They had switched seats after downloading Jackson’s data dump, Jasper wanting a turn at the wheel, and Matthais wanting a turn at the laptop. It was a good trade for all involved.

He had been sorting through the data from Greenville to Chesapeake, piecing together the story of how Annica got onto their own little twisted Tripoli story. By the time they made it to Virginia Beach, he’d just about nailed it. He even had a timeline, beginning with Annica taking on her first-ever story which just so happened to feature military corruption. And that story just so happened to feature Hunwick, albeit in a different scandal.

Just about the time that Matthias thought he had a good grasp of the situation, he got the call from Jackson. It was the unusually high voice from their group leader that first caught him off guard. And then his message, a breathless account of Annica’s car getting smashed by a truck, and then she and the trucker vanishing from the scene. And on top of all that, his certainty that she had been kidnapped by Hunwick’s goons.

For the first time ever, Jackson had sounded almost scared.

But it was only when Matthias could see him face to face that he knew the extent of the trauma. He first saw that face in the pale light of a residential garage, looking even more sickly than the dim glow. It was the garage of someone named David Rhodes. An upscale house in Virginia Beach. And their supposed safe house, for the time being. Jackson had been waiting for their car to pull into the garage. They met there, shut the big bay door, and then hugged each other.

Shit. Had it really been over a year?

Jackson reached his arms around Jasper, clapping him on the back, and then introduced the two of them to Mr. Rhodes, describing him as, quite possibly, their only other friend in Virginia Beach—aside from Annica.

“I know Jackson’s father,” Mr. Rhodes said with a warm, almost grandfatherly smile. He looked to be in his sixties. A military man. Short gray hair. His body was thin but still strong.

“I called my dad,” Jackson said. “And he called Mr. Rhodes.”

“Jackson actually stopped by here earlier today, didn’t you, Jackson?”

Jackson nodded sheepishly.

“Yep. Scared the hell out of my grandson.”

“I followed Annica here,” Jackson said, a look of pain replacing that of embarrassment. “She was working on a separate story, with Mr. Rhodes, about all the recent corruption scandals in the military. Hunwick is implicated in that, too.”

“I came to the same conclusion,” Matthias said. “On the drive over here, I had a chance to look at the communications between Veteran’s Valor and Hunwick’s associates. Alice McMurray in particular.”

“Birds of a feather,” Rhodes said. He motioned to a set of double doors at the end of the garage. “Come on, I’ll show you inside.”

Matthias and Jasper followed Rhodes and Jackson into the giant, nautical-themed compound. It seemed more of an operations bunker than a house, but still warm, well decorated, and stylish.

“Nice house,” Jasper said.

“It’s actually my office.”

“The whole thing?”

Rhodes led them down a flight of stairs, and then a long corridor lined with black-and-white naval photography of the Pacific Campaign. Matthias, with each passing photograph, felt his respect for Mr. Rhodes grow. He seemed like a well-seasoned naval officer. And in his day, a force to be reckoned with. Matthias just hoped that he was actually on their side.

They entered a brightly lit computer lab and Rhodes spoke. “Please, use whatever you need.”

Tansy, of course, was already there, hunched over and working away on three monitors.

Jackson finally spoke up. “Hey, Tansy, the guys are here.”

Tansy turned around, pulled a headset off his ears, and smiled. But it was a troubled, subdued smile. He and Jackson must have gone through some real shit tonight.

“I found her phone,” Tansy said.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Jackson, almost a gasp.

“Guess where?”

Jackson glared at him. “Just tell me.”

“Hunwick’s building. NSA campus.”

The groan that followed wasn’t just from Jackson, but everyone in the room—including Rhodes. It was like they’d all been collectively kicked in the balls.

But for Jackson’s men, in particular, it felt like the second kick from a familiar, infamous boot.

“God damn it,” Jasper muttered.

Jackson uttered a few curse words of his own, before saying, “Well, it looks like Hunwick is all in. This could get bloody.”

There was a silence in the room, until Rhodes, quietly and calmly, invited them to take their seats at his conference table.

Jackson, at the head of the table, was the last to sit. When he finally did, he said, “First of all, thanks for coming here. And thanks, also, to Mr. Rhodes, whose help we really needed. Tansy and I were desperate for a friend here in Virginia Beach, and with the help of my father, we found one.”

