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into the picture from his own staff. Any thoughts on who that could have been? His head of security, maybe—the guy in the hospital?”

Cal’s face grew even more grave. “In the morgue. He died yesterday.”

“What? I thought his condition had improved.”

“That lady Carter and her lapdog were at the hospital when I dropped by to check on Reggie. Nurse said it was probably an aneurysm related to his skull fracture, but here’s the kicker—the Feds said that someone paid Reggie a visit and left in a hurry shortly before he flatlined.”

Cal rubbed his chin. “Thing is, the suspect exited the rear of the hospital in a hurry…on a motorcycle. He had it all planned out down to a staged exfil route and knowledge of the camera locations. And Carter indicated Reggie had received a ten-grand payment into his bank account last week from an offshore account. Must have been paid off to disable the security cameras at Burke’s and look the other way when the mercs from that catering van arrived.”

Patterson pursed his lips. “The caterers…you sure it was them? There were some senior staff of Burke’s who didn’t make it to the party.”

Cal shook his head. “There was something about those guys—the driver in particular—that just seemed out of place. Maybe, if I hadn’t been so preoccupied that afternoon I would have…”

“This was an orchestrated hit pulled off by professionals, Cal. The only question now is what are they planning next?”

Cal couldn’t answer that, but he did know that his own manhunt for the suspects was just beginning, and he knew the caterers were his only lead for now.

Before departing the building, he took the elevator down to the third sub-level, passing through two security checkpoints then entering the tac-ops center run by Lynn Vogel. This was the heart of operations and intelligence for Foley’s two SD units. What occurred on this end ensured that Cal and his team had made it back home safely from countless harrowing missions abroad.

He walked past the double doors leading into the large operations room on the left and knocked on Vogel’s door ahead.

“Come in,” she said in the familiar voice he had heard a thousand times in his ear-mic.

Peering into the room, he saw Vogel immediately hop out of her chair and walk around her desk. “Cal, this is quite a surprise. I didn’t know you were coming down here.”

She leaned in, giving him a hug. He felt like his boots were bolted to the floor, and he robotically returned the sentiment.

“Thanks for coming to the service. It meant a lot to me.”

She nodded. “Sorry I had to leave without saying anything. I got called back here—what a surprise.”

“No worries.” He thrust his chin at the large window that overlooked the tac-ops center from her office then over towards a compressed sleeping bag in the corner beside a couch. “The lights in this place must never go off.”

“Not if I can help it. Would you care to sit down for a while?”

“Thanks, but I can’t stay.”

She took a step back, leaning against the edge of her desk. “Hatchet, Waxer and the rest of your old team have been asking how you’re holding up.”

“Yeah, I got texts from most of them, but thanks for letting me know.”

“Heard from Viper lately? I was told she’s itching to rejoin the team and just passed her medical screening.”

“She left a voicemail a few days ago. It was good to hear her voice. Surprised she’s been able to sit still this long.”

“How did your meeting with Patterson go? I assume that’s who you were here to see. He said you were due in sometime today.”

“Not much to report. He’s got as many questions as I do about what happened, but he also has to answer for a multi-million-dollar contract that the agency had with Burke, so he’s under a different sort of pressure to sort this out—and fast.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t a billion dollars, right?” She tried to make an awkward joke, and he realized it was the first time he’d ever heard her depart from the usual monotone analyst speak that he was so accustomed to hearing over his ear-mic in the field.

He gave a faint smile, looking around her neatly arranged office, marveling at the precisely arranged photos and books on her desk, as if she had each of their places outlined in pencil.

Shepard moved to a small table near the wall, picking up some of the new tech toys that her team was always working with to experiment with innovative methods of surveillance. His eyes settled on a palm-sized disk that resembled a small Frisbee but was a hybrid of aluminum alloy and some kind of composite plastic, with three arms that hinged out. In the center was a sleek rotor system.

“Our latest stealth drone for short-distance monitoring. It can be auto-programmed then sent on its way and can scramble security cameras with the embedded infra-red beams.”

He flipped it over, admiring the streamlined aerodynamics. “These things just keep getting smaller. Pretty soon they’ll be the size of a coin.”

“Take one and play with it for a while. I was going to send a package to the SD units in the field to see how they hold up.”

He nodded, placing it in the pocket of his leather jacket. “Thanks.” Shepard glanced around the rest of her immaculate room then over to her. “Actually, this is more than a social visit, Lynn. I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor?”

She pulled her shoulders back. “Of course. Anything.”

“The day of the…the attack at Burke’s…there was a catering crew who drove off just before the explosion. One of the guys had a prosthetic left leg—the older kind that resembled flesh-colored plastic. He also had a tattoo on his forearm of what looked like a large black ant in a red circle. I called the catering company, but their phone line is inactive, and when I drove by the building, it was vacant—like

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