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  The locker room was quiet, as most of the agents were still on their missions around the rest of the world. Mack had sent her to New York because she was the best, but this time she hadn’t been able to get it done. She stayed there for a moment, letting herself enjoy the silence and calm around her. Once she left the locker room and stepped back out onto the floor, she would reenter chaos and noise. It wasn’t something that bothered her—in fact, the chaos was something she thrived on—but for now, the silence was what she needed.

  After a few minutes, she stood up from the bench, closed her locker, and headed out onto the floor. She found Bryce surrounded by the other support agents and elbowed her way to the front. “You guys know you’re not supposed to watch porn at work, right?” The joke didn’t even crack a smile, but when she saw the footage of what they were watching, she knew why.

  “Video feed from Moscow,” Bryce said absentmindedly.

  If Sarah had thought New York was bad, then Moscow was hell on earth. Massive fires consumed downtown St. Petersburg, and whatever wasn’t already burned or burning was smashed by the riots in the streets.

  “Vince sent this an hour ago on his recon to pull our assets in the area,” Johnny said. “He barely made it out alive.”

  The tone was one of defeat, and Sarah could feel it tearing through the group. “Hey,” she said, pulling their attention away from the screen. “Then let’s find the bastards who caused this.” The agents looked around at one another and rushed back to their stations.

  “I’ve been keeping a trace on the Global Power program since New York,” Bryce said, changing the video on his screen from the riots to the GPS map. “I lost it once it left the eastern seaboard. It was moving too fast for the tracker to update in real time, but it landed here.”

  “Spain?”

  “Yeah, and get this.” Bryce pulled up another screen riddled with information with the words “Tuck Investments” at the top. “I did a cross-reference for any shares of companies Tuck Investments had its fingers in against any possible weaponized materials, which lead me to Precious Mining Inc. Tuck owns forty percent of that company, which is based out of Canada.”

  “What do they mine?”

  “They’re the largest producer of uranium in the world.”

  “Christ.”

  “Yeah. So then I tried finding any pieces of property where they could store uranium off the books, and I found three possible sites: one in Canada, another in Russia, and the third off the southern coast of Spain.”

  Sarah squeezed Bryce’s shoulders hard, causing him to wince in pain. “Atta boy! Get me a weapons package ready. I’ve got a flight to catch.”

  Rust and peeling paint covered the outside of the factory. It was an eyesore stuck in the middle of the marina off the Mediterranean coast, contrasting against the light- and dark-blue waves rolling in the sea. The windows of the factory were high, almost to the ceiling, concealing the true nature of the factory from any prying eyes.

  Conveyer belts, forklifts, and workers dressed in hazmat suits pored over the materials coming down their lines with the same mechanical effort as the machines around them, performing the same repetitive motions over and over until their minds were numb and their backs sore from standing in the same position for hours.

  High above the factory floor, concealed and protected behind thick sheets of steel, concrete, and glass, were Rick Demps and the rest of the board for Tuck Investments. Rick stood at the window, watching the assembly take place, watching the future of his company grow—along with its stock, which would make him the wealthiest man in the world. He smiled, swirled the glass of brandy in his hand, and turned back to his constituents, all of whom had the same wicked smile on their faces.

  “Gentlemen,” Rick said, raising his glass to the room, “In less than eight hours, our shipments will be delivered in the cities around the world. When that happens, world leaders will be clamoring for us to save them with Global Power. Our stock price will go through the roof. We will be the saviors of the world.”

  The men all raised their glasses in kind, the same greedy, contemptuous smiles leering back at him. Rick turned back around to the factory, sipping his drink, admiring the taste of his success and of all that would come to fruition. He looked at his watch then turned around to the rest of the board. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.” The assembled directors chuckled to themselves as the whiskey and other spirits warmed their bloated bodies.

  Rick closed the door behind him, and his head of security detail, Heath, stepped in stride with him to the office from which he’d make the conference call. “Where are we at with the incident in New York?”

  “All of them were dead, sir, and we couldn’t get any good pictures off the security feed. All we know right now is that it was a woman,” Heath answered.

  “Ridiculous.” Rick’s voice came out in a violent, breathy whisper. The events in New York had triggered an annoying series of events. With the city still in chaos, he had to arrange for all the repairs to be flown in. The only positive that came out of it was the fact that he didn’t have to stay cooped up in that office any longer. “I want to find out who she is, where she is, and what we need to do to make sure she doesn’t bother us again.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Rick closed the door to the office and left the details to Heath. There couldn’t be any slip-ups now, not when he was so close. The projector inside his office lowered, and he was soon greeted by the blurred face of the only member of his board that had not chosen to attend today’s meeting in person. “We have a problem.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet, Demps?” The voice was still distorted, but even through the manipulation, Rick could sense the mockery.

  “I understand you have access to certain pieces of information,” Rick said. “Well, I have a thorn in my side that’s causing us problems.”

  “The girl.”

  “I need her gone.”

  “That’s something I won’t associate myself with, but I will send you what information I have. Just make sure once the stock sales rise, I get my share of the profits.”

