Shadow Target (Shadow Team #6)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

S hep Porter entered Delos Charity H.Q. He had an uneasy feeling as he took a special secure elevator down two stories beneath the building and got off at the floor the Artemis Security mission planning area was on. After a few turns down some corridors later, he arrived at the briefing room and pushed the door open. At a long, polished maple table sat people he knew.

Being a civil engineer, Shep pretty much already knew what the briefing he was there for would be about. He’d been on long-term loan as a Captain in the Marine Corps and had been working undercover with Delos charities for two years now. The unease he’d initially felt about all this kept moving uncomfortably through his gut, and he felt it tighten. He’d already talked with Tal Culver-Lockwood, the President of Artemis, about the up-and-coming work assignment. She’d spotted him the other day, eating in the underground cafeteria on the second floor, and had sat down to talk with him for a moment, her own tray in hand.

“Hey, Cav Jordan wants you to head up a new global initiative, Shep. It involves construction and you’re the right man for this upcoming mission.”

“Oh?” He’d overseen global assignments as a civil engineer project manager before, handling millions of dollars involving overseas military assignments. At thirty years old, he was at the top of his game. His extensive military experience had honed his ability to manage thousands of people at a time. And to do it successfully. Nothing made him feel prouder of his people than to see them complete the assignments he set and bring them in on time and within budget.

He brought his attention back to the present; deep underground, walking into the briefing room. He sported a beard while on secret assignments, and knew people always said he looked like a California surfer dude because of it. It belied his position as an officer in the military. His gaze swept the large room with its two huge screens, one situated on each side wall. There were laptops ready in front of each chair, along with flash drives sitting beside each of them. Tal sat at one end of the long table with the mission brief and her own thumb drive beneath her hands, nodding hello to him. She waved for him to come and sit next to her, gesturing to the chair that sat on her right-hand side. On her left sat Wyatt Lockwood, her husband, ex-Navy SEAL, who was the head of mission planning and a fixture at every major briefing. The Texan gave him a big ‘howdy’ grin and Shep returned it, liking his laid-back demeanor.

Matt Culver, Tal’s brother, two years younger than her, sat next to him, dressed casually in jeans and a black t-shirt, his brown and gold hair longish, giving him the same kind of California surfer look Shep sported. It was his lion-gold eyes that reminded Shep that Matt’s family was only half Caucasian American, the other half mostly Turkish with a dab of Greek thrown in; a DNA hodgepodge of East meets West. Matt had that deep tan color of the Turkish people in his pedigree, even though Shep knew he didn’t get outside as much as he’d like. As an ex-Delta Force operator, Matt headed up the branch of their global charity organization that dealt with kidnap and ransom situations. He wondered if this assignment had overtones of such ‘KNR’ potential involved. Usually, the military utilized him in covert engineering jobs in third world countries, picking up important intelligence info that he fed back to the CIA. Hoping KNR was not involved in this latest mission, he sat down in the comfortable black leather chair across from the red-haired Alexa Culver. She was the youngest of the three Culver siblings, looking very Caucasian, taking after that side of the family, and was the head of the Safe House Division for disadvantaged women and their families around the world.

Shep didn’t want to admit it, but Alexa’s red hair, piled up in a careless knot on top of her head as it was, reminded him of his ex-wife, Willow Chamberlin; she had red hair. that she’d always worn fashioned into one long braid hanging between her shoulder blades whenever she’d flown her F-16 combat jet fighter out of Bagram Army base in Afghanistan. To say she was hell-on-wheels was an understatement. And she’d drawn his attention the very first time they’d met, coincidentally running into each another at a pizza joint on restaurant row. They were both Type-As, always in a hurry and, that night, for whatever reason, they’d backed into one another at the crowded pizza joint. He’d damn near knocked her over, catching her before she fell to the cobblestoned floor. Luckily for him, she had a wry sense of humor, thanking him for hauling her to her feet before she hit the tiles. Her first words to him over the din of constant chatter and the jukebox wailing out yet another tune were, “That’s a helluva way to get my attention.”

