It was Jake’s turn to make the call.

He clutched the phone tight. He hadn’t spoken to Trent since the team had left for Barcelona, and he wondered if there was any news on his side. Maybe something good, for once.

Alexa was back in front of the computer, doing her best to discover Bekas’s target.

“Trent? It’s Jake,” he said once the line clicked over.

“Jesus Christ. What the hell happened? I’ve got guys in hospital beds in Barcelona, and no one knows what’s going on.”

“What do you mean? Didn’t Randall tell you?” Jake asked.

Alexa swiveled in her chair, looking over at him, concern spreading across her beautiful face. Jake’s chest tightened.

“Randall’s not with you? I thought if you were calling that meant—”

Don’t tell me . . . “Randall and I parted yesterday. He was supposed to go to the embassy and let you all know what was going on.”

Alexa was on her feet, her arms folded over her chest. She’d called London PD and asked them to get a message to MI6. The officer she had spoken to had been skeptical, but she believed they’d do due diligence and follow through. But what if Seth never made it to the British Consulate? Perhaps everyone was still in the dark.

“Well, Randall didn’t make it,” Trent said slowly.

Jake hung his head until it rested against his hand. “Any word from MI6 about their agents in Barcelona?”

“No. MI6 alerted us to the hacking issue, and we’ve identified and shut down the problem within our servers—well, at the NSA, which is all that Anarchy targeted, so it seems. We also know what Alpha and Beta teams could tell us—you were ambushed, everyone split up, and the targets were lost,” Trent answered.

“Well, it looks like Anarchy might be using Randall, Seth, and Xander as hostages.” And he had to think that because the alternative was that they were dead.

Alexa turned her back and crossed the room to stand in front of the window, which offered a view of the city sprawled out below. “We also think we know their end game. Sort of.” Jake’s stomach rolled. “Shit. I just realized that since Randall didn’t make it to you, you never got the message about the drones.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You need to ground all drones. Monitor them at the Sigonella base,” Jake said as fast he could.

“Hang on. What are you saying?” Trent’s voice cut through the phone, the deepness seeming to vibrate against Jake’s ear.

“The drone we used to try and take out Ansari in Libya from Sicily last month was hacked,” Jake said. “And if you had mentioned the drone back in Montana we might be sitting in a Goddamn different situation right now.” His heartbeat quickened as his anger ticked up a notch.

“Wait—you remember the mission?”

Jake should have lead with that. “I remember everything,” he said slowly—almost as if he didn’t believe it.

“That’s great, but . . . well, shit, we don’t know with all certainty the drone was ever hacked. It could have malfunctioned.”

“Trust me, Trent. It was hacked. Anarchy is going to hack it again, and this time it won’t be a trial run.” Jake’s gaze traveled back to Alexa. Her shoulders were hunched, her hand on the window pane.

“So, like I said, you need to get ahold of Sigonella and have them ground all drones. Lock them inside the damn hangars. I don’t know if Anarchy can pull off a hijacking, but let’s not wait and find out.” He heaved out a deep breath. “Oh, and—more bad news—find Frank Warren, the retired General of CENTCOM. Anarchy is coming after him. They’ve already targeted and murdered everyone who was a part of the drone strike that led to the death of Bekas’s family.”

Jake couldn’t believe he was saying this, that this was real and not some elaborate trial run like back in his Quantico days, when the government would throw every terrorist scenario at him, testing him on his ability to assess and handle the situation. He had graduated at the top of his class and even became one of the leading experts at counterterrorism in the U.S. He held seminars now at Quantico. But this . . . it was beyond anything he’d ever imagined, beyond even the farfetched trials at the FBI Academy.

Jake blinked a few times, squeezing his past from his mind.

Trent gasped. “Are you serious?”

Do I sound like I’m kidding? “Yes,” he said through gritted teeth.

Trent took a long-winded breath, which crackled through the phone like feedback from a blender. Jake pulled the phone from his ear for a moment. “We’ll locate Frank, but the drones . . . that might not be so easy.” Trent’s words were followed by a soft hiss.

“Why?” Jake’s brows snapped together.

“Last month, the President finally agreed to order a massive strike against the ISIS compounds in Libya. We’ve been waiting for months to get this approval from the Italians and the President to finally go in and obliterate the ISIS military bases in Northern Libya.”

“Well, post-fucking-pone it!”

“I’ll see what I can do, but I think it’s happening soon. Like, tonight.”