  “Always a pleasure doing business with you.” The screen went blank, and another incoming call came through, where he was greeted by the leaders of the United States, Russia, France, Italy, India, England, and China.

  “Presidents, prime ministers, it’s an honor to have the opportunity to speak with you all at once,” Rick said.

  “We need to know the status of Global Power, Mr. Demps,” the American president said. “We’ve already debriefed Russia, India, and China about the matter. We just need to know when it can go live and restore order.”

  “I just came from a meeting with my engineers, and they say that they’ve almost fixed the damage to the program caused by the theft,” Rick answered. “Have we made any headway into how this breach in security happened?”

  “No,” the American president answered, “but our collective intelligence agencies are working in cooperation to find out who was behind the attack.”

  Rick leaned forward, pausing a moment before he spoke, running through all the different scenarios and outcomes that could happen based off how he chose to word it. The crew in New York would still be working on the building, but that wouldn’t matter. The fact that he had his own security detail there during such a dangerous time would be completely acceptable. If his friend didn’t come through, then this could be the only way to pull the weed that plagued his luscious garden. “Mr. President, you should know that during the blackout in New York, I was attacked in my own office.”

  “Do you think it’s related to what happened in Germany?” the Italian president asked.

  “A lot of my men were killed during the assault. It was definitely performed by a professional. I think they were trying to use me as a means to take control of Global Power,” Rick answered.

  “Mr. Demps, anything you have, we’re going to need. It could help turn the tide in finding out whoever
was behind this,” said the American president.

  “Of course, Mr. President. I’ll have the head of my security detail send you everything we have immediately. The moment I hear from our engineers, I’ll be sure to contact all of you.”

  The call ended, and the screen went blank. Rick leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the desk. Sharing intelligence. He was sure the only things any of them were sharing were lies and ways to get the upper hand on one another farther down the road. But for now, they all had a common enemy, and Rick didn’t mind leaning on the people he was manipulating to help him find the rat sneaking around his own operation. Whoever or whatever this thorn in his side was wouldn’t be around for much longer.

  The fact that HQ was already spread thin with almost every single person out on assignment didn’t make things easier for Sarah and Bryce when they were gearing up for the mission. Bryce kept a close eye on the signal to make sure it stayed in its location and sent her live updates with regard to any other information he was able to gather on Rick Demps, as well as the factory they were located in.

  Equipment and personnel for the factory had been purchased by hundreds of different shell companies and dummy organizations in the effort to conceal what they were trying to build: bombs. Tuck Investments had gone to great lengths to keep all of it hidden, and the amount of money it paid the workers at the site was enough to keep anyone quiet.

  The cargo plane Bryce had managed to secure her a ride on jolted from some turbulence, and Sarah’s whole seat jerked, almost knocking her out of the straps keeping her in place. The bump had caused her phone to fall out of her pocket and onto the floor. She picked it up and stared at it for a moment before opening it. Her brother’s voicemail was still saved in her messages, but she’d yet to call him back. Sarah hit his name in her contacts, and the phone rang. She knew she shouldn’t use the HQ satellite for a call like this, especially in the current climate, but she had to talk to her brother. She couldn’t let the two of them drift apart again like they had.

  “Sarah? Are you all right?” Ben asked.

  “Hey, Ben, yes, I’m fine.”

  The drum of the plane’s engines caused the cabin to stay noisy, making it difficult to hear, but she was almost positive there was a sigh of relief that came through. “How are the kids holding up?”

  “They’re fine,” Ben answered. “They’re actually having a blast. The living room has turned into a giant fort, and they managed to convince me that they had to eat all the ice cream in the freezer before it went bad. It’s like watching midget homeless people on crack run through my own house.”

  “You know ice cream is the gateway drug, so make sure you keep an eye on them. Middle school is just around the corner, and you don’t want to have the ‘rebel’ kids.”

  Ben laughed, and she smiled. The plane jolted again from some turbulence, and the crates around her clanked into each other.

  “Where are you right now?” Ben asked. “It sounds like you’re in a wind tunnel.”

  “I’m over by the marina. Had to get out of the house, walk around a bit.”

  “You shouldn’t be out right now, Sarah. I’ve been checking the news on the radio. People are starting to lose it out there.”

  “Oh, trust me, I know.”

  A silence fell between them, and Sarah could hear the faint giggles of Ella and Matt echoing from somewhere in the house. The silence was uncomfortable, both parties unsure of what to say next and how the other would react.

  “I know I haven’t been the friendliest guy lately,” Ben said. “When mom and dad—” Ben’s voice caught, and Sarah could feel the pain through the phone.

  “I’m sorry, Ben. I’m sorry about how everything went down. I didn’t want any of it to happen.”

  “Me either.”

  Updates flashed on her computer, as the plane was only ten minutes away from the drop zone. Sarah wiped her eyes and positioned the phone away from her mouth as she gently cleared her throat. “Listen, I won’t be able to make it to dinner tonight. Something came up, but I’m still definitely coming to Ella’s play on Saturday.”