Warmth had flowed through his heart whether he’d wanted it to or not. Willow and he had fallen into bed that night like elks during rutting season, to put it bluntly. They’d had great sex. And then they’d had some more. It’d ended up they didn’t sleep at all, and had greeted the dawn together with bloodshot eyes. Her red hair had been tousled, and she’d looked more like a young college-aged girl than the balls-to-the-wall combat jet jockey she really was. To this day, even though they’d divorced three years earlier, Shep had never forgotten that satisfied cat-like look in Willow’s light-green eyes.

Snapping himself back from the past to the meeting at hand, his faraway gaze focused again on Alexa, who had been a US Air Force C-130 transport pilot herself assigned to Bagram. She wore a purple dress, feminine pearls around her neck and on her earlobes. He shifted his gaze to Cav Jordan. An ex-SEAL, he was one of their Asia and Middle-Eastern specialists, and had a thick briefing manual sitting in front of him. Tal had mentioned Africa, so he knew why Cav was here for this briefing. Shep had never been to Africa. He’d never been ordered to the ‘Dark Continent’. He’d been to the Middle East, Europe and Afghanistan, but never there.

The door slid shut.

Shep knew these mission briefing rooms were state-of-the-art. The walls were made of special composite materials that would not allow any enemy satellites overhead to snoop electronically, or in any other way, through the ceiling or walls. Everything spoken in this room was recorded but channeled to the safety of a huge underground vault where all the servers, the heart of their top-secret system, were located. He’d been down there once, and thought it looked even larger than what the CIA had back at Langley. But then, Dilara and Robert Culver, the parents of the clan, were rich beyond most people’s imaginations. They could easily afford the best. Dilara’s Turkish and Greek sides of her family owned together the largest shipping container fleet in the world and were collectively worth trillions of dollars. Figures like that were mind-boggling to Shep, who loved math and numbers.

Yet, to meet the children of Dilara and Robert, all here in this room, one would think they were normal, everyday folk. But they weren’t, not by a long mile. Their parents had raised them to not be tied to their money or their power or made to feel they were special or different from everyone else on the planet. Upon meeting any of them, Shep had always been amazed at how down-to-earth, warm and caring these three siblings were to everyone. That had been an amazing discovery when he’d first been ordered by the Marine Corps Commandant to work for Delos as an undercover agent for an undisclosed period of time. It was an odd order, and Shep had never been told exactly why he’d been chosen for the super-secret job. But his instincts, as well-honed as they were, whispered to him that Delos was so large and global that positioning a few well-chosen military people within, was a positive move for both sides.

People here treated one another, no matter who they were, as equals and in a friendly, respectful manner. Competition did not exist in this place, which was refreshing to him. Shep supposed that was down to Dilara’s direct influence, since she was president of the global charity group.

“Well,” Tal murmured, watching the first screen come alive down at the other end of the room as Wyatt threw some photos up on it, “let’s get on with it, shall we?”

Shep saw the computer screen flicker on. He had his own laptop open, as well, fully prepared to take part in the high-tech briefing. “Let’s go for it,” he told her.

Smiling faintly, Tal said, “We’ve been thrown a bit of a curveball on this one, Shep. And we’re not sure you’re going to be willing to take it once you find out what that is, but know that the mission has already been cleared with the Marine Corps, CIA and FBI. For now,” and she gestured toward the screen at the other end of the room, “I’m going to ask Wyatt to give the briefing. You need to know what you’re in for. And of course, you can refuse the assignment at any time, with no hard feelings.”

“Right,” Shep murmured. What curveball? His engineer’s mind went into overdrive for a second, but he found nothing. He’d never turned down an assignment, and wouldn’t start now. He had no African experience, so that could well be what Tal was referring to. He focused in on Wyatt’s presentation, watching the screen.

