us. We
knew neither of you and yet accepted the blind contact in good faith. The intel caused her death
and put my life on the line. Now, Im into a rogue mission to protect myself and avenge Romys
death, and I need to contact her source.
Jurgen leaned his chair back. His stern face softened to a look of acceptance. Youre right
Jack, I cant blame the Agency. I have to live with my decision. He paused. Even worse, I set the
meeting with no knowledge of her intel or source.
The dead-end slammed the door on Jacks strategy. His mind spun in search of a new
direction. A just-below-the-surface thought nagged him like an unreachable itch. He forced his
concentration to bring it into focus.
What about Gretchen? She brought Romy in to set this up and might know something?
Maybe, he said. They were roommates until Gretchen married three months ago. A

pained expression etched onto his face. Ill have to tell her about Romy.
Jack waited in the reception room. Anxious to view Romys intel, he considered loading the
flash drive onto the workstation computer and then thought otherwise. He did not want to create a
link to their office.
Jurgen rejoined him in twenty minutes. Romy did not confide in her. She suggested you
might find something helpful in her apartment.
He took the envelope inscribed with Romys address from Jurgen and felt the outline of a key
inside. Though disappointed with Gretchens lack of intel, he appreciated the new direction.
Thank her for me, and thank you Jurgen.
Jack pushed open the exit door and stepped into the recessed outer area. He spun back to stop
the closing door for a couple approaching from the corridor and heard a muffled pop. A sharp pain
stabbed the side of his head. His knees buckled. Jack grabbed the door with both hands for support
as his vision darkened. He fought unconsciousness with every cell in his bodyhis only chance to
survive.

CHAPTER 4
The driver of the white Audi A6 selected a strategic location in the visitors lot with a clear, though
angled, view of the stone clad buildings recessed rear entrance. He waited for his target to exit. His
right hand gripped a sound suppressed Heckler & Koch nine-millimeter pistol, the kill order and a
picture received on his Blackberry thirty-minutes earlier.
The sound of the opening door alerted him and his target stepped into view. He took dead aim
for a headshot and increased the trigger pressure. His target jerked back to the door and forced his
aim to the right. The stone fascia on the corner of the recess exploded from the bullets impact.
He moved from the car to the center of the lot for a line of sight aim to finish the kill. A man
and woman assisted his injured target into the building and forced him to abort.
With the negative result reported, he received instructions to maintain surveillance on the site.
Jacks torpor faded and awareness returned. He pivoted his head to view the dimly lit room, which
drove a hot poker into his brain. Eased back on the sofa, he closed his eyes to allow the pain to
subside.
The sounds in the room made no sense. He forced his eyes open to a vision. A tall, lean
woman with long, flowing hair stood in the open doorway. The backlight from the outer room
surrounded her with an aura.
My God, shes an angel. The bastard killed me, he thought. No, I cant be dead. I still
feel pain.
Her features came to view when she nearedhigh cheekbones and red, swollen eyes.
She sat next to him and eased an icepack on his wound. Im Gretchen, she said. Keep the
ice on your wound for twenty minutes to minimize the swelling.
She rose to leave when Jurgen entered and spun back at the doorway. Find the people who
did this and make them pay.
Jack closed his eyes and turned his face away from the light turned on by Jurgen. He struggled
to reopen them.
Im sorry, said Jurgen. He reached for the switch.
Leave the light on, said Jack. Where am I?
We converted our lunchroom to a recovery room.
Pleased with his regained comprehension, Jack stood and took short steps to practice his
mechanics. How did I find my way here?
The couple you held the door for brought you, said Jurgen. You gave them our business
name. They described the bizarre accident, how the stone exploded and hit you on the side of your
head.
Amazed by Jurgens naivety after the days previous events, Jack needed to tell him the truth.
The stone did not explode by itself, a bullet intended for me missed and struck the corner.
Mein Gott, he spouted in German. You led them to us.
No I didnt, said Jack. I assure you they did not follow me.
How did they know our location?
They followed Romy.
Jurgen sat and nodded. What do we do now?
They discussed their dilemma, and Jurgen agreed Jack needed to exit the building unseen. He
thought for a moment and asked Jack for time to put together a plan.

Not confident of Jurgens ability to develop a realistic exit strategy, Jack sought alternatives
and found none. With no knowledge of the buildings layout, he needed to wait for Jurgens plan
and analyze its validity. He deposited the ice in the sink, gulped a handful of extra strength Tylenol
found on the counter, and paced for twenty minutes until Jurgen returned.
He listened to Jurgens plan. I owe you an apology. You can think like a covert agent. He
gave him the Land Rover key to place in the drop spot for his detective friend to access.
Jurgen smiled and left to put the plan in action.
The hour Jurgen needed to set up the exit plan proved a blessing. Jack functioned near normal
except for the head pain, only slightly dulled by the pills. He attached the silencer to his Sig Sauer
pistol, placed the weapon in his tote, and waited for the go signal.
Jack waved a thank you in response to Jurgens thumb up and exited the office. He passed
through the public restrooms unlocked storage room to a service elevator for the ride down to the
underground employee parking lot.
He donned the black hooded-sweatshirt on the rear seat of the waiting grey Volvo and slipped
from sight behind the driver.
A twenty-minute drive filled with twists and turns brought them to a small city park.
Jack thanked the driver for his help and settled on a park bench with a clear view of his Land
Rover. An hour passed with no suspicious activity and he retrieved his rides key from the hoodies
slash pocket for the drive to Romys apartment.

CHAPTER 5
Jack parked the Land Rover on a side street around the corner from Romys building. He used
Gretchens key to access the lobby and apartment 2C.
The feminine dcor reminded him of her senseless death and strengthened his resolve to find
her killers.
His hopes rose when he found the small office in a reading room off the master bedroom.
The anticipation of viewing the intel on Romys flash drive and her files sent a surge of
adrenaline through his body as her desktop computer warmed up.
The result slammed him like a sledgehammer. He slumped in the chair. Her computer required
a password.
His frustration matched the pain in his head. With neither the time nor the skills to access her
computer, he once again faced a dead end and no direction.
Jack wiped down all he touched. He did not want to leave a trail in case the police decided to
investigate Romys death as more than an accident.
The gallery wall in the hallway stopped him for a glimpse of Romys life. As he scanned the
photos of her family and friends, his eyes locked on the picture of a man with dark hair and craggy
features.
My god, its Ski. Whats his picture doing on Romys wall? He leaned closer to read the
inscription. To my favorite niece
He jerked back in disbelief and struggled with mixed emotions. The excitement of a potential
lead conflicted with the sadness for a friends loss. He felt like an intruder.

CHAPTER 6
Jack selected the Br und Bulle, a large tavern in Viennas financial district frequented by the
citys bankers and stockbrokers. The mid-afternoon lull between the overflow lunch and happy
hour business gave him needed privacy.
He settled in an empty rear section at a small, round table abutting the taverns typical darkwood wainscot.
Ski needed to know the truth about Romys death, so Jack ordered a stein of Helles beer and
worked on a plan.
Mary answered the phone after a half-ring. Its about time you called. Im going crazy.
Im sorry, but the meeting turned into a nightmare and this is my first chance to call.
The explanation calmed her. Fill me in, she said.
Ill have more details and the time to update you when I get home tomorrow.
Tomorrow!
The conversation reached its inevitable critical point. He hoped her involvement would ease
her frustration. I have no choice Mary. We require a local contact here, and I need you to set it up
for us.
He grimaced through her insufferable pause. Okay, give me the plan.
Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Call your friend at the Vienna station. Ask if she will talk to
Mike Wolenski on the sly and have him call me from a secure line away from the station.
Why the cloak and dagger?
We dont want the Agency involved until we figure out the scenario.
Makes sense, she said. Ill call you if theres a problem.
Thanks Mary. Ill see you tomorrow.
Mike (aka Ski) called in ten minutes with tempered excitement to hear from an old friend.
He apologized for his somber mood. Three hours earlier, he learned of the accidental death of a
close relative.
Jack gave him his condolences, and offered to buy him a beer at the Br und Bulle. When
Ski accepted, he closed the call and stared at his phone dreading the conversation with Ski about
his niece.
Ski joined Jack with fresh steins of Helles from the bar. The stress of Romys death showed on his
face and in his body language. He sipped his beer and cocked his head. Jesus Jack, howd you get
the monster mouse on your head?
Well cover it later, he said. Im glad you could break away.
Are you kidding? The Presidents new Agency policies leave a longtime field agent like me
with nothing but time on my hands. Besides, the distraction will help take my mind off my niece.
He kicked open the door for a Romy update and Jack took a deep breath to begin. Ski spoke
first.
Im convinced youre on a mission here Jack. Why else would you request a discrete contact
from me? Well be overrun with bankers and stockbrokers in a couple of hours, and you need to
reconsider your attire if you expect to glean intel from this group.
A grin filled Jacks face. I picked this place for two reasons Ski. I wanted to buy you a beer,
and we have the privacy needed to talk before their happy hour starts.
Okay, said Ski. Whats next?

I have bad news about Romy.

Skis craggy face screwed into confusion. How do you know my nieces name?
I met with her this morning. The incident happened when she left our meeting.
Incident? said Ski. You mean the accident.
Not an accident.
Skis well-known temper flared. His face reddened. You led killers to the meeting and my
niece paid the price?
Tired of the accusations, Jack snapped a response. Dont lay the blame on me. We didnt set
up the blind meet.
The blood drained from Skis face. Im sorry for jumping to a conclusion, I know better.
Jack understood his pain and hoisted his stein in acceptance.
Ski returned the gesture and paused. Who murdered Romy?
I dont know, said Jack. I could use your help to track down the bastards.
Im in, all the way. Whats our first step?
He showed Ski the flash drive. We need to see Romys intel.
Where are you staying?
I need to find a room.
Well work at my place. I have a spare bedroom and a full bottle of scotch.

CHAPTER 7
Jack dropped his tote in the spare bedroom and joined Ski on the tweed sofa in his living room.
I can use the scotch you mentioned to help dull the pain in my head, said Jack.
Ski smiled. Since Im pouring, I think its time for you to tell me what the hell happened.
One of our perps shot at me. The bullet hit the corner of the building and exploded the stone
fascia into my head.
Ski returned with the scotch and two glasses. He poured stiff drinks and handed one to Jack.
For medicinal purposes.
Jack gulped his scotch and raised his hand to decline a refill. Lets hold off until we analyze
this mess. Why would Romy get involved in this fiasco?
From a young age, Romy knew I worked for the Agency. Her youthful, vivid imagination
built my job into a James Bond vision, which she never outgrew. A couple of months ago, to curb
her enthusiasm, I explained how the Agencys new image and policies didnt permit me to forward
intel to Langley. She persisted though, and insisted if I stumbled onto something, she had a contact
to handle the transfer.
Ski dropped his chin to his chest and took in several deep breaths before he continued.
Anyway, two days ago an old contact called with high-level intel for me to send to Langley.
I told him our current, stupid policies no longer allowed me to transfer intel. Then, my conversation
with Romy came to mind. I could resolve two issues with one actionthe intel transfer to Langley
and the satisfaction of Romys lifelong dream. I never considered she intended to make the delivery
herself.
To make a long story short, I told my contact to expect a call from Romy to acquire the
intel. She damn near jumped out of her skin when I called her with the news. I gave her my
contacts secure number and Winos e-mail address for her contact to set the transfer meeting.
Jacks brow wrinkled. How do you know Wino and his address?
Ski hesitated. You met with Romy because Wino is your handler isnt he?
Jacks silence provided tacit confirmation, and Ski moved on to answer Jacks question.
Two weeks ago a friend called. His drive home routed him through Vienna, and we set up a
lunch visit.
I knew his status as a contract agent, and my conversation with Romy came to mind. I
explained her fascination with our trade and asked if she could contact him if I stumbled into intel.
Protocol didnt permit him to give me his contact information and ended the discussion. He
surprised me two days later when he called with Winos e-mail address. We worked out a
codename, Recce, for recognition.
He could not believe two legitimate agents created the amateur tag name used by Jurgen but
decided to move on.
We live in a small world, said Jack as he retrieved the flash drive from his pocket. Lets see
whats so damned important.
They stared in stunned silence at the e-mail in Arabic on the monitor.
Jack spoke first. No wonder your source warned Romy about the risk when he gave her the
intel.
Skis anger flared. The son-of-a-bitch didnt tell me, and now my niece is dead. I need to find
out why, he blurted as he speed dialed his phone. The voicemail engaged after four rings. Ski

slapped his phone shut. The bastard wont talk to me. He thought for a moment and entered a
new number. Ludwig, I need to locate Sigmund. He didnt answer his phone. Do you know
where I can find him? He listened for a moment, thanked Ludwig, and eased his phone shut.
A problem? asked Jack.
Sigmund suffered an accident yesterday. He slipped and fell down the stairs in his apartment
building and broke his neckno witnesses.
We may be the only two people on the planet, aside from the killers, who know Sigmunds
death was not an accident, said Jack. He sighed. Do you know how he acquired the intel?
He worked for Abwehr, the Army Counterintelligence Agency. The Intelligence Service,
Aufklrung, gathers and evaluates the intel. They forward the data deemed applicable to Abwehr
for action. Sigmunds job was to determine the proper department and execute the routing. He
copied our intel onto the flash drive before he sent it to the translation sector.
Why wouldnt Aufklrung translate the document before they forwarded it?
Per policy, they execute an immediate transfer of all Arabic intercepts to Abwehr. The fewer
eyes on the intel, the better.
Makes sense, said Jack. Do you know anyone who can translate this for us?
No one I trust.
I know someone, said Jack, but I need to send it from my op-center, which means an early
start in the morning.
Not a problem, Ill set an alarm. Were at a dead end until we get the translation. Are you
ready for a drink?
Jack felt the knot on his head. You bet I am.
With their efforts to track Romys killers at a standstill, Skis thoughts turned more personal.
He sipped his scotch and set the glass on the oak coffee table. Out of curiosity Jack, how did you
connect me to Romy?
I saw your picture on the wall in her apartment.
His head cocked. How did you end up there?
I coerced her contact into a meeting earlier in search of a lead to track down Romys killers.
His admin is a former roommate of Romys, and she made her address and apartment key
available.
Skis body slumped. Jurgen, if I knew he was her contact she would be alive today. Volker
Anwalt translates to Peoples Advocate. The government views him as a check and balance to keep
the Army in line, but its not a cloak and dagger operation. Jurgen has no concept of what we do.
The nature of the intel and his ineptness made this a suicide mission.
Silence reigned until the proverbial light bulb ignited. One more thing, said Jack. I took
pictures of the bastard who tailed me. Let me get my camera.
They scrolled through the shots Jack took for Mary and loaded the two photos of the morbid
tourist onto the computer. Ski clicked the first to full screen and stared dumfounded at the monitor.
Im confused, hes no Jihadist.
Youre right, said Jack, doesnt add up.
Ill take some vacation days to revive my contact network, said Ski. Ill try to track this guy
down while you work on the translation.
Lets stay in touch.

CHAPTER 8
Varenna, Italy
The Villa
Three hours into the tedious drive, Jack called Lev Isaacson. Lev, a friend and cohort for years,
headed Metsadas elite black ops group for Israel in Europe. Lev agreed to translate Jacks
document upon receipt in the early afternoon.
With Ski updated on his progress and his business completed, he called Mary. They agreed to
postpone the mission update until Jack arrived at the villa. Their lengthy and light-hearted
conversation eased the boredom and improved his frame of mind for the balance of the trip.
Mary rushed from the villa and wrapped her arms around Jack in a tight embrace. Welcome
home, she said as she tilted her head.
He leaned down and kissed her.
Grab your totes, she said. He reached for them, and her eyes drew to his head wound. My
God, what happened?
Hit with a rock, he said with a grin. Her stern gaze told him she did not appreciate his
humor. Ill give you the full details inside.
Ill pour the wine.
Jack joined her on the rawhide sofa.
She absorbed and digested his lengthy update. He leaned back, apprehensive of her response.
Well, we knew this day would come. I wish our easy contacts lasted longer. She exhaled.
Whats next?
Relieved with her attitude, he replied. Two things, we need to send the Arabic e-mail to Lev
for translation, and Ski will revive his network in the hope his contacts can identify the man who
followed me.
In their upstairs op-center, Jack opened Levs response to their e-mail. With Aaron in transit to
their op-center, Lev estimated an hour to complete the translation.
Jack asked Mary to make coffee for their work ahead and used the time to unpack and
shower.
Steam filled the room from above the glass door and invited him in. The hot water pounded on
his head and made his wound throb, so he leaned forward to direct the flow to his back and forced
his mind to distraction. Wino drifted into his thoughts. Franklin Cooper, the Assistant Director of
Field Operations for Europe, used Wino for his contact name. Cooper assisted him on a rogue
mission to track and neutralize a rebel agent. With a successful mission conclusion, Jack resigned
from the Agency and accepted Coopers contract agent offer. He wanted to analyze the Vienna
intel before he sent the expected update and needed to send a message to buy time. A short blast of
cold water invigorated him before he exited the shower.
His head injury, the missions stress, and lack of sleep made him feel like the loser in a train
wreck. He wiped the fog from the mirror and saw a vision to match. A clean shave and fresh
clothes helped.
How does your head feel?
Better than yesterday, he said. Thanks for your concern.
They sipped coffee on the deck and waited for Levs e-mail.

Mary wheeled her chair next to Jack. He clicked the message, and the cover letter displayed.

JackOpen the attached file for the translation. The Arabic is a

Saudi dialect. Keep me advised.Lev
Jacks body tingled. The translation would explain the high-level intel and give him a
direction. He opened the attachment with anticipation.

A Project Unity update for The Children of Jihad: Operation

Signature is on track and will be complete in two or three weeks.
When the signature is acquired, we will launch Project Unity, which
will unify the Muslim world and drive the infidels from our lands.
The Judge
Jack stared at the message in disbelief for a moment then shook his head and called Lev.
I expected your call Jack, said Lev. Whats your take?
Confusion, he said. The message is typical Jihadist rhetoric to hold the interest of their
followers, nothing here to activate a kill squad.
I concur, but we have acquired several codenames for future reference.
True, said Jack, but I find it difficult to believe anyones signature can accomplish their
stated goals.
No argument there. It makes zero sense. What about The Judge?
We know hes dead. Someones assumed his identity to continue his work. How the hell will
we ever track him down?
I contacted my man in Damascus. Hell reinstall the electronic detector across from the
Sheiks house tonight to intercept the e-mails. Ive instructed him to maintain surveillance and
photograph all traffic in and out.
Well need some luck Lev.
Youre right, he said. Lets stay in touch.
Mary handed Jack a fresh cup of coffee. Fill me in.
Were at a standstill. I hope Ski finds a direction.

CHAPTER 9
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
The young man in the routing department processed the large stack of received mail in his IN
basket. One by one, he reviewed the top piece, tagged it, and placed it in a slot for delivery to the
correct sector. Midway through the pile, he found an unfamiliar item, a small, locked diplomatic
pouch. He followed procedure and took the mystery item to the department manager.
Burt raised his head when Billy entered with the locked pouch. You got one, he said with a
laugh.
What is it?
Intel from Austrian counterintelligence. When it comes to data transfer, they operate in the
dark ages and believe the electronic method leaves a trail. They hand-deliver the flash drives to our
Vienna agent, and he sends them to us via State Department diplomatic couriers. A thoughtful
pauseActually, I cant blame them.
How do I process this?
He extended his hand. They gave it to you in error.
The man with grey crew-cut hair and a golfers tan waited for Billy to leave to access the
pouchs master key from his desk. He inserted the enclosed flash drive into his computer to
determine the routing.
Burt glossed over the body of the message to read the footnote. Intercepted e-mail
translated from Arabic.
With the name Andy Caldwell written on a level-five security envelope, he sealed the
Austrian flash drive inside and called for an interoffice courier.
Despite the civilian clothes, General Richard Sholtz maintained a distinctive military look, short
brown hair and a weathered face etched by the sun over years of field service. With his paperwork
processed, he stretched his legs and ambled to the window for a glimpse of the outside world. He
again wished for a field command, in a war zone if possible. Any command to keep him from the
National Security Council meetings with the President and the honchos who made policy. Any
command to get him out from behind a damned desk. Any command except his current one as head
of the NSA.
He snapped his eyes to his Black Warrior special ops watch in response to the sharp rap on his
office door. Come in Andy, he bellowed.
A mid-thirtyish, blue-eyed man with wavy, sun-streaked hair entered and placed a large
manila envelope on the desk.
Your agenda and file copies for the NSC meeting in the morning, he explained.
Thanks for the usual excellent work Andy, said Sholtz. He placed the envelope in his
briefcase and pointed to the manila folder in his assistants hand. What else?
This is Austrian intel we received this morning.
Sholtz studied the translated printout of the Project Unity e-mail and placed it in the folder.
Nothing concrete, but I need to push it upstairs to cover my ass. Make an appointment with
Cole Andrews for after the NSC meeting. Burn a copy of the intel for him and put in an envelope
to fit in my coat pocket. The folded copy breach of protocol will get under his skin.

Right away Sir, he said with a subtle grin.

Its no more than Jihadist bluster, but update me on any related intel just in case.
Yes Sir, said Andy. Ill flag the Austrian intel Directors Priority One.
No, I dont want to draw any attention.
Not a problem Sir. With the routing assigned to this intel type, Ill see it first and update you
on its arrival.
Perfect Andy, thanks.
The NSC meetings proved painful enough, and now he needed to close this trip to The White
House with the most arrogant and distasteful person on the planet. He hated this job.

CHAPTER 10
The White House
Cole Andrews replaced the phone handset in its cradle and checked his schedule. One appointment
remained, Rick Sholtz after NSC meeting. He glanced at his watch and tilted the executive chair
back.
When Sholtz headed all special-ops in the Middle East, his rogue attitude created negative
press for the re-election campaign. Cole convinced the President to reassign Sholtz at the first
opportunity to solve the problem.
Sholtz brazen black ops success earned him a cult hero status in the eyes of the public and
forced them to select a promotion for his new assignment.
His new position as Director of the NSA proved tenuous for Cole. He considered the General
a ticking time bomb.
The intercom interrupted. General Sholtz to see you.
Send him in.
Sholtz sat across the desk from the brown-haired man with hazel eyes and a superior air.
He greeted the General with a smile. Good to see you Rick.
Sholtz hated Coles smile, more of a smirk, which fit his character to perfection. I brought
intel we received yesterday, he said matter-of-factly and handed him the envelope from his jacket
pocket.
The smile on Coles face faded as he opened the tri-folded paper.
Nothing to get excited about yet, he said after a quick read.
I know, said Sholtz. Why do you think I brought it here and not to the NSC or the
President?
Coles face reddened. His voice elevated. You know the policy in regards to the President.
All of your intel clears through me for evaluation. He doesnt need his brain muddied with
unsubstantiated threats.
The policy is your personal agenda for control to spoon-feed the President with your course
of action. Your lone objective is his re-election.
Its my job!
Not at the cost of Americas security, bellowed Sholtz.
Cole replied, his face beet red. You dont know what youre talking about.
The hell I dont, he roared. What about your kinder, gentler CIA policy?
The majority of voters demanded action to nullify the Agencys interrogation methods.
Bullshit, your divisive campaign bullied them into your thinking to capture their votes.
Youve curtailed our ability to gather field intel in the war against terrorism and put our nation at
risk.
Cole regretted his loss of control and took a moment to regain composure. The red faded from
his face. Youre walking barefoot in a field of broken glass General. Id watch my step if I were
you.
Sholtz stood. I suggest you heed your own advice Mister Andrews, he said, then spun about
with military precision and exited the office.

CHAPTER 11
Varenna, Italy
The Villa
Jack and Mary refilled their coffee mugs and settled in their op-center to wait for responses from
Lev and Ski. To combat his frustration, Jack shifted his thoughts to the positive. The reduced lump
on his head and the minimal pain put his recovery at ninety per cent.
His spirits soared when he checked his caller ID. Good morning Lev.
Good morning to you Jack. Are you ready for some good news?
Youre damned right I am, said an excited Jack.
We got lucky, our Syrian shot in the dark worked. My man intercepted an outgoing e-mail
from The Judge to a contact named Ursa.
How quick can you send me a copy?
Not long, said Lev, no translation required.
They agreed on the oddity of the English language message and their good fortune. The
Judges replacement operated from the same location.
A message alert sounded as Jack returned with coffee refills. Damn quick response, he said.
Mary clicked on the message. Wino wants an update on the intel you acquired in Vienna.
Jack dropped his head. I wasnt in the mood last night. He sent a response.

WinoRed flag this contact. Two people involved are dead and I
missed being the third by an inch. Attached copy translated from
Arabic. We dont have much; will update you as new info
surfaces.Resurrected
They received the expected response within a minute. Wino thanked him for the report and
urged caution.
He sipped coffee and paced the floor to tolerate his least favorite thing, waiting. His heart rate
elevated when Mary opened the message from Lev.

UrsaYour portion of Operation Signature will be ready in two or

three weeks. I will give you four days notice to be in position for your
part of the mission. Follow instructions and all will be well.The
Judge
With no lead gleaned from the message, Jack gave Mary the flash drive to add the e-mail to
Romys intel.
Lev answered the expected call from Jack. Didnt tell us much.
I assume they received their instructions in a prior message.
Well stay on the Syria intercept. I added personnel for full time surveillance.
Call me with anything new, said Jack and closed the call.
Weve sure been busy for damn little accomplished, said Mary.
Jack agreed as he checked his caller ID. Hello Ski.
Good morning Jack. How goes the battle on your end?

Weve beat our heads against a block wall all morning. The translation gave us no direction.
Any luck on your end?
Maybe, he said.
Jack sat erect. Dial me in.
The jerk who followed you tailed me yesterday.
How the hell did they get on you?
I dont know, said Ski. I downloaded my contact list and spotted him a block after I left the
Agency.
So he knew you and where you worked. He staked out the office and waited for you to
show.
Yeah, and now they know what I drive. These boys are rank amateurs in the black ops
business though. Theyre easier to spot than a strobe light and havent the foggiest concept of a
covert follow.
What do you mean by these boys Ski?
I started with my field contacts and struck pay dirt with number three. He thinks our tail
works for one of the Russian gangs.
They dont get involved in ethnic or political agendas. What the hell is going on?
I dont know Jack, but at least we have a direction. My contact will research this today and
call me in the morning to set an update meeting. Can you join us?
Hell yes, said Jack. He checked the time. Ill be at your place by eight tonight.
Call me from the driveway, and Ill open the garage door.
A sly grin filled Marys face. You gave yourself extra time for the drive.
I have to pack, he teased.
If I help, well have more time to spend together before you leave.

CHAPTER 12
Vienna, Austria
Jack stirred awake an hour before the expected call from Skis contact, which gave him time for a
long, hot shower.
Ski handed him a welcome mug of steaming coffee when he joined him in the kitchen. I trust
you slept well.
Like a stone, I am ready for the meeting, he said as he answered his sat-phone. Good
morning Lev, whatcha got?
We received an update from Syria, a photo of a woman leaving the house with two
bodyguards. On a hunch, I sent the picture to Haifa for identification. Shes Sheik Faisel AlFakeehs eldest daughter.
Makes sense, she assumed his covert identity to continue the terrorist activity.
They agree, said Lev. We piqued Haifas interest, so you need to keep me updated.
Not a problem, said Jack and closed the call.
Whats the news? asked Ski.
Do you remember your mission in the Bavarian forest I tagged along on two years ago?
Sure, we uncovered a Jihadist cell. They opened fire when we arrived and gave us no choice.
We took them out.
One of the Jihadists was the older son of Faisel Al-Fakeeh, a Saudi Sheik who financed and
controlled small terrorist cells. A year ago, I participated in an operation to neutralize the Sheik and
his other son. I know they never found the bodies, and the intel suggests his daughter took over the
network to continue his work.
Ski nodded. How does this relate to our problem?
Yesterday, we intercepted an e-mail from her fathers alias, The Judge, to a contact named
Ursa.
Ursa is Latin for bear, not a big stretch to make it Russian bear, said Ski.
And establish a connection between the Jihadist cell and a Russian group, added Jack.
Means nada to us Jack if we cant verify our bad boys are Russian gangsters.
I agree. How does your contact access the Russian Mafia data?
He runs field operations for Aufklrung. They set up networks and gather intel for analysis.
Ski answered his phone, listened, and replied, Thirty minutes.
You didnt drive the Land Rover, said Ski when they entered the garage.
The Audi blends into traffic, harder for a tail to spot.
Lets take yours since they know mine.
You read my mind, said Jack. He tossed him the key. You know the way.
East of the Danube Canal, Ski turned the Audi off Leopoldsg Street into Karmelitermarkt, a section
of older one-story buildings. They passed an assortment of small cafs and food shops to park in
front of the Kaffeehaus Internet.
A buzzer sounded to announce their arrival when Ski pushed open the aged wood door. A
short, slender man with cropped, dark hair stepped from the office to greet his customer. A broad
smile broke onto his pasty-white face when he recognized Ski. After a handshake and brief hug,
Ski introduced Jack to Braun.
They followed to a rear door where their host moved aside a picture on the wood paneled

wall. Braun adjusted his wire-framed glasses to enter four digits on a recessed keypad. The door
clicked ajar and allowed access to a small, windowless room with a simple dcor; wood paneled
walls and a round, oak pedestal table centered in the room.
Seated on wood chairs, Ski filled coffee mugs from the black thermal carafe on the table.
The need for a positive contribution from Skis contact raised Jacks anxiety level. I hope he
brings something of value for us.
Relax man, well know soon enough.
The door clicked and Horst joined them, a near twin to Braun but for his tan face.
Jack sensed apprehension when they shook hands, pleased Ski needed to deal with his
contact.
Horst handed Ski a large manila envelope and poured a mug of coffee.
Without hesitation, they identified the man who tailed them from the six photos spread on the
table.
My Russian Mafia connection theory is right on point, said Horst. He placed a finger on
another of the photos. Vadim Dvorkin, the head of this group. Youve stumbled onto the worst of
the worst. Dvorkin could not compete with the larger gangs and built a small crew to do the dirty
work for the others. He hires out for the killings, bombings, and any other nasty work they need
done.
Sounds like the old Murder Incorporated in the States, said Ski.
The consensus is he patterned his crew after them, confirmed Horst. Why in the hell are
they after you guys?
In complete detail, Ski brought him up-to-date.
Horst offered sincere condolences for the death of Skis niece. He paused. What can I do to
help?
We need to verify if Dvorkin is in fact Ursa, said Ski. If we send a crew in to shake them
down, they can check his computer e-mail messages for confirmation.
Is this an official Agency request?
No, said Ski.
Horst pursed his lips and made eye contact with Jack. Do you work for the Agency?
Im no longer on their employee payroll.
He nodded his head and paused, We have a problem.
Jacks heart sank. He sensed yet another dead end on the horizon.
Horst continued. When my research suggested Dvorkins crew, I called my contact at
Viennas Organized Crime Enforcement Unitthe OKD. He verified my conclusion and gave me
the bad news. They vacated their operations house two weeks ago, and their new location is
unknown.
Unbelievable, said Jack. In the grander scheme of things, what does this mean?
Not much, said Horst. They change locations a couple of times a year, theyll soon surface.
However, a bigger problem exists. OKD is a jurisdictional stickler, and the Russians belong to
them. I cannot involve Abwehr in this without proof of espionage or terrorist activity by Dvorkin.
As it stands now, I can do nothing for you.
Horst dropped the expected dead end bomb, and with no direction, Jack slipped into a black
holedefeated.
They thanked Horst for his time and the effort put forth. He reminded them to call if new intel
surfaced.

The grey Audi exited Karmelitermarkt and turned south onto Leopoldsg Street. The two men
rode in silence.

CHAPTER 13
Ski filled coffee mugs and joined Jack at the dinette table. Im sorry man, I expected help from
Horst.
On the drive to Skis house, Jack crawled from his black hole to glean the positives from their
meeting. We learned a lot from him Ski. He identified our enemy and their line of work, plus we
now have photos of the entire crew.
True, said Ski. But I wanted him to help track these bastards down.
We cant expect him to commit political suicide. He needs some semblance of proof to
proceed.
Ski sighed, Youre right Jack. The lack of action to find Romys killers frustrates me and
skews my reasoning.
I feel the same Ski, so we need to design our own plan. He paused. You do know how this
will end?
Either them or us, he said. Ill bring my Beretta out of retirement. Where do we start?
With no way to locate them, we need to let them find us.
The crack of Skis hand as it slapped the table echoed through the room. Perfect, he said.
Ill go to the office and ditch their tail when I leave. Well follow him to their location. His face
turned curious. I still dont know how they got onto me. He stood erect. Wait a minute, they had
to get
Jack raised his hand as he checked his caller ID. Good morning Lev, do you have news for
me?
I do, but dont get too excited.
At this point, Im thrilled with anything.
My techie, Uri, played around with the intercepted e-mails and discovered embedded text.
No shit! said Jack. What do they say?
I dont know. We need the access code to read them.
Whats your time estimate?
Somewhere between a day and a million years, chuckled Lev.
Jack regretted his stupid question, he knew better. I understand. The embedded text does,
however, support our terrorist scenario.
Lev agreed and closed the call.
Sorry Ski, sounded like you were on to something.
Someone gave the Russians info on me, and Ive narrowed my candidates to one person
Ludwig. When I called him, pissed because Sigmund didnt answer his phone, he put it together. I
bet he sent them a copy of the picture on Sigmunds desk of him and me from an old-fart softball
game at an Agency picnic.
Youre sure no one else knows of your involvement?
Positive, said Ski. I cant believe this crap.
Jack hesitated. You need to contact Horst to give him your scenario. He cant help us without
proof, but he needs to know. Also, tell him The Judges e-mail that started all this shit contains
embedded text. Ill check in with Mary while you update Horst.
Ski grabbed his phone. Ill call him from my office to give you privacy.
After they discussed the Vienna events, Mary advised him of an e-mail from Wino pressing

for an update. They needed a reply to buy time. Jack agreed, and they decided to inform him of the
embedded text development. They will have the original message to send him in a few days. Jack
closed the call when Ski returned.
Howd it go with Horst?
Better than expected, said Ski. He wants to check out what I gave him, and asked if we
could sit tight for a couple of hours. He promised to call with the results.
Surprise! said Jack. Well, two hours at this point cant hurt.

CHAPTER 14
Jack and Ski viewed Horsts call for a meeting a positive sign. Adrenaline stirred as they packed
weapons in their totes for an anticipated covert mission.
They joined Horst at the oak table in the windowless room and waited for him to finish a
phone call.
He snapped his phone closed and made eye contact with Jack. My tech-man verified the
embedded text in the intercepted e-mail. You have access to high level intel, and with the Agencys
current lamblike policies I assume they are not the source.
Horst was fishing and their involvement in the mission depended upon Jacks response. He
measured his words. Over twenty years of black ops work for the Agency I developed an
extensive contact network, and Ive never divulged the identity of a single source. I can tell you this
particular contact is high level and above reproach.
Jack maintained strict contact with Horsts blue eyes behind his wire frame glasses. He dared
not be first to break the connection.
After an indeterminate time, Horsts posture relaxed. He leaned into the table. Has your man
accessed the embedded text?
He said it could take a million years.
The same answer I got from my tech man, said Horst, a slight grin on his face.
With the hurdle cleared, they eased into the briefing.
The embedded text raised my confidence that this falls under my authority to initiate action,
said Horst. Your contention that Ludwig is Dvorkins mole makes perfect sense, but we need
verification before we go further.
Jack nodded. Whats next?
Depends on your involvement, he said.
Were in, said Jack.
Horst nodded and continued, If we confirm Ludwigs mole status well move into phase two,
which has potential for extreme danger. He waited for a response.
Were in all the way, said Ski.
Okay, what we discuss from this point stays between the three of us. Abwehr operates a
covert team so sub rosa the unit has no name, just initialsRRT, for Rapid Response Team. We
call them Rott, for Rottweilerour bigger, meaner dog. I enlisted their help for this operation,
which has a terminal status.
Horst poured coffee with an eye on Jack and Ski for a reaction to his finality of the mission
comment. With no visible effects, he continued, I sent a dummy message to a contact at Abwehr
that needs to be processed by Ludwig. If he is the mole, he will deliver a copy to Dvorkin today.
This is where you guys come in.
Both men straightened with attentive gazes.
Rott planted a GPS transmitter on Ludwigs car. He retrieved a receiver with a five-inch
square screen from his tote on the table. This will track his location so you dont lose him in
traffic. If he connects with Dvorkin or one of his crew, call me to activate Rott. Do you have the
photos to identify them?
Ski nodded and patted his tote.
Ignore Ludwig and follow his contact. We need the location of their op-center for Rott to

complete the operation tonight.

Jack stood. Lets go to work Ski.