  “Pending the power comes back on by then,” Ben said.

  “I have a good feeling it will. I’ll talk to you later. Bye, butt munch.”

  “Bye, turd-face.”

  The call ended, and the tears under her eyes reached the tipping point, cascading down her face. I love you. She hadn’t said it. She hadn’t said those words in a very long time. Not to her brother. Not to her niece and nephew. Not to anyone. Those words seemed to be a foreign language to her, one her tongue couldn’t grasp in enunciation.

  And it was still too soon. She wasn’t ready to say it, and her brother wasn’t ready to hear it. As nice as it was to hear from him, to know he was still worried about her, there was still the slightest hint of anger in him, and in herself as well.

  Sarah had missed birthdays, holidays, family events, and too many dinners to remember because of her job. It was part of the life, one she had accepted long ago. She loved her parents and her brother, but the truth was it scared her that she might love her job even more.

  9

  The parachute collapsed behind Sarah as her boots hit the grass of a field just west of the factory. The drop location was only a few miles from the target, giving her enough space to make sure she could get a good look at the perimeter before she made any moves. She dropped the parachute straps to the ground and started the jog to the factory.

  Sarah made sure to take a good look around before encroaching on the property. If Rick Demps had wanted to portray the factory as a dilapidated piece of shit, he succeeded. There wasn’t a piece of equipment in the entire yard that didn’t look broken down or one step up from never moving again.

  Security personnel were scarce, but when Sarah asked for a scan of the building, Bryce found more than sixty sensors stationed from her position to the factory’s entrance. Anywhere she moved on that property, she’d trigger an alarm that would give away her position and blow any chance of retrieving the software and stopping the bombs. She needed a way in, but unless she could get another air drop in her location, which Bryce informed her she could not, she was on her own.

  “Send down a scramble,” she told Bryce.

  “What? Sarah, that’ll fry your communications.”

  “But it’ll also destroy the sensors in the field.”

  “You’ll be dark, alone.”

  “And I’ll be able to get inside the factory.”

  “It’s too risky.”

  “Bryce.”

  “Fine.”

  “If you don’t hear from me within forty-eight hours—”

  “I’ll talk to them personally,” Bryce answered.

  There was a hardness in his voice whenever he said something that was a promise. He never had to say the words, but she knew he would get it done. “Thanks. Give me a sixty-second countdown and then let ’er rip.” She started to take the earpiece out then quickly put it back in. “Oh! And if something does happen to me, tell Mack I’m sorry I ate his sandwich out of the fridge last week.”

  “That was you? But he suspended Charlie for three days.”

  “Tell Charlie I’m sorry, too.” Besides the Kevlar, the only other tools she had with her were her the two 1911 pistols, six spare magazines, three C-4 clips, and two gas grenades. She set the timer on her watch and let the countdown begin. It ticked away, and when it hit zero, she gave it a couple more minutes before she took a step forward onto the property.

  Either the scramble had worked or the response time from the sensors was very, very bad. Toward the back of the factory, she could see three semi trucks being loaded up with large crates. Up at the front, similar crates were being put onto ships stretched out onto the dock. That’s how Rick was getting the bombs out: land and sea.

  The factory had a total of six entrances: one in the south, two in the west, two in the east, and one in the north. Once she made it to the door, she placed one hand on
the handle and the other on the grip of her pistol. She twisted the handle, closed her eyes, and listened.

  The distinct click of a few magazines echoed into her ear, and she let go of the door handle. The failing sensors must have alerted them that something was off. She looked back out into the shambled yard of machinery and junk, and her eyes came across one very large bulldozer, the only piece of equipment that still had all four tires. She headed for it.

  Sarah pulled the wiring out of the dash and sparked the ignition, and the bulldozer cranked to life. She’d only driven one of these once previously and had ended up crashing into a bank, which Mack wasn’t very happy about despite the fact that the gang she had been chasing happened to be in said bank.

  The dozer jolted forward, crushing a few bottles and cans that littered the sandy, dusty ground. She pulled the lever that lifted the massive metal plate off the ground and aimed it right at the side of the building. Sarah shifted gears, the bulldozer jolting again as it picked up speed. I do love to make an entrance.

  The moment the bulldozer’s blade connected with the side of the building, both the machine and the building buckled a bit as the two forces collided. Sarah willed the dozer inside, and it wasn’t long before bullets started ricocheting off the dozer’s metal plate.

  “Lucy! I’m home!”

  Sarah unholstered both pistols and slid down the side of the dozer, using the thick metal plating as cover. The wall behind her was completely destroyed, leaving a gaping hole that flooded the factory floor with sunlight, affecting the aim of the guards inside. She counted twelve of them, and her eyes immediately went to the large window high above the factory floor through which a group of men in suits gawped at the scene in front of them. But it didn’t take long for the suits to scatter once Sarah fired a few shots in their direction. She knew that’s where she’d find Rick Demps, and she knew that’s where he’d have whatever computer was running Global Power.