“We’ll be sending you to Ethiopia. There’s a huge lake, Tana, in the Northern Provinces of the Amhara Tribe. At the southern tip of the lake is Bahir Dar: Population three-hundred thousand and change, part of the capitol of the Amhara Region. The Blue Nile, a major waterway, originates from the lake.” He raised an eyebrow and gave Shep a glance. “Emperor Haile Selassie, long since passed, was of the Amhara tribe. At one time, he considered moving the national capitol to his own tribe’s regional capitol, but didn’t.”

“Was that my history lesson on this trip?” Shep asked, grinning.

Wyatt chuckled. “I believe our people need to know the history of the area, as well as just cold logistics. It puts a lot of understanding in us as to how things evolved in any given spot in the world.” He pushed a second thumb drive toward Shep. “There’s the rest of your history lesson as well as a lot of other useful did-you-knows.”

Smile increasing, Shep took the folder. “I’ve got a long flight in front of me, so I’ll be needing some good reading material.”

Wyatt produced a third thumb drive, handing it to him. “The rest of it is on here. Top secret. Need-to-know only. And only you and the pilots need to know.”

“Pilots?”

“Yes, we hired two of them from Shield Security, out in Alexandria, Virginia, a year ago. They are under contract to us moving forward. They will be ferrying you and your team around various villages in the Northern Provinces.”

“Okay,” Shep said, placing the thumb drives into his briefcase.

Wyatt pressed a key on his laptop and up came a new photo on the big screen.

“This is a Somali tribesman, Tefere David, who was born there but has spent most of his time in Ethiopia and will generally make your life hell while you make the security upgrades around each of our Delos charities on that list of cities and villages in front of you,” and he gestured to the information on the wall screen. “Tefere David is forty years old, black hair, dark brown eyes, and is a scavenger of the first order. He was kidnapped from his village at the age of eight by Somali warlord Cumar Hanad, who then raised him. Tefere refers to him as his father and works for him to this day. He now has a five-hundred-man group of ragtag Somali soldiers in Ethiopia where he has based his so-called kingdom. Over the last six months, he and his thugs have been hitting our charity outposts in the rural villages you see on the screen. Their intent is to rob. To take money, food and anything else they can carry. It is disrupting the Delos charity program in that region, as a result. So far, they have not killed anyone. He’s got one helluva track record on doing just that, but we believe from the emerging pattern, that this time he’s wanting goods, not taking lives. At least, not yet,” and Wyatt lifted his head toward Alexa. “You want to fill Shep in on what he’s gonna be doing?”

Alexa pushed yet another thumb drive across the table to him. “Tefere is in bed, if you’ll pardon the pun, with Valdrin Rasari, a Russian billionaire, the biggest and most successful sex trafficker in the world. Rasari lives in the small European country of Malgar which is near Albania. We have been working closely with Shield Security who have intercepted a cell phone call, via the CIA, of Rasari and David making a deal worth millions. For the last six months, the Somali has been using his Russian-supplied army vehicles to roar into one of the villages where a Delos charity is located. They shoot up the general area to scare the population into submission. There’s always a huge Russian truck along on these attacks. His soldiers spread out and start grabbing young girls around age twelve through fifteen, and boys seven to twelve and throw them in the truck. They kidnap them and then they’re transported to Malgar where Rasari puts them on a global dark web internet site, which is their selling block. These children will never see their families again.” Her voice dropped. “Statistics on stolen children who are pushed into sex trafficking show that they are usually dead before the age of eighteen.” Alexa shook her head. “It’s a hopeless, brutal life for them.”

Shep scowled. “Shouldn’t the Ethiopian army be doing something? Or the police? Or whoever?”

“Not enough men or equipment, and there’s little intel on where Tefere David will hit next. He’s wily and he’s careful on cell phone usage. The CIA only got lucky when they intercepted that one call between the two slavers six months ago,” Alexa added.

“I’m getting the picture that me and my team will be in the midst of David’s war campaign of attacking Delos schools,” Shep said, giving Tal and then Wyatt a look.

