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Ten of them, but still, he had to try something. They didn’t look like allies.

“No.”

A hand clamped down tightly on his wrist as he went for the gun.

“They’re friends.”

“What the hell?” Jack demanded when he realized it was Troy, back from his recon. “What’s going on?”

Troy patted Jack on the shoulder, then moved to where the young woman stood. “Hello, Commander. It’s good to see you.”

She nodded as they shook hands. “You, too.”

“Meet Commander McCoy,” Troy said, as he moved back to where Jack was standing. “She’s with us.”

“You know her?”

“I know of her, Jack. Commander McCoy is one of the most skilled and trusted assassins in the entire United States military.” Troy turned toward Jack so the men standing behind Skylar couldn’t hear him. “Red Cell Seven has been considering making her the first woman ever initiated into it,” he explained. “Dad had mentioned her name to me before. She’s very highly regarded all the way up the chain of command.”

“What’s she doing here?”

“I heard from Dad last night. It was right after I got that ‘dive deep’ message. Before we started out for New Jersey from Brooklyn, I spoke to him while you waited in the truck. I told you I needed to take a—”

“And you didn’t bother telling me he was alive?” Jack asked incredulously.

“I’m telling you now.”

“Oh, well, thanks for that,” he said sarcastically. “Glad you finally got around to it.”

“Focus on the task at hand, brother.”

Jack winced. He still hated being schooled by his kid brother. “What’s she doing here?”

“I’ll spare the details for later when we’re one-on-one, but Commander McCoy and Dad met last night. Apparently, President Dorn was going on offense. He was trying to destroy Red Cell Seven by waging civil war on us, by murdering us.” Troy nodded back at Skylar. “Commander McCoy was leading the attack.”

“Jesus,” Jack whispered.

“Fortunately, Dad was able to convince her of what the real story was. That she was on the wrong team if she was fighting for President Dorn. Even more important,” Troy continued, “Dad discovered what was going on here in Harpers Ferry.” He gestured upriver toward the town. “Daniel Gadanz is planning another major terrorist attack.”

“What kind of attack?”

“He’s planning to assassinate multiple federal officials starting sometime in the next day or two. The target list starts with the president and goes down through the Cabinet to Congress all the way to the intel and law enforcement agencies. And with the kind of money Gadanz has, the threat must be taken very seriously.”

For a few moments, Karen’s fate slipped from Jack’s mind as the enormity of what Troy had just described hit him full force. “How did Dad find out?”

“He’s been with Shane Maddux since he disappeared,” Troy answered. “They were both laying low in a cabin in the woods of western New York. They were worried Dorn was coming after them, and they were right. But I guess Maddux wasn’t just laying low. Like Dorn, he went on offense.” Troy shook his head in disbelief. “Shane was working with Gadanz on this plot, which they called Operation Anarchy. Maddux was feeding Gadanz highly classified information, along with details on how to execute Operation Anarchy so they could kill as many of the targets as possible.”

“So Maddux is trying to wipe out opposition from the left wing to cells like the one we’re familiar with.”

“That’s exactly right,” Troy said. “Anyway, Dad sent Commander McCoy down here to help us. I’m not sure how much he told her about us, but I’m going to assume, at least for now, it wasn’t much.”

“My God.” Jack spoke up loudly as the realization suddenly struck him. “Is it possible Maddux was in on having Little Jack and Karen kidnapped?”

“It’s not just possible,” Skylar said as she reached into her jacket pocket and produced the small notebook Bill had found in Maddux’s bedroom closet at the cabin. “There’s no doubt about it. He was definitely in on it.” She handed it to Troy. “It’s all in there.” She pointed at the notebook.

“Why?” Jack asked. “What could possibly be Maddux’s motive for having my wife kidnapped?”

“I don’t know,” Troy said. “I agree, it doesn’t make much sense.”

“Well, you were right about it being an inside job,” Jack muttered. “That’s how Jennie knew you were in Spain six weeks ago. Maddux could have known and could have told her. He could have gotten those pictures of you and then handed them off. And it’s why Jennie thought…” His voice trailed off.

He’d been about to say it was why Jennie had accused Troy of killing Lisa Martinez. Maddux was one of the few people who knew the young woman had been murdered and would have pinned blame for her death on Troy to manipulate Jennie — which, apparently, had worked.

Troy glanced over at Skylar. “How did my father convince you that Dorn was wrong? How did he convince you not to kill—” He interrupted himself as he pointed down the slope at the road. “Here we go, people. There’s a truck.”

* * *

At the bottom of the hill from The Fisherman’s Inn, Sterling turned the bus left onto Route 340 and headed east for Washington, DC. He’d waited until the coast was completely clear both ways — which hadn’t taken long, as there was very little traffic this far out in the country even at noon. He wasn’t accustomed to driving such a large vehicle, and the roads were slick from the light rain that had been falling for several hours, so he was being extremely careful. He could have no incidents of any kind during this trip.

As he guided the bus over the bridge across the Shenandoah, he glanced left, downriver toward the confluence with the Potomac. For a moment something seemed strange, and he couldn’t place it. Then he realized what it was. No cars had been coming the other way for some time. And then, as he peered ahead through the mist, he saw flashing lights and too many police cars for a simple traffic stop.

As he brought the bus to a sharp stop behind an old pickup truck, his breathing went short, and a violent panic wave surged through his chest. He’d known better, but he’d let his ego get squarely in the way of his common sense. Guiding principles were never to be violated, yet he had.

“Oh my God,” he whispered as everything became clear.

He slammed open the bus door, rose up from the driver’s seat, turned around, and gazed back at the twenty-four expectant faces, his heart pounding crazily. “I regret to inform you that we have a situation,” he said as calmly as he could. These people didn’t have their hunting rifles, but unless they were stupid, they had handguns. And they’d need them if they were going to survive. “It’s everyone for themselves, people. Godspeed!”

* * *

Jack was the first of the team to spot people spilling from the bus like rats from a sinking ship — the truck Troy had spotted three minutes ago had turned out to be a false alarm. The bus had just come to a jerking stop at the back of the traffic line, and maybe the mass exodus was innocent, maybe there was an emergency on the bus and the panicked rush to exit was completely innocent. Maybe this was a false alarm, too.

But it sure didn’t look like it.

“Troy!” Jack shouted over his shoulder, pointing frantically as he took off down the hillside, pistol leading the way. “Come on!”