Chapter 2
TWO
Undisclosed Location, West Virginia
Noah Rourke took the switchbacks fast, wishing he were on his motorcycle for this and not driving the most boring car in the universe. But the title was clean, and it was registered to him at the address where his business was technically based.
Making sure it was all above board was boring as all get-out, sure.
But driving up to the entrance where their security would run his plates, do facial rec on his mug, and probably use some kind of X-ray to see the VIN number of the car—and where the steel pin resided in his spine—he had to have impeccable credentials to get in the front door.
Especially if the whole point was to convince the CIA to trust him.
Later, he could take his bike out for a ride.
“Morning, sir.” The guard stared down at him through wraparound sunglasses. White shirt, black slacks, and a gun on his hip. But Noah wasn’t going to make the mistake of underestimating the—
Noah held out his credentials and did a double take. “Billy Frampton?”
The guard tipped his head back and laughed. “Only frogmen call me Billy.” He snatched the IDs out of Noah’s hand.
“I recognized you on account of your inherent resolve.” Noah figured the guy would remember the operation the USS Harry S. Truman had been on the year his SEAL team were on board for precisely two weeks. Long enough to cause plenty of problems. But they had completed the mission.
“I still gotta run your name.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Noah put the car in Park and waited while Billy went to his guard shack and sat at the computer. Probably should’ve mentioned his appointment with Division Chief Thomas Kraus.
His phone vibrated from the clasp on his dash, and his brother’s name flashed on the screen, backed by an image of Caleb smiling with his wife. It was still odd to see the guy actually smile. Same way it was odd to see someone who looked so identically like Noah with a woman.
Go figure.
Noah slid his finger across the screen. “Hey, bro. I’m at the entrance of you-know-where.”
“I won’t keep you long.”
“He’s running my ID now,” Noah said. Huge black walnut trees flanked both sides of the asphalt lane in front of him, blue sky stretched above them with clouds threatening from the east. Chain link, topped by razor wire.
Yeah, this entrance made the place look like an upscale prison.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t end up having to Shawshank his way out.
“That why I’m getting flashes of nerves?” Caleb said.
Noah watched Billy at the computer. “As if I’d ever feel that enough you’d get a taste.”
“Not me that’s nervous.”
“Yeah, right. New wife. Baby on the way. You’re terrified.”
Caleb’s low chuckle came through the car speakers. “They’re both good, by the way. Tessa and the baby. Doctor said things are progressing well. Thinks she’s about six pounds now, and it won’t be long.”
“What are you gonna call her?”
“We’re still figuring it out.”
Noah had a few suggestions, but he could put them in an email—to his sister-in-law. “How’s the old man?”
“Aah.” Caleb groaned out the word. “You know, same old. Morgan came over to check out the dog, recommended some labs to check his kidneys are still good. Pops wanted to pick up the old guy and put him in the SUV. Nearly threw his back out trying to heft that mutt in the back of the car. Thankfully, I caught him doing it before he injured himself and helped him out.”
“What about ranch chores?”
“He walks. I doubt he’ll ever quit walking, no matter how long he lives. But these days I try to get to the work before he does.”
Noah looked up as Billy handed him back his IDs. “Thanks.”
Billy smiled. “No problem.”
At the same time, Caleb said, “I got it.”
Billy backed up a step. “You’re clear to enter. They’re waiting for you in building three. Someone will meet you in the lobby. Don’t get lost.”
Noah nodded. “Have a good one.” He waited as the gate rattled open on tiny wheels, then drove through.
“So they let you in?” Caleb asked.
“And you’re surprised? I’m legit, man. People vouch for me.”
Caleb laughed. “We can’t all be a disgraced DEA agent turned rancher.”
“They cleared your name.”
“And no one will ever work with me again. Turns out I don’t care. Ranch life? Family life? You should try it. But there’s a reason I landed here and you’re the one with a meeting at the other other CIA building. The one they don’t show on TV.”
Noah chuckled. “Surprise, that’s just for PR. So people think they know where the secrets are.”
The single asphalt lane in front of him curved to the east, flanked by several four-story structures.
One looked brand-new, all glass and shimmering reflected sunlight.
The others were of varying ages, and the tiny one that emerged to the left of the collection of buildings looked like it had been here since World War II.
Which, given the history of this place, wasn’t surprising.