Tal nodded. “That’s why you’ll have a full security team from Shield Security of fourteen fine men and women. Right now, we have a Delos C17 Globemaster transport on its way over to Bahir Dar with them on board. Lucky for us, they have airport runways long enough for a bird of that size. The Shield tactical team is also on board, and so are their vehicles, supplies, weapons, and anything else they need. We’ve invested heavily via Shield, to raise the level of protection for our charities. We’ve asked them to go undercover, and for all of them to wear the Delos insignia on their uniform even though they aren’t really a part of our organization. I don’t think it would go down all that well if every man and his dog knew they were the cream of the crop of ex-military people we’ve hired from one of the best global security agencies in the world.”

“The Ethiopian government has given their blessing on our mission into their country with our undercover Shield Security people,” Wyatt told him. “Major General Iskinder Hakym, the Northern Command boss, has approved the Shield weapons, vehicles and people. We’ve put signed orders on every Shield Security person so that if they’re ever challenged by the ENDF, the Ethiopian National Defense Force, we won’t have any of them arrested and thrown in the brig. They will be carrying Delos orders on them, as well. If anything goes south, Shield Security will become directly involved in getting their people out of danger.”

“I would imagine, under the circumstances,” Shep said, “the general would welcome those Shield Security people with open arms. Maybe a parade?”

A sour grin crossed Wyatt’s mouth. “Damn good thing you’re a Marine and you know the military, Porter.”

Shep nodded. “It helps. So, am I putting this together correctly? I’ll have my undercover U.S. Navy Seebee construction team, posing as Delos employees, any equipment and supplies I need to upgrade the Delos charities, plus this robust security detachment from Shield, also undercover, because David is out to plunder any Delos charity he can?”

“Damn,” Wyatt drawled, “you’re the brightest bulb in the pack, pardner.”

The whole table broke into chuckles, everyone trading grins. Dry and black humor were a necessary component to every military vet and branch.

“No half-watts in here,” Shep intoned, bringing another round of good-hearted laughter. It broke the seriousness of the assignment for a moment.

“I’m going to hand this briefing over to Cav Jordan,” Wyatt said, motioning to the ex-SEAL. “Cav? You’re one of our best Middle East and Asian experts. Fill him in on the political drama going along with everything else Shep will have to contend with?”

Cav nodded and slid a thumb drive toward Shep to add to his growing collection. “The Blue Nile is one of the most vital, life-giving rivers in Africa.” He flipped a map up on the screen showing Khartoum, Sudan and a blue line moving like a lazy snake across Africa, into Ethiopia and eventually connecting to Lake Tana at Bahir Dar. “The Blue Nile originates from Lake Tana, moves up through Ethiopia, into the Sudan, merging with the White Nile, becoming known as just ‘The Nile’, which flows through Egypt and completes its journey at the Mediterranean Sea near Alexandria. The Ethiopian government decided to build a dam just inside their border with Sudan. It’s called the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam Project. They wanted to harness hydroelectric power for their people. The project started in April 2019 and is slated to come online in 2025, providing there are no major construction setbacks. The President of Egypt had a secret discussion that got televised live in what may have been a hot mic flub, or maybe intentional. He was aired discussing ways to destroy the dam, including the harnessing and supporting of anti-Ethiopian-government rebels. The governments of Egypt and Sudan are worried that this new Ethiopian dam coming online will hurt water resources in their country. Of course, Ethiopia says it won’t.”

“But we have drought in Africa,” Matt Culver said. “And by damming up the Blue Nile, Ethiopia may well cause the lowering of water levels and the depletion of the underground water table in the region during low rain years. Isn’t that right, Cav?”

Cav nodded. “Yes. It’s a real issue. Ethiopia is trying the hard sell to its own people that this dam is a good idea. Countries to the north, however, feels it’s going to hurt their water supply, especially during this unprecedentedly long, ongoing drought brought about by climate change.”

“So, it’s a flashpoint,” Shep gathered.

“Yes, and a number of the northern villages where Delos charities operate are within twenty miles of that dam project.”

