trained not to be seen."
"Burnt to a crisp. But it was clutching something. It had curled around it, protected it with its life. Looked like an egg."
"The eyewitnesses described some pretty bad ass hand-to-hand techniques."
"But it's still hot, and before we can get it open, another team shows up. We heard them coming, thought they'd be Russian."
"Do you know what poor Alvin Millard did before the accident that put him in a coma?"
"But they were private security. Contractors. Only not like any I'd ever seen."
"He was a helicopter technician. Guidance systems, mostly. Gyroscopes or something."
"They had some crazy tech. And signed, authenticated orders for us to hand over everything to them."
"According to his records, the last combat training he received was in basic ."
"They knew about us, knew we'd be there. And the Russians never showed."
"You and I both know about the only thing they teach in basic these days is how to follow orders and piss in a pot."
"That smoking hulk was something, but those orders are by far the damnedest thing I've ever seen."
"Since he's in a coma and can't do physical therapy, he may never walk right."
Regent stopped and the pair stared into each other in the eyes.
John went on. "Their uniforms, their tech, it all had that symbol on it. Looks like there's a new team in the spy league, and it looks like they're winning."
"Listen, brother--"
"Ha! That why they sent you? They think you my sista?"
"No, they sent me because I'm damned good at what I do."
"But here you is leanin' on it."
"Come off it--"
"I ain't your brutha." Regent leaned into it. "My granddad taught me what it means to be black. It's about a helluva lot more than the color of your skin. You stopped being black a long time ago."
Ayn did her best, but John was serious, and it stung.
Ethan walked over and looked down at John. He was worried. "John." Very worried. "It's Gabe."
"Shit." Esme must have said something.
Ethan was pale. "He's upstairs."
Ayn shot Ethan a look. "The Captain and I are--"
"We're done." Regent spun his electric chair and rolled toward the elevator.
Ayn stood and held up the folder. "This was suspicious enough to get some serious people interested."
John stopped but didn't look back.
"You know the people I mean."
Ethan looked between the captain and the spy.
Ayn took a step forward. "They'll be here any minute now."
Regent looked at the clock on the wall. "But they ain't here yet." He did his best work under pressure. And his mission wasn't over. He turned to Ethan. "What floor?"
T Minus: 050 Days 13 Hours 59 Minutes 47 Seconds
"He can't go in there."
Ethan stood behind John's chair. They watched the argument from the sidelines.
"That isn't your call, Lieutenant." Amarta barely reached the young officer's chest.
The pair had a history. They squared off in a nook by the main hall of the third floor. The L-shaped building had one long hall to the right of the elevators and a shorter hall straight ahead where guards stood on either side and at both ends. The floor had been cleared as soon as Gabriel Gonzales drew his sidearm. He hadn't threatened anyone. He was just sitting, alone, holding the weapon inside Exam Room 3. It had no windows and only one door. There was no way out except past the uniformed men.
"Respectfully, ma'am, it is my call." The lieutenant was from Iowa. He was three weeks past his twenty-fifth birthday. He had called the doctor a bitch more than once, but never to her face. He was contemplating it. "Colonel Philip--"
"Isn't here!" The doctor objected. She had her back to the stairwell, but she wasn't in a corner.
"I'm responsible for the safet--"
"And I'm responsible for my patients. Corporal Gonzales is my patient. Captain Regent is my patient. The two of them have developed a certain rapport, and in my professional opinion, the best way to get Corporal Gonzales to surrender his sidearm without anyone getting hurt is to send the
"Burnt to a crisp. But it was clutching something. It had curled around it, protected it with its life. Looked like an egg."
"The eyewitnesses described some pretty bad ass hand-to-hand techniques."
"But it's still hot, and before we can get it open, another team shows up. We heard them coming, thought they'd be Russian."
"Do you know what poor Alvin Millard did before the accident that put him in a coma?"
"But they were private security. Contractors. Only not like any I'd ever seen."
"He was a helicopter technician. Guidance systems, mostly. Gyroscopes or something."
"They had some crazy tech. And signed, authenticated orders for us to hand over everything to them."
"According to his records, the last combat training he received was in basic ."
"They knew about us, knew we'd be there. And the Russians never showed."
"You and I both know about the only thing they teach in basic these days is how to follow orders and piss in a pot."
"That smoking hulk was something, but those orders are by far the damnedest thing I've ever seen."
"Since he's in a coma and can't do physical therapy, he may never walk right."
Regent stopped and the pair stared into each other in the eyes.
John went on. "Their uniforms, their tech, it all had that symbol on it. Looks like there's a new team in the spy league, and it looks like they're winning."
"Listen, brother--"
"Ha! That why they sent you? They think you my sista?"
"No, they sent me because I'm damned good at what I do."
"But here you is leanin' on it."
"Come off it--"
"I ain't your brutha." Regent leaned into it. "My granddad taught me what it means to be black. It's about a helluva lot more than the color of your skin. You stopped being black a long time ago."
Ayn did her best, but John was serious, and it stung.
Ethan walked over and looked down at John. He was worried. "John." Very worried. "It's Gabe."
"Shit." Esme must have said something.
Ethan was pale. "He's upstairs."
Ayn shot Ethan a look. "The Captain and I are--"
"We're done." Regent spun his electric chair and rolled toward the elevator.
Ayn stood and held up the folder. "This was suspicious enough to get some serious people interested."
John stopped but didn't look back.
"You know the people I mean."
Ethan looked between the captain and the spy.
Ayn took a step forward. "They'll be here any minute now."
Regent looked at the clock on the wall. "But they ain't here yet." He did his best work under pressure. And his mission wasn't over. He turned to Ethan. "What floor?"
T Minus: 050 Days 13 Hours 59 Minutes 47 Seconds
"He can't go in there."
Ethan stood behind John's chair. They watched the argument from the sidelines.
"That isn't your call, Lieutenant." Amarta barely reached the young officer's chest.
The pair had a history. They squared off in a nook by the main hall of the third floor. The L-shaped building had one long hall to the right of the elevators and a shorter hall straight ahead where guards stood on either side and at both ends. The floor had been cleared as soon as Gabriel Gonzales drew his sidearm. He hadn't threatened anyone. He was just sitting, alone, holding the weapon inside Exam Room 3. It had no windows and only one door. There was no way out except past the uniformed men.
"Respectfully, ma'am, it is my call." The lieutenant was from Iowa. He was three weeks past his twenty-fifth birthday. He had called the doctor a bitch more than once, but never to her face. He was contemplating it. "Colonel Philip--"
"Isn't here!" The doctor objected. She had her back to the stairwell, but she wasn't in a corner.
"I'm responsible for the safet--"
"And I'm responsible for my patients. Corporal Gonzales is my patient. Captain Regent is my patient. The two of them have developed a certain rapport, and in my professional opinion, the best way to get Corporal Gonzales to surrender his sidearm without anyone getting hurt is to send the
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