“Bubba, you got eyes?” Rocco asked his teammate.

“Crystal fucking clear. I found a deer stand, of all things. Let’s hope this bad boy can withstand my .338. If not, I’m falling about twenty feet on my ass.”

“Gumby, Ace, Phantom, you in place?” Rocco continued.

Three yeses came through the comms. We had an old hunting cabin surrounded. Rocco’s men had the north and east covered and Dec, Linc, and Jax had the south and west. Leo had found a sniper’s perch as had Bubba, the best long-range shooter on Rocco’s team.

Rocco and I stood with Zane, hidden in the tree line, waiting for him to give the orders.

“Ready to punch some tickets?” he asked.

Eleven resounding yeses called back. I was more than ready. First, Erin and me, and now Tom. Someone was about to learn the meaning of a bullet is forever. It was a lesson a man only learned once if it was properly placed. With the reputation Rocco and his team had, they didn’t miss. And neither did we.

“Leo. Bubba. Go.”

The three of us hung back and waited, and two shots rang out, both just shy of the building. We couldn’t strike the house and risk hitting Tom, but we needed to flush them out. Without eyes inside, we had no way of knowing how many there were or where they were hiding the president.

“Two tangos out the back,” Linc called in before two more shots were fired.

“Both down.”

“I see a peeker. Bubba, do you have a shot?” I asked.

“In three . . .” He never finished his countdown verbally, but when I got to one in my head, the man looking out the window crumpled from view.

“This is taking too long,” Zane complained.

“Patience, brother.” I placed my hand on his arm.

“Fuck that.” He started to move, and I grabbed him with more force.

“If you rush in there and get—”

“Grenade out the door. Cover!” Leo yelled.

My body jolted, and I stumbled back from the concussion. Zane was on his ass next to me, but I couldn’t see Rocco through all the smoke and debris.

“Rocco?”

“Good,” he answered.

“Patience,” I told Zane once again.

“They’re filing out. I see five out the front door,” Bubba announced.

“Six out the back,” Jax counted.

“Pick ’em off,” Zane ordered.

Once the three of us were back on our feet and the rapid gunfire from all around had begun to slow, it was finally our turn.

“I’m on point. Breeze, you’re my second. Rocco, take our six.”

We both acknowledged our roles and waited.

“Leo. Bubba. Lay down cover.”

Zane took off in a sprint, and I followed. We were almost to the door when a hot searing pain hit my right bicep, and my step faltered. I swung around but before I could pull the trigger, the man who’d shot me fell sideways and hit the dirt. I’d seen a lot of fucked-up shit, but a head shot from a .338 Lapua at under five-hundred-yards took the cake. A large portion of the man’s head was gone. Just gone.

We breached the door, and all hell broke loose. Men dressed in black were everywhere. Every time we’d take out a room full of them another wave came, like locusts, from the back of the house.

“Reload,” Zane called out and he dropped behind what was a table but now had more holes in it than a sieve.

“Jesus. It’s like a clown car. Where the hell are these fuckers coming from?” Rocco complained.

There was a lull, and, even though I had doubled up on hearing protection, my ears were still ringing, and my right arm was burning.

“There’s a creeper coming in the door. I don’t have a clear shot without hitting one of you. He’s there in five, four, three, two, now.”

I turned and fired two shots, he’d barely hit the dirt when I heard Leo in my ear. “You’re clear.”

“I’m runnin’ low on ammo, Z. This needs to end.”

I was down to my last hundred rounds, which sounded like a lot until it wasn’t. Then you’re left standing there with your dick in your hand getting shot full of holes.

Zane answered with a nod and began advancing into the next room. The entire place was torn to shit. The smell of gunfire hung thick in the air, coupled with the coppery smell of blood. I had to step over several men littered on the dirty cabin floor. They were everywhere. I’d seen fewer dead men in an Isis hideout.

Rocco motioned he was breaking left and moments later, he called out the all clear and joined us back in what I assumed was a dining room. Zane pointed to the only door that hadn’t been cleared. He quickly opened the door, moving to the side as he did.

I internally groaned when I saw the stairs. A basement. My least favorite room to clear. Without being able to use explosives, we were sitting ducks. As soon as we started to descend the stairs, we could be picked off by whoever was down there.

“The famous Zane Lewis, I presume.” A voice floated up.

I didn’t recognize the voice, not that I would’ve been able to with the now constant pounding in my skull.

“Please, come down and join us,” the man said.

“Not a fucking chance. Why don’t you come up here if you’re so eager to meet me?”

“You’ve gone through so much trouble and you don’t want to watch the main event?”

A crackling sound filled the basement, right before an unmistakable sound of an electrical arc penetrated through the ringing in my ears.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, just before a guttural scream came from below.

“Fuck this!”

This wasn’t good. I knew Zane was gonna take the bait and go down the stairs.

Goddamn it!

Without a plan, Zane rushed the door. He couldn’t fucking help himself. I hurried down after him and felt Rocco on my six. One hand was on my shoulder, and he used the other to point his weapon over the banister.

I damn near ran into Zane’s back when he stopped short. I hadn’t yet seen what had halted him and the moment I stepped to his side I wished I hadn’t.

Tom Anderson was tied to a chair. His white, button-down shirt was torn open and covered in blood. His face had been beaten to a pulp. I had to blink a few times to recognize him. Three square electrodes were placed on his chest. How the sticky pads adhered to his skin with all the blood dripping from his nose, down his chin, and onto his chest was beyond me. A car battery sat on the floor at Tom’s feet and the man held a cattle prod in his hand. A little over-dramatic, if you asked me. One or the other would’ve done the job. Using both on the president was overkill.

Zane hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even breathed.

Rocco had taken aim on one of the two men in the room.