“Do you not hear what I’m saying? This isn’t some fucking coincidence that there is a strike scheduled for tonight!” Jake shouted, not giving a damn if he pissed off his boss. Rank didn’t matter, not with lives on the line. To hell with the aftermath. “If those drones fly, you’re playing right into their hands. They hacked our servers, which means they knew about this attack in Libya. They’re counting on it. For once, we have the intel to stop them. For God’s sake, let’s use it!”

“I’ll need to go to the President on this.”

“Go to the Pope for all I care but call off the strike.”

“Watch it, Jake. We’re friends, but dammit—” Trent stopped himself. “Call me back in an hour. And . . . Jake? Don’t do anything fucking stupid.”

Jake slammed the phone down, anger billowing through him until he felt that he might erupt like one of the volcanoes nearby. Hell, maybe it should blow—and lava could pour right over Bekas and his damn men.

Jake pressed his palms to his temples, trying to lessen the intensity of his anger that flowed through him.

“We might be offering Anarchy a drone on a silver platter, so we need to find out where they’re planning to hit. I hope your guys back in London are handling Parliament.” His hands slipped down to his shoulders where he kneaded them, working at the tension.

He snapped his eyes shut as memories from the last twelve years ripped fresh wounds. So many men had given their lives for their country.

And Jake would be damned to hell if he refused to let anyone else die on his watch.

“You know this Bekas guy,” he said, his eyes still closed. “We know he has been out for revenge all along. Aside from the general, what would he want?” He slowly opened his eyes to find Alexa standing right in front of him.

“Well.” Alexa covered a hand to her mouth as her eyes darted to the ceiling in thought. Her eyes widened a little when her fingers slipped free from her lips. “Within a month after his family died, he began campaigning against the use of drone strikes. He even went to the media. He wanted his story shared. He hoped it would stop the strikes if the public knew more details about the deaths of his wife and children.”

“What happened?”

“The story made the news for maybe a day or two, and then people forgot. I can imagine that he was upset. He wanted an apology, and he wanted the world to know—”

“Which is why he wanted to use me as a delivery boy,” he interrupted, “to send some sort of message over live TV, maybe? He’s most likely making this a suicide mission, too. That, or he has plans to escape to some tropical island and never look back.”

Alexa tapped a short nail against her lip as she focused on Jake. “If he attacks the Palace of Westminster, it’ll be empty. Not easy, either. Security has tightened after previous attempts in the past.”

“If they can pull it off, destroying that iconic building would be symbolic, though,” Jake said.

“Bloody hell. That’s it, isn’t it? He wants everyone to see the consequences of drone strikes. To put the fear of God into people, in the hope that the people will pressure our governments to stop using drones on enemy targets.”

“It’s a bit of an extreme way to get your point across, but we’re still back to the question of where he plans to use the drone.”

Alexa grumbled and grabbed a black hair tie from her wrist. She swept her hair up into a messy bun atop her head. “It has to be the American Embassy in Rome. It’s close, and it would send a message.”

“But we can prevent the loss of life by clearing it out. At this point, we have to assume he knows he probably won’t kill anyone in London. And I’m pretty sure this SOB will want the world to see a loss of life among the chaos.”

“Maybe a place where people feel safe. A target that people wouldn’t expect, which makes it all the more frightening,” she added. “Clubs, malls, markets . . .”

Jake wished he could forget all over again the drastic increase in terrorist attacks in the last several years. If the public knew how many had been stopped—all those that didn’t make the news—people would be scared to do almost anything at all.

“It doesn’t need to be a soft target since they’ll have a damn drone. But it has to be close because Bekas must know he won’t be able to override the drone for very long. The military will attempt to take down the drone’s satellite or the drone itself . . .”

“So where?”

His gaze trailed from her hand, which was slightly trembling as it pressed to her core.

“The drone strikes in Libya are tonight,” he said, reaching for her wrist to check the time on her watch, “which means we have about ten hours to figure it out.”

* * *

Darkness had fallen over the city and never before had Jake been so worried about the setting of the sun.

He had touched base with Trent a couple of times, but the President had yet to lift his order for the strike that was supposed to start within one hour. There was a team back in the States debating possible outcomes and risks. They didn’t want to lose their chance to hit ISIS, but they didn’t want to be responsible for any loss of life at the hands of @Anarchy. Of course, no one truly believed it was possible to hijack the MQ-9 Reaper.

As for General Frank Warren, he’d been vacationing since his retirement, bouncing all over the globe. To Jake, this presented the possibility that the general was already dead.

“Reza and his men had to get to Sicily in the same way we did—by plane. And they couldn’t exactly board a commercial airline with hostages.” Alexa was sitting behind the desk, staring at her computer screen. “I’m going to check air traffic controls and see what private jets traveled last night and this morning.”