CHAPTER 15
They followed Ludwig from the Abwehr parking lot to a middle class section of the city rife with
bars and restaurants. Ski drove and Jack used Horsts GPS receiver to navigate.
He stopped mid-block on the next street. Make two quick lefts.
I see him, said Ski as Ludwig stepped from the sidewalk into Rudys, a popular local bar.
Perfect place to meet a contact, mused Jack aloud. I need to check it out.
Are you sure about
We have no choice, interrupted Jack. The Russian may be inside waiting for him. He
fished a grey baseball cap from his tote and pulled it tight on his head. Ill text you the status.
Jack crossed the wood plank-floor to the near end of the long bar on the right. He sneaked a
glance toward the rear. Ludwig sat alone on the upholstered bench seat that ran the length of the
left wall. Small, round tables and wooden chairs lined the front of the bench. Jack ordered coffee
from the bartender and climbed the stairs to the empty loft. He secured a vantage point above
Ludwig and entered a text message to Ski, OK.
After ten long minutes, Jack read Skis text message, Pay dirt. He filled with adrenaline.
They were in business. He pulled his cap tight and readied the digital camera.
A tinge of anger rose in Jack when he saw the man who took Romys death pictures. With a
drink from the bar, the Russian sauntered to the rear and sat on the bench seat next to Ludwig. He
executed a visual check of the area before he placed an envelope from his coat pocket on the seat
between them.
In a few seconds, Ludwig wrapped his hand around the envelope and left a flash drive in its
place. He finished his drink and meandered from the bar.
The Russian placed the flash drive in his pocket and relaxed to sip his drink.
Jack found himself in an awkward position. The baseball cap did not provide an effective
disguise. If they left the bar at the same time, the Russian would recognize him and end the mission.
Worse yet, he might start shooting. If the Russian left first, Jack needed to wait for him to access his
car and drive from sight before he set foot on the sidewalk. He estimated the odds for a successful
follow at an unacceptable fifty percent.
With his dilemma contemplated for a moment, Jack entered a text to Ski. Struck Au, have
pics, if he leaves b4 me, u tail solo. Though a terrible resolution for him, it guaranteed a follow
opportunity for Ski. He pressed the send button and resumed his surveillance.
Despair set in when the Russian finished his drink and retrieved a ring of keys from his
pocket, but an angel arrived. A cocktail waitress stopped to clear the table and ask for a drink order.
Jacks glimmer of hope vanished when he waved a decline. Halfway to the bar, she spun to face
the Russian. Did he change his mind? Jack held his breath for what seemed an eon, and his spirits
soared when she served him a fresh drink.
He resisted the urge for a hasty exit and eased down the stairs through the door to the bright
sunlight.
I got your message. If you took photos of the transaction, weve struck the mother lode, said
an excited Ski, plus, your exit before him is the best possible scenario for us.
Thank God he ordered a second drink, said Jack. He laughed. Lady Luck blessed us for a
change.
In twenty minutes, the Russian left Rudys for his brown Fiat. They followed at a secure

distance.
The lengthy trip to the suburbs allowed time for Jack to think. The plan has a major flaw Ski.
We wont know if he takes us to their op-center or his home. Rott might bust in on his wife and
kids. We need to call Horst.
Ski handed him his phone. Hit the redial button, I called him to alert the Rott team when I got
your message.
After a short conversation with Horst, Jack returned Skis phone. He agreed and gave us a
green light if we can figure out a safe way for verification.
Hell, Ski huffed. The only way for confirmation is to go in the house. Well know its their
op-center when they greet us with a hail of bullets.
I agree, said Jack, and if we do get inside, we dont know how many guns well be up
against, might be all six of them.
They continued the drive in silence. Dusk set in as they followed into a neighborhood of
single-family homes and turned left onto a side street. The Fiat pulled curbside in mid-block, and
the brake lights darkened as the interior lights ignited.
I can get us in the house if you want to go for it, said Jack. You need to tell me now.
Ski exhaled. What the hell, you gotta die sometime.
Get me in a position to confront him, said Jack. He attached the sound suppressor to his Sig
Sauer. Call in the address and park the car on the street.
Jack dropped the side window when Ski accelerated the Audi and made a sharp turn into the
driveway. The Russian turned towards the sound. His hand reached inside his coat.
I wouldnt, Jack warned.
The Russian eased his hand from his coat with his eyes locked on the silenced pistol pointed at
him.
With your left thumb and forefinger, pull the gun out from under your coat, drop it in front of
you, and kick it away.
He complied and Jack stepped onto the driveway.
Who are you? What do you want?
When Jack approached close enough for recognition in the fading light, the Russians eyes
opened in wide surprise.
Now you know the answer to your first question, said Jack. What I want is for you to take
us in the house.
Are you crazy? Theyll kill you.
Im already on your hit parade and dont have much to lose.
Ski returned with his silenced Berretta and gave Jack a nod. He was ready.
Decision time, said Jack. You take us in the house, or Ill drop you where you stand.

CHAPTER 16
The Russian inserted his key and twisted it to the unlocked position. With the door ajar, he shouted
in Russian to alert the household. The interior light darkened.
Jack grabbed a handful of the Russians sport coat and used him for a battering ram. The door
burst open to muzzle flashes and muffled pops. Two bullets thudded into his shields body, and
Jack hung on to his coat when they fell forward to the floor. He bounced off the Russian, rolled to
his right, and opened fire. Rapid-fire muzzle flashes from Skis Berretta lit the room behind him.
The return fire ceased.
They inserted full magazines in their pistols and verified the fatal status of the two Russians.
After a quick recon of the house, they dragged the bodies to a bedroom.
Ski flipped his phone open. I need to update Horst.
I checked the office, no computer, said Jack. I assume Dvorkin uses a laptop and keeps it
with him.
With a nod, he punched in Horsts number and connected after a half-ring. We confirm this
as their op-house. Not a woman alive would live in this dump, laughed Ski. Two down on the
body count, and no computer in the The sound of the opening garage door froze him.
Company, he whispered and pressed the end call button.
They secured positions with a view of the living room and hoped for the best. A door opened
in the hallway, then closed and alerted them to the new arrival. A male voice called out in Russian.
With no response, he entered the living room, greeted by rapid fire from both pistols.
Dvorkin, said Jack after he checked for a pulse. He opened the black leather case beside the
body and gave Ski a thumb up. Good shooting Ski, no damage to the laptop.
Change the count to three, said Ski after he re-connected with Horst. Our arrival was
Dvorkin and his laptop. He listened and closed the call.
Ski set his phone to photo mode. Horst needs our pictures for the Rott team leader to identify
us as friends.
I like the way he thinks.
With the pictures sent, Ski completed the instructions. Well wait for Rott to arrive then join
Horst at the Kaffeehaus Internet. Hell give them clearance for us to deliver the laptop.
Jack accepted the instructions with mixed emotions. The laptop was a key to their problems
resolution, and he wanted first crack at it.
His initial disappointment eased when a thought surfaced. The forty-minute drive to the
Kaffeehaus Internet gave him time for a cursory inspection of the laptop. His heart pounded in his
chest as he checked the time. The five-minute wait for Rott now seemed an eternity.
They transferred control to the team leader and left for the Kaffeehaus Internet. Ski whipped a
u-turn from the curb to retrace their drive into the neighborhood.
Dont be in a rush, said Jack as he unzipped the computer case.
Ski glanced over when Jack turned on the Audis reading lamp to open the laptop. I can add
a few minutes to the trip, he said with a sly grin.
Much appreciated, said Jack. He double-clicked the lone icon on the screens snowy
mountain wallpaper. Jack did not read Russian, but he recognized the small tan box with an input
area. Shit, we need a password.
With no access to the laptop and no guarantee Horst would share the intel, Jacks malaise

returned. He slid the laptop into the leather case and felt the outline of an item in a front pocket.
Do you recall any mention of a PDA?
No, not at all.
Well hell, said Jack with a broad smile. We might be in business if we dont tell Horst.
He wont hear it from me, assured Ski.
Jack slipped the PDA in his tote and turned off the reading lamp.
Horst stood to greet Jack and Ski when the door clicked open. He recognized and understood
Jacks frustration when he surrendered the computer case.
Ill give you the applicable intel when we gain access Jack. You need to be patient though;
the Russian password requires additional time.
Who decides whats applicable, asked Jack.
I do, said Horst.
I need access to all the data Horst. You know how a small bit of info can unite unrelated facts
to expose their value.
I am sorry Jack, those are the rules. You have to trust me. He retrieved glasses and brandy
from his tote. He poured drinks and raised his glass. For a job well done.
A toast to an incomplete mission escaped Jacks logic, but Horsts promise to give him intel
from the laptop forced him to participate.
They downed their drinks, and Horst poured refills.
Ski sipped his and set the glass on the table. Can we get a mission update?
Five down and one to go, he said. We arrested Ludwig an hour ago. He denied the charges
until we showed him Jacks pictures of the data transfer, and he folded like a cheap tent in a
windstorm. Horst lifted his glass to Jack.
With the salute complete, Jack rose from the table. We need to call it a night. I have an early
wakeup call for a long drive tomorrow.

CHAPTER 17
CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
Franklin Cooper flipped the final processed file into his OUT basket. He keyed in the password to
his laptop and opened the e-mail, a message from Resurrected. Robertas voice sounded from the
intercom before he replied.
Senator Dawson is on line one.
Their friendship developed over the past year since the junior Senator joined the CIAs
oversight committee.
Good morning Leo, what can I do for you?
I called to fulfill a promise.
What promise? said Cooper, confused.
One of our foursome dropped out today. If your schedule permits, Id like you to join us at
Congressional.
Coopers heart pounded. A round of golf at the Congressional Country Club topped of his
things to do before I die list. Id love to, he said. Whats the tee-time?
Forty minutes, I hope its not a problem.
Not at all, my clubs are in the car.
Short on time, his mind spun. He paged Roberta in the outer office.
Roberta is in the restroom Mr. Cooper.
The male voice belonged to Daniel Hunter, a trainee assigned to Cooper by Human
Resources. A month under Coopers wing convinced him Danny was not CIA material, but with
not a minute to spare, he asked him to come to his office.
The chubby young man with short, dark curly hair adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses as he
entered.
Cooper rifled though the files in his OUT basket and waved him alongside.
Danny sneaked a peek at the e-mail displayed on the laptop while Cooper finished and handed
him three folders.
Give these to Roberta when she returns. They require action today. The balance in the basket
is for filing. Tell her I am playing golf with Senator Dawson at the Congressional Country Club.
She needs to reschedule my appointments.
Ill take care of it Sir.
Cooper shut down the laptop and placed it in a high-security metal carrying case. He would
send the response after golf.
When Roberta returned, Danny relayed Coopers instructions to her. She smiled when told of
his golf outing. Good for him.
Since Mr. Cooper is out of the office, can I take an early lunch? asked Danny.
Roberta nodded her approval and waved him off with a smile.
Danny completed the ten-minute drive to a strip mall and parked his red VW Bug in front of
Cyber Bobs Bistro.
Thankful for the early arrival ahead of the midday crowd, he ordered lunch and settled at a
computer station in the empty internet room.

After a month on the job, he uncovered his first intel for the cause. Filled with satisfaction, he
sent the message.

VengadorRunning late for a tee time at Congressional Country

Club, Cooper was careless. I saw an e-mail for Wino from
Resurrected. It read, In a few days, I will send the original Arabic
copy of the intercepted e-mail with embedded text not yet
accessed.Danny
Cooper and the Senator sipped cocktails in Congressionals lounge after golf.
Thank you Leo, I didnt think Id ever get to play Congressional. It can be crossed off my
wish list.
My pleasure Coop, Im glad this worked out for you.
Cooper glanced at his watch. Id love to stay, but I need to review the days events.
I understand, said the Senator. Have an attendant drive you to your car.
Thanks for the suggestion.
The attendant transferred his clubs to the trunk of the Lexus. Cooper thanked him with a fivedollar bill.
He slid behind the steering wheel and paused for a last contented view of Congressional
before he turned the ignition key.
The powerful explosion rocked the grounds and surrounding neighborhood. The Lexus
heaved upward engulfed in a mass of flame.

CHAPTER 18
Deputy Director Bailey Howorth closed the day with his normal routine. He checked todays
calendar for unfinished items and moved them to tomorrows schedule.
The intercom crackled.
Senator Dawson is on line two.
Thank you Stella, said Bailey. Hello Leo, what can I do for you?
I have bad news Bailey, Cooper is dead.
Baileys body turned cold. He leaned back in shock and sucked in a deep breath. Are you
sure?
Im positive, confirmed the Senator.
What happened?
His car exploded.
Where at, asked Bailey.
In the parking lot of the Congressional Country Club forty minutes ago, he said. I finished
my drink and left the bar five minutes after Cooper. On my way to the parking lot, I heard and felt
the explosion. A ball of fire shot high in the air. I ran over, but couldnt get close because of the
intense heat. The fire department showed in ten minutes to extinguish the blaze, and a couple of
minutes later the police arrived. Theyre trying to figure out what happened.
I have no idea what Coop was into to elicit this response, said Bailey. Did you see any
cause for Agency concern?
Possibly, he said. A ribbed metal case behind the car, ejected from the trunk with the golf
clubs.
Do you know its size?
Oha large briefcase, he said.
Sounds like an S9 high-security case. Any chance you can get your hands on it?
I spoke to the police Lieutenant when he arrived and explained the situation. He classified the
incident as a probable homicide, and he cant allow access to the crime scene until they finish their
investigation.
Not good, said Bailey.
I asked him to call his Chief. With a written request that identifies the case as an item of
national security, they will release it to the Agency when they have completed their preliminary
investigation and the crime scene photos.
Ill have an agent on site in an hour Senator. Thank you for your help.
Bailey summoned Stella to the office to dictate the request and arrange for an agent to retrieve
the case. With the request signed, he donned his grey pin-stripe suit coat and headed down one
floor.
He stopped short of the entrance to Coopers office. Roberta worked with Cooper for many
years. They formed a strong bond of friendship, and she developed a fierce loyalty toward him. He
also realized their conversation would put the tragedy on a more personal level for him. With his
thoughts collected, he exhaled and reached for the doorknob.
Roberta greeted him with a warm smile. Mr. Cooper is out of the office Sir, she politely
informed him.
He preferred a beating to the conversation with Roberta. I came to see you.

Her smile changed to concern. What about, Mr. Howorth?

I have bad news, said Bailey. He paused to swallow. Cooper was killed this afternoon.
She sank in her chair, eyes filled with tears. Her skin turned ashen, and her stylish grey hair
looked drab.
Bailey fought his own tears back as he watched her reaction to the news. He gave her time for
composure.
She sat erect and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. What happened?
A car bomb in the parking lot at Congressional.
She closed her eyes. Why would anybody kill him?
I dont know, said Bailey, but well unleash the dogs to find out.
Her hand shook as she reached for a fresh tissue.
Ill have someone take you home. Bailey called the onsite hospital. He arranged for a nurse
to drive her and stay until confident she could manage alone. Take as much time off as you need
Roberta.
Bailey saw the anger in her face when she responded. Please have someone pick me up in
the morning. I need to be here to research what you uncover.
He now fully understood Coopers reliance on her.
After Roberta left for home with the nurse, Bailey turned his attention to the chubby, young
man at the small desk in the corner, a typical trainee setup.
Whats your name?
Daniel Hunter Sir.
How long have you trained under Cooper?
About a month.
The trainees blank expression and unemotional answers convinced Bailey he suffered from
shock. He needed time to recover.
Go home for rest today, and report to my office tomorrow. I need you accessible for
corroboration when we uncover clues.
Hunter complied and Bailey moved to Coopers office. He called Stella to arrange a
workstation in the secretarial pool for the trainee.
Confident Coopers case held a laptop; Bailey contacted a friend in Tech Support and asked
him to set time aside for a personal project.
In the quiet office, Baileys eyes drifted to the mass of framed awards, certificates, degrees,
and photos covering the oak paneled end wall, the remnants of a stellar career. Sadness crept in. He
lost a good friend today.

CHAPTER 19
Varenna, Italy
The Villa
Jack stirred awake and checked the time, five oclock. Anxious to start the long drive home, he
dressed and zeroed in on the kitchen light.
I couldnt sleep either, cant get my mind off the sixth Russian, said Ski. He handed Jack a
mug of coffee.
I know what you mean. Call me when Rolf updates his status.
Ski nodded.
Two hours into the trip, Jack answered the call from Ski. Whatcha got bud?
Bad news, the sixth Russian never showed.
Shit, said Jack. His mind swirled. This is terrible.
It gets worse, hes Dvorkins nephew.
Damn, a blood feud if he figures out we were behind the raid on their op-house.
Hell, he can make our photos available to every Russian gangster in Europe. Anybody we
meet on the street could put us in their sights.
Ski was right; they were in a horrible position. Let me know if you hear from Horst again,
and be careful.
You too, said Ski to close the call.
The muscles in Jacks neck and upper back tightened. He kept a constant vigil of his
surroundings on the balance of the long drive. If followed, he would put Mary in the line of fire.
Confident of a clear tail, Jack drove to the Villa. His tension eased when Mary greeted him with a
kiss and a prolonged tight hug.
When her grip relaxed, he gave her a quick kiss. I need a stiff drink.
She poured double scotches and joined him on the rawhide sofa. Unusual for him to crave a
drink on his arrival home, she pressed for the details. Tell me about your trip.
Mary understood Jacks missing Russian concerns and shared his anxiety. Not good, she
said, but were in no immediate danger.
His brow wrinkled. Youre right, lets finish our business. We need to send the Arabic file to
Cooper.
With a deep breath inhaled, she delivered the bad news. He hasnt replied to the message I
sent.
Not like him, said Jack. He always answers within two hours. His thoughts drifted to the
dark side. God, I hope hes okay.
Ive had the same concern, said Mary.
He paced to make sense of his scattered thoughts. After several minutes, he rejoined Mary on
the sofa to review their situation.
Coopers blind meet turned our world upside down. Romys intel triggered a chain of
horrible events we cant understand until we access the embedded text.
Levs people are hard at work on that arent they?
Jack agreed and explained the access difficulty. He considered the Agencys techies the
worlds best and wanted them to work on it if at all possible.

Unsure of Coopers status, Jack opted to send the alternate ID code.

WinoWhat is your favorite wine variety?Resurrected

CHAPTER 20
CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
Bailey called Roberta to ask for background data on Coopers contract agents. Reluctant at first, he
convinced her he needed the data to find the killer and assured her of his commitment to secrecy.
He understood her apprehension. The Agencys new guidelines forbade contract agents, and she
did not want to cast a bad light on Cooper.
Stellas voice crackled on the intercom, Roberta to see you.
Send her back.
Her red, swollen eyes revealed a long, tearful night, and set a sad tone for their meeting.
Thank you for your help Roberta. He pulled four sheets of paper from the large envelope.
Each page applied to a single agent and included his codename, length of service, and the
surreptitious money trail to avoid detection.
Call me if you need anything, said Bailey as he escorted Roberta to his office door.
He ignored the thin man with dark, curly hair and frameless glasses in the waiting area until
Roberta left. When the door closed, he turned to him. The laptop he held injected a feeling of
impending success. He led him to the office and closed the door.
Tell me were in Herman.
I knew of the importance to you and worked all night. I gained access a half-hour ago.
Thanks for the effort, he said, why so long?
Cooper didnt use the Agencys software. I broke in with the newest Army Intelligence
encryption program.
Bailey cocked his head, confused. How in the hell did he acquire it?
I have no idea.
Im not going to ask how you got your hands on the Army software, said Bailey. Good job
bud.
A cryptic smile filled Hermans face.
With the access to Coopers laptop verified, he released Herman and asked Stella to call the
trainee to the office.
Bailey opened the e-mail and clicked through the pages of received messages, all but one from
the same contact, Resurrected. He checked the four names given him by Roberta and found no
match. Why did Cooper dedicate this laptop to a single contact? He needed to connect with
Resurrected to understandnot an easy prospect.
Confused, he sucked in a deep breath to force oxygen to his brain. His conversation with
Herman came to mind. The encryption belonged to Army Intelligence. He spot-checked the e-mails
and found only routine intel, nothing of interest to the military. His frustration swelled.
The unique message from Recce requested a meeting to transfer intel and gave a phone
number for contact if interested. The method fit no groups protocol in the spy community. He was
an outsider.
Bailey recognized the Viennese international area code.
Volker Anwalt, the female voice answered in German. Wie was darf es sein?
Id like to speak with Recce please.

Please hold, I will see if he is available, she replied in excellent English.

Bailey had a vague familiarity with the peoples advocate group. The Agency never had
contact with them; they did not fit the guidelinesat least not officially.
I am sorry sir, he desires no further contact with you, she politely said and closed the call.
The Recce scenario was a disjointed mess. Bailey massaged his temples in a vain attempt to
ward off the impending headache. Stellas voice blared on the intercom.
May I come in Mr. Howorth?
Please do, I need a break from this crap.
His admin was a high-fashion model clonetall and lean, with high cheekbones and big
brown eyes. The overhead lighting reflected the sheen of her long, swaying auburn hair as she
crossed to the desk.
Wheres our trainee? asked Bailey.
No one in the secretarial pool noticed him at the desk we set up. I called security for a check,
and he hasnt entered the building today.
Did you call him?
I tried to get his number from Roberta and reached her voice box.
With his waned interest in the trainee, he did not want to pressure Roberta. Get me Jerrys
extension number in HR.
Stella handed him a yellow post-it note.
His face broke into a wide grin when he read the four-digit number. I should have known,
he said. Ill let you know what I find out.
Human Resources, this is Jerry.
Hello Jerry, Bailey here.
Hey man, been awhile since we talked. How are you?
Ive had better days.
The Cooper thing?
Yes, said Bailey, once again amazed at the efficiency of the water-cooler rumor-mill.
What can I do to help, said Jerry.
I need the phone number for a trainee, Daniel Hunter.
Give me a second and Ill pull up his fileno problem, we have a cell numberlet me
check the file notesyoure gonna like this, said Jerry with sarcasm. Robbins assigned him to
Cooper for training.
The Director?
It gets better. He did so at the Presidents request.
Unbelievable, said Bailey. Reynolds involvement with the trainee forced renewed interest.
Can you send me his file photo and all contact information?
Check your e-mail in five minutes.
Thanks a million Jerry, he said. Will you do me a favor?
Name it, he said.
Keep this under wraps.
Not a problem.
Bailey digested Jerrys data and decided to overreact to cover his ass with the Director and the
President. He asked Stella to come in the office.
In a couple of minutes, well receive an e-mail from HR with Hunters contact info. Make
one attempt to call him. If he doesnt answer or refuses to come in, set up a round-the-clock

surveillance team with a high-priority protocol. Make copies of his file photo and contact sheet for
the crew and a set for me.
Bewildered, Stella asked, What changed?
The less you know, the better, said Bailey.
She understood and left to complete the instructions. Within five minutes, she delivered
Baileys copies.
With the trainee matter attended to, he returned to complete the inspection of the e-mails in
Coopers laptop. He continued from the Recce message, and started with the oldest of the four to
maintain a date received timeline.
The first was a routine response from Resurrected to confirm the blind meet. The second,
however, piqued Baileys interest. The red flag designation, the deaths, and the Arabic language
indicated in the original message elevated the intel to a high level. Excited, he opened the
attachment and read the English translation of the Jihadist rhetoric.
In anticipation, he clicked on the next-to-last e-mailshort and powerful. The original
message contained embedded text, and Resurrected would send it in a few days for inspection. The
expected original Arabic message in the final e-mail would go to the tech boys to access the
embedded text. Bailey was in business.
He locked his eyes on the screen in frustration. The monitor showed an identification request
from a spooked Resurrected. Without the verification code, Bailey had no way to respond.
His mind swirled. With the intels potential too important to ignore, he needed to try
something. In desperation, Bailey drafted a message designed to draw a response and not drive
Resurrected away. Filled with uncertainty, he clicked the send button.

CHAPTER 21
Varenna, Italy
The Villa
Jack sipped coffee and stared out the op-centers window at the overcast sky and cold drizzle. Mary
joined him and wrapped her arm around his waist. With his arm on her shoulder, he pulled her
close to share the dismal view.
Mary tilted her head. Did we hear from Cooper?
Not a word, he said. I checked while the coffee brewed.
They tightened their grips in silence and after several minutes, Jack relaxed his bear hug. I
need to call Lev.
Good morning Jack, how are you guys?
Weve been better.
I know what you mean. Were at a standstill too. Uri grinds away sixteen hours a day on the
embedded text access code with no results.
We can try something new, said Jack.
Levs voice brimmed with excitement, Lay it on me.
Im convinced The Judges contact, Ursa, is a small Russian gang patterned after the
Mafias old Murder Incorporated in the States.
Ive never heard of Jihadists in cahoots with the Russians.
Me either, so we need to verify or discount my theory.
What do you propose?
Ill give you the gang leaders PDA for Uri to work his magic on.
Im sure the language is Russian, so Ill have to send the PDA to Haifa for a realistic shot at
access.
Discouraged with the prospect of a delay, Jack sank in his chair. How long for the
transport?
Im flying to Haifa tomorrow for an update meeting. If we hook up before I leave, our
Russian techie will begin work on my arrival.
Levs schedule revived Jacks spirits. Hell, well drive over today. Were waiting for intel, so
expect a late arrival.
Bullshit, said Lev. Ill route my flight through Milan. Meet me at the executive terminal at
noon, and youll save a ton of driving.
Well be there.
With the call closed, Mary asked, Where are we going?
To meet Lev at the Milan airport.
Id love to get out of the house, but I need to stay and man the op-center?
Not a chance, he said. I wont let you out of my sight until we resolve the sixth Russian
issue.
Mary nodded. Her face relaxed.
With the next hour spent in relative quiet, each clock tick increased concern for Coopers wellbeing. Their heads snapped in unison to Marys monitor when the computer signaled a received email. Their built-up tension eased as she opened Winos message.

ResurrectedThis is Bailey Howorth. As Wino cannot contact

you, I am in the hope we can work together to complete the Project
Unity intel. Will you send me the Arabic version of the message? I
assure you it will not go beyond my desk. Are you military? Please
contact me and let me know your position.
They sat stunned, eyes frozen on the screen. Marys shoulder-length black hair flared wide
when she spun her head toward Jack.
What in the hell does this mean?
I cant be sure, he said. My best guess, the Agency uncovered Coopers field agent
network and placed him in custody.
Do we respond to Baileys e-mail?
Theres no way to verify he sent the message. Bailey is Coopers immediate supervisor. Hell,
they might be cellmates. I wouldnt put it past the Agencys investigators to send the e-mail to flush
us out.
Mary forced out a deep sigh. Where does this leave us?
At the end of a long, dark, blind-alley. We need a new direction.
With fresh coffee, Jack again peered through the op-centers window at the miserable weather,
which matched his mood. His mind shuffled through numerous scenarios and all led to the same
conclusion. They needed to know Coopers status, which was a problemthe answers had to
come from Langley. After several minutes in search of a solution, a name surfaced.
Mary snapped erect when Jack spun to face her with an optimistic, We need John Colters
number from the PDA.
The name stopped her cold. Do you mean John Bull Colter, the former Agency Director?
One and the same, he confirmed.
How do you know him?
Cooper introduced us on the Carlos mission.
And you didnt tell me?
I promised no disclosure at the time, he said. Im not sure it matters now. I guess well find
out.
How can he help?
I hope his contacts in Langley can give him an update on Cooper.
She nodded and handed him the sat-phone with the number keyed in.
Good morning, this is John.
John, my name is Jack. A mutual friend introduced us at your house a few months ago.
Sure, I remember, he said. How can I help you?
Contact with our friend is compromised and we need to meet.
Whats your schedule?
If tomorrow works for you, Ill call with the eta.
Hell Jack, if you recall, Im retired. Any day fits my agenda.
A final hurdle remainedMarys presence on the visit. He explained the risk she faced if he
left her at home and assured John she represented no security breach for him. He held his breath
through a long gut-wrenching pause.
Ill take you at your word Jack.

He thanked John for understanding, closed the call, and locked eyes with Mary. You ready
for a road trip to Marseilles?
You bet I am, she smiled. How long is the drive?
Eight or nine hours, he said. We need to see if Lev can bump his schedule to buy us time.
Whats up Jack?
We need to drive to Marseilles tomorrow. Any chance we can meet earlier in Milan.
Let me check. He put Jack on hold for a moment. Im afraid not. The scheduled aircraft
maintenance forces us to stick to our original schedule. Let me make a suggestion. Ill reroute our
flight, which will put you in Marseilles at one-thirty.
Youve got a deal.
He called with the itinerary update.
John insisted he meet them at the airport in the red Jaguar, a car familiar to Jack.

CHAPTER 22
Marseilles, France
The white twin-engine Gulfstream G500 corporate jet made its final descent into Marseilles. Johns
candy-apple red Jaguar shined like a beacon in the Executive Terminals parking lot.
Leva big man with thin blonde hair, blue eyes, and chiseled featuresducked his head to
stand in the planes cabin. The petite Mary all but disappeared with his arms wrapped around her.
You make sure Jack doesnt do anything stupid, he said when his hug eased.
She smiled and flashed her electric-blue eyes. Ill do my best.
The odor of jet fuel and the high-pitched whine of the idling jet engines attacked their senses
when the attendant opened the exit door.
Thanks for the ride, said Jack. Their beefy hands met.
Anytime, said Lev. Ill update you on our progress with the Russian PDA.
A tan, trim couple in their mid-sixties greeted them in the small executive terminal. Jack shook
Johns hand, hugged Katie, and introduced Mary.
The man with mixed grey/black hair and attentive brown eyes extended his hand to Mary.
Im pleased to meet you.
The pleasure is all mine.
He relaxed his grip and spun left to the well kempt woman beside him. This is Katie.
Mary faced the older woman with soft hazel eyes and styled blonde hair. Nice to meet
someone my size, she said with a large grin.
I know what you mean, said Katie. A warm smile exposed her brilliant-white teeth.
Lets get the hell on the road, bellowed John.
He twisted the Jaguar through the foothills for twenty minutes before he turned onto the stone
driveway of a two-story yellow house with white-trimmed windows and a red tile roof.
Well get the bags later, said John and led them on a path alongside the villa to a stone patio
with a panoramic view of the Mediterranean Sea below.
Mary admired the ocean view. This is fabulous Katie.
Thank you, she said. We looked at several similar properties in the area, and decided on
this one because of the view.
Jack enjoyed the idle conversation at the round patio-table, but after twenty-minutes, his
anxiety peaked. John, for whatever reason, wanted him to initiate the Cooper discussion. He
accommodated him.
Thank you John for agreeing to the meeting.
You need to thank Cooper.
Jack tilted his head, confused. I dont understand.
He gave me a complete rundown of his relationship with you guys. I felt like I already knew
Mary when you called, which is why I agreed to include her.
Jack shook his head in disbelief. He told me we needed to keep our relationship in the
strictest confidence.
He decided a credible third party needed the info in case something happened to him,
someone unconnected to the Agency.
Jack studied the concept and agreed with the logic. Im sure glad he selected you John. Have
you heard anything?

I wanted your intel before I contacted my source in Langley.

Well hell, lets get started, said Jack. I need my laptop.
John tossed him the Jaguar key. Meet us in the office. The front door is unlocked.
While the laptop warmed up, Jack updated him with the mission details. He inserted the flash
drive to show him the e-mail traffic and intercepted messages.
Nasty potential, said John. He keyed in a message to his Langley contact. Lets see what
we can find out.
They waited an eternal ten minutes for the source to respond. Johns face turned ashen-grey,
bad news. He slammed an open palm on the desktop. Damn, he bellowed. Cooper is dead.
A stunned silence filled the room. Mary and Katie dabbed at teary eyes.
Jack labored to gain composure. What the hell happened?
A car bomb in his Lexus in the Congressional Country Clubs parking lot, said John.
With no desire for more details, the girls left the office.
Jacks mind spun to make sense of what he heard. Why Cooper? he wondered aloud.
Must relate to the mission you stumbled into.
Makes sense, said Jack.
John retrieved a Waterford crystal decanter and two matching glasses from a wall cabinet. He
poured scotches and raised his glass in salute, To Cooper.
Jack followed suit, A great guy.
They slugged their drinks and John poured refills.
With a sip taken, Jack set his glass on the desk. Yesterday I decided our best course of action
was to send my intel to Bailey, or whoever e-mailed me, and walk away. With no way to trace my
involvement, Mary and I could return to a sane life. One thing kept me from pulling the trigger,
Coopers status. What we learned today eliminated the option.
They touched glasses to salute Jacks decision. Whats next? asked John.
No choice, I need to go through whoever sent me the last e-mail.
My source says Baileys in charge of the investigation into Coopers death. I believe he sent
the message.
Good to know. Whats your opinion of him?
Two weeks after President Reynolds took office, he requested my presence at 1600. He
apprised me of his intention to fulfill his campaign promise to create a kinder, gentler CIA with the
cancellation of all covert activity. My blood pressure skyrocketed and led to a heated discussion,
which became a mutual agreement for me to resign. I did convince him our casualty count would
spike with the removal of our agents in the Middle East war zones.
Not a pretty picture for his presidency, injected Jack.
Correct, said John, so he asked me to restructure their involvement in a way not to be
traced to the Agency. He gave me sixty days for implementation. I couldnt refuse.
If your plan surfaces, hell lay the blame on your doorstep and disavow all knowledge. What
a prick.
Hes a politician Jack, and he wants what all politicians wantre-election.
Not at the risk of our national security, said Jack. How does Bailey fit into the scenario?
Bailey was the Agencys rising star, and he accepted the covert assignment. He created the
Middle East Contractors Associationaka MECA. Their mission statement is to advise and
provide assistance to the host countries to rebuild their infrastructures. Their real agenda, of course,
is to employ our agents to continue their work in the war zones. The stealthy audit trail Bailey

structured to disguise the payroll was brilliant. At the time, his thinking was in line with ours.
However, with no contact in two years, I dont know if he has adjusted to the Agencys new
policies. You need to tread lightly until you make an assessment.
Jack trusted Johns evaluation of Bailey and lifted his glass in thanks. He needed to make
sense of the bits and pieces of data.
Coopers death is connected to the Jihadist mission. How long after I sent the last e-mail was
he murdered?
The same day, said John.
Damn quick reaction, said Jack. He screwed his face into deep thought and concluded,
Our killer is local.
I believe youll learn his identity when you understand their mission purpose.
Yeah, and I need to be on site when it happens.
Be cautious, America has a different view of retribution than the rest of the world.
He nodded thanks to John and made a mental note to send a message to Bailey on the trip
home to keep him on the hook.
On the patio, Jack wrapped his arms around Mary and updated her on his plan. She lifted her
head and exposed her red, puffy eyes. You get the bastard who killed our friend.

CHAPTER 23
CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
Ill keep you updated Morgan, said Bailey and eased the handset onto its cradle. The Director
called for a status on the investigation of Coopers murder, and the nonexistent progress pushed
their frustration levels to a new high.
Coopers death consumed his time and, as a result, other critical job functions suffered with a
steep price to pay for continued neglect. He pressed the intercom button.
Stella, please go through my IN basket and determine what needs my attention today.
The top two files are priorities.
Youre a gem Stella.
With the critical files processed, he turned his attention to the Cooper investigations details.
The agent assigned to assist the local police in their crime scene assessment called earlier to
report no new developments.
He checked the dedicated laptop for a response from Resurrected with a negative result.
In the earlier conversation, Director Morgan Robbins stressed the importance of intel to
determine the activity and/or whereabouts of Daniel Hunter. Robbins assigned Hunter to Cooper at
the Presidents request, and had no desire for a follow-up conversation with nothing new to report.
With the big eyes on the Hunter status, Bailey gave him the required diligence.
He paced the floor and reviewed the steps taken to locate him. An hour prior, the surveillance
team at Hunters apartment reported no sign of him. The investigative sector tracked down every
listed address and contact available with no results. A field team monitored the deaths reported by
every police department within a fifty-mile radius with all negative confirmations.
The results supported one conclusion, Hunter disappeared with intent.
Coffee sloshed from his cup when he snapped to a signal from the laptop. His body tingled as
he rushed to the desk.

BaileyI will contact you when I acquire applicable intel. Be

patient.Resurrected
Baileys brain kicked into analysis mode. Disappointed with the absence of answers to his
questions, one fact pleased himResurrected made contact. The prospect for future
communication more than made up for the lack of intel in the message.

CHAPTER 24
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
General Richard Sholtz pored through the previous days high priority reports and generated action
notes in response. The intercom broke his concentration.
Cole Andrews is on line one for you.
He thanked Irene and hesitated for a long moment to irritate the caller. What can I do for you
Mister Andrews?
Have you acquired additional intel on the Project Unity problem?
Sholtz cocked his head, bewildered. I dont understand Cole, you considered Project Unity
a non-issue when I brought the intel to your office. Whats changed since yesterday to elevate the
status?
Not a thing General. Spare time prompted me to update my open items.
Disgusted with the suggestion he would not do his job, Sholtz fired back a stern reply, If I
hear anything new, youll be the first to know.
Most appreciated General, said Cole with a hint of sarcasm.
I assume you will extend me the same courtesy, he responded in kind.
Of course I will General. Sarcasm oozed from the phone.
Sholtzs anger elevated. With the call closed, he slammed the handset in its cradle. Cole had
the Presidents ear, and he needed to cover his ass. He called Andy Caldwell to the office.
Andys bright-blue eyes and wavy sun-streaked hair reminded Sholtz of a California surfer
until their first item of business. Andy was the Generals best ever aide-de-camp.
Take a seat Andy.
He settled in the guest chair. How can I help you Sir?
A couple of items, he said. Tell our man in Vienna to contact his man in Abwehr for new
intel on Project Unity.
Sholtz waited for Andy to finish his note.
This is the most critical. Create a detailed activity log for Project Unity. Backdate the log to
include the initial intel received, my meeting with Cole in his office, and his contact with me today.
Ill help you fill in the details when youre ready. Well need to work together on this.
Sounds like Cole Andrews raised his ugly head today.
Most perceptive Andy, said Sholtz. He smiled. You bucking for my job?
Oh, no Sir, he said. Treasury cant print enough money to make me want to sit at your
desk.
He laughed. Youre a wise man Andy. Lets get to work.
The years of covert fieldwork refused to let him ignore the feeling deep in his gut. Project
Unity will not go away and will be an issue.

CHAPTER 25
Varenna, Italy
The Villa
Jack and Mary settled into their op-center after an uneventful trip home from Marseilles. With his
raw emotions tempered by time, Jack developed an action-plan.
We need to get you to a secure location.
But the op-center needs
I dont care about the op-center. We cant take the chance the Russian hoods will discover
our location.
She nodded. What do you consider secure?
Ill call Art to see where he and Mom are hanging out.
An initial sense of relief calmed Marys concerns. She prayed his parents were not in some
obscure corner of the world.
Jackie my boy, good to hear from you, said Art.
Glad to hear your voice too.
Why did you call the secure line instead of the home number?
Im never sure of your location, he said. Can Mary stay with you while I handle some
business in the States?
Hell yes, shes always welcome. When can we expect her?
My guess, three or four days, he said. Ill call you with the firm itinerary.
Tell her we love her and cant wait to see her.
He gave Mary a thumb up. Will do Art, and thank you.
Thank God! she exclaimed. I envisioned staring at the walls of a cheap, out-of-the-way
motel for who knows how long.
Hell, he laughed, youll spend your days at the stores with mom.
She showed both thumbs up and flashed a wide grin.
With Marys safety issue resolved, Jack pressed the speed dial button for Brian Anderson,
head of the covert ops sector for the DEAs Miami division.
Good to hear from you Jack, answered Brian. How are you guys?
Been better, he said.
Whats up?
A car bomb killed Cooper a few days ago in Maryland.
The unexpected reply caught Brian off guard and forced a split-second hesitation. How
can I help?
Im going there to see what I can uncover, and I want Mary out of harms way at my folks in
California. For the sake of maximum security, I need our trail to dead-end before we arrive in the
States. The rogue mission in Grand Cayman last year came to mind.
Shouldnt be a problem, said Brian. Ill contact Neville for verification and call you with
his answer.
Comfortable with the Grand Cayman scenario, Jack directed his attention to other trip details.
We need alias passports.
Mary accessed the PDA and entered Gertas number to the sat phone. A recorded message in

German delivered bad news.