Caleb said, “You know your GPS just disappeared.”
“I’m surprised it lasted this long—”
Before he’d even finished speaking, the call dropped and his phone beeped. No signal.
Noah found a space in front of the building with a giant 3 on the side, just below the roof.
A breeze kicked up as he got out, swishing through the trees and ruffling his hair in a way that told him he needed a haircut.
He slipped on the suit jacket he had hanging on the hook behind his seat and headed for the entrance.
Inside smelled like lemon floor cleaner with an undercurrent of soil. A wide reception desk was occupied by two armed security guards, but he spotted a woman in a tan skirt suit and salmon blouse approach him from the right.
“Mr. Rourke, good to see you again.” She held her hand out, reading glasses hanging from the buttons of her shirt. Lines around her eyes, and her light-brown hair tied back.
“You as well, Doctor Peraya.” Noah shook her hand.
“I’m afraid the process of getting you through security didn’t end at the gate and is notably arduous.”
“Of course.” He returned her professional smile.
“However, we’ll be ready for you by the time you get through to the other side.” She clasped her hands in front of her.
“I appreciate your time, Doctor.”
“See you on the other side, as they say!” She waved him to the front desk and stayed on the periphery the entire time.
He was divested of his belongings, sent through the scanner—a hallway only big enough for one person to pass through, with glass on the sides that reflect his image back to him on all axes—and finally given a visitor pass, but was told to remain with his escort at all times.
“Understood.” Noah wanted to ask if they meant the doctor should accompany him to the bathroom as well, but figured his humor might backfire with these guys.
“This way, Mr. Rourke.” Dr. Peraya led him to an elevator, where she hit the button for basement level two.
“How is our…guest doing these days? Settling in okay?”
“Wonderfully. Our conversations have proven fruitful.”
“Really.” Noah hadn’t figured Kessler would say much of anything, but then again this was the CIA. He probably didn’t want to ask precisely how they had gathered intelligence from a man Noah and his team had detained in Miami months ago.
“I’m good at my job.” The doors slid open, and they stepped out into a long empty hallway lined with closed doors that had numbers etched into them.
At the end, stopping in front of a set of double doors in some kind of dark wood—at least the facade—Peraya slid a key card across a scanner beside the door.
A lock clicked, and she pushed the door open.
Noise from inside washed out of a room, which had been set up like a NASA control room. Tiered rows of computers all faced a huge LED wall. Smaller screens filled the walls on either side, and about fifteen people were sitting or standing. Most wore headsets.
Noah gave the screens a quick scan.
“See anything you recognize?” Peraya asked.
“Ah.” Noah cleared his throat.
“Do you?”
Noah pointed at the man pictured on a screen to the left. “His name is Richard Leesbury. When I knew him, he was an SAS soldier working with a European multinational unit outside Djibouti.”
One of the analysts close enough to have heard him unplugged her headset, ran over to a guy at the end of the tier, and leaned in to tell him something. The room started to buzz.
Peraya winked at him. “And you haven’t even been here five minutes.” She continued walking, leading him to a glass-walled room where the division chief sat behind a desk.
“So you’re interested in Leesbury?”
“We’re interested enough we’d like to find out who he is currently—and who he has been. Which you’ve just aided us with.” She shut the door behind him and touched a button on a panel beside the door. “Chief Kraus, this is Noah Rourke.”
The chief leaned back, making his chair creak, and laced his hands over the strained buttons at his middle. “Rourke. You’re the Navy SEAL?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll admit, delivering Nathan Kessler to us gives you some credence. We don’t take kindly to our own going freelance through embezzling US funds and making millions smuggling for cartels and the like.”
Sounded like a Wikipedia bio. And all of that information was the least of what Noah had discovered about Kessler.
“He came after my brother.”
“And so your team scooped him up.” Kraus gestured toward a chair in front of the desk, and Dr. Peraya settled in. “Now you want contracts.”
Noah wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of shifting his weight like he was nervous, but the itch in his spine almost made him give in.
He eased into the available seat. Carefully avoiding leaning his back against the chair, but not so carefully they’d know something was wrong with his spine. No one knew. Not even Caleb.
“I know about Division Zero, Chief.” Noah paused. “I know the last two teams you’ve contracted with have proven less than reputable. My team has the utmost integrity. I vouch for every single one of them.”