“What do you want?” Zane finally spat out.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? All of this and you want nothing?”

“I already have what I came for. There’s nothing I need from you.”

“Bullshit. I don’t believe, for a second, Tom would’ve told you anything.”

“Tom?” The man chuckled. “Yes, I had heard you’re a presumptuous prick that thinks he’s one of President Anderson’s men. One of the anointed few he’s on a first name basis with. It’s a shame you’re so late. You missed all the good stuff.”

Was that jealousy I’d detected? The man sounded positively envious that Zane and the rest of us were on first name terms with the president. Something all of us had struggled with, but something Tom Anderson had demanded. There wasn’t a damn speck of pretense when it came to the president. Those closest to him, the ones he respected and trusted were asked to check the presidential title when speaking to him.

“Do it,” Tom slurred.

My gut clenched, and I tried to work out what Zane was going to do. He was the wild card. Then there was Tom. I wasn’t sure if he was taunting the man into telling Zane something.

Goddamn clusterfuck of epic proportions.

“You have to know you’re not leaving here alive,” Zane told him.

I was taken aback by my boss’s uncharacteristic calm demeanor. Zane Lewis didn’t talk. He didn’t negotiate. He simply walked into a room full of hostiles and started taking them out.

“I hadn’t figured I would. Of course, the hope was I’d live, but there are somethings a man’s willing to give his life for.”

“And what is it exactly are you willing to die for?” I asked.

“Sometimes a reminder is needed. We are the whole of everything, in all ways, all places. No one is beyond our reach, not even the President of the United States.”

“Omni.”

“Do it,” Tom slurred again, this time more forcefully.

I was done. I wasn’t waiting for the fucking lunatic to light Tom up again. I lifted my gun and pressed the trigger—once for the kill, the second for good measure. Rocco’s shot rang out, the second man hitting the concrete, and Zane moved to Tom.

“You ready?” Zane asked Tom when he cut his arms free.

“Get me the fuck out of this hell hole.”

“Do you think you can walk?”

“Does it look like the fuckers broke my goddamn legs?” Tom asked.

“No.”

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting like a pansy ass asking a bunch of questions?”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter. Zane looked properly chastised.

“What the hell are you laughing at? Took you long enough to shoot the asshole. You know what these were for?” Tom ripped the electrodes off his chest. I winced when there were three bare spots and Tom’s chest hair was left on the pads. “He shocked the fuck out of me. I’d take waterboarding any day of the week. How many teams did Tex call in?”

“Rocco’s team is outside. Last I heard, Ghost and his squad were at the White House waiting, and Wolf and his men were on a plane.”

“Good, he followed directions.”

Tom started for the stairs, and my instincts were screaming for me to help the battered man up the stairs, but I didn’t dare offer. Tom was cranky on a good day, right now, he was fucking pissed.

“We’re coming out,” I called.

“You’re clear in the front,” Bubba, a member of Rocco’s team, answered.

“Back side is good to go,” Linc returned.

“Leo. Bubba. Stay high. Everyone else, out front.”

“What in the Sam hell happened up here?” Tom looked around the destroyed house.

“We met a little resistance, sir,” Rocco supplied.

“A little? It looks like the war of 1812 in here.”

We stepped out of the house in time to see all seven men: Linc, Dec, Jax, Gumby, Ace, Rex, and Phantom jog into what was left of the front yard.

“Jesus Christ,” Dec mumbled when he drew close.

“What time is it?” Tom asked.

I moved my right arm to look at my watch and had to grind my teeth together from the pain. “Seventeen-oh-five.”

“I told my Rissa I’d be home in time for dinner. You call in our ride or are we walking?”

“Three minutes until evac,” Zane told him.

“What a long goddamn day!” That was understatement. “Good work today, boys! Appreciate you all coming out and working together. When I left instructions for Tex, I knew I’d chosen the right men for the job.”

“You knew,” Zane accused.

“I didn’t know the how or the when but I knew something wasn’t right. I knew they were taking me one way or another. I figured I’d rather get it over with. And now we know who we’re playing with.”

“What now?”

My question was cut off by the sound of rotor blades chopping through the air as the helicopter hovered overhead.

“You got two choices, tandem up with me,” Zane shouted over the noise, “or in the basket!”

“Neither. Do you know who the fuck I am?”

“Yes, sir, I do.” Zane’s lips twitched.

“I’m a goddamn UDT. I may be battered but I’m not broken. There’s no chance in hell, I’m going up in a basket.”

“Hooyah!” Linc, Leo, Zane, and Rocco’s team all belted out.

Jax and I shook our head. “Damn Navy SEALs and Hooyahs.” I laughed.

“You know what we say to you Army grunts, right?” Rocco chuckled good-naturedly. “Follow us, we’ll lead the way,” he finished.

“That’s because we’re smart. We let the frogs draw ’em out and cover your asses.”

“You’re up first, Rocco.” Zane cut off our banter.

Once Rocco was in the helicopter, then the president, I took my first deep breath since the whole ordeal started.

“You’re next, brother. And when we get to Camp David, I wanna look at your arm. You good going up the rope?” Zane asked.

“Do you know who the fuck I am?” I said, using Tom’s words from earlier.

Zane’s face finally relaxed, and he smiled. “Yeah, brother, I know exactly who you are.” His hand landed on my left shoulder and he gave me a bone-jarring pound on the back. “You’re one of the toughest sons of bitches I know.”

I wrapped my left arm around the rope and when my feet were off the ground, I tangled my leg around the line, making a foothold. I glanced around the wooded area with dead bodies scattered about. Tom was right, it looked like a war zone. I thanked my lucky stars we’d made it through another battle, lived another day, and when the time came for the next one—we’d be ready for another fight. It’s what we did. What we lived for.