Her number is disconnected.
Damn, I hope shes okay, he said. Reality set in. We need a forger. He called Lev.
Hey Jack, whats up?
Weve lost our forger.
What do you need?
Two alias passports, in a hurry, said Jack.
No problem, said Lev. I use a guy in Munich for emergencies. He does beautiful work.
Whats your schedule Lev?
My return flight tomorrow puts me at our normal meeting place at three oclock.
Well see you there.
Brian called with the anticipated green light from Nev. Jack agreed to send Brian their alias names,
passport photos, and flight information ASAP.
Jack felt in control for the first time since this mess started. They had a direction.
He poured scotches to celebrate their minor victory.

CHAPTER 26
Munich, Germany
Jack and Mary entered the Hofbraukeller beer hall and allowed a moment for their eyes to adjust
from the bright sunlight to search for Lev.
Wow, said Mary. This is the biggest beer joint Ive ever seen.
It is huge, agreed Jack with a smile.
The sparsely occupied beer hall delivered a quick, negative search result, and they selected a
round table in the vacant rear section to wait for Lev in privacy.
Sunlight flooded the front area and drew their attention. Both recognized the backlit outline of
the large man.
Lev waved off the server on his way through the bar and wrapped his big body around Mary
when he reached the table. He and Jack locked hands.
Its good to see you guys.
Likewise, said Jack. Thanks for your help.
Not a problem bud, said Lev, but we need to get to my guys place so he can start work on
your stuff.
Whats his timeline? asked Jack.
Hell work through the night for completion tomorrow, said Lev. He grinned. He will, of
course, expect a little extra on the payment.
Ill give him whatever he wants if we get a one day turnaround.
My treat Jack, Haifa upgraded the mission to a Priority One, which gives me a green light
on the expenses.
Well hell, said Jack with a smile. This just gets better. Well follow you.
We have to use your car, said Lev. Ariel met my flight and dropped me here. Hell pick up
your new passports tomorrow and deliver them to the op-center.
Works for us, said Jack as he tossed Lev the Audi key. Ill fill you in on the Marseilles trip
on the drive.
Lev eased the Audi to a stop at the broad stoop of Metsadas European op-center, a large
gingerbread-style house with a heavy, castle-like entry door. He directed his man to transfer their
bags to the house and fuel the car.
I need an activity update, said Lev. Grab a bottle of scotch and three glasses from the bar.
Ill join you outside.
Mary moved to the terrace while Jack used the quiet time to gather the pertinent data for Brian.
He booked the Milan to Grand Cayman flight and entered the alias itinerary for Harold and
Ethyl McPherson to the laptop. With the new passport photos attached, Jack sent the e-mail to
Brian and joined Mary.
With his large body wrapped around her to combat nightfalls chill, they relished the sparkling
view of Lake Constance in the waning sunlight, surrounded by the soft aroma from the pine forest.
Sunset and the increased cold forced them inside where Lev soon joined them at the copper
topped bar.
Sorry I took so long.
No problem, said Jack. How was your update?
Lev sipped his scotch. All eyes in Haifa are on Project Unity. Whats your itinerary?

We have a night flight from Milan tomorrow, he said. I should be in position in three
days.

CHAPTER 27
Vienna, Austria
Erich Fagen grimaced when he checked the caller ID on his sat phone. His eyes locked on the
hotline code from NSA headquarters in Fort Meade, the drop everything you are doing hotline
code. He checked his PDA calendar for the daily password.
This is Strawberry, he answered.
Good morning Erich, Andy here.
He dropped his head. An action request from the Director knotted his shoulders.
What can I do for you Andy?
He sensed the tension in Erichs voice. Relax man; I just need you to check with your
Abwehr contact for additional intel on Project Unity.
He exhaled in relief. Ill take care of it today.
Update me with the status, said Andy and closed the call.
Erich pressed the speed dial button for Jger Salzeber.
Hello my friend, he answered. Whats up?
A request from the top of the food chain for new data on Project Unity, said Erich.
When the voice bellows from the mountaintop, you must respond, laughed Jger. Ill find
something for you to give them. Our usual place in an hour?
My treat, said Erich.
They met at the Zwei Hunde, an off-the-beaten-path neighborhood bratskeller. The warm, sunny
day invited Erich and Jger to enjoy the rear patio for their meeting. The early time, an hour before
the lunch crowd arrived, gave them needed privacy.
Erich sipped his beer and set the stein on the table. Any luck?
I hope so, or youll make me pay for lunch, said Jger with a laugh. The folders small size
discouraged me at first, but I found two photographs added after we gave you the original intel.
They retrieved them from the Russian gangsters cell phones. I showed them around the office and
received identification on one, a contact of Sigmunds, our man who recently died in a freak
accident. We consider him a target, so I did not include his picture. We believe the unknown man is
either a gang member or a contact.
Erich paused, lips pursed. Not muchbut might pique their interest.
Good, he said, then grinned and handed Erich a flash drive. The food tastes better when
you buy.
In his home office, Erich composed and copied a cover letter to the flash drive. He arranged for a
State Department diplomatic courier to transport the intel to NSA headquarters.

CHAPTER 28
Grand Cayman Island
The average size man with a wiry physique waited outside customs in the Owen Roberts
International airport. Neville Cook wore classic island-wear, more neat than casual.
He greeted Jack and Mary with a crisp British accent. Welcome to Grand Cayman.
Good to see you again Nev, said Jack. He introduced Mary and half expected a salute and a
sharp heel click when Nev snapped rigid to face her.
I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.
Likewise Nev, thank you for your assistance, she said with a warm smile.
It is indeed my pleasure Mary. Shall we get a move on?
A local police officer in a khaki Bermuda-shorts uniform trained a watchful eye on them as
they exited the terminal. Nevs white Land Rover waited curbside beneath the large No Parking
sign. He gave the officer a thank you salute and slid behind the steering wheel.
Brian said you needed your travel trail to end, so you will stay in the same dignitary condo as
your previous visit with no hotel records to track. For all practical purposes, you no longer exist.
Thanks for your help, said Jack. I doubt we need the vanishing act, but better safe than
sorry.
Does this relate to Carlos?
Not at all, said Jack.
Mary scanned the blue ocean view through the large living room window and caressed the glove
leather furniture. I now understand how rough the Carlos mission was for you and Brian, she
said with a playful, sarcastic smile.
He laughed. It was a bitch, but somebody had to do it.
Nev interrupted their embrace. I hate to deliver you and leave, but duty calls. I will return in
two hours and we can go out for a sumptuous island dinner. If you desire to sightsee, the
condominium key is next to the Bombay on the kitchen counter. The tonic is in the fridge.
Jack pulled Mary close after Nev left. Care for a drink?
Her face twisted into a grimace. Ill pass on the gin.
Were in agreement. Can I take you out for a beer?
At last, she said, an offer I cant refuse.
White, puffy clouds dotted the bright blue sky on their casual, touristy stroll. They windowshopped and purchased trinkets from small booths on their three-block journey. Jack steered her
into the blue and green Barracuda caf where they secured a window table and ordered two of the
local beers.
This isnt your first visit to the Barracuda is it?
We sat at this table and watched the Carlos mission come to a close. He stayed at the Galleon
Inn across the street, and the cartels men snatched him from their sidewalk. It was over in
seconds.
The large window framed the rust and brown hotel. A ringside seat, she said.
He nodded and checked the time. We need to go. Well buy a bottle of scotch on the return
trip.
He poured drinks and settled next to Mary on the leather sofa. The outside shadows lengthened as

the setting sun sank into the Caribbean.

Jack forced all thoughts of the mission ahead from his mind to enjoy their last evening together
for an indeterminate length of time.

CHAPTER 29
Flight to Miami
Nev saluted the khaki-clothed guard who waved them through the airports employee gate.
The odor of jet fuel greeted them as they pulled into the hangar and stopped alongside the
DEAs Learjet.
Brian exited the plane to greet them. Good to see you guys.
We didnt expect a personal escort, said Jack.
With no time to visit when we land in Miami, I decided to make the trip.
Mary smiled. Were happy you joined us.
At cruising altitude, Brian returned from the galley with three mugs of coffee and settled in the
leather seat across the aisle from Jack.
Because of the time constraints when we arrive in Miami, I need to brief you on your travel
plans.
Mary joined the conversation. Repositioned in the aisle, she placed her hands on the seat
backs for stability. Im all ears.
The Lear will take you to San Diego Mary. Midpoint in the trip, the pilot will give you an
arrival time for Jacks folks. Use the bulkhead phone to update them.
She nodded.
Brian handed each a small envelope with their name written on the outside. A drivers license
and Visa card in your alias name inside.
Marys bright, blue eyes sparkled and a playful smile showed on her face. Shop til you
drop, she said with a laugh.
Dont get carried away, I have to account for the card usage, he said. By all means though,
use them if you need to rent a car or a room.
I apologize, she said, just kidding.
His face relaxed. The furrowed brow smoothed. Apology accepted, he said with a wide
grin.
Jack, youre booked on a commercial flight to Dulles forty-minutes after we arrive in Miami.
Ill take you to the airport.
Jack nodded, pleased with Brians itinerary. Perfect, Ill rent a car and find a place to stay on
arrival. Ill begin my mission tomorrow.
You wont need a car, said Brian. Our mechanic went through your Jeep with a fine tooth
comb, new plates and a registration in your alias name.
I dont understand, said Jack. With my Jeep in Miami and me up north, how will that
work?
Do you remember Harry and George?
Sure, we debriefed them on the Carlos Panama mess.
They drove the Jeep to Virginia and will meet you at Dulles. When you take possession,
theyll catch a return flight to Miami.
I owe you, said Jack.
Brian smiled and blurted an afterthought, Oh, by the way, I put a goodie-bag in the Jeep for
you.
Jack smiled and settled in the comfortable leather seat, thankful for Brians help.

The Lear began its gradual descent to Miami.

CHAPTER 30
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
Andy Caldwell knocked on the open door to General Sholtzs office and entered in response to his
hand signal.
Whatcha you got Andy?
Additional Project Unity intel we requested from our man in Vienna.
Wow, didnt take long.
Sholtz inserted the flash drive from Andy into his computer and opened the data file.

The enclosed photo was acquired from a Russian gangsters cell

phone by Abwehr after they took out their group. The man is
unknown. He could be a gangster or a contact. I will stay on this for
additional intel.
How in the hell did Abwehr connect a Russian gang to Jihadists?
I dont know Sir, he said, doesnt compute.
Sholtz opened the .jpeg file and studied the photo. Run this through our face recognition
program.
Already in process Sir, theyll call me when complete.
Sholtz smiled. Why am I not surprised?
Ill update you with the search result.
Stay put, said Sholtz. I need to inform Andrews. Ill put him on speakerphone so you can
take notes for our activity log.
To what do I owe the pleasure, answered Cole.
We asked Abwehr for new intel related to Project Unity and they sent a photo of an
unidentified man.
You sound doubtful.
The picture came from the cell phone of a Russian gangster.
Thats crazy, blurted Cole.
I agree, but we cant afford to ignore the intel until we know otherwise. For now, we need to
assume theyre correct.
Cole paused. As long as were analyzing by assumption, is there a chance the man in the
photo relocated to a gang in our area?
Sholtz shook his head at the off-the-wall question. We have no support intel, but anythings
possible.
Send me the photo.
As soon as the face recognition search is complete.
Send me the picture now, blared Cole. Give me the result later.
Ill courier a flash drive to you within the hour. Sholtz closed the call. Hes an idiot.
Andy rose from the chair, a grin on his face. Ill send him the photo Sir.
An hour later, Andy poked his head in the office. A negative result on the search, he said

and left after a wave of acknowledgement from the General.

When Sholtz took over the NSAs helm, protocol required attendance at an introductory
luncheon with the other intelligence agency heads. With his energy devoted to the new job, he had
considered the luncheon a waste of time, but in need of outside help to identify his mystery man, he
now thought otherwise. He settled on the CIA for his first choice and called Director Morgan
Robbins.
After the customary greetings, Morgan opened the dialogue. What can I do for you
Richard?
We drew a blank on our face recognition program. Can I run the photo through yours?
No problem, he said. Ill assign a priority status.
I want to keep this below the horizon, so Ill courier the flash drive to you.
Ill assign the task to Bailey Howarth, my second in command, for personal attention. I
believe you met him at the introductory luncheon.
Perfect, said Sholtz. Ill give the courier his name for delivery. Thanks for your help.

CHAPTER 31
CIA Headquarters
Langley, Virginia
Director Robbins call for an impromptu meeting put Bailey on edge. He bluffed a ten-minute
need to finish some paperwork delay to analyze the meetings purpose. His neck and shoulders
tightened.
Only one active item made sense, the investigation into Coopers death. Morgan would
discuss a routine update on the phone. What happened to upgrade the priority? Did the President
call for an update? He reviewed the details and rehearsed a response.
I apologize for the short notice Bailey.
No problem Morgan. He squeezed his knotted body into a visitors chair. Whats up?
I want you to run a photo through our face recognition program for General Sholtz. NSAs
database came up empty.
The surprise reason for the unscheduled meeting eased Baileys tension and posed a question
to pique his curiosity. Why doesnt your admin handle this for you?
The General wants his search kept under the radar. Youll receive the source material via
courier today.
Ill call him with the results.
Bailey received the security envelope an hour after his return to the office. He plugged the flash
drive into his computer and opened the file. His eyes locked on the monitor in stunned disbelief at
the image of Jack McDuff.
A click of his mouse turned his simple task into a complex enigma. Thoughts swirled.
Questions surfaced. Why is Jack an NSA priority? What does this mean?
He pressed the intercoms privacy button for uninterrupted time to analyze the development.
His gut feeling to connect the dots between the NSA and Jacks photo consumed his analysis
and drove him to a risky consideration.
Protocol demanded he identify Jack and his Agency background to General Sholtz, but a
downside existed. When he gave NSA the data, his involvement would end.
The alternative gave him a chance to learn about NSAs interest in Jack, but posed a severe
risk to his career.
Bailey debated his options pros and cons for several minutes before he asked Stella to call
General Sholtz.
Damn, didnt take long, answered Sholtz. We received the delivery confirmation just five
minutes ago. What have you got for me?
Sholtzs get down to business attitude made Bailey nervous, yet he continued, Can we meet
to discuss the photo? He held his breath for what seemed an eternity in wait of a response.
Are you available for lunch today?
He exhaled. The weight lifted from his shoulders. Yes I am General.
Do you know OBanions Irish pub?
I know the location.
Meet me at two oclock. Sholtz closed the call.
Bailey leaned back and closed his eyes. The General lived up to his reputation as a man of

action with few words, and a direct approach remained his lone option. His career depended on the
outcome of the meeting and doubt surfaced. Did he make the right choice? The muscles in his
neck and shoulders retightened.

CHAPTER 32
OBanions Irish pub
The large kelly-green letters above the entrance shouted OBanions to attract passers-by to the
typical American sports bar version of an Irish pub.
They met at the introduction luncheon, but it took Bailey a moment to identify the General in
civilian clothes.
He settled on the adjacent barstool. Good afternoon General.
Good to see you again Bailey, said Sholtz. He lowered his voice. Do me a favor and call
me Rick. Im a regular here and nobody knows my job or background.
I understand, said Bailey.
They ordered pints of Guinness Stout and relocated to the empty banquet room for privacy.
Thanks for the meeting Rick. Bailey winced at the protocol breach when he spoke the
nickname.
Sholtz grinned at his discomfort. His face turned stern as he leaned into the table. At first,
your request pissed me off.
The serious conversation began, and Bailey needed to cast aside his insecurities. He made
direct eye contact.
What changed your mind?
His face relaxed with a hint of a smile. Your breach of interagency protocol reeked of a
rookie mistake, but you didnt reach number two in the Agency by being stupid, which led me to a
conclusion. You recognized the man in the photo. Simple logic tells me you possess high-level data
relating to him. I need the intel and his identity.
Baileys problem remained. If he gave in to the General, he would learn nothing. He needed
to play hardball to keep the dialogue alive. How did you acquire the photo?
Sholtz face turned to stone. Jesus Bailey, youve pushed this to the edge.
No choice Rick.
Given the Agencys new milquetoast policies, are you sure you want to get involved?
This man worked as a trusted agent for us for years, he said. Ill take the gamble.
The response mellowed Sholtz. He understood Baileys position and appreciated the loyalty
he showed.
Alright, Ill divulge the source of the photo, he said, but you need to give me the related
intel. With Baileys nod of agreement, he continued, We received the photo from Abwehr in
Vienna. It came from a Russian gangsters cell phone.
Baileys brow furrowed. Makes no sense, you wouldnt be on their notify list for this intel
unless He drifted for a moment. unless this tied into something else.
Youre right Bailey. For some reason, they linked him to recent intel received, an intercepted
e-mail from a Jihadist called The Judge.
The words smacked Bailey in the face like a cast-iron frying pan in the hands of a disgruntled
wife. Unbelievable, he stammered. The Resurrected puzzle took shape, but he needed one
more item for confirmation. What was the nature of the intercepted e-mail?
The usual Jihadist crap, something called Project Unity.
The verification put the final piece in place for Bailey. Jack McDuff was Coopers contact,
Resurrected.

Youve completed the picture for me. The man in your photo is an ex-agent named Jack
McDuff, and hes up to his neck in Project Unity.
Sholtz paused. Whose side is he on?
Jacks on our team and youll need to trust my judgment.
He nodded Anything else?
The original intercepted message is in Arabic and contains not yet accessed embedded text.
Ive requested a digital copy from Jack.
Sholtz sat erect. You need to push him.
Hes not in a trusting mood. If I hit him too hard, hell break contact and well be screwed.
His rigid posture relaxed. Time is our enemy.
I agree, said Bailey. Ill make Jack a priority.
Do you have a secure sat phone?
In my desk, but I need to charge the battery. Dont use it much these days, he said with a
chuckle.
Call me and Ill lock your number in mine. Lets limit our contact to the sat phones.
Bailey nodded.
I have my cross to bear too, said Sholtz. Mine is Cole Andrews.
I havent had the pleasure, but I understand he can be a jerk.
Youre being kind, said Sholtz with a laugh, which reminds me, I need to call him with
a teaser to keep him at bay, just a little white lie.
Bailey felt more at ease now than before the meeting, but edgy with little time to create an
effective approach for Jacks intel.

CHAPTER 33
The White House
Adrenalin pulsed through Cole Andrews when the intercom announced a call from General Sholtz.
He identified the man in the photo. Why else would he call?
Hello General, what have you got for me?
A tidbit from Abwehr, he said. Theyre convinced the mystery man in the photo left
Vienna.
Disappointed with the response, Cole blurted, What the hell good is the intel without a
destination?
No idea, said Sholtz.
Frustrated, he spat, Why do you give me data you dont understand?
You cant have it both ways Cole, said Sholtz. Either I advise you of everything related to
Project Unity when received, or we finish the analysis and forward the intel to you if applicable.
He dropped his head, upset with his spontaneous reaction. Youre right, lets leave the
current policy in effect. He thanked the General and closed the call.
Cole closed his eyes in an attempt to organize the thought fragments ricocheting in his brain.
What did Abwehrs intel mean? Was the mystery man en route to the States? Had he already
arrived? What, if anything, should he do?
One thing was certain. He did not want Project Unity to go public. The news media would
feast on his carcass while the opposition party painted a bleak picture of the defanged CIAs
inability to uncover the Jihadist plot.
The prospect for the Mystery Man to show up and expose Project Unity seemed remote,
but Cole was not a gambler. He pressed the intercom button.
Get me J. B. Bronson.
After the customary greetings with the FBIs Deputy Director, Cole got to the point.
I need a favor J. B.
What can I do for you?
I need a locate and notify set up for a subject.
Okay, give me the details. Lets start with his name.
No clue, said Cole. Ill send you his photo.
Alright, what are your search area parameters?
Ohlets set a fifty mile radius.
Ill send the photo and instructions to every police department within the range, said J.B. If
hes located, my closest field agent will take over the surveillance. What do you want me to do
next?
Call me with the location and the cell phone number of your man. Ill send someone to
replace him. Cole closed the call and e-mailed the photo to J.B.
He stretched and poured fresh coffee to analyze the back end of his plan. The illegal detention
of the Mystery Man placed it dead center in the black-bag category, which left him with two
choices. He preferred to use his own group, an unsanctioned undercover dirty-tricks crew, which
gave him complete control. However, even the remote possibility of Project Unity becoming
public knowledge forced him to eliminate them and left him with one choice.
Zebra Company, created as a Presidential response team, was a small, ultra-secret black ops

Army unit headquartered at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Over time, they grew in number to
respond to additional needs for their skills. The teams welcomed their rotation to Presidential duty
and considered the close-to-home location as quasi-vacation time.
Cole entered the mission details and sent the message to the Zebra Companys field operations
HQ.

CHAPTER 34
Fort Bragg, North Carolina
Zebra Company field operations
Zebra Companys commander, Colonel Victor Matthews, was old school Army, a man of few
words and quick decisions. He supported all the men in his command and earned their utmost
respect in return. To a man, they would follow him off a cliff. He detested the formal protocol of
the new Army and maintained a first name relationship with his team leaders.
He snapped his dark eyes to the creaky door in the outer office. A large, muscular man with a
shaved head entered.
With a tinge of a southern drawl, he bellowed, Cmon back Dawg.
His team leader, dressed in fatigue pants and a snug army-green tee shirt stepped into his
office.
Close the door.
Whats up Vic?
The Colonel slid a print copy of Coles Presidential directive across the metal desk.

VictorThe man in the attached photo is the subject of an FBI

locate and notify search. When found, I need you to detain him until
further notice. Please put the crew on standby?Miner
Dog chuckled. He damn near begged you for the standby status.
I jumped his ass when he put us at ready-alert on his last bogus non-mission, said Vic. I
imagine hes a bit gun-shy.
He should be, said Dog. Why doesnt he use his real name instead of the stupid Miner
tag? We know his identity.
Hes a wanna-be black bagger, with no clue how it works, said Vic as he handed Dog a
flash drive. This contains the e-mail and a photo file. Vic worked his keyboard. Todays access
code is Tiffany.
The U. S. Army purchased the large, rustic, ranch-style house through a dummy Delaware
corporation. They installed a helipad for rapid deployment and activated the op-center for
Presidential missions. Zebra Company tag named it The White Horse.
An alert squad rotated two-man teams to the property for round-the-clock protection. They
monitored the state-of-the-art security system from the guesthouse.
Dog turned the Humvee onto an unmarked blacktop side-road. He pressed the button on a
remote device to activate the heavy-duty steel gate for access to the op-center.
A fatigue-dressed guard waited at the edge of the clearing with his left arm extended, palm
out. His right hand gripped a pistol in the unsnapped holster.
Dog slowed to a stop alongside the guard.
Tiffany, he said.
The guard relaxed and waved access.
He carried his totes to the large master bedroom while the op-centers electronics whirred to
life.
Settled at the computer, Dog sent the standby status to his crew and notified HQ of his

operational status.
With no sense of urgency to set up the mission file until Miner upgraded the status, he tossed
the flash drive on the desk.

CHAPTER 35
Dulles International airport
Chantilly, Virginia
Jack thanked George and Harry for their long drive from Miami to deliver his Jeep Wrangler.
He followed directions from the gift shop clerk to the airports old motel row access road.
Many of the older motels suited his needs, so he threw a mental dart and turned into the Airporter
Inns parking lot.
The requested rear facing room denied visual access from the street, and the empty lot allowed
him to back in the Jeep two paces across the sidewalk from the rooms entry.
With the room perfect for his needs, he overlooked the outdated blue-green dcor and the
obvious maintenance issues. He engaged the under-the-window air conditioner to negate the
rooms musty smell and brought in his totes and laptop.
Jack opened his e-mail to no activity and directed his attention to Brians goodie bag filled
with black ops tools he could not transport on his commercial flight.
He fished out the items of initial interest. With a full magazine clicked into his Sig Sauer and
the silencer attached, he slipped the pistol into a black pouch similar to a fanny-pack. Called a fagbag by most in law enforcement, you wore the fast action gun bag on your midsection for quick
weapon access. The television distracted Jack until Mary called to confirm her safe arrival in San
Diego. His folks sent their love.

CHAPTER 36
Georgetown
At ease from Marys call last night, Jack managed a fair nights sleep on the less than comfortable
bed. The long, hot morning shower and fresh, clean clothes put the final touches on his
revitalization. His anger settled below the surface, available in an instant if needed.
In want of a direction, Jack checked for a reply from Bailey to his stay in contact e-mail, to
no avail. The lack of results clawed at him. To wait for Haifa to access the embedded text did not
agree with his psyche.
His frustration festered and grew over the next hour. With no response from Bailey, his cheap
motel room felt like a jail cell. He needed to escape, but where would he go? What would he do?
A thought surfaced.
Jack searched the Congressional Country Clubs parking complex for Coopers car bomb site. He
veered the Jeep left onto one of the lots spurs and accelerated toward the bright-orange traffic
cones.
A close-up inspection of the melted blacktop and singed oak trees left little doubt in Jacks
mind. The whirr of a golf cart tempered his burgeoning anger.
May I take your clubs sir?
No thank you, no golf today, said Jack. He pointed at the damage and sought verification
for his conclusion. What happened here?
The young mans smile faded. A car bomb killed one of our guests a week ago. I still relive
the scene in my dreams. The Lexus heaved five or six feet above the blacktop engulfed in flames,
then slammed to the ground. He didnt stand a chance.
The eyewitness account made Coopers death more realistic. He needed a change of scenery.
Jack drove to Alfreds Bar and Grill, a Washington institution located on M Street NW in a colorful
tourist section of Georgetown. For the most part, the day crowd consisted of out-of-towners drawn
in by Alfreds reputation. As the evening drew near, however, the bar filled with local politicos
who struck deals and hammered out negotiations over cocktails on a nightly basis.
Jack sipped coffee and picked at his brunch. The visit to Coopers death scene gnawed at him
and curbed his appetite. He needed a distraction. With the money to cover his meal on the table, he
left to explore the gift shops to find a souvenir for Mary.
Pleased with his improved state-of-mind, he sauntered through the tourist stores to maintain his
distraction.
As he stepped onto the sidewalk from the fourth shop visited, a gut feeling raised his hackles.
Jack directed his attention to his surroundings. He feigned window-shopping and searched for
danger in the reflections of the storefront windows. On the third stop, he spotted the tail.
Confused, Jack tried to understand a reason for the tail. He arrived last night under an alias
identification provided by Brian, and he considered Brian and his men above suspicion.
A swirl of thoughts filled his head. Who tagged himhowand why? A concept formed.
His tail identified him from a photo, which pointed to the Russians. They somehow learned of his
trip to DC and sent the photo to the local gangs. His anger explodedtime they learned a lesson. If
they pursue him, they will pay the price.
Two more stops verified the man as a tail and gave Jack time to rein in his anger to a

functioning state. Colters warning from their Marseilles meeting came to mind. Be cautious,
America has a different view of retribution than the rest of the world. With the need to maintain a
low profile, he opted to shed the tail.
Jacks unfamiliarity of the area placed him at a disadvantage, and he needed as foolproof an
escape plan as possible.
He meandered a half block and saw a potential opportunity, a large box-van parked curbside a
short distance away on the opposite side of the street, diesel engine idling. A stout young man, in
khaki shorts and a white tee shirt, stepped to the sidewalk from the third store north of the midblock alleyway. He steered an empty two-wheel dolly to the rear of the truck.
The completed delivery triggered Jacks impromptu plan. He crossed the busy street to a
pawnshops storefront adjacent to the south side of the alleyway. The tail stayed put and feigned
reading a newspaper to avoid detection. Perfect, he thought.
Jack waited for the delivery trucks departure to activate his escape plan. He tuned his ears to
the diesels staccato sound and waited for the change in pitch when the driver revved the engine to
leave.
A full two minutes passed with no change. Why the hell hasnt he left yet? screamed his
thoughts. The elevated sound of male voices reached his ears, and he glanced north to assess the
situation. The driver and another man stood toe-to-toe on the sidewalk in a heated discussion. The
delay put his fortuitous escape plan in jeopardy. To avoid the suspicion of his follower, he would
soon need to move on in search of another opportunity.
Suddenly, the drivers loud, angry screams filled the air. I cant solve your problem. You
need to call the store. Silence prevailed until broken by the sound of the slamming truck door.
Jacks hope returned. The diesel engine roared to life. He readied himself.
The instant the delivery truck blocked the tails view from across the street; Jack stepped
around the corner into the alleyway and broke into a full run. He followed the alley to the right after
some one-hundred feet and stopped cold to stare in disbelief at the dead-end.
Circumstances now dictated the plans conclusion. Jack settled into a shallow building recess
with an adjacent large cardboard box and listened. The sound of cautious footsteps grinding the
alleyways gravel and broken glass raised his alert status. He readied his pistol and eyed the corner
through a small gap between the box and the building. The tail came to view and stopped for a
visual check of the dead-end but showed no weapon, which gave Jack pause. With a couple of
inches and forty or so pounds on the Russian, he saw a way to end this without local police
involvement, which would allow him to maintain a low profile.
Jack sprang from hiding and secured the Russian from behind. He wrapped his arm around his
neck in the old pro-wrestlers sleeper hold and tightened to restrict the blood flow to his brain. Jack
eased his chokehold when the Russians body relaxed and laid the unconscious man next the
building.
The sharp click of a deadbolt echoed through the alley and interrupted Jacks search to
identify the Russian. He covered him with the large cardboard box and turned the corner to avoid
detection. The estimated twenty-minute window for the tail to regain consciousness gave Jack time
to make an exit.

CHAPTER 37
The Airporter Inn
A myriad of thoughts charged through Jacks mind like a herd of wild mustangs. He exercised
every bit of control learned from twenty years of black ops fieldwork to rein in his scattered
thoughts for analysis.
In the alleyway, he had heeded Colters advice and relaxed his chokehold on the Russian for
the sake of a low profile, a decision he now regretted. Seconds short of a final resolution, he feared
the consequences of his non-action.
He needed to lie low and stay out of sight to avoid the Russian gangs certain upgraded search
for him, at least until Haifa accessed the embedded text. Jack faced an internal struggle to maintain
the patience required to wait for a positive result, not his best quality.
Two sips into a fresh Pacifico, Jack checked his caller id and filled with adrenaline.
Tell me Haifa accessed the embedded text Lev.
Theyre working around-the-clock.
Jack recognized his short-lived euphoria was born more from hope than expectation. He
sucked in deep breaths to flush his system and pressed Lev for the calls purpose.
Whatcha got for me?
Four new intercepts from The Judge, two in and two out, said Lev. Appears we have a
new player, someone called Vengador.
Any clue where he fits in this mess?
None at all, said Lev.
Interesting, one more piece to add to our puzzle.
Ill e-mail them to you after theyre processed.
Thanks Lev, said Jack. By the way, I picked up a Russian gangster tail this morning.
Surprised, Lev asked, Are you sure?
Nothing else makes sense. I need to stay out of sight until Haifa breaks the codeor until I
can no longer stand this crappy motel, he chuckled. It fit my needs until the Russians entered the
picture and changed the equation.
I may have a solution for you, said Lev. Ill check and let you know.
The ray of hope from Levs last comment lifted his spirits and restored his mindset to an even
keel. He called Mary.
About time, she said with a chuckle.
Ive been busy. How are you?
A bit concerned with your folks agendas, she said. Your moms in shopper heaven mode,
and I need her to back off a tad to enjoy some relax time on the deck.
Hows Art?
Crazy curious about the mission and I dont know how to answer his questions.
Jack needed to ease Marys pressure.
Dont be afraid to tell mom you need kickback time. Shell understand.
As far as Arts concerned, tell him everything. Just make sure mom doesnt overhear.
They closed the call after a pleasant twenty-minute conversation, and Jack popped open a
Pacifico to wait for Levs e-mail.

CHAPTER 38
In one fluid motion, Jack turned the TV off, tossed the remote on the bed, and clicked open Levs
e-mail.

JackThe attachments are date and time stamped. Call me after you
study them.Lev
He opened the files in their intercept order to establish a timeline.

VengadorWhere are the precious metals?The Judge

JudgeTheres no silver in Chicago.Vengador
VengadorWe need your help with our adjusted plan.The Judge
JudgeI can handle it.Vengador
Jack read the messages, which made little sense, and called Lev.
What do you make of them Jack?
Id say the first two are for ID verification.
We concur since they contain no embedded text, said Lev. The last two however, do.
Jack reread the last two messages. They changed their original plan, but we wont understand
until we access the embedded text.
Were on the same page.
Theres one thing Lev, why didnt you send me the original Arabic messages?
Those are the originals, said Lev. Theyre all in English.
Interesting, said Jack. We need to assume Vengador is a non-Arab outsider, a contractor.
I agree.
Thanks for the update Lev. They dont tell us much now, but Im sure they will when we
crack their code.
I hope so, said Lev. Theres one more item for you. Earlier I mentioned a possible solution
for your motel crisis. I checked and received a green light.
Jack brimmed with anticipation at the thought of escaping the dumpy motel. Fill me in.
Theres a man in the area you can bunk with, said Lev.
He did not believe what he heard. To add more people with knowledge of the mission only
increased the risk.
I dont think so Lev.
I understand your position Jack, but do me a favor and hear me out.
The request from his trusted friend put his initial knee-jerk reaction on hold. He at least owed
him the courtesy to listen.
With one shot to convince Jack, Lev gave him the full pitch.
His name is Marvin Epstein, and hes a registered DC lobbyist for Israel, which is his upfront, legitimate job. However, on occasion he acquires sensitive intel, which he passes on to Haifa.
Theyve already briefed him on Project Unity. He has great contacts in the area, so dont be afraid
to enlist his help. I trust him with my life Jack, or I would never recommend this to you.
Jack scanned the room. His present situation held no promise. He made a decision.
Youve convinced me Lev, set it up.

CHAPTER 39
Vienna, Virginia
A black BMW pulled into the motels rear parking lot. The dark, limo-tinted drivers side window
slid down.
Jack approached with his arm extended. Marvin, Im Jack. Thanks for the help.
My pleasure, he said. You ready?
Jack nodded and climbed in his Jeep.
He formed a preliminary assessment of his host on the twenty-minute drive. The slight-ofbuild man with short, dark curly hair did not look like a field agent, more of a business executive.
With idle chitchat a waste of time, his abrupt manner suited Jack.
They zigzagged through the suburbs to a single-level used-brick house and parked in the rear
detached-garage.
The interiors masculine dcor, shades of brown with no hint of a feminine touch, imparted the
impression Marvin was a bachelor. However, to avoid surprises, Jack needed confirmation. Out of
respect for Lev and Marvins friendship, he opted for a light-hearted approach.
Do you live alone in this big ole house? he asked with a hint of a grin.
Marvin knew the drill. Jack needed the lay-of-the-land before he relaxed and dealt with his
problems. He made it easy for him.
My ex-wife and twelve-year old son live in Israel. The boy spends the summers with me.
The reply put Jack at ease. Marvin understood his needs.
Thank you, said Jack.
Youre welcome, said Marvin with a slight nod. He moved on, Lets get you settled in
your room.
A small bedroom on the way to his quarters caught Jacks eye. A large elemental periodic
chart secured to the wall with pushpins over a small computer desk completed the sparse
furnishings.
This must be your boys room when he visits.
Yes it is, Marvin confirmed.
I assume hes a science buff.
Marvin laughed. He was last summer. Well find out what hes into this year.
Jack smiled and nodded.
With his bags stowed, Jack followed to the nook area of the kitchen and sat at the round, oak
pedestal table. Marvin draped his pinstripe suit coat on a chair back and loosened his red power-tie.
He extracted two Coronas from the fridge and raised them for Jacks approval.
I thought youd never ask.
He gained a level of trust and confidence in Marvin, but needed his background before he
committed to full disclosure. He sipped the ice-cold beer and pressed for the details.
Lev told me youre an Israeli lobbyist, but he fell way short on details.
Marvin expected the request for his background info, but Jacks sudden direct approach
surprised him and put him a bit on edge. A moment of thought gave him an answer. As a black ops
agent, Jack did not ascribe to the politically correct acquisition of intel and fell short in the
patience department.
Two years ago, the Israeli Ambassador called me. They created the Jewish Information

Lobby (JIL) and wanted me for the job. Surprised by the offer, I asked them how they acquired my
name for consideration. My supervisor at the Jewish Protection Agency (JPA) recommended me
for the position. While not suited for their black ops fieldwork, my other attributes and the contacts
I acquired over the year of service at JPA made me a perfect candidate. They sweetened the pot
with this house and the Beemer to seal the deal.
He made a mental note to thank Lev for his recommendation.
I understand Haifa briefed you on Project Unity.
They gave me the name.
Nothing else? said Jack, confused.
No, if I hear the name, Im to report anything I learn.
Jack dropped his head, dismayed. He sat erect. We wont accomplish a damn thing if you
dont understand the threats danger. He updated him with the Project Unity story in complete
detail.
Dumfounded by the lack of intel from Haifa, Marvin leaned back and exhaled in disgust.
If Project Unity lives up to its potential, my son and his mother will be in the direct line of
fire. I am committed to this Jack, and Ill give you whatever help you need.
The first positive result, in an otherwise negative day, infused Jack with hope and the desire to
take control.
Lets find out what my contact said.
He fired up his laptop to an empty inbox. Baileys non-response to Jacks earlier e-mail gave
him pause for concern. Bailey pushed for dialogue from the start and now ignored him, which
made no sense.
He sat back with a blank stare.
Whats the problem?
I e-mailed my local contact this morning, and he hasnt answered, which is not normal, said
Jack. If the embedded text confirms our Project Unity fears, well need him for a response to the
threat.
They sat in silence to consider the situations gravity.
Marvin sat straight. Maybe your message didnt go through.
Damn, said Jack. I didnt consider the possibility.
He messaged Bailey again requesting contact.
Bailey paced his office floor and struggled with his dilemma. If he lets Jack know hes identified
him, he might break down and open a constructive dialogue. On the other hand, if he spooks and
breaks off contact, all is lost. His frustration elevated. Certain of one thing, he needed to respond to
Jack for any chance of success.
Jack stared at Baileys message on the screen. Im glad to hear from you Jack.
Anger roiled to the surface with the shock of the unexpected reply. Jack took several minutes
to suppress his violent response to the surprise message.
He knows my identity.
Which means?
Im not sure, said Jack. One thing for certain, we need to verify his identity or sever contact
with him.
Makes sense, said Marvin.
After a moment of thought, Jack responded.

