The screen of my duty phone flashed white in the pre-dawn silence of my cabin, displaying an urgent encrypted notification from NCIS that instantly turned my blood to ice water. My name is Commander Helena Bryce of the United States Coast Guard, and after six brutal months commanding a medium endurance cutter through punishing fifty-foot swells off the Carolina...
My name is Hannah Cole. Four years ago, I traded a federal badge, a pile of classified case files, and a life built on hunting violent fugitives across state lines for a pair of faded scrubs and a quiet, dead-end nursing job in Miller’s Creek, a speck of a town buried deep in rural America where the nearest hospital...
Part 2
Special Agent Lena Ortiz entered first.
She had worked under me twenty years earlier and now led the bureau’s elder-financial-exploitation unit. She placed three warrants on the booking desk.
“One covers the Mercer residence,” she said. “One covers Nathan and Valerie’s home. The third freezes every account connected to the forged power of attorney.”
Sergeant Danner removed the remaining cuff.
“Director Mercer,...
"That’s a nice bra, sweetheart. What is that, Victoria’s Secret Tactical Edition?" The words sliced through the gear hanger like a rusty blade, instantly freezing my hands mid-fold on the heavy parachute silk. Every operator in the building snapped their heads around. Gunnery Sergeant Vandenberg stood right behind me, flanked by six arrogant Army Rangers, all of them wearing...
My name is Valerie Vance, call sign "Ghost," though the arrogant boys in my new SEAL team unit liked to sneer "Razor-Falcon" whenever they thought I couldn't hear them. Right now, childish nicknames were the absolute last thing keeping me breathing. The heavy steel buttplate of my CheyTac M200 Intervention dug viciously into my bruised right shoulder as a...
"Get her out of this room immediately!" Admiral Jack Thompson's commanding voice boomed across the Pentagon Ring E conference room, his steel-gray eyes locked onto me as I stood quietly by the mahogany table with my silver tea service. The twelve highest-ranking military officers in America were currently deep in a classified alpha-level intelligence briefing about Operation Desert Shield...
Part 2
The ride to the station was suffocatingly quiet, save for the crackle of the police radio. My wrists throbbed where the steel cuffs dug into my skin, and the scent of stale coffee and sweat in the back of the cruiser was overpowering. Behind us, the headlights of Derek's SUV trailed closely. Chloe wanted to make sure I...
The copper bell above Murphy’s bar entrance chimed at exactly 8:47 p.m., but I didn’t pause because of the sound. I froze because of the voice that followed—a laugh so full of self-importance it made the heavy North Carolina air feel suffocating. General Bradley Morrison pushed through the doorway, his four stars catching the amber light, flanked by five...
The crystal punch bowl shattered against the marble floor with a violent crack that instantly sliced through the deafening Christmas Eve chatter of forty officers in dress blues. "Pick it up, custodian," General Sterling’s voice cut like a rusted razor blade through the ballroom. On my knees, my bad knee ground audibly against the cold stone, and my arthritic...
Part 2
The entire ballroom froze. The guards gripping my shoulders hesitated, immediately turning toward the entrance.
Standing in the doorway was General Arthur Hayes, a four-star commander of the Joint Special Operations Command. Flanking him were six federal agents wearing tactical windbreakers with "DCIS" emblazoned across the back in bold yellow letters. The Defense Criminal Investigative Service.
Marcus immediately smoothed his...
