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Ryker eased the door open and slipped inside. He went to the end of one of the aisles and peeked around. Damned if one of the mercs wasn’t going down the row with his rifle, checking each and every row like he was going to find somebody. Ryker recognized him. He was one of the men who had handed the boy to Frank. He pulled his knife out of its sheath and waited.

The boy sure took his time.

Ryker continued to wait.

Finally, he heard the man’s footsteps almost to him, but the barrel of the rifle came first. Ryker grabbed the barrel, yanked it forward, and pulled the merc toward him, making it easy to shove the knife right up and under his breastbone and twist, while at the same time covering his mouth. He watched dispassionately as the life drained out of his eyes.

“We’re down one,” Ryker whispered.

“Make that two,” Kostya responded.

“Come in, Edwards.” Ryker heard the request clearly through the dead man’s comm device. “Edwards, report.”

Ryker grinned. It was Frank, and he wasn’t sounding too happy.

“Edwards. Report in immediately.”

There was a long pause. “Everybody, report in.”

“This is Nordstrom,” he whispered into his mic and Ryker could hear it in the dead man’s comm system.

“Vickers here.”

“Englehart here.”

“Landers here.”

There was a long pause.

“Edwards? Jackson?”

“Fuck!” Frank Sykes screamed. His voice could be heard throughout the factory. “You fucking do-gooders! Trying to ambush me and my team. Sending me on a wild-fucking goose chase. This kid’s life is on your head. You understand this, don’t you? Did you hear that? That was the sound of me pressing the button that just killed him. I hope he killed some of your fucking do-gooder teammates!”

“Ryker, take out whoever you can,” Kostya ordered.

“On it.”

“Team, evacuate,” Frank screamed again.

Ryker ran out the back door the way he came, and ran through the machining area, slipping on the metal shavings with his gauze-covered boots as he tried to get to the front reception area. When he finally got to the front of the building, he found Kostya shooting at a truck that was far out of range.

“Did you get any more? Frank, hopefully?” Ryker asked.

Kostya shook his head. “But we got the Princeton kids, and saved the boy, so that’s a win in my book.”

“Damned right.”

17

“I’m not quite sure that I understand everything, so let’s take it from the top,” Captain Hale said evenly. He was standing at the podium here in Little Creek, Virginia. There was no word as to why he was doing the debriefing instead of Commander Clark, but the team didn’t say anything. If Simon had just been out sick or something, or on a different duty, Captain Hale would have mentioned it, but since he didn’t, there was definitely something going on. Ryker figured that Kostya and Gideon would fill them in later.

“My first questions revolve around Dermott Carlisle. Did he or did he not, provide you with the assistance you needed on this operation?”

“As I explained in my debrief, Agent Carlisle performed adequately, and we were able to get the information we required,” Kostya answered.

Captain Hale nodded slowly.

“I read that, Lieutenant. I appreciate how you described his participation in your mission. I would have liked to have heard Akbas-Bey’s input, but information from her is not available at this point. I am very interested in what Chief Petty Officer Drakos has to say about Agent Carlisle’s performance. From what I read, you did an outstanding job, Jase. You stepped up into a new situation, and you were able to work fluidly to get information to your team in an immediate manner. Very impressive. Now I would like some candid feedback on Carlisle since you were in the meeting with him.”