BaileyDidnt take long, you guys are still damn good at this spy
shit. What caused you to cancel the meeting with me and Cooper at
the end of the Carlos mission?Jack
Well Marvin, well soon know.
He opened the quick reply and read the identification response, Zebra Company.
Jack smiled and gave a thumb up to Marvin to verify the positive result. The balance of the
message contained a phone number for secure contact and assurance their communication would be
confidential.
The smile faded from Jacks face with a low confidence level for the other message points.
He messaged Bailey to expect contact when additional intel became available and closed their
communication.
Well decide on my contacts involvement when we access the embedded text.

CHAPTER 40
La Jolla, California
The stone and glass house perched on the edge of a cliff in the high-dollar La Jolla area of San
Diego. The due west exposure afforded a spectacular, unobstructed Pacific Ocean view.
Mary swung her legs to the side of the chaise lounge and sat upright when Jacks stepfather,
Art, approached. The thickset man in his early seventies with a dark tanned face and snow-white
hair balanced a filled-to-the-brim, oversized stem-glass.
She sipped the Margarita to reduce the contents to a manageable level. Thank you kind sir,
she said with a warm smile.
Well hell, he laughed. Somebody needed to get the party started.
He repeated the routine with his wife Linda, Jacks mother, and filled a glass for himself.
Art raised his drink in salute, Lets make this official, he said. Welcome to our humble
abode Mary.
Thank you for putting me up in my hour of need, she said, with a vision of a cheap motel in
her head.
Our pleasure, said Art. Youre welcome to stay until Jacks work is done, and beyond.
As long as you like, Linda concurred and flashed her bright blue eyes at her husband. Ill
be in the kitchen. We girls need sustenance for our shopping expedition.
Art laughed. Why am I not surprised.
Mary watched the fine-featured, slender womans exit, amazed at how she maintained a
manicured appearance in even the most casual clothing.
With Linda in the kitchen, Mary directed her attention to Art. Jack asked me to brief you on
our situation.
He locked his eyes on Mary in rigid attention.
With the girls shopping, Art used the alone time to consider a course of action. His first option, to
do nothing, did not sit well. A knot tightened his gut with the feel of an undigested pizza and forced
him to discard the choice.
Jacks one-man show put him at risk from multiple directions, and Art did not want to reveal
his identity at this time. He messaged Zebra Company to verify his ability to secure help if Jacks
mission spun out of control.

VictorI know a man working solo in the DC area on high-level

intel. Zebra worked with him before and set up his op-center in
Europe. Will assistance be available for him if needed?Old-timer

CHAPTER 41
The White House
Cole Andrewss intercom announced a call from Mr. Bronson. The quick response from the FBI
excited him. He pressed the blinking button.
Hello JB, whats up?
Ive changed the Locate and Notify status to Priority Five with approved lethal response.
Cole sat stunned. What dire event pushed the Deputy Director to ignore a White House
directive?
Jesus JB, what the hell happened?
The Georgetown police spotted your subject, so I assigned my field agent in the vicinity to
assume the surveillance. We delayed your notification until he settled somewhere.
Whats the problem? said Cole. Give me your agents twenty and Ill activate my team.
I dont have a location, he said. Your target lured my agent to a blind-alley and took him
down to escape.
Cole understood JBs position and needed a controlled response for his plans restoration.
I am sorry about the loss of your man JB, but this is a national security issue.
My agents not dead. Your subject rendered him unconscious with a chokehold and escaped.
He knew just when to release the pressure. Your guy is a pro, and I wont let him run around free
to operate on our streets.
They reached the proverbial fork in the road, and Cole needed to abandon his normal bully
tactics for success with JB.
We need to combine our efforts and create a workable plan JB. The intel suggests our
subjects involvement in an unknown major Jihadist terrorist plot, and we face an imperative to
interrogate him and keep this out of the publics eye.
Coles anxiety level swelled as he waited for JBs response. The handful of seconds seemed
an eternity.
Alright, Ill maintain the current plan for now, he agreed. However, if I even suspect hes
spotted our tail again, Ill activate the Priority Five status.
He accepted the partial victory. I understand JB. Keep me posted.
With his subject deemed an agent and confirmed local, his insecurity elevated. Cole did not
know the missions purpose, and JBs position introduced a critical timing risk factor. He needed
Zebra Company in position for a quick response when the subject resurfaced.
Cole sent the e-mail to Victor.

CHAPTER 42
The White Horse
Near Fort Bragg
Dog completed the number one item on his to do list. With no electronic equipment malfunctions to
report, he directed his attention to the second priority, his food order. He considered the ability to
order top quality food the lone benefit of the assignment and took full advantage. With a typical
three-hour lag time for the Huey to deliver the food order, he gave the list his undivided attention.
The HQ hotline rang. Whats up Vic?
Miner upgraded the mission status to ready-alert.
Didnt take long, said Dog. Glad you called when you did. My food orders ready and I
need to change the quantities.
Vic laughed. Oh yeah, the boys would be thrilled to watch you eat steak while they gag
down the op-centers MREs.
Can you spell mutiny, said Dog.
No question, said Vic. Ill forward Miners e-mail for your e-file and proof of
authorizationOh, Ive sent you a message from Old-Timer. I dont know if its applicable, you
decide.
Ten-four Vic.
He notified the crew of the status change and updated the quantities on the food request. The
timeline put them on the same chopper as the food.
Miners theatrics forced Dog to pull his crew away from their families for, in his opinion, a
bogus mission. His dislike for the arrogant prick festered like jungle rot and neared hatred. He
pushed the negative, non-productive thoughts aside and opened the e-mail from Vic.

VictorFBI has verified subject is local. Upgrade mission status to

ready alert. Exercise caution, man is trained and dangerous.
Miner
Dog copied the message to his mission e-file and opened the second from Old-timer.
With no apparent link to Miners bogus mission, he placed the cursor on delete and hesitated.
Vic wouldnt send this without a gut instinct. He opted to save the message.
He inserted Vics flash drive into the USB port. With Miners initial standby request message
copied to the e-file, he downloaded the attached photo file.
What the hell? exploded in his head. This cant be right.
His eyes locked onto the monitor, a photo of Jack McDuff.
He thought back a year when the crew worked on a mission with Jack in South Padre Island,
Texas. A more loyal patriot did not exist. What the hell game is Miner playing? he wondered.
Old-timers message came to mind and meshed into the new scenario. He and Jack were
somehow connected.
For the first time in his career, Dog ignored protocol and put himself at risk, which burned at
his gut like a bad acid attack. He needed to understand the scenario before he involved Vic.
He entered his only number for Jack and hoped for contact. Jacks voice on the mailbox
greeting eased Dogs concern, and he left a compelling message.

CHAPTER 43
Vienna, Virginia
Jack welcomed Marvins early departure. After a hot shower, he settled at the pedestal table with a
hot mug of coffee and felt almost normal.
He opened the e-mail from Ski.

JackHorst called with great news. The local police found the body
of the missing Russian gangster in an alley the night of the raid,
which is why he never showed at their op-house.
His OKD contact just now connected the dots.
We can relax and stop looking over our shoulders for Russian
gangsters.Ski
The news resolved the major concern for Marys safety and gave Jack great relief. However, it
posed serious questions and begged answers. If a Russian did not tail me in Georgetown, who
did? Why did he follow me? How did he identify me?
His mood changed from relaxed to high-tension. He now dealt with an unknown enemy.
He called Lev to update him with Skis intel.
Hello Jack, whats up?
An update on the Russian gang, he said. They found the sixth gangster dead in an alley the
night of our raid. Their version of Murder Incorporated is out of business.
You must breath easier with them out of the picture.
I do for Marys sake, he said, but yesterday I ditched a tail who I thought Russian, and
now I have no clue.
A new player, said Lev. Keep your eyes open.
Jack noticed a voicemail alert when he closed the call with Lev. The unexpected, terse
message raised an alarm.
This is Dog. Imperative we talk. Call me immediately.
Dog requested a quick response, so Jack obliged.
Jesus Jack, how did you manage to piss off the President?
Dogs question swept his thoughts clean and plunged him into confusion. What in the hell
are you talking about?
The response put Dog in a tenuous position. His desire to understand why The White House
targeted Jack ran smack into a wall of protocol, but his gut-instinct drove him forward.
If this conversation ever sees the light of day, Ill be breaking rocks in Leavenworth for the
next twenty years.
What conversation?
Dog expected Jacks response and trusted him. They both sought the truth. We received a
Presidential Directive to detain you.
Makes no sense, said Jack. Theres no way he knows me.
I hope you have something to give us an answer.
Jack agreed and gave him a rundown on Project Unity. He too hoped for clarity.

Damn serious terrorist potential we cant defend until we understand their objective. Whos at
work on the embedded text?
I cant tell you, said Jack. Youll need to trust me.
Fair enough, said Dog, as long as you keep me updated.
Jack agreed and moved on. What next?
You need to stay out of sight. When they locate you, theyll send me the go command to
detain you. Im out on a limb now, but I cant ignore a direct order from my Commander-in-Chief.
His mind flashed on the unidentified tail in the alleyway. Who is they?
The FBI, said Dog. The same directive applies to them on a locate and notify for you.
Theyve sent every cop in the area your picture and a contact number. You wont last ten minutes
on the street.
Thanks for the alert.
Dog sought an answer for his earlier suspicion. We received an e-mail from our friend Oldtimer. He knows an agent working solo on high-level intel in the DC area. Ring a bell with you?
Jack recognized Dogs fishing expedition and saw no harm in the truthmight prove
beneficial.
Hes my stepfather.
Well, at last something makes sense, said Dog. Ill keep this quiet for now.
They closed the call and Jack eased out a deep sigh. He preferred the Russians on his tail,
which gave him a chance to avoid detection.

CHAPTER 44
Jack spent the next two hours in solitude, which bordered on depression. The days chain of
negative events limited his active pursuit of mission clues, and he labored for a solution.
He welcomed a call from Lev. Tell me something to lift my spirits.
I assume your day still sucks.
An understatement, said Jack. Ive plunged into a dark pit.
Well, an occasional ray of light escapes from even the blackest abyss.
The hint of good news revived Jacks positive attitude. Talk to me Lev.
Something you said when you gave me the Russian update stuck with me like a song you
cant get out of your head. It haunted me for an hour, so I took a stab and called Haifa. I told them
to try Murder Incorporated for the PDA password. They keyed in the Russian translation, and
boominstant access.
Jack paced the floor. What did they find?
A 32-character access key generated by high-grade encryption software, said Lev.
On the verge of eruption, Jack blurted, Whats in the embedded text?
I dont know yet Jack. When Haifa loads the files to their system, theyll send my copy via
secure e-mail. Well do the same before we send yours. Uri will flag the files for you in
chronological order.
Upset with himself for sounding like a schoolboy on his first date, Jack sucked in a deep
breath for calm. When can I expect my copy?
I know how much this means to you Jack, I feel the same. Give me an hour.
I apologize for my excessive enthusiasm Lev, but this news pulled me from the depths of
hell. I pray we get what we need to take this mission to the finish line. If we dontwell, I prefer
not to go there.
A suggestion Jack, two heads are better than one. Let Marvin help with the analysis. Haifa
wants him in-the-know anyway.
I agree, he said. The degree of his involvement will be his decision.
Lets keep each other updated.
Ten-four, closed Jack.
He refilled his coffee and settled in for the longest hour of his life.

CHAPTER 45
The call from Jack with the embedded text news reprioritized Marvins day. He cancelled his
appointments on the hurried drive home.
With his suit coat shed and tie loosened, he joined Jack at the pedestal table. Anything?
Not yet, said Jack. He used the wait time to brief Marvin on the embedded text acquisition.
The laptop beeped and both heads snapped to the screen, which showed e-mails numbered
one through four.
We need to open them one at a time for analysis in chronological order, said Jack as he
opened the first e-mail.

A Project Unity update for The Children of Jihad: Operation

Signature is on track and will be complete in two or three weeks.
When the signature is acquired, we will launch Project Unity, which
will unify the Muslim world and drive the infidels from our lands.
The Judge
(Embedded text) When NAT verifies the signature, the world will
turn against our enemies. We will unite and follow in the footprints of
our beloved Saladin.
Disappointed the embedded text gave them no specifics, they decided to list items for
interpretation and analysis. Marvin wrote NAT and Saladin on a tablet and Jack opened number
two.

Ursayour portion of Operation Signature will be ready in about

two weeks. I will give you three days notice to get in position for
your part of the mission. Follow the instructions and all will be
well.The Judge
(Embedded text) Take Monkey Business from Phocean and deliver
Signature to Ormara. Codewordunity. More detail given you in
Phocean.
At least I understand Ursas function in the mission, said Jack. I still dont know why the
Jihadists needed them to make the delivery.
They continued with number three.

VengadorWe need your help with our adjusted plan.The Judge

(Embedded text) Lost contact with delivery team. Can you finish
job? Will pay you their ten million dollars.
Theyre soliciting Vengador to complete the delivery, said Jack. For my money, this
confirms Ursa as the Russian gang we took out.

With a nod from Marvin and no code words to add, Jack opened the final e-mail.

JudgeI can handle it.Vengador

(Embedded text) I will acquire Signature from Kinneys on
schedule, complete local delivery, and take redeye to Phocean. Have
instructions for me when I arrive so I can get started immediately.
Marvin added Kinneys to complete the list. Whats your take Jack?
Disappointment, he said as he pulled two Coronas from the fridge. I talked myself into a
fantasy where the embedded text fills in the blanks and ends the missionhappy days. In reality,
our access gave us a new list of questions. More shit to understand.
We cant quit now Jack.
I know, he sighed, but where do we go from here?
A suggestion?
Jack straightened. Im all ears.
One item on our list rings a bell, Saladin. Though he lived centuries ago, the Muslim world
reveres him today. I know an expert historian of the era who can give us the details.
Call him, said Jack. He might kick-start a plan of action for us.
He wont talk on the phone, we need to visit him.
His mild euphoria gave way to confusion. We need historical data not State secrets. Why
does it create a problem for your guy?
Marvin exhaled. He runs the JPA field operations and contact outside their network makes
him paranoid.
Jack slumped, frustrated. I moved in with you to lie low and avoid discovery. Why in the hell
would you suggest I expose myself to a private spy group?
Im confidant he can help us with other items on our list Jack. I worked with him for a year
and assure you he will not cause us a problem.
The prospect for interpretation of the lists items restored Jacks interest. He weighed the pros
and cons of the situation and decided to gamble, but Marvin deserved full disclosure to finalize a
decision to assist him.
I have information you need to know before we proceed. The President issued a directive to
locate me, and the FBI sent my photo to every cop in the metro area. If one of them spots me, you
wont receive an invitation to the Policemans Ball.
Why does Reynolds want you?
I dont know, he said, must be related to our mission.
Logical, said Marvin. He paused. Well take my BMW. The cops tend to ignore diplomatic
plates unless youre driving like an idiot. If you wear a hat and sunglasses, well be okay.
Jack more than appreciated the courage Marvin showed. Set it up.

CHAPTER 46
Virginia farmland
The black BMW with diplomatic plates eased to a stop alongside a small wooden kiosk thirty feet
shy of the thick wrought iron gate.
Marvin opened his side window and pressed a button in the kiosk. He locked his eyes onto a
closed-circuit camera for a full ten-seconds before the gate opened.
Took them long enough to recognize you, said Jack with a half-hearted chuckle.
A security procedure, said Marvin. If I move my eyes away from direct contact with the
camera before the gate opens, Ive signaled a problem. You might have a gun on me in an attempt
to gain illicit access. The office will alert their man in the sniper-blind, and he will put us in his
crosshairs.
Jack felt edgy. Over-the-top paranoia led to mistakes, and he did not want to pay the price for
their nervousness.
I see what you mean about your contacts paranoia.
The access road curved through windbreak rows of Italian cypress trees and led to their op
house. A large expanse of flat, cleared land surrounded the two-story Colonial house and further
convinced Jack of their insecurity.
A short, slender man with close-cropped dark hair greeted them in the driveway. Jack
estimated his age in the mid-fifties and understood why he ran the office. He would bet against him
being a field operative.
Damn Marvin, good to see you, he greeted and raised his hand for a high-five.
Likewise, said Marvin. Been awhile.
Whos your friend?
Bernie Gold, meet Jack McDuff.
He extended his hand. Hello Jack, welcome to our little operation.
His sociable demeanor caught Jack off guard and somewhat eased his anxiety.
Thank you for your hospitality and agreeing to help us.
Youre most welcome, said Bernie. Lets go inside and get started.
The young man with thick, bushy light-brown hair swiveled his chair from the array of
electronic equipment to greet the op-centers guests. A comic smile with a hint of a blush filled his
face when Bernie introduced his techie as Jimmy the Geek.
The play on words from the once popular sports odds makers moniker struck a humorous
chord with Jack. His initial paranoia induced trepidation vanished, replaced with an aura of
friendship.
What can I help you with, asked Bernie.
Saladin, said Marvin.
Bernies brow furrowed. Why go to the trouble to set this meeting. You can learn Saladins
full history from at least a dozen other sources.
Hes right, thought Jack. This approach makes us look stupid.
Marvin updated Bernie on the events and gave him the list of code words.
Okay, makes sense now, said Bernie. Ill abridge the history to the applicable facts of your
scenario. Saladin came to power in the twelfth century. He convinced the tribes and religious sects
to put aside their differences and unite to defend their world against King Richards Crusaders.

They retook Jerusalem and defended the city from recapture, which led to the decline of the
Crusade rule. Over time, they drove out the infidels.
Saladin ruled over a large area of the Middle East for many years, but after his death the old
rivalries resurfaced and they returned to their warring ways.
Explains their stated purpose, said Jack, but gives us nothing on their plan.
Youre right, said Bernie, and I agree with your signature position, nobody wields that
much power.
What about NAT?
We believe theyre his initials, but his verification wont make this happen either.
Jack nodded. Any idea on the rest of the clues?
Bernie scanned the items and handed the list to Jimmy. I can help you with one; Phocean
City was the early Middle Ages name for modern day Marseilles.
So, the signature will be routed through Marseilles for delivery by Vengador, whose identity
we dont know.
Vengador translates to Avenger in Spanish, said Jimmy.
This just gets weirder, said Jack. The Jihadists make an inexplicable deal with a Russian
gang to deliver the Signature. When we eliminate the option, they arrange a backup with a Spanish
group. Why dont they make the delivery themselves?
Jimmy responded, I cant answer your question Jack, but Ormaras a small out-of-the-way
fishing port near the Iranian border in Pakistan.
Jack folded his arms, frustrated. The embedded text promised an answer to our prayers, but
no such luck.
We made some progress today, said Bernie.
Yes we did, and I have you guys to thank for our gains.
Bernie left the door open for additional assistance.

CHAPTER 47
Vienna, Virginia
Jack thanked Marvin for the JPA meeting. Though the help from Bernie and Jimmy on their code
words did not clarify the Jihadist threat, it did give Jack a fresh perspective to reanalyze the data.
He returned from a pit-stop, and his gut stopped him short in the hallway at the boys
bedroom doorway. The elemental chart drew him in like a magnet. His mind spun.
BernieBernie Goldprecious metals. He studied the chart for a moment then joined
Marvin at the pedestal table.
Write Chicago on your tablet.
Marvin complied. Okay, what next?
Remember Vengadors response to the ID question from The Judge, Theres no silver in
Chicago. The chemical symbol for silver is Ag. Cross those letters out and tell me what remains.
Ill be damned, said Marvin. Vengadors name is Chico, but we still need to identify him.
A few years back I worked a mission with another agent, Carlos Cruz. A contract agent gave
us the tag names Chico and The Man.
Marvin sat erect. Damn Jack, youre on to something.
I got caught up in your train of thought too, he said, but theres a problem. Carlos turned
into a rebel agent, and I took on a rogue mission to track him down. The last time I saw him four
men snatched him from a sidewalk for the theft of a huge sum of money from a drug cartel.
Marvin slumped, disappointed. I doubt he lasted five minutes. I wanted Carlos to be our bad
guy.
A perfect fit, agreed Jack, but just a coincidence.
Jack pushed Carlos from his mind to eliminate the distraction from their analysis. The
elemental chart, however, proved more difficult to dismiss and continued to rear its ugly head. Jack
succumbed to his instincts. A half-hour pacing with his jumbled thoughts gave birth to a concept,
the elemental chart related to the signature.
A chemical signaturenot a personsthe initials NATan acronym for Nuclear
Assessment Teama nuclear device. What else can we add to the mix?
Well, mused Marvin. We know Vengador is scheduled to deliver the Signature to
Pakistan. We have to assume they intend detonation in the region, but where?
I cant wrap my head around the obvious choices, Iran and Pakistan, said Jack. Wont
accomplish what the Jihadists want. ButI cant think of a better place than a war zone.
Afghanistan?
Sure, said Jack. A nuclear explosion in the right location will point the finger at the U.S.
for breaking every nuclear treaty known to mankind.
Hell Jack, anybody can set off a nuclear bomb to make us look like the bad guys.
Enter the Nuclear Assessment Team. When they verify the chemical signature belongs to our
nuclear arsenal, the world will turn against us. Our allies wont be able to support us. The Muslim
sects and tribes will put their differences aside and unite behind the Jihadists to drive The Infidels
from their world.
Thus the Saladin Strategy, said Marvin. Jerusalem will be at the top of their list.
Exactly, said Jack. However, I cant quite buy our scenario. With the high security in place
for our nuclear warheads, how the hell could anybody steal one?

Dont flush your theory yet Jack. Five years ago a story surfaced about a missing warhead,
and I know a man who waded knee-deep into the investigation.
The prospect of insight into his concern shot a wave of adrenaline through Jack.
We need to talk to him.
I agree Jack, but you might balk at a meeting with him. His name is Clay Van Allen.
The investigative reporter?
One and the same, said Marvin.
Jesus, I cant take this to him.
I know why he maintains his public persona. When I dealt with him before, he proved
himself a straight shooter. He wont go public on anything without ironclad corroboration, and I
dont think our theory qualifies. Above all, hes a diehard patriot.
Jacks brain, on a full speed treadmill, sought an alternative to a meeting with Clay Van Allen.
If he knew the Jihadists timetable, the decision would be easy. He did not, and with time the
enemy, he felt backed in a corner. Jack trusted Marvin, but trusting his judgment regarding an
investigative reporter was another matter.
His thoughts tumbled for a few moments and ultimately settled on the only logical course of
action. If Marvin is wrong about this reporter, the disaster will be epic. He sighed.
Set it up.

CHAPTER 48
Langley, Virginia
The Lost Dutchman bar
They pulled curbside in front of the Lost Dutchman, a small neighborhood bar owned by Clay
Van Allen. Jack understood his need for a secure site to meet with contacts for his investigative
work. His premature white hair and pallid complexion made him one of the most recognizable men
in the country. The privacy protected his sources and current investigations, which made their
meeting possible though Jack preferred a neutral site to Clays turf.
A mammoth black man with a shaved head rose from the corner table to block their path to
Clays office. Jack was thankful the mountain-of-a-man recognized Marvin when they approached
and let them pass with a smile.
Van Allen looked more albino-like in person than on television. Jack assumed makeup made
the difference.
Marvin tells me youre ex-CIA, said Clay.
Yes I am, said Jack. I assume your proximity to the Agency is beneficial to your line of
work?
Accustomed to asking the questions and not explaining his business, Clay locked his pale-blue
eyes on Jack. He felt a tinge of anger, as they became circling alpha-dogs in search of an attack
opportunity and decided to let Marvin handle the meeting.
Clay felt the same and directed the conversation to Marvin. What have you got?
The missing warhead.
He shook his pallid head. The story died five years ago Marvin.
Maybe, but new intel suggests otherwise.
Clay glanced at his watch. Im short on time Marvin.
His lack of interest raised Jacks hackles. He straightened and leaned into the desk. Hard to
believe a reporter with your investigative reputation sloughs off a serious story update from a
legitimate source.
Explain to me why I need to salivate for data on a five-year old story from a political lobbyist
and an ex-CIA employee.
Jack choked back his anger. He needed to hear Clays version of the missing warhead story, a
possible key to his scenario. He swallowed hard. My official status is ex-CIA, said Jack, and I
am not on their employee payroll.
Clays face relaxed. I see, he said. Would I be correct if I assumed you generated the
intel?
Yes, he said.
The Agency was up to its neck in the investigation Jack, why do you need to hear it from
me?
Jack understood why they rated Clay the Top Dog in his field, quick on the uptake and
accurate with his assessments. He had legitimate concerns, and Jack needed to be truthful with his
response or they would find themselves on the sidewalk.
Only my handler knew my Contract Agent status. When a car bomb killed him after a
round of golf, I lost all connection to the Agency.

Cooper? Your contact?

Jacks silence answered Clays question and piqued his interest.
I see your dilemma. If you take this to the Agency, theyll consider the intel covertly obtained
and in direct opposition to their new policies. God knows what action they will take.
He nodded, pleased with the assessment.
Clay checked the time. Give me the nuts and bolts of your intel.
As part of an overall plan, A Jihadist cell initiated an action called The Saladin Strategy.
They contracted with a mercenary crew to acquire a nuclear warhead with an American chemical
signature for transport to Pakistan. With no point of detonation data, Ive deduced Afghanistan as
the logical site to achieve their goals.
Van Allen paused, his interest piqued. Brilliant, he said. The U.S. and Israel would stand
alone against a united enemy as King Richard did during The Crusades. Whats your status?
Hard at work on the intel interpretation, and given the security policies, I cant quite wrap my
head around the theft of one of our nuclear weapons.
Which brings us to the missing warhead story, said Clay. Ill give you the Readers Digest
version with the facts germane to your intel.
Fair enough, said Jack.
Five years ago, a B-52H Stratofortress departed Minot AFB in North Dakota bound for
Barksdale AFB in Louisiana. The wing pods carried twelve AGM-129 Cruise Missiles. In
violation of numerous international treaty agreements, several of the missiles carried live nuclear
warheads.
The Army Times received tips from anonymous officers about the incident. Other media
picked up their story and expanded the coverage.
Quick to respond, the Air Force issued a press release to neutralize the problem, which
backfired. They owned up to the mistake, and declared the problem solved with sweeping
procedural changes. The incredulity of fast action by the military only added fuel to the media
bonfire and forced them to take a different tactic.
The second release admitted the mistake was in fact a top-secret operation, and they leaked
the story to the press to put a scare into Iran. The fervor soon faded.
Later, they gave a five warhead count to a Congressional sub-committee. The whistleblowers
subsequently informed the Army Times six warheads disappeared from Minot AFBnot five. If
six warheads vanished from Minot AFB and five appeared at Barksdale AFBwell, you do the
math.
I remember when the story broke but cant recall a thing about a missing warhead, said
Jack.
Doesnt surprise me, the Pentagon deserves a gold star for their expediency in quashing the
story. They made the illegal transport of the weapons the focal point and kept the warhead count
issue buried.
Whats your opinion?
I find the Pentagons version hard to buy due to their inconsistent actions. If the Air Force
planned and carried out the tactic to scare Iran, why investigate every officer in the chain of
command to determine responsibility for a mistake? Makes no sense.
Do you know the results of their investigations?
All cleared but two-star Air Force General Marcus McCallister. They had no concrete proof,
but considered him a suspect. After two fruitless years of surveillance, they ended the investigation.

I thought he might be on to them and relax after they pulled out, so I put my investigative team on
him. After six months, I cut my losses and pulled the plug.
So there I sat with no way to revive the story. The warhead never surfaced and General
McCallister retired to spend his days fishing. Over the five years since the story broke, the doubters
gave in to the Pentagons version. I still believe somebody stole a W-80 nuclear warhead five years
ago, but I cant get excited when told about new intel.
Do you know the weapons yield?
No clue, said Clay. The W-80s variable yield ranges from 5 to 150 kilotons, anything
from a deep-bunker buster to a monster ten times stronger than Hiroshima. For the Jihadists
purposes though, it doesnt matter.
Youre right, said Jack. All they need is a nuclear detonation with an American chemical
footprint. Just curious.
Speaking of curious, do you possess acquisition intel?
We havent cracked the codeword, somebody or someplace called Kinney.
Clays face turned to stone. He pressed a speed dial number on his iphone and cancelled his
morning appointments. The codeword Kinney triggered a reaction. His sudden interest in the
scenario energized Jack. What new intel would he bring to the table?
Do you know their timeline? asked Clay.
No, but I believe its in motion.
Shit, said Clay as he keyed in a number. Georgie, I need you to set up on General
McCallister againand time is of the essence. Clay listened and closed the call, Thanks Georgie.
Keep me updated.
The anxious faces forced a chuckle from Clay. I imagine you guys are curious.
You bet, said Jack. Why did Kinney trigger your response?
Kinneys Ranch is the original site of modern day Corpus Christie, Texas, and guess who
resides there.
General Marcus McCallister, said Jack.
Spot on, said Clay. Georgie will be set up on the General in two hours. Ill call Marvin
with the activity reports.
The euphoria created by the meetings accomplishments faded when Jack recalled the
enemys unknown timetable. He muttered a thought aloud. I pray were not too late.

CHAPTER 49
Corpus Christie, Texas
The twelve-foot skiff with a transom mounted trolling motor floated in the still water of Copano
Bay. A large full-brim hat served two purposes for the lone occupant. It sheltered him from the
bright midday Texas sun and hid from view a small pair of flip down binoculars strapped to his
forehead. He held a fishing pole over the skiffs side to complete the blended-in look.
The only perceptible change since his last visit was increased salt air weathering of the
boathouse, home for the Generals twenty-six foot Chris Craft sportfisher.
He noted a small, inflatable Zodiac boat on shore a hundred yards down beach from the
Generals house. With no alarms raised, Georgie settled in to wait.
Gen. Marcus McCallister returned from his morning fishing trip and secured the Chris Craft in the
boathouse. The long pier-like walkway led to the rear of his brick home.
He deposited the plastic bag of Redfish filets in the freezer and opened the refrigerator for a
cold beer.
Hello General.
Startled, he spun to face a muscular, younger man with buzz cut, light brown hair.
Jesus Buck, why the hell are you here?
To settle our issue.
We resolved that a month ago.
Not in my mind General. We pulled off the crime of the century and I give you full credit for
your pure genius plan, but my boots were on the ground, not yours. If they caught me in the act,
they wouldve put me down like an egg-sucking dog. I took all the risk, and have yet to see any
reward.
Be patient Buck, Ill set up the ransom payment when the time is right, wont be long.
The five-year wait has used up my patience General. Theres a new plan.
Even with Buck pushed to his limit, the General remained confident he could control the
situation and buy more time, until a second man appeared. The muscular, tan complexioned man
with a shaved head made him nervousa mercenary. Though the new player weakened his
position, he maintained a strong front.
Who the hell is this?
My new partner, said Buck.
Knees weak, he eased himself onto a chair and softened his approach. Whats your plan?
You take us to the bomb.
Let me guess, he said. Youll sell it to a terrorist group. Youre out of your mind if you
think Ill give you a nuclear warhead to kill thousands of Americans.
Buck pulled a pistol from his rear waistband and attached a sound suppressor. I assure you
General, not a single citizens life will be at risk except yours if you dont give us the bomb.
The Generals survival instincts surfaced. Not ready to die, he needed to believe Buck to
justify his request. He paused.
Alright, Ill give you the warhead.
A wise decision General, said Buck. Well use your truck.
We dont need the truck. The warhead is in the boathouse.
Buck smiled. Even better, well use your boat to make the delivery.

The General unlocked the large, brass padlock to open the boathouse storage door and expose the
lone item insidea solid wood crate three-and-a-half feet long and fifteen inches square. He
retrieved a handheld radiation detector from an inside shelf to verify their safety.
Were good, he said.
Buck released the hold-downs to open the crates lid.
Just a crack so I can check the interior radiation.
Buck complied and the General inserted the detectors sensors in the small opening and
nodded.
With the warhead verified, Buck closed the lid and re-secured the hold-downs.
The lead lined lid is heavy, said Buck. Do you know the total weight?
The warhead is just shy of three-hundred pounds, so my best guess on the whole package
four-twenty.
Okay partner, lets load this monster, said Buck.
They wheeled the crate to the Chris Craft and wrestled it on deck.
Buck looked the General in the eyes. You drive.
Georgie fought boredom for two hours until the Generals Chris Craft passed and berthed in the
boathouse. Fifteen minutes after he entered the rear of his brick home, the General and two
mercenary types exited and made their way to the boathouse.
With the three men on board, the Chris Craft passed him ten minutes later.
Panic set in with their destination unknown and no way to follow. In dismay, Georgie
watched the boat shrink as it drove away, and then, a reprieve. They pulled alongside a large
oceangoing yacht anchored in the deep-water center of the lake. Georgie flipped down his
binoculars.
The bald merc boarded the yacht, and in short order they hoisted a wooden crate from the
Chris Craft onboard with the yachts davit.
With the mercs return to the boat, the yacht weighed anchor and steered toward the jetty for
access to open water as the Chris Craft returned to the boathouse.
The mercs made their way from the boathouse to shore and the Zodiac. After they drove out
of sight, Georgie steered his skiff to the boathouse to check the Generals status. He found him
slumped in the pilot chair, a small entry wound in the back of his head, the gauges splattered with
blood and brain matter.
With the Zodiac abandoned at a small public boat ramp, the two mercs pointed the Impala rental car
east toward the George Bush Intercontinental Airport in Houston.
I dont understand why you agreed to travel halfway around the world to complete the
warhead delivery, said Buck. We have thirty million in the Cayman account, how much money
do we need?
We didnt agree to the delivery for the money. I viewed it as an insurance policy. Dont
know about you, but I dont trust Jihadists. If our usefulness to them ended when we turned over
the warhead, they wouldnt think twice about killing us in lieu of making a thirty-million dollar
payout.
Buck thought for a moment then grinned. I look forward to a pleasure cruise to celebrate our
success.

CHAPTER 50
Langley, Virginia
The Lost Dutchman bar
Jack tempered his excitement for the new intel as best he could on the drive to the surprise meeting
set up by Clay Van Allen.
They exchanged waves with Clays large bodyguard at the corner table as they passed by to
enter the office.
Welcome gentlemen, said Clay. Take a seat.
Whats up? asked Marvin.
I heard from my man.
Damn, said Jack. Sure didnt take long.
The action went down two hours after Georgie setup. Clay leaned over his desk. Two
mercenary types hooked up with General McCallister at his home. They took his boat to a large
oceangoing yacht in the bay and transferred a wooden crate. From a distance, Georgie estimated
the size at three to four feet in length and eighteen inches square, which is perfect for a W-80
warhead.
They returned to the boathouse, and the mercs left the area in a small Zodiac boat stashed on
the beach. With no sign of the General, Georgie checked his status and found him on his boat shot
to death execution style.
Marvin sat erect in shock. My God! You mean they murdered him?
They eliminated a loose end, said Jack.
Unbelievable, murmured Marvin.
Clay checked his notes. One more item from Georgie, the name of the yacht is Playtime. I
called my yachting world contact for background data. An Omani Sheik, unfriendly to the western
world, owns her and an identical sister ship. Playtime cruises the western hemisphere while the
other covers the Middle East and Europe.
The delivery by boat makes sense since the destination is a small seaport in western Pakistan,
but I cant quite put the pieces together, said Jack.
It sounds perfect, said Clay. Whats the problem?
Jack hesitated, then retrieved a plain, letter-size manila envelope from his tote and handed it to
Clay.
Whats this?
Copies of intercepted e-mails from and to the Jihadist ramrod of this mission, said Jack.
Theyre stapled in chronological order, and Ive footnoted our interpretation of their code words
on the applicable pages.
He removed the contents and locked his eyes on the first intercept. Fits right into your
scenario Jack, he said as he flipped the page to expose the second message. He read page two and
rechecked his notes. What do ya know, Monkey Business is the name of the sister ship.
Eyes wide, Jacks body straightened. Of course, he said. Theyll use Monkey Business to
make the delivery. Those waters are their crews backyard.
Clay nodded and read number three. So, when The Judge lost contact with the Russians, he
solicited the acquisition team to complete the delivery. Why didnt he use his people?

A non-Arab crew on a pleasure cruise will draw less attention and suspicion, said Jack.
Your viewpoints a far cry from the Jihadists paradigm, but it makes sense, he said. I have
to assume Vengador will fly to Marseilles and take Monkey Business out for an open water
transfer of the warhead.
How long will it take Playtime to be in position for the transfer in the Med?
Ohseven or eight days, said Clay.
Read the final e-mail.
Clay stared at the last page and set the copies on his desk. So, if Vengador takes the redeye
to Marseilles tonight and puts Monkey Business to sea tomorrow, we have a one-week
discrepancy in our timeline.
Now you understand my concern, said Jack. This puts my entire scenario at risk.
Leaned back, Clay rubbed his nose with his thumb and forefinger for an eternal moment. He
leaned into the desk. I disagree Jack. Your intel is too solid to ignore. Theyll fly the warhead to
the Med and we dont yet have the intel.
In deep thought, Jack slumped in his chair then sat upright. Youre right Clay. We have to try
something, but we cant go through normal channels. The Pentagon will never admit to a stolen
warhead or their bullshit cover story. Theyll bury us.
Clay interlocked his fingers behind his neck. All the more reason I cant take it public.
Theyll dismiss the story as investigative reporter sensationalism. We need a backdoor to someone
who can and will take action.
MECA, the covert group Bailey set up for the Agency, came to mind. Jack decided not to
mention it now, but kept it on the table as a final option.
Ill find a way, he said.
Clay leaned over the desk, his pale blue eyes fixed on Jack. The warheads in transit. You
dont have much time.