Studying the map before him, Shep said, “So that means the Shield Security team has to be aware of ‘other’ domestic terrorists or mercenary soldiers, who may be Egyptian or Sudanese in disguise, who are really in the area to scuttle the dam project?”

“Bingo. There’s twenty-thousand people and their villages that are going to have to be moved before this dam goes online. No one’s happy about it. All the farmers down below the dam in Ethiopia, who need the flood season of the Blue Nile to water their crops, are out of luck. It will put an end to flood seasons. It’s an ongoing destabilizing threat to the Northern Province of Ethiopia. What we care about are the Delos charities in that region. We don’t want our people inadvertently dragged into a war with Egypt or Sudan over water rights. So, we’ve got an Air Force satellite on loan from those good people, and it will be stationed over your area. We want to see who’s around and what’s cookin’,” Wyatt told him. “The CIA, as well as our people, will be monitoring the situation 24/7/365.”

“Are you looking out for Tefere David, also?” Shep asked.

“Yes. We are working with a CIA agent on the ground who is undercover in Bahir Dar. He’s adding David to his watchlist for us and if he picks up any intel, Shield and Delos will both be informed immediately.”

“That’ll make me feel a little safer while we’re stringing ten-foot cyclone fences topped with razor wire all around these charity grounds,” he said, glancing at the blueprints for some of the installations.

“The concertina razor wire, we hope, will act as a decisive deterrent to any attack on a Delos charity building,” Matt said. “There’s only so much we can do in these rural areas, but something is better than nothing.”

“Right,” Shep agreed, “it is.”

“The villages you need to go to all have dirt air strips and nothing more. They’re basic,” Wyatt told him. “The Shield pilots wear a Delos patch on their uniforms, as well. They are flying a de Havilland Twin Otter: a Pratt-and-Whitney-driven twin-engine airplane. These two pilots have been undercover there for one year on this assignment and know the lay of the land and are competent with rural landing situations and challenges like this. This particular plane can normally hold up to nineteen passengers. But we’ve had it specially designed by the manufacturer so that all seats can be removed and plenty of foodstuffs, supplies and construction equipment can be brought on board, instead.”

Cav spoke up. “Shep? These villages are poor. If you ever left any of your tools, supplies or equipment behind? They would disappear. What this means is that each time you move to a new village, those Shield pilots are going to be flying four or five trips that day, to firstly get the security team in place, then fly you and your support team in, and then to bring in all the rest of the tools and equipment you need. It will be a long day.”

“And their security team will be protecting our gear and supplies in the meantime?”

“Yes.”

“You will receive tents and cots for everyone,” Wyatt told him. “This is like an overnight camping trip. You’ll carry your own water and food, as well. We have two cooks assigned to your unit to feed everyone.”

“I’ll have to polish up on my outdoorsmanship,” Shep said, smiling faintly as he studied the pages listing all the tools and equipment that would be flown from one village to another.

“Oh,” Wyatt said, leaning back in his chair, giving him a good-ole-boy grin, “you Marines made rough, challenging missions an art form. I’m sure a tent and cot sound like the Hilton Hotel to you.”

Shep chuckled and nodded. “Got me dead to rights on that one, Lockwood. Spot on.”

Tal leaned forward, giving Wyatt a glance. “Shep? What do you think of the assignment so far? Is it a go?”

“Yes. This is just like Afghanistan, Iraq and, later, outlying villages in Turkey me and my construction teams were assigned to, whether building irrigation ditches, drilling a well, or trying to otherwise improve their lives while bad guys lurked around. No difference to me.”

Tal’s lips thinned. “Remember? I told you there was a curveball to this assignment.”

Shep held her somber look. “You did. What is it?”

Gesturing to the screen, she said, “The PIC, pilot in command, and co-pilot both work for Shield Security out of Bahir Dar. Willow Chamberlin is the PIC. Your ex-wife.”