Jackson and company nodded politely and gave quiet thanks to their distinguished host.

“We’re approaching the point of no return,” Jackson continued. “I understand some of you actually have personal lives now, things to do outside the military, outside of this little fraternity. I understand, and respect that. And I envy it.” He drummed his fingers on the table, looking over all the faces of his men. “And I understand why some of you would rather just walk out that door and just walk away from all this shit. I get it. And so if that’s how you feel about it, there’d be no hard feelings. None whatsoever. Is that clear?”

There was some grumbling about that. Jasper was shaking his head.

“It’s not clear?”

Matthias spoke up. “It’s clear, Jackson. But I don’t think we’re going anywhere.” he looked around. “Right?”

“We don’t have to decide right this second,” Jackson said. “Take some time if you want—”

“No.”

“Fuck that . . .”

“Jackson, come on . . .”

“We’re all in,” Tansy said, louder than the rest. “We were all in this shit together, and we’re still in it. And it’s time to get out the right way.”

More agitated mumbling, and then growling affirmations, and then fists slamming down onto the table. They were hungry for revenge, to right an injustice that was well overdue.

They were also, apparently, just hungry. After a hearty, late dinner of steaks and potatoes prepared by Mr. Rhode’s personal assistant, they separated into the groups that would hold for the next day. Jasper and Tansy, covering the tech angle, returned to the computer bunker and hunkered down over their strategy. The duties of Matthias and Jackson, however, were a little more straightforward and tangible. And perhaps dangerous.

They went over the layout of Hunwick’s headquarters, the two of them bent over a blueprint for two hours in Rhode’s map room. Together they plotted the best options of entry and exit. The areas to avoid, the possible kill zones, the areas to exploit. Their team would be outfitted with security badges with a working clearance. A clearance high enough to get them down to the interrogation rooms in the basement. It was the location of Anncia’s phone, and, they hoped, Annica. It wasn’t much to go on, and it was little more than a stab in the dark. But it was a start.

“We’ll be doing this in a series of sweeps,” Jackson said. “Each one penetrating a little further, each one taking a little more risk. Think of the first attempt as recon, just to feel out the building. We need to be in and out in under an hour. With each entry, we’ll be going deeper until finally we’re in the basement, and, depending on what we find there, we might then go for it.”

“Go for it?”

“Grab Annica, guns blazing.”

“I thought we couldn’t get our weapons in there?”

Jackson folded up the blueprints Tansy had obtained for them, stuffing them into a cardboard tube. “We can’t carry anything heavier than a concealable pistol,” he said, walking out of the room with Matthias. “But Jasper’s working on getting the rest delivered to their shipping dock. He’s also taking out select security systems for us.”

They’d gone outside for some fresh air, and to not be surrounded completely by the plans of the next day’s operation. Jackson, in particular, looked like he could use the peace and quiet, the view of the stars through fluttering palm fronds.

“It’s a nice night,” Jackson said with a sigh. “Weather-wise.”

Matthias was first to suggest the wicker chairs, which ended up being surprisingly comfortable when they took their seats.

Jackson had been looking at him for a while, finally saying, “Just so you know, tomorrow is only the beginning.”

Matthias nodded. He figured as much. It would be a long road, starting, he hoped, with Annica’s rescue. And then he imagined what would come next, the depositions, the trials, the media. A long road indeed. And not a very fun one—particularly for Hunwick, with any luck.

“But I don’t just mean taking down Hunwick,” Jackson said. “I’m talking about us, organizing. Forming a group.”

“We are a group.”

“I mean, officially. And out of the fucking military. We’d be on our own.”

“Hmm . . .” Matthias definitely agreed with getting out of the military. “But on our own, doing what?”

“Tansy and I have been talking about forming a cybersecurity firm. But we could expand it to include all types of paramilitary service, but with an emphasis on hacking, and IT. He already does some of that as a side job, or did.”

“Well, depending on how this mission goes, and the rest of it, we might just have to become our own army.”

“So why not get paid in the process?” Jackson said.

“Get paid for taking down assholes like Hunwick?”

“And paid well.”

Matthias sat quietly for a moment, and then said, “I like how that sounds. But we should probably focus on tomorrow.”

“I know,” Jackson said. “I know. I just need some good news. Something positive. But, seriously, think about it.”

Matthias was already thinking about it. Harder than he should.