CHAPTER 51
Jack brought Coronas to the pedestal table and placed one in front of Marvin. His silence since
Clays revelation at the meeting alerted Jack to a potential problem in their relationship. If Marvins
commitment to their objective was not one-hundred per cent, he needed to make other
arrangements for both their sakes.
I know the Generals death shocked you Marvin, and Ill understand if you need to withdraw
from our project. I can find another base of operations.
Marvin locked eyes with Jack. I admit the Generals cold-blooded murder slapped me in the
face, he said. Once composed though, I understood the seriousness of our situation. If their
mission succeeds, my son and his mother will be in extreme peril. You cant dynamite me away.
Pleased with the response, Jack nodded. Well hell then, lets get to it.
Given the risk to Israel, have you considered Haifa?
With a nod, Jack replied, Theyll follow the protocol like puppets. The American warhead
identification will force Haifa to contact the Pentagon before they engage. Their Pentagon liaison
will deny personal knowledge and promise to get them answers. Hell stall while the powers-thatbe deal with the shock of Haifas request.
In time, theyll come to the inevitable conclusion to bump the decision upstairs to the
President for approval to update Haifa. He wont want to admit to a stolen nuclear weapon and will
take the matter under advisement to delay the decision. Theyll all take the threat serious when they
see the end result on CNN.
Marvin sipped his beer and stared at the label. Damn Jack, Im under direct orders to notify
Haifa the minute we learn any applicable intel. I believe your protocol assessment, but it puts me in
a precarious position.
Haifa wont know when we acquire data. Lets give ourselves a day for a shot to create a
workable plan.
And if we dont? asked Marvin.
Well notify Haifa, but first Ill update Lev in the hope he can convince them to forgo the
Pentagon protocol, a long shot.
Conflicted, Marvin paced for several minutes then rejoined Jack at the table. Lets get to
work.
Jack used the next few minutes to consider and eliminate options until one remained. Ive
boiled our chances down to a single possibility Marvin, my local contact.
As I recall, you doubted him.
I still do.
How sure are you of his ability to help us?
Hes second in command at the Agency.
Marvins eyes popped wide. Woweither very good or very bad.
I put the odds at fifty-fifty.
Not a sure thing Jacka big risk.
With their mission in full operation and the warhead in transit, what other choice do we
have?
What approach will you take?
Slow and cautious, he said. We need to learn the truth with a minimum of jeopardy.

He opened Baileys last e-mail to access his phone number.

Thanks for the call Jack, Bailey answered. Id given up on you.
He recognized Baileys voice, which encouraged him to continue. How did you identify me
as the caller?
Only one other person has this number, and I know his ID.
Alright Bailey, he said. I possess verified intel on a high-level Jihadist mission. Their
success will alter the demographics in the Middle East and destroy Americas influence in world
politics. Given the Agencys current policies, can you create a quick action plan to react to the
threat?
Fill me in and well come up with something.
Jack exhaled; the reply eliminated the Agencys involvement. His initial thought to terminate
the contact with Bailey gave way to his final optionMECA. He wanted to evaluate the options
validity, but needed a face-to-face discussion with Bailey to incorporate his body language in the
assessment, a risky proposition. After a moment of self-debate, he made a decision. Not over the
phone.
Okay Jack, lets meet.
I have a small problem. The President issued a locate order for me to the FBI, and I need to
keep my travel to a minimum.
Jesus Jack, you consider a Presidential Directive a small problem? What did you do to piss
off Reynolds?
No clue.
Give me your location, and well come to you.
Your e-mails led me to believe you worked solo on this with me, bellowed Jack, his face
flushed. You said we! Who the hell else is involved?
Bailey hesitated, General Richard Sholtz.
Sholtz? Head of the NSA? Are you out of your mind? stammered Jack. Hes in the
Presidents pocket. What in the hell made you think Id meet with him? He placed his thumb on
the phones end-call button and hesitated, his gut told him to listen to the response.
With the conversation at a critical point, Bailey played his hole card. Sholtz and I joined
forces on the Project Unity problem.
The mention of the missions name stopped Jack cold and forced him to further discussion.
His fist clenched. How many people know about Project Unity on your end?
Just the two of us.
If you bullshit me Bailey, you wont like the result.
I know the drill.
Jack did not want Marvins involvement known. Pick a secure, neutral site Bailey, and we
dont have the luxury to waste time.
Ill drive, said Marvin after Jack gave Bailey his number and closed the call. The
diplomatic plates will protect us.
You need to remain invisible with this group.
Marvin nodded and tossed Jack the key to his Beemer.

CHAPTER 52
OBanions Irish pub
Jack arrived an hour before the designated time to recon the neighborhood and the strip mall. With
nothing seen to raise a flag, he parked Marvins Beemer mid-lot with a clear line of sight to
OBanions entrance. After a quiet half-hour, he pulled his full brim hat down and entered the pub.
With a mug of coffee from the muscular, young man behind the bar, Jack settled at a small,
round table adjacent to the unlit bank of dartboards with a clear view of the entrance.
The opening entry door flooded the pub in bright sunlight and snapped Jack to full alert. He
recognized General Sholtz from news photos. The early arrival fit standard procedure and raised no
concern. His lengthy conversation with the bartender however, elevated Jacks pulse rate.
Bailey soon entered and joined Sholtz at the table in the center of the room. They faced the
entrance with their backs turned toward Jack.
With a confident air essential for success, Jack removed his floppy hat and joined them at their
table.
Good morning gentlemen.
Damn Jack, you startled us, said Bailey. Where the hell did you come from?
Jack tipped his head to the rear of the room.
Great move, said Sholtz. I see you understand covert work. Please take a seat.
Sholtz raised his arm to the bartender.
Jack locked eyes on the young man and slipped his hand into the fag bag strapped to his
midsection to grip his Sig pistol.
You wont need the gun Jack, said Sholtz, hes just the bartender. On my arrival, I
arranged for our use of the banquet room. I signaled him to do the setup. He paused. OBanions
is my local hangout Jack. None of the regulars or staff knows my identity or job description. I only
go by Rick when Im here.
Jack smiled. I apologize for my paranoia Rick.
No need, he said. Its part of our job description.
Settled in the banquet room with fresh coffee, Jack gave Rick and Bailey a detailed rundown
on Project Unity.
Rick drank coffee for several minutes to assess Jacks scenario. Im all in on your intel. I
heard the missing warhead story on a visit to HQ in Kuwait. No big story disappears in two days
unless the top brass quashes it. Forget about the warhead transport intel Jack. If we required a
hundred percent verified data, wed never run a mission.
The acceptance of his scenario flushed the tension from Jacks body and filled him with
confidence about their direction. What about you Bailey?
Im on board, he said, makes perfect sense.
Were in agreement and need to put a plan in motion today, said Rick. The floor is open
gentlemen.
Jack appreciated Ricks no nonsense lets get it done attitude. My one option leads straight to
the Pentagon, which I consider a disaster.
I agree Jack, their primary focus will be the missing warhead cover story, said Rick. Do
you have anything Bailey?
If I take this to the Agency, theyll shoot us down and put us out of business.

Will MECA help? Can you contact them? asked Jack.

The stunned look on Baileys face was priceless. How the hell do you know about MECA?
Jack regretted the question since he could not divulge John Colter as his source. Rick became
his savior.
Jesus Bailey, you live in a world of black ops and espionage where nothing stays buried
forever.
I know, he said, but with my neck on the MECA chopping block, I was hopeful. He
moved on. To answer your question Jack, I had no contact with the field agents. I worked from
my desk to restructure the network and the Agencys detachment.
You did a brilliant job Bailey with one exception, the name, said Rick. Our contacts
convinced us MECA was too similar to Mecca and would be perceived as an insult, so we
rearranged the letters to ACME for use in-country.
Jack chuckled. Did your people tag you Wile Coyote?
Not to my face, he said. His smile faded. I have a possible solution and need clearance and
support for implementation.
From who? asked a nervous Bailey.
Youll never know his name, and hell not hear either of yours.
Fair enough, said Jack. Whats next?
Rick stood. I need to go to my office.

CHAPTER 53
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
General Sholtz instructed his admin to hold all calls as he passed her desk en route to his office. He
called the secure number for Admiral Tucker Forsythe, head of SOCOM (Specials Ops
Command).
Hello Rick, he answered. Glad to hear from you. I meant to call you, but these damn
terrorists dont give me any free time.
I understand Tuck.
I wanted to make it to your introductory luncheon but couldnt break away.
Not a problem Tuck, he said. Hell, I didnt want to go.
Yeah, the social crap isnt your bailiwick, he laughed. That aside, I want to congratulate
you on the promotion. Hows the new job?
You know me, said Sholtz. I prefer my boots on the ground to a seat behind a desk.
Comes a time to hang up the spurs Rick, he said. A great opportunity if you learn to play
the game.
Im trying Tuck.
Sholtz was not in the habit of making social calls, so with the amenities complete, Forsythe
pressed him.
Whats the purpose of your call Rick?
I acquired high-level intel, and I cant go through the normal channels.
Forsythe paused. Hop a flight from Andrews to MacDill. I found a great restaurant in
Tampa. Well wolf down oversized steaks and drink twelve-year old single malt scotch while we
analyze the intel, like the old days.
Id love to Tuck, but were at critical mass on the problem. I believe we need to activate an
operation without delay.
Sounds serious, he said. Fill me in.
A Jihadist cell has acquired an American nuclear weapon, which is in transit via yacht to
Ormara, a small fishing port in southwest Pakistan. Intel suggests theyll truck the device to
Afghanistan for detonation.
Whats the timeline for arrival in Ormara?
Not sure, said Sholtz. The worst case scenario is three days, four at the outside.
Let me put you on hold for a minute, said Forsythe.
The minute turned into three, then four. Sholtz strummed his fingers on the desktop until he
heard the reconnection click.
We need three days to move an amphibious assault ship in position, which takes a sea
capture off the table. Well have to execute the acquisition on land, but not in Pakistan. Our
relationship with them is tenuous at best. We need to recover the warhead after they cross the
border into Afghanistan. By then, we will be in range for a Seahawk helicopter to transport the
weapon to the ship.
The ground intercept is the most difficult aspect of the plan, said Sholtz.
Forsythe paused. Which is why I want you to ramrod the mission Rick, but hear me out

before you accept. Youre not sanctioned for this, so failure will amount to political suicide.
Oh hell Tuck, weve both already thrown away the rulebook. If the mission goes south,
youll be in the shithouse with me.
Well okay, laughed Forsythe. Ill contact Belson to authorize the mission. Hook up with
him to work out the details after you adjust your sat tracking.
Yes Sir, he said then sought a missing warhead confirmation from Forsythe. What will you
do with the weapon after retrieval?
Transport it to Pantex to be decommissioned. Theyll lose the paperwork, and for all practical
purposes the warhead will disappear.
His response verified the rumored stolen warhead as the center point of their unsanctioned
mission and made the risk acceptable.
I need one more item Tuck, a disposition on the warheads delivery crew.
We dont need lies about a nuclear weapon spread around the Middle East do we?
Ten-four, said Sholtz.

CHAPTER 54
Sholtz chest pounded like a jackhammer after he closed the call with Admiral Forsythe. For the
first time since his promotion to head the NSA, he felt alive. He jumped at the chance to head the
retrieval mission, regardless the consequences.
The expected rap on his office door marked the onset of the mission and shot a pulse of
adrenaline through his body.
Get in here Andy, he bellowed, which sounded more like an order than an invitation.
What can I do for you Sir?
How busy are you?
About average, whats up?
A high-priority task Andy, which will require your full attention for several days. You need
to pawn off your non-sensitive work.
Yes Sir, said Andy. He retrieved a steno pad from his briefcase.
We need to retask our satellites for the sea lanes from Marseilles through the Suez Canal with
a termination at Ormara, Pakistan. Put all available in-range drones on ready alert stand-by for
surveillance on the coverage gaps. We are in search of a yacht named Monkey Business. When
located, set up full time tracking and surveillance and notify me. And Andy, this operation is critical
to national security.
With Andy in motion, Sholtz contacted Colonel Robert Belson to work on the intercept-andretrieve side of the operation. Belson served as second in command when Sholtz headed the Middle
East black ops group. He assumed the top spot with the sudden announcement of Sholtzs transfer
to head the NSA.
Belson here.
Hello Rob.
I expected your call Rick. Forsythe authorized carte blanche assistance, this must be big.
Ill give you what I can.
Belson understood the covert-ese. He was on the hated need-to-know basis.
Update me.
A Jihadist cell will deliver a nuclear warhead by yacht to Ormara. From there, we believe
rogue ISI agents will ground transport the weapon to the Afghan border.
Makes sense for them to use Taliban leaning rogues, agreed Belson. Their Secret Police
credentials will facilitate safe passage. If State sponsored, theyd use a helicopter.
Were on the same page Rob, said Sholtz. A Taliban team will take possession of the
weapon at or near the border, which is where you come in. We need to intercept the delivery and
take possession of the warhead for transport out via Seahawk helicopter.
Belson scratched a note for his team to plot all possible truck routes from Ormara to the
Afghan border.
Whats our timeline Rick?
We estimate three or four days. When we locate the delivery team, we can sharpen the
number. For safetys sake though, lets assume three days.
A young soldier spun from the computer with four fingers raised.
We have four possible routes to the border, and well need a six-man team for each. Ill outfit
them with transponders so the Seahawk can locate us. Lets see papers rustled, well use

locater protocol three. Can you have Forsythe notify the transport team?
No problem, he said. Anything else?
My team cant wait on the ground with a nuclear warhead surrounded by dead Taliban for
hours on end. The Seahawk needs a jump start to be there when the ambush goes down.
Forsythe will give the ship your contact information for co-ordination. Let me know if I can
help you with anything else.
I will, said Belson and paused. One thing I cant get my head wrapped around. Our land
operation is complex with substantial risk, while the yacht will be in open water for at least three
days. We can take them out with a Hellfire missile from a Predator, which involves zero risk. Worst
case scenario, a Seal Team incursion.
His inescapable logic begged a response, and Sholtz exercised caution with his choice of
words.
The missions primary function is to acquire the warhead intact and undamaged. The timeline
is too short for our assets to be in position for a sea capture, which saddles us with the land
acquisition.
Belson accepted the explanation. I need to get to work.
Sholtz contacted Admiral Forsythe to complete the missions front-end arrangements.
He then informed Bailey of the missions onset and asked him to update Jack.
The last task on his agenda nagged at him like a fishwife. Cole Andrews needed a Project
Unity teaser to keep the White House at bay until the mission ran its course. He adlibbed and shot
from the hip on his previous conversations with Cole, but the elevated stakes forced a new tactic.
He needed to design the teaser, which promised a long, tense afternoon.

CHAPTER 55
The White House
Cole Andrews answered the call announced over his intercom. What a surprise General, I didnt
expect a call from you this late in the day.
Sholtz responded to Coles sarcasm. Contrary to your belief, I manage to put in my time on
the job.
Oh, I never doubted you General. What have you got for me?
We picked up a Project Unity rumor, and were in the verification process.
Fill me in.
Ill update you when confirmed, said Sholtz.
Coles face flushed. Why the hell did you call me?
Anger burned through the handset and Sholtz loved it. The three hours spent at work on the
teaser proved time well spent.
I didnt want you to pick up dirt from the street and think I didnt do my job, said Sholtz. He
grinned.
Upset for his loss of control, Cole paused to calm himself. Let me know when you have
something, he said and closed the call.
Frustrated, Cole paced to review the Generals call. Fragments of the conversation tumbled
through his head and a thought surfaced. Dirt from the street meant a local source, aka the
Mystery Man. Sholtz must have identified him and made contact.
Aggravated, Cole made a decision; he needed options and e-mailed his dirty-tricks crew.

VengadorAn unidentified man threatens to expose Project Unity

to the public, which will do severe damage to the re-election
campaign. Prepare to secure him when located. Photo attached.
Miner

CHAPTER 56
Vengador op-house
Chesapeake Bay
The sunsets golden hues succumbed to dusks grey tones as day gave way to night. The
sunrooms lone occupant absorbed the peaceful scene, a daily ritual for a break from his hectic
routine.
A tone from the laptop in the adjacent office alerted him to a received e-mail. With reluctance,
he eased himself from the oversized wicker chair to respond.
He read the message from Miner and followed protocol. The reply to his forwarded e-mail
arrived in two minutes.

Contact our man in San Diego and alert him to a pending e-mail
from me with the details for Operation Safeguard. Advise me if you
have a problem with the contact.

CHAPTER 57
North Island
Coronado, California
Located two minutes from the main gate of the Naval Base Coronado (NBC), The Hanger is a
popular, local bar designed to attract military clientele. Ninety per cent of the customers are either
active or retired naval personnel, which includes Navy Seals and mercenaries.
Brute, a large man with short brown hair and a stone-cold heart fit the latter category. In need
of two men for the Operation Safeguard crew, he arrived at The Hanger early. He finished the
Lumberjack breakfast and ordered a large carafe of coffee, prepared to spend the day.
In midmorning, two muscular candidates entered and Brute thanked his luck. He had worked
on a previous mission with one of the men. With the carafe and coffee cup in hand, he crossed to
their table.
Hello Gator.
Jesus Brute, I havent seen you since the Panama operation, he said and introduced him to
Sly.
Brute chuckled. You must be the sneaky one.
Im a Rambo fan, but the tag name sounded arrogant so I used Stallones nickname.
Brute nodded and locked eyes with Gator. Im surprised to see you, figured youd hang out
at home in the Mississippi swamps on your off time.
Youre right, he said. We got in late last night and need to debrief at noon today. Ill catch
a flight home this afternoon.
With two perfect candidates for his crew, Brute needed to solicit their help before they left to
debrief.
Appears providence united us today gentlemen, I need two good men for an operation.
I cant speak for Sly, said Gator, but I look forward to going home after a month long
mission.
Brute assessed his candidates in search of an advantage. He rated them part-time mercenaries,
as opposed to the action-junkies who moved from one hot spot to the next on a full-time basis.
However, they shared a common bond of patriotism, which was Brutes hole card.
I understand Gator, said Brute. Do me a favor though, and hear me out.
Sly and Gator eyed one another and nodded in agreement.
This is a low-risk mission with minimal travel, and the easiest ten-grand youll ever make for
five to six days of work. Most important though, is the operations national security aspect.
What do you think Sly? Gator asked after a brief pause.
No plans, he said, so Ill go along with your decision.
Gator locked eyes with Brute. If you ever run out of mercenary work, get a job on a used car
lotwere on board.
Thanks, said Brute. His face showed an appreciative smile as he shook hands with them to
cement their agreement. How much time do you need to debrief?
Oha couple of hours, said Gator.
Perfect, said Brute. Ill recon the job to finalize the plan and meet you here at three
oclock.

CHAPTER 58
La Jolla, California
The high-dollar neighborhood of older homes was rife with mature landscaping. The large trees
and over-grown shrubbery provided the privacy needed to execute their plan undetected.
Brute parked the Suburban in the thick growth adjacent to the house. The forty-minute drive
allowed him to brief the men on the mission. He and Gator would execute the plan while Sly
waited for their call to pull the Suburban into the driveway.
How did you find a UPS uniform on short notice? whispered Gator on the way through the
brush to the front door.
Ive had this for years, comes in handy now and then.
Wont they expect to see a big brown truck in the driveway?
The foliage blocks the view.
Good recon Brute, said Gator as he ducked from sight.
Art responded to the doorbell. The peephole revealed a large UPS deliveryman with a small
package in hand. He snapped the deadbolt open and turned the knob. The door thrust inward and
planted Art on his backside. He shook off the shock and surprise to find two men hovered over
him, the large one and another with a pistol trained on him. He filled with anger.
Who the hell are you? What do you want?
Brute ignored the questions. Wheres your wife?
The seriousness of the situation now evident, Art forced composure and tempered his rage.
Shes gone.
What time will she return?
In two weeks. Shes in New York, said Art.
I dont believe a word of your bullshit, he laughed. Lets move him to another room. Ziptie his wrists and gag him. Well wait for the wife.
The sound of the garage door alerted them to her arrival. Brute waited for the kitchen door to
close before he stepped into view, surprised. Well, what do you know, two for the price of one?
Set your purses on the counter, he directed. We dont need any pepper-spray incidents or
unexpected 911 calls.
Wheres my husband? Is he okay? Linda blurted on the verge of hysteria.
Hes fine, said Gator.
The women spun to the voice behind them.
What do you want? Money? Jewelry? Lindas voice cracked from the strain.
If you do what youre told, Ill bring your husband out. Put your purses on the counter and
move to the living room sofa. He gave Mary a handle her look.
Not a typical home invasion, Mary recognized the two men as mercenaries and obliged.
Art rubbed the red marks on his wrists from the removed zip-tie as they walked to the living
room. He sat and placed his arm around Linda to comfort her and ease her hysteria. She continued
to babble, but at a low enough volume not to disturb their captors.
Brute stood in front of Mary. Who the hell are you, and how do you fit into the plan?
She remained silent.
If you want to live, youd better talk to me.
Take a look at this, said Gator. He tossed the cell phone removed from the leather case

clipped to Marys purse.

A surprised look showed on his face. Is this hers?
Gator nodded.
He made direct eye contact with Mary. How did you come by a military sat-phone? He
waited in vain for a response. His face reddened. My patience with your mutism has
You need to check this out, interrupted Gator.
Brute joined him at a wall of family pictures. This better be good man, I was on a roll.
Gator pointed at a framed lovey-dovey photo of Jack and Mary on a yacht. He looks like the
picture of Jack you showed me.
Brute unfolded the printout from his shirt pocket and compared it to the photo on the wall.
Pay dirt, he said. Ill shove this down her throat. The bitch will talk to me now.
Let me handle her boss.
Brute agreed after a brief hesitation. Dont waste time. We need to get on the road. He
handed him Marys phone.
With Mary relocated across the room, Gator knelt next to the overstuffed chair and faced her.
He spoke in a soft tone. The only reason youre alive is this sat phone. If you dont co-operate
with me, I wont be able to control him. I want to deliver a message to Jack with your phone, and I
need your help.
Mary thrust a stream of daggers from her eyes then snatched the phone from Gators hand.
Were good to go, he called out.
Alright, said Brute. Deliver the message while I phone in the update.
Mary entered a four-digit unlock code and pressed the speed-dial button for Jack. She handed
Gator the phone.
After four rings, the phone kicked to voicemail.
Jack, we have an elderly couple and a beautiful lady with shoulder-length black hair and the
prettiest blue eyes Ive ever seen in our custody. If you want to see them alive again, walk away
from Project Unity.
He flashed a thumb up.
Brute closed his call. Lets go.

CHAPTER 59
Vienna, Virginia
Bailey briefed Jack on Sholtzs warhead recovery mission, which made him a spectator to the final
action in the demise of Project Unity and a hopeful resolution to Coopers murder investigation.
A successful conclusion would end Jacks rogue involvement and return Mary and him to the
good life. The tension drained from his body and altered his physical status to something akin to a
wet dishrag.
He placed a quick update call to Mary before he retired for the night.
Jack greeted Marvins late arrival home with a cold Corona. A real ball buster today?
Needed to catch up at work, he said. How was your day?
I turned into a good-for-nothing lazy bum, didnt do a damn thing.
Exactly what you needed, he said.
I dont want to get into the habit.
Marvin laughed. Dont worry, the action will find you soon enough.
No argument, said Jack.
If you crave a little adventure, grab your floppy hat, said Marvin. Well go out for Chinese
and play tag with the FBI.
Sounds great, I need a quick shower.
No rush, Ill pop another beer.
The hot shower and clean clothes snuffed out the lethargy from his lazy day, and he looked
forward to dinner out with Marvin. A voicemail alert greeted his return to the pedestal table.
The kidnappers message pushed his mind through a gauntlet of emotions. Fear and panic
gave way to anger and rage. He allowed a moment for his raw reactions to run their course before
he forced the control needed to deal with the threat.
Whats wrong?
Someone kidnapped Mary and my folks. He reset the voicemail and handed Marvin the
phone. Pay attention to the background.
Sounds like a voice, but I cant make it out.
My read too, agreed Jack. He paused. The kidnappers expect me to shut down the Project
Unity investigation. They dont realize I cant do what they want, but they wont know it until the
mission closes, which buys some time for me to accomplish a rescue. My problem, I dont know
how much time.
Whats your plan?
The key is the garbled background voice, which requires sophisticated sound equipment for
isolation. Everyone I know will be obligated to shut me down until they complete the recovery
mission, which spells doom for my family.
Can I call Bernie Gold?
Marvins request gave birth to a ray of hope. Dont mention the warhead recovery mission.
Marvin closed the call with Bernie. He thinks they can help.
Lets go.

CHAPTER 60
JPAs op-center
Bernie led Jack and Marvin to the electronic center where Jimmy the Geek greeted them. He
downloaded the voicemail from Jacks phone to the computers mainframe to work on the sound
file.
I have a fresh pot of coffee in my office, said Bernie. Lets give Jimmy the isolation he
needs to concentrate on the job.
They waited in relative silence with casual and minimal conversation. Jack locked his eyes on
the wall clock. Each minute felt like an hour and boosted his anxiety level.
Ten minutes into the wait, Jack bolted from his chair to the sound of Jimmys voice on the
intercom. Ive made some progress Jack and need your help.
Talk to me. said Jack on his return.
I washed out the voice that delivered your ultimatum, which leaves the background noise.
The words remained indiscernible, so Jack focused on the sounds. A womans high-pitched
crying stood out. He sensed the fear in his mothers sounds and fought to keep his anger in check.
Jack closed his eyes to concentrate on the recording. There, he blurted to the sound of an
unfamiliar voice. Hes the one we need.
Tricky, but well get it for you, said Jimmy. He resumed his assault on the keyboard.
After several minutes, Jimmy isolated the voice, which needed additional work to be of use.
When satisfied, he engaged the speech recognition software and printed three copies of the onesided conversation.

to my cabin in Idlewild about two hoursten-four.

Good job Jimmy, said Jack. We need to figure out Idlewilds location.
Beside the original name of JFK airport, I found four other possibilities, said Jimmy. Check
the big screen.
All heads turned to the large monitor.
Well, I think we can eliminate Michigan, mused Jack. Its well beyond the two hour
range.
I feel the same about Lake Tahoe and the Oregon border, said Bernie.
Makes sense, which leaves us one choice, said Jack. How will we locate them in the
Bakersfield area?
Josh covers the area, and hes in the house, said Jimmy.
Youre right, said Bernie. Hes here for a meeting tomorrow, Ill get him.
Bernie introduced them to the thirtyish, athletic man with dark hair. Josh fit the mold of a field
agent, which gave Jack a high degree of comfort. He briefed him on his problem and the missions
status.
I can have a man on site in three hours, he said. Print out a map and the mission particulars
to fax him and Ill get him on the road.
Jack hoped for a better timeline, but was thankful for a positive result.
Josh checked the map printout from Jimmy. Huh, he grunted. This is odd. Bernie, do you
remember Jerry Stein?
He nodded. Jerry retired a couple of years ago. He was one of our best ever field men.

In my opinion, the best, said Josh. He took me under his wing and taught me the business.
Anyway, a year ago I spent a weekend with him, and his area has the same name as your target
locale.
Lake Tahoe or the Oregon border?
Neither Jack, he lives in the mountains outside of Riverside, California.
The only audible sounds in the room were the cooling fans of the electronics.
Jimmy broke the silence. It didnt come up in the computer search, are you sure?
Im positiveoh, hold onIm sorry, the spelling is differentnot your target.
Lets enter the name and check the result.
For certainty, Josh retrieved the address on his iphone. Jimmy entered Idyllwild to the
keyboard. Ill be damned. He zoomed out the picture and verified the proximity to Riverside.
Jacks excitement skyrocketed, but he needed one more fact for certainty. Josh, whats your
drive time estimate between Idyllwild and the north end of La Jolla?
With no traffic delaysa couple of hoursmaybe a bit more.
Brilliant guys, said Jack. Do you use a travel agency Bernie? I need the first available flight
to Riverside and a rental car. Since I cant take weapons on the flight, can I get what I need from
your people?
Give me a few minutes, said Bernie as he signaled for Josh to follow.
They returned in twenty minutes.
One of our benefactors corporate jets will fly you to Riverside and wait for you to complete
your mission. They need three hours to assemble a crew and fuel the plane. With no security to
clear, you can take whatever weapons you need. Josh called Jerry, and hell meet your flight to take
you to his house. He locked eyes with Marvin. You remember our local airports location?
Yes I do.
I dont know how to thank you, said Jack.
Just rescue your family, said Bernie. And in the process, mete out some justice, all the
thanks we need.

CHAPTER 61
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
General Sholtz entered a four-digit access code to the keypad for op-room three. The left of two
large screens displayed a close-up image of a large yacht.
Whatcha got Andy?
A positive ID on Monkey Business, he said. Tiffanys hard at work on their location and
route.
Sholtz dropped his head and focused his eyes on the Logistics Technicians workstation.
Forgive me for not noticing you Tiffany. The reduced light level in these windowless rooms gives
me fits, takes these old eyes a few minutes to adjust.
No problem General, our young eyes deal with the same issue.
Thank you for understanding.
She reacted to a computer tone. Here we gonorth of Port Saidwell below their
horizontwenty-six knots on a due-east heading.
Sholtz shook his head, frustrated. Is there any logic we can employ to make the case for a
Port Said destination?
Negative sir, they needed to change course several hours ago, said Tiffany.
The yachts unexpected route presented an unknown scenario for which they were unprepared
an epic disaster. How in the hell did we miss this? What is their mission? Did they acquire the
warhead this morning before we located them?
Sholtz pointed at a dot on the zoomed-out right side screen. Check it out.
Tiffany worked her keyboard with a fury. The sat-cam made an aspect change and zoomed in
on the object.
A fishing trawler with a Syrian registry flag, she said.
Tiffanys response jogged Sholtzs memory to something Jack said at the OBanions meeting.
The Jihadist head of their operation lived in Damascus. A spark of hope welled in the Generals
chest. See if theyre on an intercept course with the yacht.
She returned to the keyboard and waited for the calculation. No sir, theyll cross behind the
yacht.
Hope faded, and forced Sholtz to pursue the next step of logic. Given their current heading,
whats their destination?
A rapid keyboard entry returned a quick reply, Israel.
The answer confirmed his worst fear. How much time?
Nine hours at max speed, she said.
We need to notify them, said Andy.
I agree, but lets take a half-hour to review this and be certain we havent missed something.
With nothing new uncovered, Sholtz watched the clock tick to his deadline. Make the call
Andy.
Andy nodded and reached for the phone; stopped cold by Tiffanys excited voice. A change
of speedtheyre slowingdead stop on the trawlers headingtwenty minutes to intercept.
Anticipation swelled in the silent room.

The trawler eased alongside the yacht and transferred a wooden crate to the yachts deck.
With the delivery completed, Monkey Business turned south and increased speed.
The package matches the intels description, said Sholtz. Were in business if they steer in
the right direction.
They are at full speed on a heading for Port Said and the Suez Canal, announced Tiffany. I
have their preliminary eta in Ormara at five days.
The warheads delivery by the Syrian trawler answered Jacks question about the weapons
transport and reinforced Sholtzs confidence in the scenario. The Russians, a Syrian ally, provided
air transport from Cuba to Damascus.
Sholtzs tension drained. I hope we never experience anything like this again, he said.
Lets not lose sight of them for a second Andy. Use the drones to cover any voids in the satellite
coverage.
Already set up Sir.

CHAPTER 62
Idyllwild, California
The white Learjet sank into the yellowish-brown pall that smothered the San Gabriel Valley. They
touched down on a small, private airstrip in the foothills of the San Jacinto Mountains, and taxied to
the lone vehicle parked beside the runway. A lean man with short, grey hair exited the beige
Toyota Land Cruiser.
Jack used his shirtsleeves to dry his burning eyes. The smog is terrible today. Hell, I can taste
it.
Normal this time of year, said Jerry. Well climb above it in ten or fifteen minutes.
Thanks for your help Jerry.
I know what it means to lose a loved one, he said. When Josh explained your problem, I
couldnt say no.
As promised, the ugly brown layer gave way to a welcome bright-blue sky and relief from the
eye irritation.
So, what led you to my little corner of the world Jack?
Nothing concrete, he said, but the intel suggested it, and my gut agreed.
Im glad you believe in instincts, because mine have a possibility for you.
The unexpected lead from Jerry surprised Jack and sent a tingle through his body. What have
you got?
Jerry steered the Land Rover into the parking lot of the general store.
Earlier today, I picked up a few items. A young clerk from the grocery side interrupted my
checkout for the owner to verify authenticity of four one-hundred dollar bills. He was thrilled with
the large purchase, but it raised a flag for me. Nobody pays these outrageous prices for an extended
stay; they bring their food with them.
I finished my checkout and magazine browsed to satisfy my curiosity. A muscular man with
a distinctive military look pulled two full grocery carts to a black Suburban and kick started my gut
instinct.
Jack was ready to explode. He understood why Josh held Jerrys field abilities in high regard.
You have my full attention.
I followed at a safe distance and lost sight of him on the roads curvy section, but dust from
the gravel road gave away his turnoff.
A deep breath calmed Jacks excitement. Where does the road go?
Access to vacation homes, said Jerry.
How far in?
With six mailboxes at the turnoffmy best guessa mile, said Jerry.
Lets check it out.
Jerry turned onto the gravel access road and drove at a slow, steady pace. To avoid suspicion,
they showed little interest in the second house from the main roada log cabin style home with a
wooden deck across the front and a black Suburban backed in facing the gravel road. Jerry pulled
into the driveway of the unoccupied sixth and final house at the end of the access road.
They waited twenty-minutes to create the impression of a property inspection for a weekend
rental and used the time to analyze their intel.
Two items supported the log cabin occupants as the kidnappers. The black, full-sized

Suburban with limo-tinted windows came straight from the mercenarys handbook, and the grocery
purchase, which indicated a late arrival and matched the kidnap timeline.
One point glared in opposition, no sign of a sentrystandard procedure for a kidnap mission.
Were they that cocksure no one knew their location?
Jack lacked the required intel to either confirm or eliminate them as the kidnap crew, which
forced a risky decision to recon the log cabin.

CHAPTER 63
Jerry steered the Toyota from the main road to a clearing designated for the Jackrabbit Trailhead
parking. The trail paralleled the log cabins access road and the dense forest allowed unfettered
access for the recon.
Jack attached the silencer to his Sig and slipped the pistol into the fag bag on his midsection.
He strapped the black special-ops knife to his thigh.
At the estimated distance, he turned south from the trail into the forest. A slight adjustment
brought him to the edge of a clearing twenty feet from the cabins north side with a view to the
interior through a large window.
A door on the back wall with an oversize deadbolt stirred his adrenaline to life. He eased to
his left for a different angle of view and froze when the deadbolt door opened. A man with short,
brown hair and a definite mercenary look stepped out and closed the door behind him. With the
deadbolt snapped into the casing, he disposed of three paper plates and crumpled napkins.
Jacks chest pounded as the scenario came together. He needed verification, but his
confidence was high.
The merc moved to the front of the cabin and the sounds of an action movie blared to life, an
unexpected benefit.
Jack zigzagged east through the trees past the clearing in the rear of the cabin, then south until
in line with the dead bolted doors room. With no visible activity, he beat a quick path across the
clearing.
The closed mini-blind denied visual access to the room. He waited for a loud action sequence
to mask two taps on the window with the tip of his knife.
With no response to the high-pitched clicks of metal on glass, his hope faded. Poised for a
final attempt, the blinds rotated open. The stress on Marys face gave way to relief. She showed
three fingers to inform Jack of the kidnappers count, and he responded with a thumb up. Seated on
the bed, Art held his mother close with a thick, strong arm and flashed an OK sign with his free
hand. Satisfied with their safety, Jack blew Linda a kiss and returned to the forest.
He slid into the passenger seat. I found them Jerry. Thank you for the great call.
Glad it worked out, he said.
Lets go to your place. I need an attack plan and have damn little time to develop one. This
ends today.

CHAPTER 64
Jerrys home was large in comparison to the access road cabins. The spaciousness and masculine
dcor made Jack feel at home. He settled into a brown leather chair to work on an attack strategy
while his host put on a pot of coffee.
Anything yet? said Jerry.
Jack chuckled. I want this to end so much, my first thought was to bust in guns blazing.
Didnt take long to realize the plan amounted to suicide.
Count me in, said Jerry. Two guns are better than one.
Not gonna happen my friend, said Jack. This is a high-risk assault, and youve been out of
action for two years. Your rustiness will increase the risk for both of us.
Im driving, said Jerry, which is not open to discussion.
How the hell will we all fit in your Toyota?
I have a Voyager minivan in the garage.
Jack dropped his chin to his chest. Alright, you win, but only if you agree to stay with the
van.
I promise, he said as the sound of the finishing coffee pot drew him to the kitchen.
Jack worked his brain for ideas until Jerry handed him a mug of coffee. He took a sip as an
idea surfaced. We need a diversion to draw them from the cabin and give me an initial advantage,
which will help level the playing field.
An explosion! he said. Ill be right back.
Jerry returned with a dusty, canvas tote and a small toolbox. He fished out a red, round object
three inches in diameter and tossed it to Jack.
Let me guessthe worlds largest cherry bomb.
Not quite, put your ops knife to work and cut it in half.
Jack dug the claylike material from both halves of the waxy outer coating and kneaded a
single mass. Almost no smell, he said, Semtex?
Very good, said Jerry.
Where the hell did you get this?
Left over from a job ten years ago, said Jerry.
Ten years old! said Jack. Whats the shelf life of this shit?
I didnt know, so I melted down every candle in the house for a coating to seal out the air, its
still pliable.
The most critical mission of Jacks life depended on an out-of-date plastic explosive. Jerry was
right about the pliability, but how did it relate to the potency. Might not flash at all and leave him
with his balls in the wind. The uncertainty overwhelmed him, but with little choice, he continued.
How do we detonate it?
Ah, the fun part, said Jerry. He grinned as he retrieved a metal box the size of a VHS tape
from the tote and slid the top open to expose the inner workings. This is your diversion creator and
this He removed what looked like a garage door opener from the box. is your remote
detonator.
Is it ten years old too?
Jerry pulled an assortment of batteries from his shirt pocket. How bout a trial run. With a
positive test result, he installed the Semtex to complete the setup.

