Perhaps she just wants to please me.
Whether real or imaginary, her new-found growth had only sharpened her instincts. He trusted her opinion. “Nancy? You have concerns?”
His daughter blinked slowly, then turned to stare out the window. “He’s shown no signs of his previous behavior. He’s performed above expectations. What more do you want to know?”
“Are we ready for the next stage?”
Eric cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. “Next stage?”
“Not yet. Too many unknowns.”
“Excuse me,” Eric said. “What next stage?”
Nancy turned to Eric. “Nothing you should concern yourself with.”
Robert eased the Lincoln into the hangar reserved for the OTM and parked between Eric’s Gulfstream and Smith’s own.
Eric stared at Nancy, then turned to him. “Sir, if there’s something I should know….”
Smith shook his head. “You will know when you need to know.”
“I don’t like being kept out of the loop,” Eric said. “If I’m truly your successor, then I should know everything about the StrikeForce technology.”
“You are my successor,” Smith said, “but I’m not ready to divulge all my secrets just yet.”
Eric bit his lip, but nodded respectfully. “Yes, sir.”
“Can you give me a few minutes with my father?” Nancy asked.
Eric nodded and got out, motioning for their driver to do the same. Eric boarded the plane while Robert went to the office in the hangar looking for coffee, leaving the two of them alone in the backseat of the Lincoln.
“Can I speak frankly?”
“Of course,” he answered.
“You don’t seem yourself.”
He smiled. “I’m tired,” he said sincerely. “I’m not a young man anymore. I feel it in my bones.”
Nancy’s gaze sharpened. “You’ve been repeating yourself. You’ve never done that before.”
He patted her on the knee. “Usually, I’m the one worrying about you.”
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Perhaps I’m worried about young Eric. How is he?”
Nancy turned to stare at the Gulfstream. Her hand dropped and her fingertips lightly stroked against her leg. “He’s everything you thought he would be. He’s smart. Competent. Kind.”
Hobert Barnwell provided the broad details of Eric and Nancy’s working relationship, but he was glad to see it for himself. Eric was a good man, a man they trusted. Nancy would be in good hands. “I’ve studied your reports. You work well together.”
Her eyes darted back to his. “I… like him.”
He snorted. “Of course you do. He’s a good soldier, like his father.”
Eric’s father, William Wise, had been one of Smith’s closest friends, as was Eric’s grandfather, Joseph. After Truman ordered the OTM’s creation, Joseph was his first recruit. He remembered the look on Joseph’s face, his wide honest grin, his desire to serve his country. Together they had set up offices, gathered the analysts to plan and predict, and recruited the hard men to act on that intelligence. Together they had made history.
Before Joseph retired.
When William joined the Army, Joseph was reluctant to let him join the OTM. It took considerable persuasion, but finally William became the OTM’s main operative. With Hobert and William’s help, the OTM had stemmed the tide as best they could. When William finally retired, he stated in no uncertain terms the Wise family had paid their debt to the country.
Smith promised his still-young friend that no Wise would serve in the OTM. He watched Eric rise through the ranks, advancing quickly to the Rangers, before being selected for Delta Force. Eric was a phenomenal Operator. The OTM needed a man like him.
He held his promise until William died, and when he received the news, he pulled strings to get Eric’s deployment canceled. The timing was fortuitous. Project StrikeForce was ready to implement, and they had already captured Frist. It took very little convincing to recruit Eric. The simple truth was, he needed Eric to run Project StrikeForce and the OTM.
I have much to do before I slip away. I need Eric to protect the country, the OTM, and Nancy.
CHAPTER THREE
Valerie smiled mischievously. “That went well.”
Deion sighed and leaned back against the couch. From the kitchen, he heard his father cleaning and putting dishes in the dishwasher. “Just how I expected them to act.”
Truthfully, he had expected worse, but he still found his family’s behavior appalling. They had pulled together after his Mom died in ‘93, but Deion had been away at Harvard. The World Trade Center had just been bombed, killing six people. It was a wakeup call to the CIA, and one of his linguistics professors approached and recruited him. Not long after, he was sent to The Farm, the secret CIA training facility at Camp Peary.
He remembered the glares from his family when he told them he had to return to school. Kelvin took it the hardest, but Jamal and Darrel also resented his leaving.
He didn’t blame them. He couldn’t explain why he had to leave so suddenly. They were worried about their father, who was devastated, and his brothers were constantly checking on him, with occasional help from his mom’s sister, Sonya.
He called home as often as his schedule allowed, but it wasn’t the same.
They just assumed I abandoned them.
“So,” Valerie said, nodding at the kitchen. “Your father knows.”
He considered that. “It appears he does.”
Valerie moved closer, snuggling against him, the warmth of her body a pleasant sensation against his skin. “He’s a good man. He probably figured you didn’t want to worry him.”
Deion nodded. It was true. He didn’t want to worry his father, not after his mom’s death, but it turned out his father was hardier than everyone assumed. “Seems Paps knew all along. Guess he’s got a way of reading people”
Valerie squeezed his arm. “Must be where you get it from.”
Deion jerked as his cellphone buzzed, sitting up suddenly, causing Valerie to fall into the spot he had just occupied. He pulled the cellphone from his pocket and saw the caller ID. “I have to take this.”
Valerie shrugged, but he noticed her concern.
He walked quickly down the hall to the bathroom and shut the door before answering. “Go for Freeman.”
The familiar voice on the phone was apologetic. “Deion,” Sergeant Todd Clark said. “Sorry, but something’s come up. You need to get to the airport. Eric and Nancy will pick you up at 15:00.”
He shook his head, even though no one could see. “You’ve got to be kidding. I’ve still got a week.”
Clark laughed. “You told me you’d rather go back to Afghanistan than spend time with your brothers.”
“Good point. What’s the problem?”
There was a hesitation on the other end. “Possible Empty Quiver.”
A cold pit settled in his stomach. “What do we know?”
“Eric will brief you himself. Oh, and make sure your girlfriend comes with you.”
It was the last thing he expected. “Why?”
Clark’s voice sobered. “No idea, I’m just relaying orders. Will you make it?”
What choice do I have? “It’s going to be pushing it.”