So far, Luke had kept his word, waiting for the backup that should arrive shortly, but he wasn’t making any promises.

He’d found Walsh’s old hunting cabin in the woods between Route 9W and Shaupeneak Ridge Park, barely more than a rusted-out metal shack with a hunting stand some two hundred feet away on the edge of a clearing.

Luke had settled in the stand, well hidden in his camouflage fatigues, Zeke lying quietly on the ground at the foot of the ladder and hidden by tall grass. Luke held a pair of binoculars to his eyes. He had a clear view of the shack through the trees while still having adequate cover.

The stolen car was parked outside, leaving little doubt Walsh was in there. But there was only one window, and so far there’d been no sight of either of the men.

The distant sound of a vehicle was followed by Mac’s voice over his comm set. “Approaching the scene. We’re on foot, about a hundred yards out.”

“Affirmative.”

He climbed down from the stand to greet the men, the shape of three people coming into view. The tallest was Mac, followed by Moto but he couldn’t place the shortest of the three.

It wasn’t until she was nearly there that he recognized her, a visceral reaction sending heat throughout his body as they made eye contact. He looked away. “Jesus, Mac. What’s she doing here?”

Mac looked from one to the other. “She was looking for you at HERO Force headquarters when the call came in. Did I forget to mention that on the phone?”

“She nearly died when you let her come to the missile silo.” Luke met her stare, struck by the pain clearly visible in those eyes. “You should wait in the car. It isn’t safe for you here.”

“Forgive me if I don’t listen to a damn thing you say. I can prove my father didn’t steal Walsh’s ideas. That’s why I’m here.”

“And you think he’s going to listen to you? He’s eighty-eight years old, for Christ’s sake. He’s blamed your father for stealing his ideas for more than half his life.”

“He’ll have to listen to me.”

“He’s losing his mind.”

She crossed her arms. “We’ll just have to wait and see what happens, then.”

“Un-freaking-believable.” He gestured to a woodpile in the distance. “Can you at least stay behind there so you don’t get hurt?”

“Your concern for me is overwhelming,” she said, but she turned on her heel and headed for the woodpile.

He exhaled heavily, shaking his head. “What the fuck were you thinking bringing her here, Mac?”

“What the fuck were you thinking sleeping with her?”

Luke eyed his commanding officer. Mac was a good friend. “That obvious?”

“Uh, yeah. Now stop thinking with your dick and smoke those old men out of that toaster oven.” He handed Luke a tear gas gun.

“You don’t think this will kill them or anything, do you? I mean, they’re really old.”

“Summer says her father’s in good physical health—aside from the blood clotting thing—and the hospital doctor thinks Walsh can handle it.”

Luke took the tear gas gun and loaded it. “Guess you’ve thought of everything.”

“I try, but I’m still hoping that old dude doesn’t fight back. Nobody wants to shoot an octogenarian. Moto, you’re with me. Let’s get into position. Whoever’s inside there is going to come out in one hell of a hurry.”

Luke muttered under his breath. “Here goes nothing. Geriatric smoke bombing, take one.” He pulled the trigger, the tear gas canister breaking the window on its way inside, the shack filling up with smoke as Luke drew his Glock, waiting.

The door opened, a plume of smoke escaping along with a gray-haired man who must be Walsh, coughing and hacking. Mac helped him to a nearby picnic table as Luke approached the shack, gun drawn.

Daniels appeared in the doorway, coughing and gasping for air. “Help me,” he said, falling into Luke’s arms, just as Summer yelled in the background, “Daddy!”

“Arrest him!” yelled Walsh. “He stole my ideas.”

Luke helped Daniels to a boulder, the old man continuing to hack as he sat down.

Walsh wasn’t letting his lack of air slow down his outrage. “This man is a thief!”

Summer approached, her hand in a brown leather briefcase as she pulled out papers. “That’s not true. He came up with the ideas by himself. These documents are from his original research.”

Walsh twisted and turned against his bindings. “Liar! He took what was rightfully mine.”

She flipped through the documents, stacking papers on the picnic table as she spoke. “Copyright, 1962. Patent pending, 1963. Utility patent, 1966.