“Okay. Good.” He tapped her shoulder as he stepped back from her chair.

There was a knock on the door, and Alexa lifted her fingers from the keyboard. “Is it Ben?” she whispered, raising a brow and twisting to face the door.

“It should be.” Jake grabbed his sidearm from the desk and removed the safety. He held the weapon down at his side as he approached the door. Once he checked the peephole, a grin spread across his face. “It’s him.”

When Jake opened the door, Ben was just as he remembered: tall, well-built, with dark hair and green eyes. He was also sporting a thick, black beard that Jake hadn’t seen on his friend since Iraq. He immediately pulled Ben in for a quick, one-armed hug. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Glad to see you alive and with all of your faculties in order.”

Jake stepped back to allow him entrance and then locked the door with the sliding chain. “Ben Logan, this is Alexa Ryan.”

Ben dropped his black duffel bag at his feet and crossed the room to where Alexa was standing. “Good to meet you, ma’am.”

Alexa smiled. A real smile, Jake thought.

“Ma’am?” She glanced at Jake for a moment as her lips curved deeper. “Not another guy who calls me ma’am.” She shook Ben’s hand.

“Oh? Not a fan?” Ben laughed.

“Makes me feel like an old maid.” She retracted her arm, letting it fall heavy at her side.

Jake folded his arms over his chest, eyeing the way Ben took note of Alexa. His gaze traveled from her eyes and down so fast that it was almost unnoticeable. But Jake noticed. “You’re far from that,” Ben said with a quick wink. “So.” He faced Jake and rubbed his palms together. “Who do I get to kill?”

“No one yet.” Alexa scowled. “We’re working on it, though.” She sat back behind her computer. “And even if we do find these bastards in time, don’t go thinking you’re going in like two cowboys in a Western.” She peered at them over her shoulder. “You realize those are only action flicks, right?”

“Oh, man.” Ben pressed a hand to his chest and arched his shoulders back. “I’m offended. Jake and I, we’re much more dangerous than a bunch of cowboys,” he said in a low, smooth voice.

“Oh yeah?” She perked a brow and looked away from them.

“Trust me, sweetheart, these pricks don’t want to mess with us.”

“Damn man,” Jake said while resting a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “It’s really good to have you here.” He realized he’d made the right decision bringing Ben in.

“It beats being a bodyguard to some rich prick.” He laughed a little and walked back over to the duffel bag and squatted down. “I got almost everything Alexa needed, plus a few things you might be interested in.” He unzipped the bag and reached for a Glock.

“Where’d you get the artillery?” Jake asked, eying the contents of the bag.

“That officer friend of mine at the base hooked me up. This isn’t all, though—we thought it’d be a little suspicious if I brought all the rifles up to the room.”

Jake glowered. “We?”

With a mischievous grin, Ben said, “Well, I asked a few private security guys I know in Naples to come help. They have a van parked outside. So, this is just a little sample of what we have to blow these motherf—” he stopped himself, glancing over his shoulder at Alexa, “—these guys out of the water.”

“You brought more men?” Alexa pushed back in the chair and faced them again, concern pulling at her face. “We didn’t discuss that. And they’re civilians?” She stood and approached the bag and kneeled down to study what Ben brought.

“Listen.” Ben stood erect, his eyes catching Alexa’s for a brief moment on his way up. He braced his hips with his palms. He didn’t have to be in uniform to look like a Marine. His confidence and posture, and the glint of darkness behind his eyes said it all. Seeing Ben standing there like that was a harsh reminder of what they had gone through in the Middle East together, and the lives they lost. Jake’s pulse quickened at the thought, and he wet his lips, turning away for a moment, trying to slow his heart.

“We need a little back-up, don’t you think?” Ben finished.

“Oh, so you really aren’t as bad as you said, yeah?” Alexa half-joked.

Jake faced the two and noticed the smirk on her face as she held what looked like a frequency jammer in her hand—a compact black box with eight six-inch antennas attached.

God, she was stunning. Smart, independent, caring, gorgeous, humorous—his perfect woman. Only, could he truly handle a woman who was always putting herself in danger? Then again, look at what he did. Why should he set a different standard of behavior for her?

“Jake?” Ben was snapping his fingers in his face. “Do we have a game plan, yet?”

“We’re working on it,” he answered.

“Let me go back to the van and update the guys then.”

“How many men do we have?” Jake asked.

“Four more plus us,” he answered as Alexa turned back to the computer.

“Six should be more than enough,” Jake answered. Even if they were five to one—they would be facing about the same odds as they had in the Marines. Sometimes it was ten on one. Sure, they could do this.