Jack put the box and trigger in his weapons tote then settled in the leather chair to finish his
coffee. He chuckled, You seem to enjoy this bomb stuff Jerry.
Not particularly.
The negative reply caught Jack off guard. Im sorry. I misread you, a usual strong suit for
me.
Youre closer than you think, said Jerry. He felt he owed Jack an explanation. I took a
leave of absence when my wife fell ill. Our daily contact made me realize the negative effect my
job placed on our relationship, and I blamed the JPA. I resigned in bitterness after she passed, with
a hatred for them and their business.
My conversation with Josh last night gave me pause to think. His request didnt benefit them
at all. An epiphany slapped me in the face. They werent to blame for my relationship issues. I
made the decisions to accept the missions and understood how much I enjoyed the work. I liked the
overall missions, not just the bomb making.
Pleased his newfound friend worked his way through a major negative in his life, Jack hoped
for a positive outlook for Jerry going forward. Are you ready for some fun?
Lets go get your family.

CHAPTER 65
Jacks approach kept the Suburban in line with the front of the cabin. He switched on Jerrys
explosive device, pivoted the black rubber antenna down, and clicked the magnetic box in place on
the SUVs undercarriage.
A roundabout path through the dense forest returned him to his first vantage point of the
earlier recon. The engaged deadbolt on the hostage rooms door assured him of Mary and his folks
safety from the point of attack.
At the cabins front corner, Jack checked the empty full-length walkway to the sound of an
action movie. The critical element of surprise remained intact.
He tugged at the bottom of the undersized body armor Jerry gave him. The pullover vest
lacked full coverage for his larger body, but he appreciated the minimal protection.
Jack verified the chambered round in his Sig and clicked the remote trigger to the on position.
He pointed it around the corner at the Suburban and pressed the igniter button.
His worst fear became a reality, nothing happened. Jerrys outdated Semtex did not ignite.
With certainty, Mary and his folks expectations matched his driven desire for a rescue today,
but his plan had stalled.
The in vain search for an alternate diversion elevated Jacks frustration until a concept
surfaced and returned his thoughts to the original plan. If the high angle dictated by his location
blocked the line of sight for the triggers signal, a lower angle might work. He surveyed the area for
an alternate attack position.
A pile of the larger rocks excavated when they cleared the lot for construction was stacked
three feet from the walkways corner. The signal sent from ground level solved the line of sight
issue, and if successful, the rock pile afforded him protection from the blast.
Satisfied with the diversion aspect, Jack recognized a major drawback in the revised plan. His
position of attack from the cabin walls relative safety moved to the end of the walkway where the
skimpy wooden railing exposed him to return fire.
Jack reviewed the new plan, and with no option, assumed a prone position behind the rock
pile to activate the remote trigger. He prayed the Semtex ignited.
Did you use enough dynamite Butch? flashed to mind when the Semtex exploded at full
strength. The two-ton SUVs front-end heaved in the air as the hood wrapped over the windshield.
The cabins windows imploded into the front room.
Jack rolled to the walkway and crouched on his knees behind the railing. A Paul Bunyan
sized man burst onto the walkway followed by a smaller merc. Both carried automatic weapons
and oozed blood from multiple glass wounds. They quick-scanned the area before they directed
their attention to the destroyed front-end of the Suburban.
With the SUV backed in to unload groceries, Jack gained an unanticipated advantage. His
targets gawked at the detonation site and faced away from him. He rose upright on his knees to
steady his forearms on the railing and squeezed the trigger. A chunk from the rear of Paul Bunyans
skull burst from his head with a spray of blood. He fell forward and crumpled to the deck.
The second man reacted and spun to the obvious source of gunfire. Jack snapped his aim to
the new target and jerked the trigger. The round entered the mans shoulder and accelerated his
spin. Rapid-fire flashes spat from the muzzle of his automatic weapon. Chunks of wood exploded
from the railing. A sledgehammer like blow slammed into the body armor mid torso and a sharp

pain stabbed his side below the undersized vest. He quick fired until his lifeless enemy slumped to
the deck then trained his Sig on the door opening to deal with the final mercenary.
A full two minutes passed with no sign of the third merc. His adrenaline waned from lack of
action, replaced by his wounds intensifying pain. The final obstacle to the recovery of his family
stayed put and forced Jack into a Mexican standoff, the worst possible of scenarios with a frontal
assault certain disaster. If he survived the initial gunfire, his wounds gave him little chance in handto-hand combat against the trained mercenary.
The Suburbans ruptured fuel lines started several small fires, two of concern. The blaze on
the wooden walkway spread to the cabin walls, while black acrid smoke billowed from the interior
of the SUV, only a matter of time before the fuel tanks ignited.
Jack opted to wait for the emergency responders. With the scenes carnage, they would take
him into custody to face prosecution and a certain prison sentence, a price he would pay to save his
family. However, if either blaze reached a critical point before their arrival, he would have to
attempt the frontal assault. He clicked a full magazine into the Sig.
The fires increased in intensity, and his anxiety grew.
We need to talk Jack.
The unexpected voice from the cabin surprised him and offered a glimmer of hope. He needed
a personal touch for an effective conversation with the mercenary.
You know my name. What do I call you?
Gator.
Are the hostages okay?
They are unharmed.
With no choice, he accepted Gators response as the clock ticked down to the arrival of the
firefighters and Sheriffs deputies.
Your quarter Gator, he shouted over the roar of the blazes.
I didnt sign on to this crew to kidnap old folks and pretty women.
Why didnt you walk away?
I didnt want any harm to come to these innocent victims.
He liked what he heard, but did not yet trust the mercenary. Come on out. You know the
drill.
Gator tossed the automatic weapon onto the walkway, followed by his pistol and ops-knife.
He stepped out with his fingers interlocked behind his neck. The house is full of smoke Jack. We
need to get the hostages out.
The update created urgency, but Jacks wounds limited his mobility and forced him to trust
Gator. Make it happen.
Art and Mary led Jacks mother from the cabin, one on each arm. Her blank stare of shock
prompted a signal from Jack for Art to take her to the woods away from the carnage.
Mary wrapped her arms around him and backed away when he grimaced. Wheres your
pain?
I think my ribs are broken.
A closer inspection revealed his blood soaked left side. Jesus Jack youve been shot!
He handed Mary the Sig.
She resisted. You got the bad guys, Gators on our side.
Humor me, he said. She took the weapon.
Gator returned with a packet of Quickclot. He picked up his knife and directed Jack to lie on

his side.
With the shirt cut away to expose the wound, he ripped the packet open with his teeth. Are
you ready?
Jack clenched his jaw and nodded. He let out a muffled groan when Gator dumped the
granules on the wound. With the pain subsided, Jack sat up. Thanks, I worried about a blood trail.
Out of curiosity, how did you avoid the glass wounds?
He grinned. I was in the kitchen on a beer run.
Better to be lucky, said Jack. He extended his right arm. Help me up, the sirens are getting
louder.
Jack led their escape through the trees to Jerry and the minivan.

CHAPTER 66
They showered Gator with thanks when Jerry dropped him at the General Store, which served as
the local Greyhound stop for him to begin his journey home.
Jack brushed off the excess Quickclot granules from his side before he entered the house,
and Jerry appreciated the request for an old towel to protect the furniture in case his bleeding
resumed.
Art thanked Jerry for his drink offer, but his wifes needs took priority. A good night of sleep
would be a major first step in her recovery.
Jerry poured three scotches. Your wound needs professional medical treatment.
No can do, said Jack. The doctor will recognize the gunshot wound and have to notify
local law enforcement.
Not my doctor, said Jerry. He treated our wounded agents for thirty years before he retired
three years ago. I can have him here in an hour.
Jerrys offer forced Jack to reconsider. He assessed his wounds. His rib injury only needed
time to heal, but the gunshot wound was another matter. With infection a certainty if left untreated,
he agreed. Make the call.
Help yourselves to the scotch, said Jerry as he excused himself to prepare for the doctors
arrival.
Jack appreciated Marys attempt to make small talk, but the pain distracted him. The clock
ticked at a snails pace. He checked the elapsed time when the doorbell rang. The fifty-three
minutes felt more like fifty-three hours.
While Jerry introduced Mary to Doc, Jack made a futile attempt to stand.
Relax Jack, said Doc. He cut out a section from the upper arm of Jacks shirt to expose his
deltoid, and then prepared a hypo. This will dull the pain, he said. In a few minutes, we can
move you.
His pain eased as the medication took effect. With Docs help, he extricated himself from the
soft, overstuffed chair and followed to the makeshift operating room. Jack towered over the short,
trim man. His snow-white hair was a painful reminder of Cooper and the unfinished business of his
murder.
Doc cut off the vest and the remainder of his shirt to assess the wounds.
Im convinced the ribs are only bruised Jack, which means a short recovery time. The
gunshot wound, however, needs attention. The bullets path was shallow, but the heavy bleeding
indicates muscle tissue damage. I need to open and clean the wound then stitch the incision closed.
Doc removed his frameless glasses and rubbed his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Youll
need anesthesia.
You cant put me out.
The expected response frustrated him. You field agents all suffer from the same malady,
machismo.
Youre wrong Doc, said Jack. Control is the cornerstone of our survival.
Doc leaned forward and shook his head. Alright, Ill give you a local. Youll still feel pain.
He prepared two hypos.
Whats the second shot Doc?
A mega dose of antibiotics, Ill give you another in the morning and more pain medication.

Get as much rest as possible, its the great healer.

Ill take your advice Doc, said Jack.
Are you ready?

CHAPTER 67
Flight to East Coast
The medication waned, and the increased pain woke Jack at five-thirty AM. Doc checked the
surgical site and gave Jack a nod of approval, then applied antiseptic and a fresh bandage.
Injections of the antibiotic and pain medication completed the procedure.
Youll be good to go in a half-hour when the pain med takes full effect, said Doc. Go to
HQ when you arrive. You need the antibiotic, and you will want the pain med. Ill contact their
doctor with the details of your injuries and medications.
Thanks for the care Doc.
My pleasure Jack.
The smell of sizzling bacon greeted them in the kitchen/dining room.
Damn, he cooks too, said Jack. Youd make a good wife for somebody.
Jerry waved a spatula in response.
Mary snapped her head to the sound of Jacks voice and stood from her chair.
He eased down to kiss her. Good morning.
Her face relaxed and a sparkle flashed in her electricblue eyes. You sure look better than
last night.
You can thank Doc for my improvement.
Mary wrapped her arms around him. Thank you.
Docs face flushed from her unexpected embrace. Youre more than welcome.
Jack sipped his coffee and scanned the room. Are the folks still in bed?
They came out for coffee before their showers, said Mary as she checked the time. I expect
them back anytime.
Hows mom?
Her reaction last night gave me cause for concern, but shes a spitfire this morning, said
Mary. Shes a lot tougher than I realized.
Jack gave a thankful nod as Jerrys voice bellowed from the kitchen.
Im starting the eggs, wheres my toast person?
Mary grinned. Duty calls.
Art entered with his arm extended to Jack. Their beefy hands met with no conversation
required.
His mother kissed his forehead. Whats your prognosis?
A full recovery.
Thank God, and of course Doc.
Mary returned with a message from Jerry. Come and get it.
At cruising altitude, Jack unsnapped his seatbelt to remove the pressure on his incision. The meds
allowed his mind to function, but left enough pain to remind him of his condition. He thanked the
weather gods for a smooth flight.
With Mary and his folks asleep, Jack zeroed in on the issue in need of resolution, where to
stash them. He considered the options one at a time.
His desire to keep Marvin uninvolved with his contacts eliminated his house as an option, but
led to the idea of a local hotel. The analysis dulled the plans initial shine. Their security fell in
Jacks lap and eliminated his freedom to work the mission.

A moment of closed eyes concentration brought Brians name to mind. Though perfect to
provide the needed security, his Miami location worked against him. Jack needed quick access to
Mary and his folks if a problem arose.
He wanted to consider Dog an option, but how would he explain protection given to the
family of a search subject.
With his options exhausted, Jack needed a break and went to the forward galley to fill a mug
from the built-in coffee urn. A knot tightened his gut on his return and drew his eyes to Art. Years
of black ops work taught him to trust his instincts, so he concentrated on Art and labored in thought
until the pieces of the puzzle snapped into place.
Arts relationship (as Old-Timer) with the top-secret Army group gave Jack a way to solicit
Dogs help. He could justify the protection of one of their own if he agreed.
Jack cleared the use of his sat phone with the pilot.
Dog answered on the fourth ring. Sorry it took so long, but I needed privacy. Whats up?
I have a big favor to ask of you.
He hesitated. Ill do what I can.
After Jack explained the kidnap scenario and the need to secure his family, he planted the OldTimer justification seed.
Jesus Jack, youve got your nuts on the block and you want me to join you?
I know, he said. Ill understand if you have to decline.
He hated to give Dog an easy out but had no choice. If Dog felt backed in a corner, he would
balk and tell Jack to go to hell. He clenched his teeth for a do-not-speak reminder and waited for
Dogs decision. He waited, and waited, and wai
Theres one condition I cant live without, said Dog. No one can mention your name or
make any reference to you within earshot of the crew through this process.
Jack relaxed his jaw. The tension flowed from his body. Ill make sure they understand.
Whats your status?
Were in flight.
Whats the aircraft?
Learjet.
Theres a private off-base airstrip we can use. Ill meet your flight with a Huey to transport
them to my op-center. Make sure you stay on the plane, and dont let me see you or Ill have to take
you in custody.
Ten-four, said Jack.
Let me talk to the flight crew to work out the details.
Headed to the cockpit now, said Jack. Thanks for your help Dog. I owe you.
Im walking a tightrope Jack, so keep me updated.

CHAPTER 68
JPAs op-center
Dog waited outside the Huey as the Learjet taxied to a stop. The large, bald man was a welcome
sight to Jack through the planes small cabin window. With Mary and his folks transferred to the
chopper, he put his concern for their safety aside.
The short, bumpy flight to the JPA airstrip aggravated his wounds and pushed his discomfort
to an intolerable level. With the pain meds worn off, he was thankful Doc arranged for follow-up
treatment by the op-centers doctor.
He grimaced as he eased his pained body into the bucket seat of Marvins Beemer. Thanks
for the lift.
My pleasure, he said. Man, you are a mess. Lets get you to the op-center.
Jack nodded. Do me a favor and avoid the potholes.
Bernie waited in front of the Colonial style house. He opened the passenger side door when Marvin
eased the Beemer to a stop. Do you need help?
Jack waved him off. He struggled to pivot in the bucket seat and place both feet on the
driveway. After two vain attempts to extricate his body from the Beemer, he extended his arm for
assistance.
Marvin escorted him to the infirmary room and helped him to sit on the exam table.
An attractive woman entered. Thanks for the delivery of our patient.
Youre welcome, said Marvin.
Despite his discomfort, the warm smile on Marvins face did not escape Jacks notice.
Her long, dark ponytail swung across the back of the white smock when she pivoted toward
Jack. A step brought her face-to-face with him. Hello Jack, Im Brenda.
Pleased to meet you, he grimaced.
She read the notes from her earlier conversation with Doc and removed his shirt. With the
wound treated and a fresh bandage applied, Brenda updated Jack. Looks good, Doc did a great
job.
Sure as hell doesnt feel great.
You cant expect a miracle in one day Jack. The medication needs time to work and bed rest
to maximize the effectiveness.
How much time?
Youll see major improvement by tomorrow if you agree to my treatment.
Spell it out for me.
Ill give you the same meds and dosages Doc gave you plus a sedative.
No sedative, he said. I dont want to lose control.
Its not a knockout drug Jack, just lets your body determine how much rest you need.
I dont think so.
Brenda spun her head and locked eyes with Marvin, a cue for him to jump into the
conversation.
Cmon Jack, you need to speed up the healing process. Do what Brenda says.
Who in the hells side are you on?
There are no sides Jack. We both want the best for you. I cancelled my appointments so I
could be home tomorrow.

I will not take the damned sedative, spat Jack.

Brenda delivered her ultimatum, Ill give you the antibiotic, but if you refuse the sedative you
wont get the pain meds.
Jack swelled with anger. He hated his need for the medication. Alright, you win, he snarled.
I dont care much for your tactics though.
She smiled. Ill see you at Marvins tomorrow for a follow-up. You can thank me then.

CHAPTER 69
Vienna, Virginia
Jack sat on the edge of the bed, groggy and confused, half-asleep. He shook his head to clear the
cobwebs. The nightstand clock showed eleven, and the soft glow of light through the window
blinds put it in the AM. Not certain what time Brendas sedative put him down; he estimated his
sleep duration at an unbelievable sixteen hours. He needed a hot shower to complete his wakeup
and rid him of the sleep hangoverthat and a gallon of strong coffee.
He interrupted a warm conversation when he joined Marvin and Brenda at the pedestal table.
Well, Jack lives and breathes, said Marvin and handed him a large mug filled with steamy
black nectar.
Ahhhhmanna from heaven, said Jack.
Hows our patient today? asked Brenda.
Much better, he said. Thank you for your persistence on the sedative. Andwhile I have
the floor, I want to apologize to both of you for being a jerk last night.
Brenda chuckled. Not a problem, Im used to the field agent mentality, youre all alike.
Jack nodded. Whats on tap for today?
Ill treat the incision and put on a fresh bandage, then give you the final two injections. The
antibiotic and the
Ill pass on the pain shot, interrupted Jack. I dont want to get strung out on the crap.
Great, she said and slid a small box across the table. Apply the ointment and a fresh
bandage every day until the incision heals. Follow the directions on the antibiotic and take them all.
Use the pain meds as needed.
With Jacks treatment completed, Brenda scooted her chair from the table. I suppose I should
get on the road. Can I use your bathroom?
Marvin gave her directions. His eyes followed until the door clicked closed.
Damn bud, I believe you are moonstruck.
A tinge of red filled Marvins cheeks. I like her a lot, but I dont think she feels the same.
Man, you are blind when it comes to women. When she bats her big browns at you, they turn
into puppy dog eyes.
Oh, I dont know Jack.
Jesus, he blurted, you cant let this cutie get away without taking a shot. Offer to take her
to lunch today. If she turns you down, at least youll know where you stand.
Brenda returned, and Marvin offered to walk her to her car, a positive sign. The revival of her
puppy dog look convinced Jack Marvins success was a lock if he didnt chicken out.
Jack settled on the leather sofa and called Bailey for a mission update. The status quo
remained on schedule. With no surprises, Vengador would deliver the warhead to Ormara in three
days. Bailey agreed to call with updates.
Twenty minutes passed and convinced Jack Brenda agreed to the lunch date. With dead quiet
in the house and a touch of residual sedative in his system, he faded into light sleepnot for long.
His eyes snapped open, jolted wide-awake. The kidnap crew identified him as the source who
uncovered Project Unity. His frenetic thoughts swirled and led to confusion.
Relocated to the pedestal table with fresh caffeine, he worked the problem in a logical
sequence and drew a conclusion. He needed to identify the person who hired the mercenaries for

the kidnap job.

Jack paced in deep thought and searched for a candidate who knew his family and a possible
involvement with Project Unity. An improbable name came to mind, Carlos.
His thoughts returned to the embedded text where Chicago, minus the chemical symbol for
silver (Ag), produced the name Chico, a Carlos tag name. Dismissed as a coincidence at the time,
he was not as positive now.
The original interpretation of Vengador as a Spanish terrorist cell gave way to the English
translation, Avenger, an apropos codename for Carlos.
Jack filled his coffee mug and resettled at the pedestal table to review his analysis.
Though his logic created a Carlos involvement, he could not quite wrap his head around the
scenario. He last saw Carlos in Grand Cayman where four drug cartel thugs snatched him from the
sidewalk. Nobody considered survival a viable option.
He dismissed Carlos as a candidate until a final bit of data surfaced. A few years ago, he
visited Jack at his folks in La Jolla. Carlos knew their address.
Twenty years of black ops fieldwork taught him all things are possible. If anyone possessed
the ability to wiggle out of a dire predicament with the cartel, Carlos filled the bill.
Convinced Carlos, (codename Vengador), ran the mercenary group who worked with the
Jihadists and executed the kidnapping to force Jack to drop their missions exposure, Jacks blood
ran cold.
He needed an action plan, but a problem existed. Jacks conclusion, based on supposition,
would lack support from his contacts. Protocol demanded proof, and he had none.

CHAPTER 70
Yesterdays inactivity benefited Jacks recovery, but pushed his frustration to the breaking point.
He hated where this mission took him, back in time to the black ops mindset he fought to put
behind him. His loved ones kidnapping forced the final step in his journey to the black hole of his
past. The lack of an action plan stood in sharp contrast to the black ops paradigm and ate at him like
a virus.
Jack slumped in the chair and sipped the acrid coffee in disgust.
An hour later, the caller ID on his sat-phone snapped him upright with a sign of promise. A
deep breath calmed his adrenaline rush enough to answer, Good morning Bailey.
Hello Jack, how are you?
Bored, he said. Did you call with a mission update?
No, he said. I called to tell you we located Danny Hunter.
Jacks brow furrowed. Who the hell is Danny Hunter?
Im sorry. With everything going on, I guess I forgot to tell you about him.
Well, tell me now.
He trained under Cooper for a month before the car bomb incident and fell off the planet the
next day. I put a surveillance team on his apartment and he showed last night. Theyll stay on him
for a few days to see who he contacts before they bring him in.
Jesus Bailey, blurted Jack. He might be the key to who killed Cooper. I need to talk to
him.
I cant let you Jack.
Why the hell not? he spat. Hes our one lead, and we need to act before the trail turns
cold.
Bailey paused, reluctant. HR assigned Hunter to Cooper at the Presidents request.
The President? said Jack. He sank in thought. Makes you wonder, does his interest in the
trainee relate to his directive to locate me?
No clue, said Bailey, but we cant let this blow up in our faces.
At an impasse, Jack needed to push the conversation in his direction. Theres something you
need to know, he said. I rescued Mary and my folks from kidnappers who took them to force me
to drop my involvement in Project Unity.
He hoped the teaser pushed Bailey in his direction.
How did they know to kidnap them to put pressure on you? oh shit, you know who set it
up dont you Jack?
I need proof to divulge the identity, and youre in control of the one lead within our grasp.
Why should I put my career on the line to question a trainee?
To learn the truthto uncover the terrorist groupto find out who killed our friend.
I need to think about this.
Cant wait Bailey, said Jack. When they recover the warhead, theyll clamp a tight lid on
the mission to make it disappearnever existed. At best, I figure we have a couple of days to root
out the truth.
Might take us where we dont want to go Jack, where we cant do anything.
I concur, but at least well know the truth.
If I agree to this, you need to promise me youll go easy on Danny. I dont need the White

House on my ass.
No time for subtlety Bailey. Ill put the fear of God in him, but I wont lay a finger on him.
Okay Jack, Ill call Eagle Eye and authorize your involvement. Expect a call from him in a
few minutes.

CHAPTER 71
Baltimore, Maryland
Jack followed Eagle Eyes directions and parked across from the Saltbox, a local caf two blocks
from the waterfront. A man, wearing a blue baseball cap backwards, drank coffee at a small
sidewalk table abutted to the cafs shingled fascia. He rotated the cap to face the bill forward as
Jack crossed the street.
Take a seat Jack, he said as he filled a mug with welcome steamy coffee.
Jack obliged and with the amenities complete, Eagle Eye wasted no time. Whats your plan?
If I put something together with our boy, Ill need him sequestered while my operation goes
down.
No problem.
He nodded. If I succeed, Ill give you a thumb up when I leave. Otherwise, maintain your
surveillance.
Inside the caf, Jack identified Danny Hunter from Eagle Eyes recent surveillance photo. He
swung his leg over the back of the chair to face the chubby man. Posture erect, he leaned in with
both hands on the table. Good morning Danny.
Startled, Hunters eyes popped wide-open as fear crept onto his face.
The reaction gave Jack a confidence boost. Whats the matter Danny, cat got your tongue?
Uncertain, he forced a reply, Who are you? How do you know my name?
Much better, said Jack. I need information from you, and I want it now.
He straightened in his chair. I dont know you and wont tell you a thing.
The sudden about-face surprised Jack but did not deter him. By no means was Danny a
trained field agent. He would fold like a four-flusher under pressure.
Let me explain your situation in terms you can understand. Your future lies in my hands, and
you need to co-operate with me.
Dannys false front evaporated. He curled into as close to a fetal position as his chubbiness
allowed in the cafs wooden chair. I want an attorney.
Jesus man, you dont get it, snapped Jack. You have no rights. I dont represent anybody
but myself, which makes me judge, jury, and executioner. Cooper was my friend, and if you dont
help me find his killer, Ill put you down like a rabid dog. Now sit your ass up in the chair like a
man so we can discuss this.
Jack pushed his threats as far as he dared. A call from Bailey relating an irate conversation
with the White House could well be the result. For Baileys sake, as well as his own, he hoped not,
but he needed to know where they stood.
With no response, Jack changed his tactics. How do you know the President Danny?
Reynolds? What makes you think I know him?
Because he assigned you to Cooper for your training, said Jack.
I dont know anything about it.
Jacks confusion matched the look on Dannys face. He believed him, but how could Baileys
intel be wrong?
Dannys input raised a new concern and resolved a previous issue. With no anticipation of an
angry call to Bailey from the White House, he could pressure him with no fear of reprisal.
Why did you disappear after they killed Cooper?

He dropped his chin to his chest in silence.

Dont pass on the one opportunity you have to explain your involvement, said Jack.
Resigned, he sat erect. Okay, Ill tell you. I sent the e-mail to them with Coopers schedule
and location on the day he died. I didnt know they planned to kill him, but it looked bad for me.
An understatement, said Jack. Who did you send the e-mail to?
His name is Vengador.
Dannys link to Carlos stunned Jack and spurred him on. He swallowed hard for the
composure to milk the intel from him.
How did you hookup with these bad boys?
My cousin made the arrangements. He resigned the Army after his second tour of duty in
Afghanistan. The reduction in our military presence denied him a third tour, so he looked for work
in the private sector. He met a military type at a nearby waterfront bar, and the CIA came up in
their conversation. The mention of my employment start date at the Agency piqued an interest and
Vengador called to set a meeting in the banquet room here for privacy.
Give me his description.
Six foottwo hundred poundsmuscularHispanic with a shaved head.
Dannys description could easily fit Carlos. He fought for self-control. How did he convince
you to help?
He told me the Agency hired him as a contractor to investigate Cooper, a suspected double
agent. My assignment to him for training allowed me to advise them of his schedule and odd
behavior. I was thrilled to serve my country.
Of course, said Jack. How many times have you seen him since the incident?
Zero and I want no contact with him again.
I have to locate Vengador, and need your help. Call him and tell him youre on the lam, and
you need money for living expenses to stay off the Agencys radar.
Not a chance, spat Danny. Theres nothing you can say to convince me.
Jack wanted him to make the call without reverting to the badass attitude. Look man, he
said, I can get you off the hook for this, but you have a problem. Langley will never buy your
story if you refuse to co-operate with me to bring this asshole to justice. Theyll bury you so deep
youll never see the sun again, which is not how I want this to end for you.
Danny lowered his head and moved it from side to side. You dont leave me much choice,
he said as he flipped open his cell phone.
The conversation was short and productive. Vengador would arrange the delivery for
tomorrow and call him later today with the details.

CHAPTER 72
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
The Predators video feed displayed a centered close up of the yacht Monkey Business on the
right-hand big screen in the dark, windowless op-room. They remained on course with no change
of speed.
Andy stared at the monitor and blinked his eyes to cope with the boredom. Video static lines
crackled as the satellite came into range and drew his attention to the left-hand screen. The sat-view
displayed a distant image of the target yacht surrounded by a vast expanse of blue water. He
followed procedure and checked the zoomed-out image for unusual activity. His arm snapped to
the upper right corner.
Zoom in on the red dot Tiff.
The sat-cams aspect changed and zoomed in on a small, red ocean racer with three men on
board.
She keyed in instructions to the computer. Man, they are moving, andtheyre on an
intercept course with our target.
Andy punched four digits to the wall phone.
What have you got Andy? asked General Sholtz as he adjusted his eyes to the op-rooms dim
light.
An unexpected problem Sir. He pointed to the red boat on the left-hand screen.
Shit, said Sholtz, Somalian pirates.
My read too Sir.
Which feed are they on?
The satellite.
Of course, we couldnt get the easy one.
The acquisition of the warhead by Somalian pirates was an unimaginable disaster on many
fronts. With but one course of action to negate the threat, Sholtz needed quick answers to assess the
feasibility.
He barked out tasks. Andy, connect us to the field controller on a secure line. Tiffany, plot
the quickest intercept course for the Predator to the pirates boat and compute the elapsed time
required. I also need the elapsed time for the pirates boat to reach our targets horizon view.
Sholtz took the sat phone from Andy to ask the critical question. Is the Predator armed?
We have a Stinger armament package.
The answer eased his anxiety with his planned response now possible, but dependant on other
factors.
Whats your name soldier?
They call me Gameboy.
He smiled at the apropos tag name and continued, This is General Sholtz with an addendum
to the mission. My log-tech is sending you the routing and destination details as we speak. He
signaled approval to Tiffany. I need you to compute your fuel requirements based on maximum
speed to the destination and advise me of the status ASAP. Ill stay on the line. While he waited
for Gameboys data, he asked Tiffany for his requested numbers.

Forty-two minutes to the horizon view, and thirty-three minutes for the Predator intercept,
she reported.
Damn, nine minutes and shrinking. No margin for error, thought Sholtz
General.
Go Gameboy.
Were close Sir, but my software indicates three minutes short on fuel, which means I cant
execute the mission.
Hell, we burned up three minutes to get the answer, he blared. His thoughts swirled and a
solution surfaced. Did you include the ten-minute fuel reserve in your calculations?
No Sir, that authorization requires a much higher pay grade than mine.
I sanction use of the fuel reserve and give you a direct order to initiate the mission. Well
reconnect in thirty-minutes.
Ten-four Sir.
Sholtz stretched as the tension drained from his body. He directed Tiffany to delay the sat-cam
retask to Monkey Business until the Predator arrived.
Lets get a cup of coffee Andy.
They settled in the break room across the hall.
Good job spotting the pirates Andy.
He beamed. Thank you Sir.
Were not out of the woods yet. Our success window is three-minutes if the numbers are spot
on, which is too close for comfort.
I dont understand Sir. We can take out the pirates well before they reach the yacht.
True Andy, but we need to complete the mission below the yachts horizon, out of sight and
earshot.
Theyll see the smoke.
Can be caused by any number of things, he said, but if they witness the attack their spook
odds will increase ten-fold.
They finished their coffee in silence and returned to the op-room.
Tiffany recalculated the numbers and updated Sholtz. Ten minutes remained for the Predators
arrival with a two-minute horizon differential.
The tight timeline and the knot in his gut forced a reassessment. His ninety-percent certainty of
the red boats pirate status put the collateral damage odds at ten-percent and nagged him. He asked
Tiffany to reconfirm their intercept course with the yacht to verify his attack decision.
All eyes locked on the Predators screen as the red dot appeared in the distance. Sholtz took
the sat-phone from Andy and updated Gameboy, Three minutes.
The red dot grew into a speeding ocean racer as the Predator approached. Sholtz signaled
Tiffany to retask the sat-cam. Thirty long seconds remained. All eyes locked on the screen as
Monkey Business came to view.
Sholtz issued the attack order, Take them out.
The Stinger missile snaked to a direct, dead-center impact. The destruction was complete and
immediate. Thick, black smoke replaced the flames in the debris field.
Good job Gameboy, bring your Predator home in economy mode.
Ten-four General, over and out.
No change in course or speed Sir, said Tiffany.
Thank God, said Sholtz as he eased into a chair. How much longer do we need to baby-sit

these bastards?
Tiffany smiled. Twenty-eight hours Sir.

CHAPTER 73
Baltimore, Maryland
The Saltbox cafe
Jack met Danny and Eagle Eye at a coffee shop three blocks from the Saltbox to finalize the
meetings details. They addressed the key issues essential for a successful result, a positive
verification of the deliveryman and adequate time to plant Jacks tracker on his vehicle. At the
designated time, they staggered their departures to avoid the appearance of a connection.
Jack arrived at the Saltbox first, his cotton brimmed hat pulled tight to avoid recognition. He
selected a table with a clear view of the predetermined seating area.
Ten minutes later, the waiter delivered a mug and a thermal carafe to Eagle Eye in the outside
front area.
Danny entered and settled at a rear table positioned to keep the deliverymans back to the
cafs front and the street.
After several minutes of quiet, mounting tension, a black Suburban with dark tinted side
windows pulled curbside in front of the caf.
The driver, a muscular man with a distinct military appearance, entered and scanned the cafs
front area.
Jack entered the ID confirmation codeword to a text message then placed his thumb on the
send button. With no positive ID verification, he hesitated. His thumb twitched with indecision as
Dannys voice rang out.
Over here, he called out, in the back.
He sent the message; thankful Danny bought them several precious seconds.
When BINGO displayed on Eagle Eyes phone, he spun his baseball cap to activate his man
in wait at the adjacent bus stop. Eagle Eye stood and stretched to block the line of sight from the
caf as his man clicked the magnetic tracker to the Suburbans undercarriage.
With the delivery complete, Jack followed the exit strategy. He waited five minutes to execute
a casual departure with no contact or recognition of his teammates.
He trailed the SUV by several minutes and relied on the trackers signal for an accurate
follow.
After a half-hour, the Suburban stopped in a quiet, waterfront neighborhood of older, wellmaintained homes across Chesapeake Bay from Baltimore.
The wide, large lots allowed space for privacy between the houses, ideal for Jacks purpose.
Parked on the gravel driveway of a detached single-car garage, the Suburban marked Vengadors
op-house. He passed the shingled saltbox style house at a slow, steady unsuspicious speed.
With sufficient intel from the quick recon to plan his return visit tonight, Jack returned to
Marvins house.

CHAPTER 74
Ormara, Pakistan
Monkey Business docked in Ormara, visible from separate feeds on the big-screens in op-room
three. Sholtz and Belson designated the satellite to track the warhead, while the Predator maintained
visual contact of the yacht.
As dusk set in, a tan, windowless panel van stopped at the entrance to the complex of docks.
Three men exited, two wore khaki military uniforms and side arms.
The ISI rogues, thought Sholtz. Our scenario is right on point.
They pushed one of the docks four-wheel supply carts to the yacht berthed at the deepwater
end of the complex. The crew wrestled the heavy crate onto the cart for transfer to the van.
We wrote the script for this mission, Sholtz mused, comfortable with the scenario.
Sholtz returned from the restroom and froze in his tracks at the unexpected sight on the
Predator-cams screen.
They berthed the yacht at the closed fuel dock, said Tiffany. I asked a Pakistani contact to
check their business hours. They open at midnight to service the long-range fishing trawlers.
The curse continues, said Sholtz. He exhaled. Anything else I need to know?
Yes Sir, said Tiffany. A weather disturbance formed south of the yachts anticipated
routetoo soon for a forecastmight dissipate and not be a problem.
Not unless our luck changes, he said. Mark the storm as a watch item Tiff.
Ten-four Sir.
Sholtz directed his attention to the sat cams night vision green screen. The panel van twisted
and turned on the mountain road early on its lengthy journey. With no expectation of action from
the delivery team or the yacht for several hours, he designated time for much-needed team rest.
The van slowed and eased to a stop on a roadside clear area, which revived Sholtz attention.
He checked the time. How the hell could they need a pit stop forty minutes into the trip?
The ISI agents hung out and smoked cigarettes at the front of the van until the civilian signaled
them from the van.
With their journey resumed, Sholtz calculated the elapsed time, an eternal fifty minutes. He
took a moment for analysis before his sat-phone signaled the expected call. Hello Rob.
What do you think Rick?
I dont like my interpretation, said Sholtz. The civilian is a weapons tech, and he set up a
remote detonator for the warhead.
My assessment too Rick, but we have no means of verification.
If we cant confirm it, we need a countermeasure.
Are you thinking what Im thinking?
Phi Slamma Jamma, said Sholtz.
Ill set it up.
Lets touch base in a few hours Rob. Ill call you when we finish on this end. He signed off
to a pair of inquisitive faces. What? he blurted.
Phi Slamma Jamma? said Andy.
His forehead smoothed as a grin invaded his face. A signal jammer designed for the Predator,
powerful on a small concentrated basis.
Ive never heard the name, said Tiffany.

The official designation is numeric, which doesnt fit our field mentality, so Rob and I came
up with the name over a bottle of scotch one night.
Andy chuckled. I assume youre college basketball fans.
Sholtz nodded and moved on, We need to be sharp when the action starts, so Im ordering
mandatory rest for both of you. Get a babysitter for your chair Tiff. He responded to her pout, Its
an order Tiffany.

CHAPTER 75
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
The call from Tiffany pleased Sholtz. She followed his orders to rest and was sharp for the
missions conclusion. Her calls purpose, however, raised concerns. She updated the missions
status on her return and discovered issues.
Ask me why Im not surprised, said Sholtz when he entered the op-room. Whatcha you got
Tiff.
They set an unexpected course to the closest point of land in Oman.
Sholtz sank into a chair. An exit strategy we never considered, he said. Theyll deliver the
yacht to Muscat and fly home.
Dont think so Sir, said Tiffany. I believe they rerouted their return trip to parallel the
coastline for safetys sake.
What led you to that conclusion?
Let me zoom out, she said.
The weather disturbance Tiffany monitored before the ordered break had developed into a
large, well-defined circular monster.
Unbelievable, said Sholtz. He paused. Alright, we need to reassess our plan. Whats the
current status on the Predator?
With a fifty-seven minute operational fuel window, Gameboy launched a replacement, said
Tiffany.
The first bit of good news buoyed his spirits. He made a good call to eliminate the time
constraints. His elation was short-lived.
True Sir, but the storm presents a problem. The yacht is now in the outer bands with wind
and sea chop, but no rain. The weather will deteriorate as the storm approaches, and when the
storm wall arrives, theyll experience typhoon conditions with zero visibility.
How much time? asked Sholtz.
The computer says forty minutes. I recommend no more than a half-hourless if possible
the sooner the better.
Monkey Business cruised at top speed in the dead center of the Gulf of Omans shipping
lanes, Sholtzs last choice for an attack point.
Connect with Gameboy on the sat-phone Andy. Tell him to maneuver the Predator into
attack position and recall the replacement.
Too late on the recall, said Tiffany. The primary drone detected the secondarys arrival.
Damn quick, I didnt expect it this soon.
Sholtz asked Andy for the sat-phone as the Predator moved into strike position. Lock on the
target and fire, he ordered.
The Hellfire missile exploded on the yachts stern and caused significant damage, but fell well
short of a kill shot.
Hit it again.
The second Hellfire struck the yacht amidships and ignited the full fuel tanks into a enormous
ball of fire. Thick black smoke filled the air from the massive debris field.

