Chapter Two
Mike Dorsen picked up the phone as he leaned back in his Adirondack chair and stared at the ocean waves wafting toward the shore. The view was so fucking amazing he didn’t want to miss a moment of it. The sun was setting, and the wind was picking up, but this was his first vacation in years, and he intended to enjoy every second.
He hadn’t recognized the incoming number, but that wasn’t unusual. Calls came in to him from all over the place any day of the week. That was the nature of working for the FBI. Even though he was on leave, the calls never stopped.
“Dorsen speaking.”
“Is this Mike Dorsen?” The voice wasn’t familiar.
Mike stiffened. “It is. Can I help you?”
“Yes. You don’t know me, but my name is Greg Lambert. I’m a retired commander from the US Navy.”
Mike tilted his head to one side, getting a better grip on his cell. “Okay.”
“You’re a difficult man to track down.”
“Intentionally. I’m on vacation.”
“An extended one, I hear.”
Mike frowned. How did this man know so much about him? “No rule against that.” He’d taken a leave of absence after dealing with a grueling investigation for the FBI in Chicago. He still shuddered every time he thought about all the people who’d lost their lives at the hands of the Russian mafia in the name of science. “How can I help you?”
“I’ll cut right to the chase. I got your name from a mutual friend. I need you to do a job for the US government.”
“The government? I work for the FBI. Why wouldn’t they contact me themselves?” Unease crept up his spine.
“Because this isn’t related to the FBI, nor is it above the table. This is a job for someone capable, who isn’t afraid to get their hands dirty. I’m looking for a SEAL, Mike.”
Mike flinched. He had been a SEAL. He’d worked his ass off to become one only to have the job slip through his hands after four years when his kneecap got shattered in a raid during his second tour to the Middle East. Few people knew he’d been a SEAL, not even inside the FBI. “Who are you working for again?”
“I’m working for the government, the CIA specifically, but the job is under the table. You’ll be paid heftily for your service, but no one will ever know you were involved.”
“You realize how sketchy that sounds, right? If I had any sense, I’d hang up the phone and block your number.”
Lambert chuckled briefly. “Yeah. I get that a lot.”
“You’ve made other similar calls?”
“Several. Yes. Listen, can we meet? I know you’re in Norfolk. I just need an hour of your time. I’m not far from you.”
“I suppose you also know where I’m staying?” He rolled his eyes toward the sky, cussing silently inside. Why did he know he was not going to like whatever this Greg Lambert had to say?
“Yes. You free this evening? We could meet someplace neutral, but it would be easier if I came to you so we would have the privacy this conversation deserves.”
Mike inhaled slowly. “Fine. Come at seven.” He ended the call and leaned back again. “Fuck.” Somehow he knew his perfect little getaway was about to go up in smoke.
* * *
As Greg took a seat on Mike’s cozy back porch, he rubbed his hands together, staring out at the ocean. “Your view is amazing.”
“Yes. It is.” Mike was leery. His skin had been crawling from the moment his phone rang that afternoon. Now, he was itching to get this meeting out of the way. “Tell me what you’re here for, Lambert.”
Greg sighed and leaned back, angling his body to face Mike. “I’m sure it wouldn’t shock you to hear there are terrorist sleeper cells all over the country doing their best to undermine us.”
Mike glared at him. That didn’t require a response.
Greg chuckled. “Okay, well, my job is to put those cells out of commission.”
“And you think I can help how?”
“I know your background is in biology. I also know your last assignment was with the FBI, putting an end to a Russian scheme that involved an experimental drug that would have seriously altered humanity.”
Mike winced. Okay, so this guy knew shit. A lot of shit. “That’s completely classified.”
“Yep.” Greg didn’t meet his gaze. He continued to stare at the ocean. Cocky. Confident. Knowledgeable.
“And what exactly do you need me for?”
“Got a situation with a senator. Intel suggests a group of terrorists is planning to use biological warfare against him.”
Mike held back a gasp. “Right here? On US soil?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
A few moments of silence passed. Mike closed his eyes. It wasn’t as though he could turn this guy down if it meant the life of a senator. “Look, I know my biological warfare. I’ve worked in the field. Sure. But you’re talking about a serious ballgame. Why me?”
“Because you’re available. In the area. And a SEAL.” Greg turned to face Mike, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I need someone with stealth.”
“And you want me to do what? Play bodyguard to a senator?”
“Nope.” Greg shook his head. “His daughter. And while you’re at it, perhaps you could catch this motherfucker and kill him for us.”
Mike stared at the man, trying to process what he really meant. “His kid? You want me to guard a kid?”
Greg shook his head again. “Not a child. A grown woman. She’s a lawyer. Assistant district attorney in New Haven, Connecticut. She’s been getting threatening mail and emails. The threats have gotten closer together and more disturbing. Perhaps she defended the wrong guy or put the wrong guy in jail. Who knows? But our bad guy seems to have chosen to fuck with her to get to her father.”
Mike froze, staring at the ocean. “Fuck,” he muttered.