The pit of Shep’s stomach clenched like a painful fist. He stared at Tal, shock racing through him. He had very little connection with Willow. Shep never asked where she was or what she was doing. They kept their few emails brief, breezy and impersonal. But still he always looked forward to them, no matter how brief or blasé they were. Knowing he had hurt Willow badly, Shep sensed she was protecting herself from some immature actions on his behalf in the past. She was a feminist, and he’d overreacted to that side of her all the time. And because they’d both been cocksure and hotheaded, neither had given, nor even considered, a compromised middle-ground to keep their budding relationship viable. It had been a death-spiral for their marriage, no matter how well they’d gotten along in bed. That was all three years in the past, and now it seemed like another lifetime ago.

Tal studied him, silence cloaking the room.

Shep turned, his gaze on the screen as he stared at Willow’s image. In the displayed photo, she was wearing a dark-green one-piece flight suit with her name patch, ‘Chamberlin, W.’ stitched on it. On her left sleeve was sewn an American flag. On the right, as part of her undercover status, in big yellow embroidered letters was ‘Delos Charities’ with her name below it again.

His throat tightened. He was unable to tear his gaze from her oval, unsmiling face. She wore an olive-green baseball cap with the Delos logo on the front of it. She had her bright, carrot-red hair gathered into a ponytail. But it was those green eyes of hers, large, intelligent and taking no prisoners, that his gaze was stapled to. She was standing next to her Otter twin-engine aircraft, hands in pockets, looking supremely confident. He knew that look. After all, she’d been a badass combat pilot, hurling destruction below her to keep her comrades in arms safe on that ever-changing battlefield called Afghanistan.

“Willow and her co-pilot, Dev Mitchell, are both Shield Security employees, and they have a contract to stay at Bahir Dar for two years. Her job as PIC is to take all the supplies Delos ships in monthly to all the villages you see on that piece of paper. Her copilot is another ex-USAF transport pilot and Shield employee. Together, they fly into each of the dirt strips next to the villages, delivering the goods and supplies to the Delos charity that supports its population. Both had known one another at Bagram and become good friends.”

Shep noticed the black nylon drop holster around Willow’s right thigh and the .45 pistol in it. “So, nowhere in Africa is safe?” he asked, turning to Cav, the expert.

“Not really,” he said. “Some places are safer than others. Some places hire security guards to keep it that way. With domestic or foreign terrorism, no place in the world is safe anymore. It isn’t just Africa.” Cav pointed toward the screen. “As I understand it, Willow and Dev are in constant potential danger because they’re operating in outlying, rural villages. We know that Tefere’s soldiers rove these areas, looking for ways to rob and plunder the Delos charities in them. The only reason they haven’t been able to is due to a back-door agreement with General Hakym. He’s put a squad of ten soldiers at each Delos charity. They live in those villages and that has deterred several attacks by Tefere David on them, as a result. But it’s not foolproof.”

“And,” Wyatt said, “that’s all ending once we get our new security measures in place via Shield. We may also have to place a permanent security team at each location until Tefere David can be caught and brought to justice or killed by General Hakym’s soldiers. They are actively looking for him and his men, but it’s a big area and he doesn’t have unlimited resources to find the bastard.”

“I see.” Shep tried to settle his thudding heart as he kept his gaze trained on Willow’s face. Her nose was red from being out in the sun too long. She was a redhead; her skin was very white and very susceptible to too much sunlight. That was why she’d always worn a baseball cap at Bagram while she’d been stationed there in another desert country. The sleeves of her uniform were rolled up to just below her elbows and he saw the aviator’s watch on her slender right wrist. Willow was five foot seven inches tall, around a hundred and forty pounds. She was built lean like a greyhound, with small breasts and slender hips. To an outsider, it would be a hard guess she’d been a combat pilot. He smiled to himself, knowing she was a like a Belgian Malinois combat attack dog who took no prisoners. That side of her rarely showed, except when she was sitting in the cockpit of her F-16, taking out the bad guys to protect the American soldiers below her spread wings.