Good job Gameboy, said Sholtz. Bring your baby home.

The screen blanked and Sholtz diverted his attention to the sat-cam feed of the panel van. He
called Belson for an update.
I assume youve wrapped up your end Rick.
Thats affirm, he said. Whats your status?
Their route eliminated teams one and two with the team three turnoff twenty minutes out. Oh,
I sent Tiffany the access code for our Predator video feed. We lose the satellite in four minutes.
Much appreciated Rob, he said. Call me a half-hour before the action starts. Right now my
in-basket needs serious attention. He signaled Andy to follow as he closed the call.
Im confused, said Andy from across the desk. Tiffany said the backup drone arrived on
site, but the timeline indicates otherwise.
Im sorry Andy, but you dont have a need to know.

CHAPTER 76
Chesapeake Bay, Maryland
With Jacks transformation to the no-rules black ops mindset complete, he had spent the day
developing a calculated attack plan for his incursion into Vengadors op-house.
He negotiated the two-hundred unfamiliar yards from the boat ramps parking area to the rear
of the detached garage with the aid of night vision goggles on the moonless, starry night.
The silence put him at ease until the crunch of footsteps on the gravel driveway alerted him to
danger. He squeezed between the garage and a maintenance shed to avoid detection. With his
wound recovery rated at eighty percent, the plan eliminated hand-to-hand contact if possible. He
readied the garrote and his sound suppressed Sig Sauer.
The flashlight beam panned side-to-side in a common pattern used by sentries. After the merc
cleared the rear of the garage area, he faced Chesapeake Bay to check the shoreline. Jack stepped
out to pass the wire loop over his head and jerk the handle in one fluid motion.
He retrieved the flashlight from the thick grass to verify the kill and identified the merc who
delivered the money to Danny.
Jack moved the short distance to the side of the house for the most uncertain and dangerous
part of the mission. The recon did not tell him how many mercs guarded the site. His pulse
throbbed.
After two steps toward the front of the house, the creak of the door turned him into a statue.
Heavy footsteps on the wooden porch forced him to a prone position.
The new arrival called out to the merc on guard duty and with no response, he moved to the
edge of the porch into Jacks view. Peering into the darkness, he repeated his message with
increased volume, his hand on his sidearm.
With no laser sight, the imprecise night vision view forced Jack to aim center mass. Three
rapid-fire hollow point rounds slammed into the mercenarys chest and drove him backward to the
ground. He waited an eternal three or four minutes for the labored wheezing to cease.
Jacks wounds stabbed at his chest and side as he dragged the mercs dead weight to the rear
of the garage, but with the missions end in sight, he pushed aside the need for rest.
With extreme caution, he crept through the houses shadowy front area drawn like a moth to
the light in the rear.
A large oak executive desk faced the bay window and afforded an idyllic Chesapeake Bay
vista. The reflection of Baltimores lights sparkled in the distance, but his eyes locked onto the back
of the muscular man with a shaved head, he found Carlos.
Satisfaction swelled his chest. With the book closed on Carlos traitorous mission, he could
wash away the anger and resume the good life he and Mary enjoyed. Sholtzs expected retrieval of
the warhead would resolve other issues, like the Presidential Directive to locate and detain him.
Jack needed to end the mission.
Carlos extended his arm and inserted his fingers in the handle of the side desk drawer.
I wouldnt, said Jack.
The businesslike tone convinced him. He froze, motionless.
Interlock your fingers behind your neck and spin around to face me. Dont make any sudden
moves.
He rotated the chair as instructed, and the blank stare on Jacks face telegraphed his

disappointment.
Who the hell are you?

CHAPTER 77
Jack accepted field changes on missions as standard fare, but he considered the major snag he faced
a game changer. He needed a new plan with time a critical factor.
His captive chose the deaf-mute defense, which pissed off Jack to the max. He fought off the
bullet-to-the-brain resolution in the event he needed him for the new plans execution.
With the mercs wrists and ankles zip tied to a rigid chair, Jack inspected the desktop items.
He checked the unsent e-mail on the laptops screen. The message appeared innocuous, an order
for office supplies, but the V2 signature piqued his interest. He learned his captives tag name.
The new plan took shape. He needed to transport the laptop in battery mode to Marvins for
inspection. His mood improved with no password access concerns.
A sat-phone remained on the desktop. He scrolled through the rolodex filled with what
appeared to be mercenaries tag names, the last being V1. The logic fell into place. V meant
Vengador with his zip tied merc second in command. V1 must be Carlos, but Jack needed
confirmation. He pressed the send button.
Go Two, he answered.
Hello Chico, this is The Man, said Jack.
The pause as Carlos moved forward to the yachts bow on the pitching deck made Jack
nervous. He strained to hear over the wind noise.
How surprised were you when you learned I survived the cartel?
Somewhat, but we both received extensive survival training, so not a total shock.
Always the realist Jack, he said. You called me, what do you want?
Why did you kill Cooper?
Simple, said Carlos. He turned on me, as did Gerta.
Jesus, youre a sick SOB Carlos. You killed our agents, youre the bad guy.
Depends on your viewpoint, he said. I did what I needed to do for survival.
As did we, said Jack.
Carlos hesitated. One of these days, well find out which of us is the true alpha dog.
Jack hated the typical Carlos game playing. He pressed for a quick resolution. Why wait,
lets end this.
Id love to accommodate you, but I cant right now, he said. I suggest you keep your eyes
open though, the time will come.
Filled with anger, Jacks patience vaporized. I always knew you were a chickenshit A
sudden sound louder than the wind noise interrupted, and the phone fell silent. Frustrated by the
failed attempt to reconnect and with time an issue, he slipped the phone in his pocket to try later
when the atmospheric conditions improved.
The solitude let Jack work on his revised plan. He copied the e-mails onto a flash drive found
in the center desk drawer then called Dog in an attempt to solicit his help. His Project Unity
update included the stolen warhead and underway recovery mission.
I appreciate the intel Jack, but I fail to see the urgency of the midnight call.
Do you remember Carlos from our Texas mission?
Sure, he eluded us there, but you later told me a drug cartel neutralized him.
Turns out hes alive and neck deep in Project Unity.
Whats his involvement?

His team acquired the warhead and made the delivery to the Jihadists.
Moves him to the top of the most wanted terrorist list, said Dog. How sure are you?
One of his crew led me to their op-house on Chesapeake Bay this morning. I returned tonight
to finish the business with Carlos, but he wasnt on site. I spoke to him on their sat-phone before I
called you.
The reason for Jacks midnight call became clear. If you didnt need my help, Id learn about
this on the six oclock news. Whats your situation?
Jack breathed a sigh of relief. He cleared the first hurdle with Dog and moved on to the hard
part.
I have the crews second in command in custody and his laptop. He wont talk to me, but in
the right location with the proper pressure applied we can convince him to help us locate Carlos.
Carlos take down is a priority for me too, but you want me to execute an unsanctioned
detention and interrogation. Were past the edge of the envelope now and over the cliff.
I understand, said Jack, but with no place to take him, and no one else to turn to for help, I
had no choice.
Dog paused. Are you positive nobody else knows about this?
Just the two of us.
Why do I feel you havent told me everything Jack?
Because youre perceptive, he said. I had to deal with two sentries tonight.
How the hell do you expect me, with no notice, to activate a cleaning crew who will keep
this on the quiet?
I didnt anticipate the need for a cleaner Dog. I expected to finish the Carlos business and
walk away with no concern for who found him.
I must be out of my mind to consider this, but I want the prick as much as you do. Let me see
what I can do. Ill call you back.
Pleased with the ten-minute return call, Jack answered with anticipation. Dog told him to
expect Ajax, the cleaner from their Texas mission, in an hour. He will take the captive and the
laptop to meet Dog at their stash house after he completes the cleaning job.
Jack checked the zip ties on V2 and left before Ajax arrived.

CHAPTER 78
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
Sholtz connected to Rob on his sat-phone as he entered the op-room followed by Andy. The two
uninterrupted hours spent with his in-basket allowed them to focus on the recovery mission. He
settled into a chair. Give me an update Rob.
Youre gonna love this Rick. The reception team waits a mile from the border in an old,
turquoise and cream colored VW bus.
He chuckled. What a surprise.
Once they complete the transfer and theyre on the move, well activate Phi Slamma Jamma.
The team waits four miles away. We secured five men from view behind the remnant walls of an
old, rundown stone building. I placed the sniper outside the jammer range two-hundred yards from
the road.
Whats the status on the Seahawk?
They joined our extraction Blackhawk a secure distance from the point of attack with their
search transponders set to the designated code. We shut all electronics off except for one sat-phone
on the Blackhawk. I dont want to lose two choppers and their crews to the nuclear explosions
electromagnetic pulse if the mission goes south.
Good job, said Sholtz. Call me after you finalize the mission.
Ten-four Rick.
The curvy, narrow dirt roadway forced slow progress on the delivery van. Monotony lulled
Sholtz into a semi-trancelike state when the proverbial light bulb ignited. Damn, they picked a
perfect crossing.
Whys that Sir? Andy asked.
Theyre on an ancient caravan route, hard packed by centuries of nomadic and merchant
travel. Pakistan doesnt recognize them as roadways and the locations are isolated. As a result,
theyve built no border-crossing stations or installed signage for them. For all practical purposes,
they dont exist.
Not what Id call a secure border, said Andy
Sholtz nodded.
Adrenaline replaced their anticipation when the VW bus came to view. Three men waited on
the hard pack for the panel van to arrive. They wore traditional Afghan garb and clenched AK-47
assault rifles.
Buckle in for the ride folks, said Sholtz. Our missions wrap-up begins once they complete
the warhead transfer to the stupid VW bus.
A silent movie played out on the big screen. The Taliban crew greeted two uniformed men
and a civilian from the panel van. With the transfer complete, the teams shook hands to finish the
amenities. A staccato of smoke spewed from the muzzles of the Taliban crews weapons. The
Pakistanis bullet riddled bodies crumpled to the hard pack.
The unexpected action stunned Sholtz. He stared at the monitor in disbelief.
They moved the bodies to the panel van and tossed in a square canvas package. A remote
trigger detonated the satchel bomb as they drove away. The window glass burst and the van filled

with flames. A secondary explosion from the ignited fuel tank flashed a large fireball.
With a shake of his head, Sholtz forced the event aside to concentrate on the mission.
As the Taliban neared the teams position, a .50 caliber round from the M107 sniper rifle
exploded the left rear tire of the VW bus. The shredded rubber dug into the hard pack and forced
the driver to overcorrect his steering. Momentum raised the right side and slammed the buss left
side to the ground.
Two of the assault crew concentrated fire through the roof in the front area to avoid damage to
the warhead in the rear. The team leader hand signaled a ceasefire and directed a man to access the
bus. He opened the right side sliding door, fired one shot, and verified the kills.
A red flare marked the attacks success. Belsons field command disengaged the jammer and
notified the Blackhawk crew to engage.
The Seahawk arrived first and lowered a lift line to the ground crew. They wrestled the
warhead crate and remote detonator case into the attached cargo net for retrieval by the chopper
crew.
With the package en route, the Blackhawk extracted the field team.
Sholtz led the applause for the missions successful completion. Thank you guys for a job
well done on this difficult assignment. I cant give you the recognition you deserve and must
apologize.
A warm smile filled Tiffanys face. No problem Sir, we know the outcome.
He nodded a thank you for her understanding. Lets close up shop.
Settled at his desk with a fresh mug of coffee, Sholtz tilted his executive chair back for a
needed break from the missions tension. The sat-phone jolted him from a half sleep.
Damn Rob, did you already finish the post mission shit?
Only the bare essentials, he said. I dont understand why they killed the delivery team.
Whats your take?
Makes no sense, said Sholtz. We need more data.
I agree Rick. Lets keep our eyes and ears open.

CHAPTER 79
The White House
Cole Andrews called General Sholtz with his frustration at the boiling point. He ignored basic
phone etiquette as his anger spewed.
A week ago, you informed me of a Project Unity rumor, and Ive not heard a word from
you since. Give me an update now General.
Sholtz needed time for the Seahawk to deliver the warhead to the assault ship before he
disclosed the mission details. He gave him a teaser. We uncovered a Jihadist terrorist plot.
The response calmed Coles anger. Fill me in on the intel.
I can give you the whole smack in two hours.
His anger returned. I wont give you two minutes, he shouted. Weve reached the end of
the road.
Cole played his trump card, and Sholtz understood what he meant. A mission discussion with
the President was not a pleasant prospect. He needed to stand his ground though, and hoped the
Presidents busy schedule bought him enough time.
Im sorry, youll need to wait.
Son-of-a-bitch, he screamed and slammed the handset in the cradle.
Cole paced the floor as he sucked in deep breaths to gain control. The flush faded from his
face as he reined in the anger. The President had no knowledge of Project Unity, which put him
at a disadvantage, and felt it critical to inform the President before he spoke to Sholtz. He worked at
length on dialogue designed to strengthen his position before he called the President for a private
meeting.
Two-and-a-half hours passed before President Reynolds called, and Sholtz thanked the political
gods for time to complete his portion of the mission. Still uneasy though, since he did not look
forward to his conversation with an angry President.
Good afternoon Sir, how can I help you?
I understand youve neglected to advise me of an ongoing serious issue Rick. Do you know
what I mean?
Yes I do Sir, he said. Prepared for a Presidential blast, the response surprised him.
I dont want to discuss the matter at the White House, so Ive cleared tomorrows schedule
for a two oclock meeting at Camp David. I want all the principles to attend. Will you handle the
invitations for me?
Id be happy to Sir.
Make sure we include our Mystery Man.
Might be a problem Sir.
Why?
Hell be reluctant because of your locate and detain directive in effect for him.
I never issu, he paused. Tell him Ill rescind it as soon as we finish.
Ill do my best to convince him.
Thanks Rick, see you tomorrow.
The unexpected, congenial conversation gave Sholtz pause. A quick review led him to an
initial conclusion. Cole Andrews had a personal agenda. He kept President Reynolds out of the
Project Unity loop until the last possible minute, and he issued the directive to locate Jack without

Reynolds knowledge. Why though, what did he have to gain?

Sholtz pushed his jumbled thoughts aside to invite Bailey and Admiral Forsythe to the
mandatory meeting. He saved the difficult call for last. Hello Jack, Rick here.
Good to hear from you, whats up?
Mission complete, warhead acquired, he said.
Good news Rick, we can breathe a little easier now, said Jack. Out of curiosity, you set up
Bailey as my update contact, why the change?
Another matter Jack, said Sholtz. I managed to keep the mission away from the President
until completion, but hes all over it now. He scheduled a debriefing tomorrow to explain why we
neglected to make him aware of the mission, and to give him the details.
Makes sense, but why do I need to know?
He wants you to attend.
Jack shook his head in disbelief. Jesus Rick, your boss has stones of steel. He put a dragnet
in place to find me, and now he expects me to walk into the lions den just because he invited me.
Is he arrogant, or does he think Im stupid?
Neither Jack, Reynolds didnt issue the directive.
Makes no sense Rick? If the President didnt, who in the hell did?
Cole Andrews.
Bizarre described the turn the conversation took with Sholtz. Aside from the obvious
questions, why does Reynolds campaign manager want me out of the picture?
Must somehow relate, in his twisted mind, to the re-election campaign, said Sholtz.
Im sure youre right, but knowing Andrews originated the directive changes nothing.
Reynolds will cancel the directive today.
Great Rick, but until I have verification, my answer is no.
I understand Jack.

CHAPTER 80
Fort Bragg, North Carolina
Zebra Company field operations
In the name of national security, Dog stood behind the decisions he made to help Jacks mission.
He trusted Jack and considered the risk of exposure minimal. However, the e-mails on the captured
laptop connected Cole Andrews to the terrorist team and changed his perspective. When backed in
a corner at the missions conclusion, Cole will spin the scenario in his favor and paint himself the
good guy who uncovered the Jihadist plot. Dog did not want Colonel Matthews to learn of his
involvement from CNN.
Thanks for seeing me on short notice Vic.
Hell Dawg, youre welcome anytime. What can I do for you?
The Colonel listened to his admissions with intense interest. Ive never known you to
disregard protocol.
The first time, said Dog.
Youre up to your neck in quicksand Dawg, and youve dragged me into the swamp with
you. With the knowledge of your breaches of protocol, Im obligated to take action.
I didnt consider it Sir, Im sorry.
Cut the Sir crap Dawg and lets get to work.
Get to work?
Matthews grinned. Were not going down without a fight.
The prospect of survival buoyed Dogs spirits as they reviewed the events from a defensive
perspective.
Is the team aware of your contact with Jack?
I didnt want to involve them.
Good call Dawg. Will Jack tell anybody?
No, he said.
Makes your transgressions a non-issue, they never happened. How did you explain civilians
in the op-center to the crew?
I introduced them to Art as Old Timer, a familiar tag name. They welcomed him as a Zebra
Company team member. Art understands hes to have no contact with Jack and not to mention his
name.
Matthews nodded. An easy sell, he said. Lets get to the hard part. We need to address two
issues to keep your involvement in Jacks black ops operation under wraps, the laptop and the
captured terrorist. We can make the laptop disappear, but our captive is quite another matter.
Dog opened the laptop. Before we decide Vic, you need to read the e-mails.
Matthews shook his head as he clicked through the messages. Coles dirty-tricks crew
acquired and delivered a nuclear warhead to the Jihadists, does this make Cole a traitor?
I saw nothing to tie him to their mission, but they might have a dedicated COM line.
Makes sense, said Matthews. What about the President? How much does he know of
Coles indiscretions? Is he involved?
Doesnt compute Vic, but what the hell does at this point.
A computer tone snapped Matthews eyes to his screen. Well, speak of the devil, a verified

message from President Reynolds. A large grin formed as he read the e-mail. He rescinded the
Locate and Notify directive for Jack.
What the hell happened to change his mind?
No clue, said Matthews, but the stay of execution buys us time for analysis.
Dog nodded. I need to notify Jack.
If hes as good an agent as youve led me to believe, he made a copy of the laptops e-mails,
any chance he knows Miner is Cole?
Im sure he doesnt.
We dont want Jack suspicious, so discuss everything in full detail except Miners
identification until we understand this mess.
Ten-four Boss.

CHAPTER 81
The White Horse Op-center
Anxious to deliver the news, Dog called Jack on his drive to the op-house.
Good to hear from you Dog. How did the mission go last night?
According to script, he said. The site is clean, and your mans detained, but I have news
youre gonna love. The President cancelled his directive to locate you.
Well Ill be damned.
Jesus Jack, I expected more excitement from you.
Im sorry Dog. Let me explain the chain of events. Youll welcome the first item. They
completed the mission, and we recovered the warhead.
Great, it helps me justify the decisions I made.
Im sure it does, and I cant thank you enough for your help, Jack said and continued with
the rundown. When the President learned of the mission today, he set up a debriefing for
tomorrow and wanted me to attend. He offered to withdraw the directive as an incentive for me to
agree. With no way to verify it, I declined his invitation. Now Ill have to reconsider.
The uncertainty of President Reynolds involvement forced Dog to give his friend a subtle
warning. My advice, if youre interested, is to walk away while you have the opportunity. With
the Jihadists shut down, this meeting will put the mission to bed. What do you have to gain?
I blame Reynolds idiotic policies for dragging me into this mess, and this is the only chance
Ill have to voice my displeasure to him face-to-face.
Just be careful Jack.
Thanks for your concern.
With the topic closed, Dog gave Jack the lead. What else do we need to cover?
Whats your take on the laptops e-mails?
Im not finished with the analysis yet, whats yours?
Nothing new until I identify their contact Miner, said Jack. Hows our detainee?
He hasnt said a word. I sent his prints to our database in the hope hes ex-military. He might
loosen up if we identify him. Ill update you on the progress. If nothing else, I need you to make a
decision.
Jack chuckled, Im finished Dog. The floor belongs to you.
When Reynolds rescinded the directive, our alert status cancelled and we need to vacate the
op-center. I can move your people to a safe house.
Id love to put them in a nice hotel so they can feel like normal people again?
No problem Jack. Give me a locale convenient for you.
Something near Dulles works for me. When this fiasco is finished, well make a quick
getaway.
Not a problem Jack. Well take them to HQ to book the rooms and arrange transportation. Ill
give Mary a sat-phone to contact you when they arrive at the hotel.
Once again Dog, thank you for the care of Mary and my folks. If you ever need my help,
dont hesitate to call.
What are friends for Jackbe careful what you say at the debriefing.

CHAPTER 82
The Westin Hotel
Jacks contact with Mary and his folks seemed an eon ago. With no set time for Marys call, his
anticipation pushed the preparation for his departure.
Thrilled with Jacks decision to attend the debriefing, Sholtz handled the details. He insisted
Jack ride with Bailey to avoid access problems at Camp David.
To protect Marvins identity, Jack arranged to meet Bailey in OBanions parking lot.
A shave, hot shower, and clean clothes buoyed his spirits. With necessities for an overnight
stay packed, he settled on the leather sofa to wait for Marys call.
Mary sprung from her chair in the Padella lounge and raced to Jack as he entered. She stopped
short. I dont want to hurt you.
He smiled and spread his arms. Im healed.
They broke an extended embrace to join his folks in the lounge. He shook Arts hand and
hugged his mother.
How are you Mom?
Id be better if we hadnt been kidnapped because of your line of work.
With a grin, Jack glanced at Art. I assume shes over the kidnap shock?
He nodded.
She locked narrow eyes on Jack. Not funny son, she said. Now I need to worry about you.
No you dont Mom. At the end of the mission, Ill retire so Mary and I can enjoy the life we
deserve.
Her face softened. When will this mission be complete?
Tomorrow, after the debriefing with the President.
Her voiced hushed. You have a meeting with President Reynolds?
Jack responded with a nod.
Art sat erect. Do you need to attend?
No, but his policies weaken our countrys security, and this is the one opportunity I have to
voice my opinion.
Art settled in his chair. Choose your words with caution Jack; youll be in his house.
I will Art, thanks for the advice.
Jack flagged the server to order a double scotch and a round for the table.
When he reached in his pocket to pay for the delivered drinks, Mary placed her hand on his
forearm.
Dog said to charge all our food and drinks to the suites, a small price to pay after the Texas
mission last year.
Well, who am I to argue, laughed Jack as Mary stood to accompany his mother to the
restroom.
He locked eyes with Art after the girls left. I have something to tell you I dont want the girls
to know. They need to relax and enjoy this time. Carlos is alive, and he authorized the kidnapping.
Thanks for the warning Jack. Ill keep my eyes open.
They enjoyed a congenial dinner and retired to their respective suites.
Jack quick-checked the room, This is nice, lets check the availability and see if we can book
the suite a couple of extra days.

Marys electric-blue eyes sparkled in the rooms soft light. Dog said we can stay as long as
we like.
He smiled and spread his arms wide. Feels like a honeymoon.
She moved close. Yes it does.

CHAPTER 83
Camp David
Baileys grey Volvo followed the pilot car through the sprawling Camp David complex to the
visitors parking lot for the main house.
A uniformed General Sholtz greeted them, Welcome to Camp David guys.
Jack relished the rustic forest setting and sucked in a deep breath of warm, clean air. I can see
why they use this for a retreat.
A polar opposite of the White House, said Sholtz, but he didnt pick the location for our
comfort. Were here for secrecy, away from the myriad of recording devices in the White House.
Hes pissed we didnt apprise him of the intel and the mission.
I thought you fed Cole Andrews teasers to cover your ass.
I did, he said and closed the conversation. Youll need to draw your own conclusions.
Jack understood and moved on, Before they call us in, I need to give an intel update.
Vengador is Carlos Cruz.
Stunned, Bailey blurted, Not possible, the cartel neutralized him in Grand Cayman last year.
Who is Carlos Cruz? Sholtz asked.
A rebel agent who forced me to conduct an unsanctioned rogue mission, said Jack.
Bailey stammered, How can you be sure Jack?
I talked to him on the phone the night before last.
What time? Sholtz asked.
The question seemed odd, but Jack responded, Ohmidnight, give or take a few minutes.
Sholtz checked his sat-phones caller ID. I need to take this, see you inside.
The choppy sound of helicopter blades disturbed the peaceful setting and signaled the
Presidents arrival. A dark suited man with an ear bud appeared from nowhere.
Time to go inside, follow me, he directed.
They cloned the meeting room from a good-ole-boys, male-only, private club. The pungent
odor of linseed oil from the dark wood paneling battled the stale cigar smoke to a draw. Intended to
impress and intimidate, the room succeeded on both counts.
General Sholtz flipped his sat-phone closed as he entered, followed by President Reynolds in
a dark blue suit and red power tie.
Out of his element, Jack felt uneasy. His discomfort increased as Reynolds shook hands and
introduced himself to the first timers. Underdressed, his casual attirechino pants and a white polo
pullover shirtput him at a distinct disadvantage in the room filled with suits and uniforms.
Reynolds nodded to the Secret Service Agent, a signal to exit and seal the room from the
outside world.
Trapped, Jack regretted his decision to attend, but what the President did next eased his
anxiety. Reynolds draped his suit coat over a chair, loosened his tie, and rolled up his shirtsleeves.
Take your seats gentlemen.
The workmanlike approach designed to give Reynolds the edge worked in Jacks favor. He
downgraded the dress code.
Weve assembled to learn the truth gentlemen, and we wont leave without full disclosure.
Tuck, why in the hell did you ignore protocol and not involve me in this process?
The Admiral sat erect and made eye contact with the President. He cleared his throat. No

time for protocol when I learned of the serious Jihadist threat to our national security Sir. I made a
command decision to activate the countermeasure.
Im disappointed by your lack of confidence in me Tuck.
With not a minute to spare Sir, my assessment proved accurate.
Reynolds face steeled at the response. He took a composure moment in the dead quiet room
before he continued. Give me a mission briefing so I dont sound like a fucking idiot if the press
gets wind of this.
General Sholtz tracked the mission, so Ill give him the floor.
He gave the President the mission details up to the capture point and changed direction.
Reynolds needed to understand Jacks value to the process.
They didnt deviate from Jacks scenario an iota until the last transfer. We wondered why the
Taliban crew killed the Pakistani deliverymen. Our attack team gave us the answer in their
debriefing, which I learned as we entered the room for this meeting. They werent Taliban, but a
Pasdaran black ops unit.
Iranians? Reynolds blurted. I shudder to imagine what theyd do with one of our
warheads.
Sholtz agreed. Two thoughts came to mind, both disastrous. How did they get involved?
Whats your take on this Jack?
Surprised by Sholtz request, Jack inhaled. A Jihadist cell run by a Saudi Sheik codenamed
The Judge planned the mission. With common objectives, Pasdaran financed his operation.
When he disappeared, his oldest daughter, bent on revenge, decided to continue his work.
She knew they wouldnt work with a female, but her father communicated with the Iranians via email so she assumed her fathers identity and contacted them. They accepted her as The Judge and
conducted business as usual. Im convinced Pasdaran intended to detonate the warhead in
Afghanistan.
Why wouldnt they let the Taliban complete the mission? Reynolds asked.
Doubt, said Jack. The Taliban is on board with the martyrdom concept, but they might
balk at the killing of thousands of their citizens.
I can only imagine the chain of events if they succeeded, said Reynolds. We owe you a
debt of gratitude. How did you uncover the Jihadist plot?
The Presidents question opened the door for Jack. Quite by accident, which raises an issue.
If you didnt handcuff the CIAs intelligence gathering ability, they would have uncovered this plot
long ago with sufficient time to plan and negate it. Instead, we depended on dumb luck, which is
not the best policy.
Reynolds lockjaw face flushed red. Did Jack push him too far? Maybe he needed to stop. No,
he could not pass on his one opportunity to vent.
You started this meeting in search of the truth, but weve only dealt with facts to cover your
position. Lets talk about Cole Andrews. I know the General briefed him on my mission numerous
times, and yet you knew nothing until yesterday. Why didnt he update you? He issued the
directive to locate me. How can you give your re-election campaign manager the authority to
execute Presidential Directives?
The Presidents delayed response broke the rooms tense silence. Youve spoken your mind
Jack. If you can provide proof he committed a crime, I will hear you out. If not, our conversation is
concluded.
Sholtz suggested Jack wait outside while they revamped the protocol, and the President

agreed.
Jack benefited from the change of scenery and fresh air while they finished the meeting. He
used the alone time to flush out the tension and ease his anxiety.
Sholtz, Bailey, and Forsythe joined Jack as Marine Ones rotor blades whirred to life. The
helicopters departure marked the end of his mission.
Forsythe approached, hand extended and a smile on his face. Good job slapping Reynolds in
the face with the Cole Andrews issues. The timing was bad for Rick and me.
I understand Admiral, said Jack. As the only one with nothing to lose, the job fell on me. I
hope this doesnt create a problem for you guys.
Not at all, said Forsythe. Reynolds primary concern is to keep a tight lid on this mission.
Hed love to replace us with yes-men, but if he does it will create a feeding frenzy with the White
House press corps.
Jack nodded as he exhaled.
You must feel like the weight of the world has lifted off your shoulders Jack, said Bailey.
Yes I do, he said. This threat kicked me back to a black hole in my life, but now I can
crawl out and rebuild the good life for Mary and me. My lone concern is Carlos.
Sholtz interjected. I know youre anxious to join your family Jack, but you and Bailey need
to come to my office.

CHAPTER 84
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
The grey Volvo departed Camp David en route to the NSAs headquarters. Jack informed Mary of
the meeting and his later than expected arrival tonight. To calm her angst, he assured her this
marked the end of the mission for them.
Jack and Bailey pondered Sholtzs secretive intel on the balance of the drive and arrived with
their curiosity at a fever pitch.
General Sholtz thanked the security agent for escorting his guests to the office then led Jack
and Bailey to op-room two. He introduced them to Andy and Tiffany, and allowed time for their
eyes to adjust to the rooms lowlight before he gave the signal to begin.
Tiffany pressed the enter button on her keyboard. The right-hand big screen sparked to life
and showed a large yacht pitching and yawing through heavy white capped seas.
Zoom in on the man on the bow Tiff, directed Sholtz.
The backside view of a bald man with a phone to his ear on the pitching deck grew on the
screen. A sudden increase in the wind strength whipped his clothes to a frenzy, and he turned his
back to the onslaught, which exposed his face.
Pause it Tiff.
Eyes locked on the screen, Jack stiffened. My God, its Carlos!
No question, agreed Bailey. This also explains the wind noise you heard.
Jack took a moment to understand his muddled thoughts before he asked Sholtz, How did
you put Carlos and the video together?
When you told us about him at Camp David, the date and time of your conversation matched
our video. I needed you to verify his identity.
Whats the location?
The Gulf of Oman.
Unbelievable, said Jack. Halfway around the worldbuys time before I need to look
over my shoulder. Anxious to join Mary and his folks, Jack asked if they were finished.
Not quite, said Sholtz as he signaled Tiffany to resume the video.
She zoomed out the view to frame the yacht and restarted the playback.
Jack owed Sholtz the courtesy to finish the presentation, and he stifled his impatience. The
monotony of the yacht struggling against the angry sea lulled him to a semi trance.
He snapped to full alert when the Hellfire from the Predator slammed into the stern of the
yacht. A second missile penetrated the thick, black smoke. The massive fireball from the ignited
fuel tanks filled the screen and settled into a smoky, flaming debris field. The screen went blank.
You are full of surprises General! said Jack. Wheres the post attack video?
The intensifying storm and our critical fuel window forced me to withdraw the Predator, but I
have no doubt about the outcome Jack.
With a nod of his head, Jack agreed with Sholtzs assessment as relief replaced the adrenaline
created from the attacks shock. His primary concern no longer existed. Carlos demise marked the
official end to his mission. He and Mary could resume their good life.
They returned to the office for a quick debriefing.

Thank you General for the solution to my problem, said Jack. Sorry I wasnt able to help
with yours.
Dont shoulder the blame Jack. You did all you could with the available intel, and I
appreciate your effort.
He agreed with Sholtzs assessment, and closed the meeting on a personal note. I dont envy
you Rick, politics is a dirty business.
With one last door to close before he and Mary returned to the good life, Jack called Dog on his
drive from OBanions to the hotel.
Hello Jack, whats up?
I wanted to update you on the debriefing at Camp David.
How did it feel to rub elbows with the President?
A waste of time, he said. I tried to bury Cole Andrews, but Reynolds shot me down.
Welcome to Washington politics.
No thank you Dog, but I did learn good news after the meeting. Carlos is dead.
Dog laughed. Are you sure this time?
Yes I am, he said as he neared the Westin Hotel. Hows our detainee?
He hasnt said a word.
What a surprise. I wish I could help, but without Miners identification Im at a standstill and
running out of time.
Dog clenched his teeth. Jack deserved to know Miner was Cole Andrews, but he could not
ignore a direct order from his commanding officer. Well figure it out.
No doubt in my mind, said Jack as he turned into the parking lot. Well, Ive arrived at the
hotel. Thank you for the first-class accommodations Dog. Ill hang out for a couple of days to
unwind and enjoy my family.
Take all the time you need.

CHAPTER 85
The White House
Cole Andrews paced an oft-traveled path in his office as he reviewed the just completed Camp
David meeting update with President Reynolds.
The update progressed as expected until Reynolds introduced a surprise attendee, Jack
McDuffaka, the Mystery Man. Coles thoughts spun like a whirlpool as Reynolds described
Jacks attack on him, but he stifled an overt reaction to avoid raising a flag.
His pace quickened as he searched to understand the logic. The scenario soon popped in place
like a flashbulb. Without proof, Sholtz dared not accuse him of wrongdoing, but an outsider with
nothing to lose was another matter.
The son-of-a-bitch, his mind screamed as he sat and slammed an open palm on his desk with
a loud pop. The sting of his hand reined in the anger enough to finish the analysis and draw a
conclusion. McDuff was a puppet in the Generals agenda to discredit him and posed a serious
threat to Coles plan.
Reynolds election gave Cole credibility, but he needed a successful re-election result for
elevation to the coveted political god status to write his own ticket.
Sholtz position of authority for the next year-and-a-half prior to the election posed an
unacceptable risk and he needed him removed as the NSA Chief to negate the threat.
Two hours of brain twisting left Cole with a vice grip headache and a dire solution to his
problem.

VengadorI have a critical job to remove a high-level official. Must

look like an accident. Will pay fifty-grand. Can you handle for
me?Miner

CHAPTER 86
Fort Bragg, North Carolina
Zebra Company field operations
Dog read Miners e-mail on the Vengador laptop and stared at the screen in disbelief. Cole changed
the game. He raised the stakes from political hardball to contract killing. What happened to elevate
his desperation?
The new parameters forced Dog to reassess the scenario. Cole still considered Vengador a
viable entity, which worked to Dogs operational advantage to shut him down. On the downside,
the new higher profile aspect reduced his chances of career survival to near zero.
The temptation to ignore the request reared its ugly head, but he needed to include Matthews
in the final decision. He called to set a meeting.
Dog settled in a chair across the desk from Matthews and delivered a minor update to break the ice.
They returned a positive on the detainees prints, a former Green Beret named Anthony Vitale.
Well see if it loosens his tongue. Reluctant to introduce Coles e-mail, he hesitated.
You didnt set a meeting to deliver phone-in intel Dawg, whats the bad news?
He turned on the laptop and opened Miners message.
Eyes locked on the screen, Matthews face twisted to a frown as he read the e-mail. Everyone
knows Andrews is an asshole, but I never dreamed hed go to this extreme. Whats your take
Dawg?
Something pushed him to desperation mode.
Do you know the target?
No I dont Vic.
Maybe our detainee can identify him, if we get him to talk.
Its possible.
Matthews huffed, A part of me hopes he cant give us a name.
There might be a way to handle this and not expose our involvement Vic.
He sat erect and leaned over the desk, eyes fixed on Dog. Youve got my attention.
We need an unconnected outsider to ramrod the operation.
My God Dawg, your brain is scrambled. Were up to our necks in the Pentagons quicksand.
One more protocol breach will finish the job.
Not if we use the right man.
Matthews shook his head, I cant imagine an outsider exists with the qualif He stopped.
Youre suggesting Jack arent you? Why do you think he can pull this off?
Once we acquire what we need to bury Cole, he can give the proof to a high-level contact for
final disposition.
Who is he?
Jack wont divulge his contacts identities.
Based on your recommendation, I have full confidence in Jacks abilities. However Dawg, to
lose control of a critical operation goes against the grain for me.
Ill work hand-in-hand with him through the entire operation Vic.
His slow head-nod acknowledged reluctant agreement. We need to jump on this and respond
to his e-mail, or hell find someone else to do the job.

Ill call Jack.

CHAPTER 87
The Westin Hotel
Dulles Airport
On his late arrival last night, Jack related the days events to Mary. Her tension evaporated when he
gave her the mission complete update.
They joined his folks in the Padella restaurant for a mid-morning meal where he repeated the
update to Art and his mother.
With the missions pressure removed, they planned local sightseeing trips over a relaxed
brunch.
Jack checked his sat-phones caller ID. I need to take this. He answered halfway to the
empty lounge. Well hello, been ages since we talked.
Dog chuckled. Yeah, not since last night.
Whatcha got?
Updates for you, he said.
Damn quick, fill me in Dog.
He expected the fingerprint match to the militarys database for the detainee, but Miners email to set up a high-level hit stunned him and sparked an interest he fought to suppress.
Wow, hes moved up in the black ops world. Whats your strategy?
Depends on you Jack.
The words smacked him in the face. Dog wanted him involved. An internal conflict reared its
ugly head. The mere thought of breaking his commitment to Mary and his folks made his stomach
churn.
Youre set up for this Dog. Why do you need me?
Two reasons Jack, the first pertains to the detainee. Hes an American citizen on his home
soil, which limits our interrogation tactics. You, on the other hand, are just another citizen in search
of information and not handcuffed by his civil rights.
Damn thin, said Jack.
Yes, but the burden of proof is much more difficult.
Jack pondered the request and decided to opt out. Dog needed another candidate for the
interrogation. For courtesy, Jack heard him out before he responded.
Whats the second reason?
Were not authorized to conduct the operation. Our careers are in dire jeopardy if we expose
Miners plot, whereas your contact is in a position to take appropriate action.
Jack paused. A possibility, if we have irrefutable proof.
Dog played his ace-in-the-hole. One more item before you decide, Miner is Cole Andrews.
Stunned, Jack fell silent. His inner conflict dissipated.
Im in.