Jake patted Ben on the back and nodded at him. “Thanks again for coming,” he said as Ben started for the door.

“Oh, and I had to go through Michael to get those NSA and FBI files. I know you wanted him left out of this, but he’s our best resource for that shit.”

Damn. “What’d he say?”

Ben smirked. “He said to tell you, ‘Welcome back.’”

I am back, aren’t I? His mind had taken some crazy vacation—a road trip to Hell—but he was back, right?

“I’ll be up in a few,” Ben said.

After he left, there was just the sound of Alexa’s fingertips clacking against the keyboard.

“There were three private jets that match our flight pattern, and one of them was ours,” Alexa said a few moments later after Jake had once again secured the lock at the door.

“And the other two?” He came up behind her.

“Working on it.”

“Okay, good. We have to assume they managed to bypass customs, which means they might have someone on the inside, as well.” Just then, the hotel phone began to ring. “Should be Trent. Let’s hope the President called off the strike.”

Jake clutched the phone, released a deep breath, and raised it to his ear. “What’s the news?”

“Good and bad. First, the good news is that General Frank Warren is alive. He’s on a cruise right now. We’re trying to get a message to his ship.”

A cruise? Maybe the guy would be safe while at sea. “And the bad news?”

“The options have been weighed, and it’s been decided to go ahead with the strike. They’re moving the timetable in hopes of throwing off Anarchy’s plans.”

Trent’s words hit him like a hard blow. Jake felt like he was losing his mind all over again.

“Don’t say anything, Jake. I fought for you.”

“Not hard enough for the people who might die!” Jake balled his free hand at his side, feeling his fingertips pressing hard against his palm as he tried to bite back the hot flash of anger inside him. “When do the drones fly out?” he asked in a low voice.

“Now,” Trent said after a pause.

“Jesus.”

“I’m sorry, Jake. Get to Sigonella and out of harm’s way. Okay? They’re expecting you. We have people on standby to try and stop the hijacking if it comes to it. And I’ve talked to MI6—they’re tracking a good lead over there.”

“Well, we’re staying put.” Jake shook his head and his eyes met with Alexa’s as he slammed the phone down. He rubbed his palms down his face, releasing a breath. “The strike is on. Frank Warren is alive and safe.”

“Where is he?”

“On a cruise.” He approached her, his jaw clenched.

She angled her head, her eyes becoming thin slits. “What cruise? Where?”

“I don’t know.”

She immediately turned back to the computer.

“What is it?” he asked as her fingers moved with deftness over the keys.

“I want to know what cruise he’s on.”

“That’s the least of our problems right now. We’ve got a drone hijacking to stop.” Jake crossed his arms and looked over her shoulder as she worked, hacking into God knew what.

“I have a feeling this is important. It might take some time, though.”

“Time is something you know we don’t have.” He followed his words with an exaggerated sigh.

“I know,” she answered, but didn’t pause.

She had worked for a good ten minutes before she stopped. Her shoulders sagged, and she seemed to wilt in front of him. “He’s on a cruise in the Mediterranean, Jake.” The screen cast a brilliant blue glow over her features. “It was a last-minute booking three weeks ago, and he boarded two nights ago with his wife, daughter, and two grandkids.”

Jake shifted back in his stance, his body becoming stiff. “You’re telling me the man who made the final call that killed Bekas’s wife and twins is just a few hundred miles away from here—and with his family, no less?”

“That’s got to be it, Jake. It fits. It’s completely insane, but Bekas has killed everyone else over the years, and he’s been waiting for the perfect moment to strike General Warren. He was patient. And he couldn’t have planned it better with the strike in Libya tonight. Hell, he may have even orchestrated getting General Warren and his family on that cruise liner.”

“Christ.” Jake started back for the phone. “Can you pinpoint where the ship is right now?”

“Hang on.”

Jake was amazed at her skill and speed, still stunned at her genius.

“It’s one of those out-to-sea nights. I’d estimate it’s about three hours from the nearest port off the coast of Italy.”

“If I can get ahold of Trent in time, maybe he can get the drones called back to Sigonella. And bring that cruise back to port.” He grabbed the phone and dialed Trent. “In the meantime, try to find out who flew Reza’s plane.”

“What about the drone?”

“There’s nothing you can do until it’s been jacked, right?” He held the phone tight, his fingers hovering over the buttons.

“Right . . .”

“Let’s get the bastards before that becomes an issue, okay?”

“You think we can?” she asked as he dialed.

“You heard Ben, right? Well, now we have you—so, yeah. You’d better believe we can do it.”