“Well?” Tal asked, holding Shep’s gaze. “Are you still in this assignment or not? You will be interfacing with Willow all the time. She and her copilot will be constantly flying in and out of the villages where you’ll be working to put the security fencing in place for each charity.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with it.” He saw Tal’s eyes narrow speculatively on him, almost feeling her energy in his mind, trying to read his thoughts.

Wyatt added, “Look, Willow and Dev have worked with Delos out in that area of the world for a long time. They’re good at what they do. Both are savvy ex-military trained pilots and they know the lay of the land. You need to realize that they both have experiences and observations that are going to help the new Shield security team and your Delos employees, so you need to listen to them, Shep. Is that going to be a problem between you and Willow?”

Shep knew he was a stubborn but stable kind of personality. Just like Willow was, but he’d called her headstrong and bullheaded. When one puts two bars of titanium steel in a vice, not much give or flexibility is accorded one to the other. Wiping his bearded jaw, he said, “Not a problem. I value my people’s protection. I’ll listen to Willow and Dev’s experience and counsel. Just because Willow and I couldn’t make the marriage work doesn’t mean I can’t work with her on a professional level.” Shep saw the question in Wyatt’s eyes, but the Texan said nothing, only giving him a brief nod.

“Okay, everyone can leave except Tal, Alex, Matt, Shep and myself,” Wyatt told the room. Within a few minutes, the room was cleared out, the door shut, and silence returned to it.

Alexa said, “Shep? This is private between the four of us. We’re shutting off the recording equipment because it needs to stay within this circle. I know Willow personally. I’ve worked with her closely in the past. I was an Air Force officer and flew a Warthog combat jet like she did.” She opened her hands. “You might say we’re sisters of a sort because of the background and experiences as combat pilots that we share.”

“Okay,” Shep said, “what are you trying to say, Alexa?”

Her body language visibly uncomfortable, Alexa said, “I’ve never lost contact with her. We’ve always remained good friends. From time to time, Willow would open up to me about her marriage to you. It sounded more like a dog and cat fight. You two butted heads constantly. Neither of you, from the sounds of it, could make a compromise for the other. You were always both right. Neither was ever wrong.” She tilted her head. “Am I incorrect about my analysis?”

Shep could feel the tension rise slightly in the silence of the room. Women talked. He knew that. So, he wasn’t surprised that Willow and Alexa were tighter than thieves because of their mutual military background. Clearing his throat, he said, “No, your observations are correct.”

“Okay,” Alexa pressed, “if that’s so? What makes you think that you’ll be able to get along now for the sake of the assignment?”

It was a fair question and Shep knew it. He ruffled inwardly; his pride hurt. But then, he knew he had too much pride and wasn’t ever able to admit he was wrong about something. “Maturity? Time? We’ve been divorced three years. I’ve grown up, I hope, a lot since then.”

Wyatt jumped in. “Shep, with all due respect, I’ve looked at the reports from your people when researching your field notes. You are considered an able manager, you listen well, you ask for your employees’ thoughts and ideas. That’s very different than what we’re hearing about happened between you and Willow. You seemed not to be able to respect the other person’s ideas or experiences, at all.”

Shep felt the heat of the people at the table. It was a legitimate conversation, and he knew the Delos people were trying to ensure a successful outcome to this mission. He could feel them questioning if he could honestly carry off the assignment successfully, given his stubbornness toward Willow. Folding his hands over the manual in front of him, he gave them all a serious look. “No, you’re right. I’ll make it work because we aren’t married any longer. To me? Now? She’s just an employee from another company. I’m a professional working undercover for Delos. I’ll slip into my managerial mode, and we’ll get along and I’ll make it work.” He saw some relief in their expressions. They needed assurance that he would do his level best to keep it a peaceful venture, not a contentious one like their marriage had been for all those stormy years.

Tal sat back. “Okay, good enough, Shep. Wyatt is going to send Willow an encrypted file that will give her all the info on you, on the large Shield Security team coming in posing as Delos employees, and on the undercover Navy Seabee construction teams. Our next step is to find out whether she can work with YOU.”