CHAPTER 88
Zebras Stash House
Jack Followed Dogs directions and turned his Wrangler into the parking lot of Sneaky Petes
Tavern, a mile from Fort Braggs main gate. A Humvees headlights flashed three times to identify
Dog for the follow to Zebras stash house.
On the forty-minute drive, the angry, dark clouds thickened to a heavy blanket and matched
Jacks mood. He hated the revival of his black ops anger, and was determined to make this action
the final phase of the mission.
They turned onto a gravel access road and parked in an isolated farmhouses barn for privacy
from the road.
Good to see you Jack, said the large, muscular man.
Likewise Dog, he said as the smell of impending rain replaced the barns musty odor,
followed by a loud clap of thunder.
Damn Jack; lets get in the house before the downpour starts.
Ryders face flashed a broad smile when Jack entered. Well Ill be damned. I didnt know
you worked on this with us. Welcome aboard.
Thank you manmuch appreciated.
Dog returned from the kitchen with mugs of steaming coffee. Lets get to work.
Their surveillance monitor showed the detainee seated on a wooden chair at a simple table in a
small, barren room. His body erect, in a meditative posture, eyes closed.
Said anything?
Not a word, said Ryder.
What do you have Dog?
He gave him his name and prior Green Beret status as Vengadors laptop came to life. Jacks
anger boiled when he read the e-mail from Miner. Lets do it.
Dog slammed the large deadbolt open with a loud clank.
Ryder watched the detainees eyelids snap open. You got his attention.
Hello Tony. Remember me? Jack saw his eyes flit when he said his name, encouraged by
the reaction.
He set the laptop on the table faced away from Tony and spun the chair around to sit. Tony
fixed his gaze on the wall behind him to avoid eye contact.
We need to chat Tony.
With no reaction, Jacks frustration elevated. He clenched his teeth and inhaled before he
continued. Alright, Ill begin. We know more about your operation than you realize. For example,
we know Cole Andrews is Minor and Carlos Cruz was Vengador.
The continued non-responsive attitude pushed Jack to the brink. We know something you
dont, he spat as he spun the laptop to face Tony. Now read the screen and tell me what Miners
e-mail means! he bellowed.
Startled by the outburst, Tony dropped his eyes to the monitor. His brow wrinkled as he read
the message. I want an attorney.
Jacks tension evaporated. He made Tony talk, and gained control. For theatrics, he stifled a
laugh and tilted his chair back to a stop at the tables edge, his thick forearms on the tabletop.
Let me explain your situation Tony, I dont work for anybody. Im just a concerned civilian

patriot in search of the truth, and I dont give a shit about your civil rights. If you dont co-operate,
youll join the sentries from your op-house in the permanently missing category. Do I make myself
clear?
Tonys rigid posture relaxed, his defiance gone. I understand, but whats in my future if I
work with you?
Depends on your contribution to our cause, said Jack, and your involvement in
Andrews dirty business. His e-mail paints you in a bad light. How many contract killings have you
done for him?
None, spewed Tony. Our business did not include murder. I am not an assassin.
Why did Andrews ask you?
I dont knowa guesssomething pushed him to the edge and he reached out to me in
desperation.
Jack arm signaled to the camera for Dog to join them.
The conversation with the big man converted Tonys intimidation to a realistic hope of
survival, but when the even larger man with a shaved head and a permanent scowl entered, the
trepidation returned two-fold. They did not believe him. In desperation, he blurted, Damn it, Im
telling you the truth.
Jack ignored him to address Dog, Youve read all the e-mails, any others similar to this one?
No, none at all.
Good, said Jack as he turned to face Tony. Im glad you told the truth. I much prefer
working with you to the alternative, so lets get started.
The reprieve triggered a sigh of relief, but with no desire to participate in a plan to bury Cole
Andrews, Tony considered his options and found none. He had no choice but to co-operate.
Jack kicked off the strategy session as Dog secured a chair. We need Tony to reply to
Andrews e-mail and confirm he can handle his project. I am, however, concerned about the
response delay. Can you give him an acceptable reason Tony?
No problem, he said. It wont be the first time.
Okay, said Jack. Now we need to craft a response for a jumpy Andrews to agree to a faceto-face meeting. Im open to suggestions.
Tell him you need half the money up front to cover expenses, said Dog.
Perfect, said Jack. Get to work Tony.
Jack approved Tonys message and directed him to send it.
Tony hesitated. If Carlos returns to the empty op-house and cant contact me, hell freak and
e-mail Andrews. Your plan will blowup in our faces.
Not an issue, said Jack. Carlos is dead. A Predator shot a video of Carlos on the deck of a
yacht as we spoke on your sat phone in your op-house. Two Hellfire missiles impacted the yacht
and ignited the fuel tanks, which disintegrated the boat and Carlos. He exhaled. I hope we didnt
wait too long to respond to Cole.

CHAPTER 89
An alert from the laptop signaled a received e-mail and allayed Jacks concerns about the
connection with Cole Andrews. He opened the message.

I need to procure your funds in the morning. Meet me at 11:00.

Jack pounded a closed fist on the table. Were in business, Cole bought in. He eased out a
slow exhale. Since he mentioned no location, I assume theres a fixed site for your meetings.
We met with him once when we set up Vengador as his crew, so I assume he means the
same location.
When you say we, do you mean you and
Excuse me Jack, interrupted Dog. I need the site info to get started on the setup, and then
you can have him.
Youre right Dog, I apologize, said Jack as he nodded approval to Tony.
We met in a picnic cabaa in Herring Run Park just east of Lake Montebello in Baltimore.
Give me a description.
It has a low concrete block wall and several columns to support the metal roof and frame the
entry door. The park ranger unlocks the door and accordions the metal panels open when a large
party makes a reservation.
Dog rubbed his shaved head and paused. How does Andrews have access?
He arranged with the ranger to unlock the door and not open the panels.
Whats the light level in the closed room?
Dark, said Tony, one click above pitch-black.
Dogs volume increased. How the hell do you conduct a meeting if you cant see?
They installed overhead neon lights in case bad weather forces the guests to close the
accordion panels. The timer switch is on the wall next to the door.
Alright, off to work I go. Hes all yours Jack, said Dog as he left the room.
He resumed the conversation with Tony, Where did we leave off?
I believe you wanted to know if Carlos attended the meeting with Andrews, and the answer
is yes.
Makes sense for him to go face-to-face with the crew chief before he hired you.
Carlos insisted on the meeting, said Tony. It surprised me when Andrews agreed.
Jack shook his head. You negotiated the agreement, why did he need to meet with
Andrews?
I wondered too, but I needed the liaison job and ignored my curiosity. Didnt take long to
learn of Carlos separate agenda, which explained his insistence to meet with Andrews, said Tony.
He fed us bullshit about an assignment to surveil a high-level CIA double agent, and he needed
his manset to begin work at the Agency in a weekassigned to the target for training.
They struck a deal. If Andrews got his man assigned to the target, Carlos agreed to handle his
needs. With a handshake, the meeting ended.
You refer to Cooper and Danny Hunter.
Tony sat motionless with a blank stare. If you already know this shit, why do you need me?
To fill in the holes.
The info from Tony served his purpose and made sense. Andrews set up the training
assignment without the Presidents knowledge, which gave Jack a degree of comfort but did not

absolve all of the Presidents sins.

When did you learn Carlos real agenda Tony?
Five weeks later when the breaking news of Coopers car bombing opened the five-oclock
broadcast. I felt sick to my stomach.
Tell me about the warhead and the kidnapping.
Tony eyes squinted. First Ive heard of either one, he said.
Jack believed him and opted not to distract Tony with outside issues.
Dog stepped in to deliver an update. I sent a techie from our Baltimore service unit to inspect
the cabaa.
Whats the verdict?
Tricky because of the barren room, he said, but he can hide mini-cams and a sound pickup
where the metal coverings meet the block columns. Hell be setup and tweaked before the meeting
starts.
Why do you need audio and video? asked Tony.
Confused, Dog replied, to record your meeting with Andrews.
Nobody mentioned a meeting. I thought you intended to neutralize him.
Andrews is part of a more important objective, said Jack. We want the President to reverse
his milquetoast CIA policies, and a video of his Golden Boy soliciting an assassination will put us
in control.
Let me be sure I understand your strategy, said Tony. You want me to be in a video you
will use to blackmail the President of the United States.
Good synopsis Tony.
Are you crazy? he spat. My balls will be on the chopping block.
If you adhere to my instructions, youll be fine.
This is Washington Jack, nothing ever follows the script. Its too risky.
Jack raised his hand with a small gap between his thumb and forefinger. Youre this close to
walking away a free man Tony. Dont screw it up.

CHAPTER 90
Baltimore, Maryland
Herring Run Park
Jack waved as he passed by to the coffee urn before he joined Dog at the dining table. He saluted
with the mug. Thank you.
My pleasure, said Dog. Did you sleep well?
Like a baby. Up every two hours.
I dont blame you Jack. We have a make-or-break meeting to bury Andrews.
Youre right Dog. The President was adamant about irrefutable proof before he considered
action against him, and this is our one opportunity to acquire it. I hope Andrews doesnt change his
mind about the meeting.
Hes desperate, hell show, said Dog. My concern is Tony. Hes not committed to the
plan.
Without him, were out of business. Ill rehearse his responses on our flight.
I hope two hours gives you enough time.
He managed a slight grin and a weak nod.
Dog checked the time. We need to wake up Tony and get him ready.
Jack scanned the room. Wheres Ryder?
In Baltimore to assess the site and design the surveillance with our techie, hell meet us at the
Fort Meade heliport.
Ryder stood beside a grey BMW 328i, his back turned to the Blackhawk helicopter to shelter his
eyes from the rotor wash.
He used the forty-minute drive to brief Dog and Jack on the site setup.
At the eastern edge of the park, Ryder circled around the cul-de-sac and parked in front of a
beige step van, their mission control center.
A wall mounted LED screen showed muddled shades of dark grey with no discernable
shapes.
Damn near pitch-black, said Dog. I hope we have enough light for our camera shots.
You wont be disappointed, said Ryder. He directed their attention to a laptop with a live
exterior view of the cabaa.
Dog studied the crisp, sunlit picture for a moment. Good description Tony.
He responded with a nervous, preoccupied nod.
Relax man, said Dog. Stick with what you and Jack rehearsed and youll be fine.
I have to get in position, said Ryder as he checked the time. He tossed the Beemers key to
Tony. You need the fancy ride. I get to use the old VW bug. He flashed a handheld walkie-talkie
at Dog. Ill let you know when our boy arrives.
Ryder alerted them to Andrewss arrival, which addressed Jacks first concern, he showed.
Jack shared Dogs trepidation and focused his attention on Tony. Would he meet with
Andrews or drive out of the park to perceived freedom?
All eyes locked on the laptop when Andrews entered the cameras field of view from the
parking lot. The large screen came to life from the open doors lowlight, and a dim, but discernable
view from each of the cameras showed on the four-split display. Andrews twisted the timer switch

mounted next to the casing and waited for the neon lights to activate before he closed the door. He
set a small canvas tote on the concrete picnic table centered in the room, and sat on the metal bench
anchored to the floor to face the door.
The four bright and clear camera views eliminated Dogs adequate lighting concern. Were in
business.
Jack gave Tony a final briefing. He pointed to the lower left quadrant of the large screen.
This is the camera shot well use. Sit a half body width to your right from direct opposite Andrews
to give us a clear view of him. Remember to face him and not turn your head if you want your
identity protected. We cant edit the shot or well lose our credibility.
The half-hearted nod from Tony did not instill confidence in Jack, but with no option, he
proceeded. Lets do it.
Tony left and Jack sat in a folding metal chair, a concerned look on his face.
Whats the matter bud? said Dog.
We have one chance to nail Reynolds. If Tony opts out of the meeting and drives away,
were screwed.
A smug grin showed on Dogs face. Ryder has our back. Hes waiting where Tony turns
onto the spur road in case he bails on us.
Jack cocked his head. How the hell can Ryder chase him down with the VW bug?
He has a remote ignition kill switch for the Beemer.
A grin invaded Jacks face. I should never doubt you.
Dog nodded thanks and completed the update. Ryder will relocate near the Cabaa once
Tony goes inside. If the meeting sours and we feel Tony is at risk, Ill transmit a Code Red for
him to intervene.
A crackle sounded on the two-way radio followed by Ryders voice, Code green.
All eyes shifted from the laptops exterior view to the four-split on the large screen as Tony
entered the cabaa.
He followed Jacks instructions to use his e-mail tag name. Hello Miner, how are you
today?
Depends on the outcome of our meeting, he said.
Tony nodded as he sat on the bench opposite Andrews.
Jack pumped his fist in approval when Tonys offset position gave a clear view of Andrews.
I expected Vengador to be with you.
The two-hour briefing with Jack on the flight bored him at the time, but the expected question
and rehearsed response filled Tony with confidence.
Hes out-of-town on a project, but we spoke last night and agreed to accept your project.
Hell return tomorrow.
Good, said Andrews. Lets get to business. He pulled two photos from his inside coat
pocket and slid them across the picnic table. The top picture is my high-level, primary target.
Tony recognized the uniformed man, but Jack wanted Andrews to say his name for maximum
effect on the video. Who is he?
Colonel Richard Sholtz, the current head of the National Security Agency.
Wow, you werent kidding when you classified him as a high-level official.
Andrews frowned. Does this affect your decision to do the job?
Not at all, but we need adequate time to plan the accident. Given his identity, the
investigators will drill down on every detail.

I understand. Take the time you need, but expediency is an issue.

The second photo surprised Tony, but he continued the charade. Whos this?
One of the Generals puppets, his name is Jack McDuff. If you happen to encounter and
eliminate him in the process, Ill pay you an additional ten-thousand.
Fair enough, said Tony.
So, do we have a deal?
Yes we do.
Andrews pushed the canvas tote across the concrete table.
Tony unzipped the bag with banded stacks of hundred-dollar bills enclosed.
Ill wait while you do a count.
I trust you, said Tony. He all but choked on his words.
Alright, he said as he stood. Give me five minutes to exit the park before you leave.
Tony deserves an Oscar for his performance, said Jack.
The techie handed Dog the laptop. I downloaded the live feed to save time. Click the icon on
the desktop for access.
Lets verify the playback, so I can move to the next step, said Jack. Are the e-mails
loaded?
I put them in last night, said Dog.
Tony entered as the video ended.
You missed your calling Tony, said Jack.
Thank you, I had fun once I got the hang of it.
Jack excused himself to make a phone call. Outside, he speed dialed Sholtzs sat-phone.
Whats up Jack?
Something you need to see regarding Cole Andrews.
Damn man, youre beating on a cast-iron piata.
Not this time Rick.
Sholtz paused. Can you meet me at OBanions in an hour?
Ill be there.
Dog watched the conversation from the step van.
Jack concluded his call and waved at Dog in the step van to join him. I have a meeting across
town in an hour and need wheels. Can you take me to a car rental agency?
Take the Beemer. Leave it in the hotels parking lot with the key in the center console. The
local team will pick it up tomorrow.
Youre a lifesaver Dog.

CHAPTER 91
OBanions Irish Pub
Each minute elevated Jacks mood as he waited for Sholtz. With Cole Andrews the last of the
unfinished business, the laptops proof marked the end of Jacks mission. He could walk away with
satisfaction for a job well done.
Bright sunlight flooded the bar and Jack spun his barstool to the entrance as the door eased
shut behind Sholtz. He swiveled to the bartender with two fingers raised.
Sholtz saluted Jack with his pint of Guinness and cleared access to the banquet room with the
young man behind the bar.
Thanks for coming, said Jack as he set up the laptop. You seemed reluctant when I
requested the meeting.
Up to my ass in paperwork when you called, he said, but when you hinted at a new, juicy
Andrews tidbit, how could I refuse? Besides, he said as he sipped his beer, this won the appeal
battle over being chained to my damned desk. What have you got?
Jack opened the e-mail. This is the communication between Andrews and his dirty-tricks
crew.
Sholtz read the last e-mail and sat in stunned silence. My GodI know Andrews has no hint
of a conscious to get what he wants, but I never dreamed hed take his agenda to the assassination
level.
Surprised me too Rick.
Your intel puts me in a hell of a spot. Im obligated to inform the President, but with no proof
Andrews is Miner, hell shoot me down. I have no idea what hell do with the intel. Do you know
the targets identity?
Jack double-clicked the videos icon to deliver the coup de gras.
Expressionless, Sholtz watched the short video. He wants both of us dead. How did you get
your hands on this gem?
The other man is the liaison with Andrews Dirty Tricks crew. A little persuasion
convinced him to respond to his e-mail and set the meeting.
You kept his face from view, will he testify?
Yes he will. However, for his political survival, the President will fight to the death to avoid a
trial, so I doubt well need the testimony.
I concur, said Sholtz. I need copies of the e-mails and the video.
The irrefutable proof forced Sholtz to a showdown with the President, and ended Jacks
mission. He pushed the laptop toward Sholtz. All yours.
Thank you Jack, but I need to call the President, and protocol does not permit your presence,
nothing personal. Ill open the door when you can return.
With his mission over, Jacks hatred of the Washington protocol bullshit did not surface. No
problem Rick, I understand.
Sholtz speed-dialed the Presidents direct line.
President Reynolds office, how may I help you?
Hello Kim. This is General Sholtz, is he available?
I believe so Sir. Let me check.
Within a minute, the President came on the line. Hello Rick, whats up?

I need to see you with new intel Ive acquired Mr. President.
Let me check my schedule. He paused. I can squeeze you in at ten in the morning. Come
to my office.
Is a more private location possible?
What the hell is this about?
Cole Andrews.
Jesus Rick, we covered him at the Camp David meeting.
This new data has just come to light.
So, youve jumped on McDuffs bandwagon.
No Sir, Im serving my Commander-in-Chief.
Very well, said Reynolds. Well meet in the Rose Garden.
Sholtz closed the call and opened the door.
Jack stepped in with two pints of Guinness and a curious expression.
Ten oclock tomorrow in the Rose Garden, said Sholtz.
This will close the book on Cole Andrews.
I hope so.

CHAPTER 92
The White House
Cole Andrews thought better on his feet than chained to his desk. He paced a familiar path to
develop re-election campaign strategies. Drawn to the window by the clear blue sky of a beautiful
day, motion below drew his attention. Two men, a Secret Service agent and a uniformed Army
officer, walked the path to the Rose Garden.
The military mans face was not visible from his second-story vantage point, but his gait and
build led Cole to a fearful conclusion.
He checked the Presidents schedule on his desktop computer. The last minute addition of
General Sholtz to the calendar verified his concern.
Panic loosed a myriad of questions with no answers and he succumbed to paranoia. His
presence at the White House placed him in harms way with time a critical factor.
Cole quick packed his laptop and briefcase to make a hasty departure.

CHAPTER 93
The Rose Garden
The Secret Service agent escorted General Sholtz to a redwood gazebo in the Rose Garden to wait
for the President.
He turned the laptop on to review his talking points as he waited for the Presidents late
arrival.
Im behind schedule Rick and can only give you fifteen minutes.
The shortened meeting time forced Sholtz to truncate his presentation. A flush of anger
surfaced.
Cole Andrews is bad news for you Mr. President.
The reply telegraphed his impatience. Whats the basis for your assessment?
With time at a premium, Sholtz jumped into his setup plan. He opened the e-mail program and
rotated the laptop on the redwood bench to face Reynolds.
Whats this?
Communication between Andrews and his dirty-tricks crew. Skim through the e-mails.
Reynolds obliged, and his look of disdain grew through the process.
I saw nothing to connect Andrews to this crew. His name didnt appear once in any
message.
Miner is Cole Andrews.
Do you expect me to take action based on your belief? I need proof.
Sholtz double-clicked the video icon.
Gape jawed; Reynolds watched in disbelief and pressed a speed dial number on his cell
phone. Secure Cole Andrewsand Garveybe discreet.
He next called his admin. Free up my schedule for the next hour Kim.
Whos the mystery man in the video Rick?
Andrews liaison with the crew, he set up the meeting to expose him.
Who shot the video?
I dont know.
Reynolds opened the incoming call and listened. Thank you Garvey.
He reconnected with Kim. Use my secure laptop to e-mail Zebra with a locate and detain
order for Cole Andrews. Mark it top priority Kim with not a word to anybody.
The Presidents decision for Zebra Company to find Andrews signaled his intent to bury the
incident from public scrutiny and gave Sholtz valuable insight.
Andrews made a hurried departure after your arrival, said Reynolds.
Sholtz nodded. Something spooked him.
He told his admin personal business required his attention for several days. My protection
detail asked her to call his cell phone and he did not answer. I am convinced his actions verify your
intel.
I concur, said Sholtz.
The flurry of activity abated, and Reynolds posture relaxed. He leaned back on the redwood
bench. Thanks for your help Rick.
My pleasure Sir.
Reynolds sat erect and stretched his back. Well, time to go to work.

Sholtz fired a final volley. I need a few more minutes of your time Sir to discuss the defanged
CIA.
His body stiffened. Tension returned and tightened his face. The Agency is not a good topic
at this time Rick.
Theyre a critical issue in need of immediate resolution. Luck isnt the best policy to uncover
plots against our country.
Reynolds exhaled. Believe it or not Rick, I agree with you.
Sholtz smiled. Well hell, lets fix it now Sir.
Its complicated, he said. Andrews slipped the Gitmo water boarding news onto my
election platform and built the damn thing into a major plank to appeal to the liberal voters. After
the election, he convinced me to fulfill the campaign promise to maintain the liberal vote for the reelection campaign. If I reverse my position, their support will evaporate and kill my re-election
bid.
An eighteen-month delay is not feasible Sir. We need boots on the ground as soon as
possible to gather intel for our countrys protection.
I agree Rick, but how do we keep a reinstatement under wraps for eighteen-months until the
election?
The concept of Reynolds re-election being more important than Americas security rankled
Sholtz. He choked back his boiling anger, as only the President could accomplish the objective. A
solution surfaced. Set it up like MECA.
How do you know about MECA? Reynolds said, stunned.
Dont be nave Sir. I commanded the military covert-ops in the Middle East and worked with
many of those guys. He tired of the verbal volleyball and pushed for a resolution. Bailey created
the MECA plan. Let him do the same for the rest of the Agency.
Reynolds brow wrinkled. Ill call the Director todayI hope to God this works.

CHAPTER 94
The Westin Hotel
Jack adjusted the showerhead to pulse. The hot water pounded his taut back muscles as his
thoughts drifted through the missions recent events and status. Sholtz had a meeting with the
President in two hours, and Jack hoped for an optimal resulta return to intel fieldwork for the
Agency and the shutdown of Cole Andrews. With no scenario in play to involve him, he assured
Mary and his folks over dinner last night his part of the mission was complete. He expected an
update, but nothing to require his participation.
Wrapped in a thick, oversized white terrycloth robe, Mary slid open the glass shower door.
Care for company?
Yes I do, he said with a devilish smile, but you know where this will lead, and the folks
expect us for breakfast.
I called and changed it to brunch.
Youre a genius.
Her white robe collapsed into a crumpled pile on the bathroom floor.
Jack, Mary, and his folks sipped coffee at a large, round table in the Padella restaurant. They
engaged in lighthearted conversation while they waited for the server to return for their brunch
orders.
A tone from Jacks sat phone hushed the table.
Just an update, he said to quell their concerns.
En route to the quiet lounge, Jack answered the call. Dogs voice, not the expected Sholtz,
surprised him.
Hey Dog, whats up?
Im sorry to interrupt your quiet time with the family.
No problem, call me anytime.
Five minutes ago, we received an e-mail from the President with a directive to locate and
detain Cole Andrews.
This makes no sense. Im confused. Are you positive the directive came from the President?
We verified his designated, secure laptop as the source.
Dogs timeframe added to the mystery. The President sent the e-mail from the scheduled
meetings timeslot with Sholtz in the Rose Garden. Did they reschedule? He received no update
from Sholtz. What spooked Andrews? Jack decided to shelve the questions until he spoke to Sholtz
and resumed his conversation with Dog.
Zebra Companys not structured for the locate function, why did he assign you?
He doesnt want to see it on CNN.
I understand Dog. Whats your chance of success?
Wed need to trip over him.
Their dilemma forced Jack to thought. I have an idea. If we convince Andrews that Tony
completed the mission, it will flush him out Dog.
Damn Jack, I like your devious mind. Well work on a plan, and Ill update you on the
progress.
I look forward to the call.
Jacks sat phone interrupted his exit from the lounge. He returned to the corner booth for

privacy.
Good to hear from you Rick. Where are you?
Im halfway to my office from the White House.
The response answered a major question; they did not reschedule the meeting. Did your Rose
Garden chat with the President go well?
Yes it did, he said. I convinced him to reinstate the Agencys field operations. Bailey will
structure a MECA style plan to maintain secrecy, at least until the election.
Youre the hero Rick.
Oh no, I only delivered the message.
Dont be shy, you closed the deal.
Not without help from a lot of other people, including you.
Fair enough, said Jack. He broached the second issue. I understand Andrews dropped from
sight.
True, he said. Well find him, and slam the door shut on him forever.
Jack elected not to give Sholtz Zebras status until Dog called with his plan to flush out
Andrews. He closed the call, Lets stay in touch.
He rejoined Mary and his folks in the restaurant.

CHAPTER 95
With Jack at a mission standstill until Dog updated him, he cleared his mind to enjoy brunch with
Mary and his folks and relished a taste of the good life they would return to in the near future.
He retreated to the lounge to answer his sat-phone.
I cant believe you put this together in an hour Dog.
One of our strong suits, he said. Are you ready for the plan?
Lay it on me.
Late this afternoon, a small boat will catch fire and explode on Chesapeake Bay. Our friends
from the local news channels will shoot helicopter feeds for their evening broadcasts. They will
announce a tentative identity for the victim, General Richard Sholtz, head of the National Security
Agency.
Brilliant! said Jack. Tony can message Andrews to meet for his final payment, and well
nail him.
Youre tuned in Jack. After we secure the bastard, our friends will broadcast a mistaken
identity for the General.
I cant see why it wont work Dog.
Theres one problem. We need Sholtz to disappear mid-afternoon until we secure Andrews,
he cant be at work when the boat blows up. Can you make the arrangements for us?
Jack dropped his head. Theres no way to keep a secret in this crazy business, how did he
know Sholtz was his contact, he thought. Let me see what I can do Dog.
We need a status within the hour to give our media friends a green light to meet their
deadlines.
Ill let you know, said Jack. He closed the call and contacted Sholtz.
Hey Jack, do you already have an update for me?
The local news channels will cover a boating accident on Chesapeake Bay in their broadcasts
today. Theyll identify you as the victim. We want Andrews to believe the bogus hit we set up with
him is complete so we can lure him in for capture.
You didnt tell me you setup Andrews.
Sholtz made a good point, and Jack needed a good response.
We kept a tight lid on the operation Rick. Secrecy was paramount to our success, and
Andrews has ears all over this town.
Alright, but well discuss this over a beer sometime.
My treat Rick.
Ill hold you to it, said Sholtz with a laugh. Anything else?
We need your help to make the plan work.
Hell yes Jack, what can I contribute?
Leave your office and stay out of sight until we capture Andrews.
I need to tell Andy and my admin. Theyll play the game.
No problem Rick. Ill call you when we take him into custody. The stations will announce
their mistaken identity reported in the original broadcast.
Jack called Dog with the go-ahead news and returned to his family in the restaurant.
We need to watch the five oclock news.

CHAPTER 96
Jacks sat-phone interrupted his half-trance state from the running waters drone of Marys shower.
I expected an update after last nights news, what happened Dog?
After the broadcasts, Tony sent an e-mail for a meeting to complete their business and
Andrews hasnt responded.
Jack slammed his hand into the pillow. Damn, he had to believe the media coverage.
I agree, but hes on the run and unsure of a course of action.
Whats next?
Tony will send him a threat to expose his kill contracts. To protect his reputation, he wont
want his bad deeds in the public domain. We choppered to Baltimore last night to be in position for
a rapid response to the meeting.
You sound confident.
Hell reply.
Call me right away. I want to be at the finish line.
This is a routine capture Jack. Spend the time with your family. Ill update you.
Andrews ordered a hit on me Dog. I earned the right to open the cabaa door and see the
look on his face.
I cant argue with the logic Jack, Ill call you.
Steam oozed from the bathroom like a San Francisco fog bank when Mary opened the door.
Wrapped in the oversize terrycloth robe, she settled next to Jack on the king-size bed. The
bathroom is all yours. Ill dress while you shower. When were ready, Ill call your folks to meet
for breakfast.
Jack preferred to give Mary the bad news after Dog called with the meetings time, but did not
have the luxury. I need a favor. Cole Andrews capture is set for today. Dog will call me with the
time. Will you keep mom occupied so she doesnt worry?
She hesitated. Ill do it for her sake under one condition. Regardless the outcome today, your
mission is finished.
He nodded in agreement and answered the call from Dog.
One hour Jack, you need to hustle.

CHAPTER 97
Baltimore, Maryland
Herring Run Park
Jack parked behind Dogs Humvee in the cul-de-sac and checked the time as Dog approached.
You cut this kinda close man.
He chuckled. Hell, weve got five minutes.
Dog shook his head and pressed the talk button on a hand-held walkie-talkie. Were green.
Get in position.
Whos on the crew Dog?
Ryder and two men from the local operation, he said and moved to the passenger side. Ill
ride with you partway.
Jack eased to a stop on the spur road, short of visual contact with the cabaa. End of the line
Dog.
He stepped out and leaned into to the Jeeps open window. Oh by the way Jack, not enough
time to set up surveillance, no eyes or ears.
Perfect, he said. No record of our meeting.
Dog grimaced. I have a directive to place Andrews in custody, which means he has to be
alive and in good condition. The outcome of this meeting will reflect on me.
A nod from Jack eased his anxiety.
What a beautiful day for a finale, he thought on the short walk from the parking lot to the
Cabaa.
Greeted by a wide-eyed gawk of surprise, Jack grinned. Not who you expected?
His mirth changed to a new reality when Cole pulled a Glock 9mm pistol from the canvas tote
on the picnic table. Fail to see the humor now Mister McDuff?
Coles agenda was crystal-clear. He intended to kill Tony to tie off the loose end and save the
twenty-five grand payment. Jack, an equally important issue for Cole, had delivered himself on a
platter in Tonys place.
Jack filled with self-anger for his disregard of basic black ops procedures. He never
considered this scenario since Cole always paid others to do his dirty work, and now found himself
in a dire situation. The Zebra crews lone expectation was for Jack to bring out Cole. A gunshot
would alert them to the unexpected danger but too late to save him.
With no means of escape and unable to alert the crew to his jeopardy, Jack needed to engage
Cole in conversation for any chance of survival. He bluffed.
You need to know something before you get trigger-happy Cole, were recording this
meeting, both audio and video.
Do you expect me to believe that horseshit?
How do you think we convinced the President youre the bad guy? He saw the video we
made when you set up the Sholtz hit with Tony.
Well, if thats true, said Cole, what the hell do I have to lose?
The response magnified Jacks desperation as Coles body language telegraphed his growing
anxiety.

With no option, Jack pressed on. Dont be stupid, Sholtz is not dead.
You gotta learn to bluff better Jack; every local channel covered the story.
We staged the accident to draw you out.
The Glock quivered in Coles hand. He extended his arm with the pistol pointed at Jacks
chest. You know what? I dont believe a goddamn word youve said.
With Cole pushed to a fragile point, time became Jacks major concern. Behind him, the light
timers soft ticks suddenly echoed like Big Ben in his ears and gave birth to a possible solution. His
life depended on a continued conversation.
With Sholtz alive, you know the President will make certain you dont go to trial. Thats the
last thing he wants to happen.
Coles arm stiffened with his finger on the trigger. Im sick of your bullsh
The timer clicked. Jack dropped to the floor. The muzzle flash lit the pitch-black room for
milliseconds and guided Jack to the end of the concrete picnic table. The Glocks loud report in the
hollow room rang in his ears.
Stalemated in the blackness, Jack readied himself for Dogs crew to react to the gunshot.
The door opened wide and flooded the room with lowlight.
Cole fired at the open doorway and swung the pistol toward Jack. In midair, Jack pushed the
pistol up and redirected the aim. The imploded neon tubes showered the concrete table and floor.
He slammed Cole into the concrete block column. His lungs emptied with a single, loud rush of air.
Jack moved behind the gasping man. He placed one hand on the rear of his head, and another
on his chin. Dogs voice froze him.
Dont do it Jack.
He relaxed his grip and pushed Cole away in disgust. I was tempted.
Dog directed the local crewmembers to secure Cole in their safe house then turned to Jack and
Ryder. We need to get the hell away from here before the local cops respond to shots fired 911
calls.
With the Jeep parked in the cul-de-sac, Dog tossed Ryder the Humvee key. Lets make it
official.
He returned with three unlabeled home brews from the cooler in the rear seat, Dogs routine to
mark the end of a successful mission.
Jack raised the beer in salute. Ive enjoyed working with you guys again. Thanks for your
help.

CHAPTER 98
The Westin Hotel
Jack tied off the loose ends before he joined Mary and his folks in the Padella restaurant.
They drank a second home brew at the park, and he convinced Dog to release Tony with Cole
Andrews twenty-five grand for seed money.
En route to the hotel, Jack updated Sholtz with the news of Cole Andrews capture.
Bailey offered Agency reinstatement to Jack. He thanked him and declined for lifestyle
reasons, which Bailey understood.
Brian approved his Jeeps storage if they promised to spend a day and night with him in
Miami. Jack agreed.
Mary and his folks celebrated the end-of-mission news with Jack.
Anxious to return home, Art and his mother booked a morning flight to San Diego.
Early the next day, Jack and Mary set out on the two-day drive to Miami, the onset of their
journey home to the good life.

CHAPTER 99
National Security Agency
Fort Meade, Maryland
General Sholtz removed the flash drive from his desktop computer. He clicked the intercom and
asked his assistant Andy to come to the office.
What can I do for you Sir?
I received a flash drive from Colonel Belson with a different camera angle of the Monkey
Business attack. He handed the drive to Andy. Ask Tiffany to set up the playback on a big
screen.
Right away Sir. He paused. I dont understand why the Colonel took two weeks to get this
to you.
Sholtz hesitated. Do you recall how confused the second Predator at the attack site made
you?
He nodded. I remember your need to know comment.
Well, Ive changed my mind.
Andy sat erect, attentive.
The Pentagon agreed to share intelligence with Israel. The protocols designed to function on
the governmental level proved useless for field operations, a common problem.
We met with Metsada, Israels black ops group, to adjust the protocols for field use, a
common practice. Our deal included Predator surveillance.
The second drones presence now makes sense Sir, thank you.
Sholtz completed the explanation of the undercover arrangement. To ensure secrecy of our
sub rosa activities, we limited contact with Metsada to our Middle-East HQ.
When Colonel Belson confirmed my suspicions about the second Predator, I requested a
copy of Metsadas surveillance video for our file. With no reason for me to make a priority demand,
he routed the flash drive via the normal slow boat channel.
The trust Sholtz placed in him swelled Andys chest with pride. Ill call you when were
ready Sir.
Sholtz appreciated the quick setup. When he viewed the video on his computer, the small screen
lacked the detail needed to assess a concern. He entered op-room two.
Hello Tiff, how are you?
She smiled. Im fine Sir.
He locked his eyes on the big screen with a paused view of the yachts bow.
Metsadas view is a direct opposite of ours, said Andy.
We need to pay close attention to the action, said Sholtz. Carlos stood on the bow, a satphone pressed to his ear. Run the video Tiff.
Carlos struggled to keep his balance as the deck pitched and yawed in the stormy sea. The
Hellfires sudden explosion in the yachts stern combined with a severe upward pitch of the bow
catapulted Carlos into the angry sea. Seconds later, the next missile struck the yacht amidships. A
massive ball of fire from the ignited fuel tanks filled the screen.
The Predators camera scanned the disintegrated yachts widespread debris field for several
minutes in search of survivors. Storm driven waves helped subdue the fire field. Locked on a larger

chunk of flotsam, the camera zoomed in for a close-up view.

Andy blurted, My God, Carlos was alive. How the hell did he survive the attack?
A combination of his Navy Seal training and dumb luck, said Sholtz.
With weather conditions in a state of rapid decay, the Predator cams view retracted and the
screen blanked.
Whats your take Andy?
We need to notify Jack.
Not unless Carlos survived, which I doubt. He needed to ride out a direct hit from the storms
eye wall and sixteen hours of typhoon driven seas. I put his chance of survival at a thousand times
greater than winning the lottery.
Search and rescue never found his body.
Hell Andy, the storm stretched out the debris field two-hundred miles. Jack and his fiance
deserve some worry free time after this mission.
General Sholtz stood and stretched.
Thank you Tiffany.
The End
Thank you for taking time to read The Saladin Strategy. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling
your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an authors best friend and much
appreciated.
Amazon book link - getBook.at/sadbk

Authors Note
The missing warhead in the book is based on an actual incident, though I took liberties with the
outcome for the benefit of the story. If you desire an in-depth report, please check the following on
Wikipedia entitled: 2007 United States Air Force nuclear weapons incident
http://goo.gl/OF2n5a
Author contact links
Authors webpage http://normclarkauthor.weebly.com
Facebook www.facebook.com/norm.clark.12
Twitter https://twitter.com/Norm_Clark

Table of Contents
Copyright
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER 79
CHAPTER 80
CHAPTER 81
CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 83
CHAPTER 84
CHAPTER 85

CHAPTER 86
CHAPTER 87
CHAPTER 88
CHAPTER 89
CHAPTER 90
CHAPTER 91
CHAPTER 92
CHAPTER 93
CHAPTER 94
CHAPTER 95
CHAPTER 96
CHAPTER 97
CHAPTER 98
CHAPTER 99
Authors Note