“Let me see those,” Walsh snapped. “My glasses.” He glared at Luke. “Get the glasses from my desk.”

Luke furrowed his brow, his hands on his hips. He looked from Mac to Summer, jumping into action when he saw her expression. “On it.”

Inside the cabin was neat and tidy, with enough room for a bunk beds, a small desk, and a little refrigerator. He found Walsh’s glasses and ducked back outside, watching as the old man donned them with pale, spotted hands.

Walsh mumbled to himself several minutes before raising watery eyes to Summer’s father. “What did you do with the originals?”

“These are the originals,” said Summer. “He didn’t steal your—”

Daniels snapped at her. “I’m talking to your father.”

Luke cocked his head.

He’s aware of the present.

The passage of time.

For a moment anyway, John Walsh was really with them. Summer appeared appropriately stymied, her hands on her hips while they waited for Daniels to answer.

“Those are the originals,” said Daniels.

“No more lies!” Walsh moved more quickly than Luke thought possible, grabbing Summer with a wiry arm and pressing a kitchen knife against her throat.

Luke drew his weapon in one fluid movement the instant he realized what was happening. “Let her go,” he yelled.

“I’m an old man with nothing to lose,” Walsh sobbed. “You stole everything from me that mattered, my life’s work, my greatest achievement. You destroyed me. Now I will destroy you, too.”

Daniels stood, his arms outstretched. “Let her go.”

“I filled out those papers for you to file. You betrayed me.” A trickle of blood trailed down Summer’s neck and she whimpered.

“I was wrong. What I did was wrong,” said Daniels. “I took the patents and I rewrote them with my name. The copyrights. Everything.”

Holy shit.

Luke watched Summer’s face. She still didn’t believe it. Her father was crying and doubt firmly took root in Luke’s mind. Was it possible her father had actually wronged this man years earlier, and all of this was retribution for that act?

Walsh stood, regal with his white hair blowing in the wind. “How could you do it? I was your friend!”

Summer’s father hung his head. “You weren’t well, John. Not for years before that. But when Jenny died, you blamed the CIA, claiming they’d poisoned her.”

Walsh slammed his fist on the picnic table. “They did!”

Daniels looked around, his eyes landing on Luke’s. “He believed the United States government was out to get him. He didn’t want his discoveries used in the space program. He wanted to give them to Russia. He’d lost touch with reality. If the patents had been in his name, he would have used them to support the other side.”

Daniels leaned heavily on the table as he moved to Walsh. “You were a danger to yourself by that point, John, and to Steven, too. You were already lost to us, but we were losing the boy, too.”

Walsh dropped to the bench seat.

“Jacques and I talked,” said Daniels. “We came up with a plan. I filed the patents under my own name, and Jacques had you committed to the mental institution.”

“What gave the right to do that?”

“It was for your own good, John.” Daniels seemed to be pleading with an old friend as much as explaining what happened.

“It wasn’t your call to make.”

“The Cuban Missile Crisis had just gone down! This was no joke. These empty silos weren’t empty then. They were loaded and ready to launch at a moment’s notice. We were waiting on World War III and we had a responsibility to protect the greater good.”

“You took away my freedom.”

“Yes. Your freedom for the lives of countless others.”

Acceptable loss.

Luke’s eyes met Summer’s across the way. She was crying.

“I’m tired and I want to go home,” said Walsh. “I miss Jenny.”

Daniels reached out his hand, and to Luke’s surprise, Walsh took it. “I’m tired too, old friend,” said Daniels.

“Don’t let them take me away this time.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

The men sat together in silence. Mac moved next to Luke. “I think we’re done here.”

“Yeah.”

A distant call came from the woods. “Police!”

The men put their weapons down as the local sheriff’s deputies took over the situation. Summer’s father told them everything he’d done to Walsh and asked very politely to go to jail. The officers obliged.

Summer stood staring as they drove away, and Luke walked up to her. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “No.”

He opened his arms and she leaned into him. “I’m sorry, Summer.”

“For what?”

“For loving you. For leaving. For everything that’s happened, and because I’m not coming back.”

She nodded. “I know.” She let him go, holding his hands in hers. “I just wanted to say goodbye.” She went on her tiptoes and kissed his forehead, then turned and walked away.