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Amy was having a hard time understanding Lark. Finally, Jada got on the phone and explained the situation.

“I’ll take the next plane and be there in maybe three hours,” Amy told Jada.

“Uhm,” Jada said. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“What are you talking about?” Amy demanded to know. “Kostya is in the hospital and Lark is a mess. I want to be there for her, why wouldn’t that be a good idea? I can stay with Ryker.”

“I really can’t get into it, but Amy, you need to stay in D.C.,” Jada said firmly.

“No,” Amy said simply. “I’m flying down to be with my friend.” She hung up.

She’d always liked Jada, but she wasn’t going to put up with some kind of horseshit when Lark clearly needed her. Her phone rang; it was Jada again. Amy debated not taking the call, but she did. Maybe she was misunderstanding something.

“Amy, before you decide to come down here, you need to talk to Ryker. I’m not sure it’s safe here for you at the moment.”

“Huh? Jada, you are making absolutely no sense.”

“Don’t you get it? Kostya’s car had a bomb in it. He hit the key fob far enough away that luckily they weren’t killed by the blast. Something is hooey in Whoville, and it’s not safe for the SEAL boys and girls.”

“That’s not really true, is it?”

“No,” Jada sighed. “I’m probably making a mountain of a molehill. It probably is more geared toward the guys, and they can take care of themselves. But I can be a paranoid bitch, so yeah, I want to make sure people like you, Lark, and my friend Gianna are laying as low to the ground as possible.”

Holy mother of God.

“Okay, I won’t take the first plane to Virginia Beach. I’ll wait to talk to Ryker.”

“Thank you.”

Ryker didn’t like the woman. She was working too hard to exude maternal warmth and caring when she was the one who had made the decision not to let anyone in the Department of the Navy know that their men could be targets here in the United States. Now she was coming in here trying to make them understand why her decision made the best sense for National Security.

This was above his pay grade. He knew it would be taken care of one or two ways. Captain Hale would work with the Admiral, and her fancy-ass job would be on the ropes, or Gideon Smith would make sure her credit rating wouldn’t allow her to be able to afford to buy toilet paper.

“So now I’m sure you understand,” she said with her oh-so-oily-charming smile.

“Men, do you have any questions for Ms. Callahan?” Captain Hale asked.

No one raised their hands.

“Oh, there was one other thing,” she said as she picked up her slim leather briefcase. I think someone was asking about the Turkish woman. I can’t remember which one. I’ve got updates on both of them. Damla Akbas is in the hospital with stage two lymphoma. She’s with her family, and the prognosis is good. The other woman, well she’s actually American but she acted as your translator? Leila Cloud?”

“Yes,” Linc said. “What is her status?”

“She’s back here in the United States. That’s all I’m at liberty to share.” She turned back to Captain Hale. “Thank you again for your hospitality, Sir.”

She eased out of the door, kind of like a snake would, and everybody remained silent until the door clicked shut and they heard the sound of her high heels fade away.

“Gideon, what is the latest report on Kostya?” Hale demanded to know.

Gideon looked down at his tablet. “Still in surgery. More blood is on standby, but they don’t think he’ll need it.”

The Captain gave a quick jerk of his head.

“Okay, this is what the CIA isn’t telling us. They’ve done ops with Kraken Elite before. They don’t want anybody to know, because Frank Sykes is psychotic, but according to Langley, he and his team have been known to get things done when they can’t.”

Ryker couldn’t stop his lip from curling. “Was Callahan covering for Sykes in her report, or was she telling the truth?” he asked.

“Her job is on the line. She can’t finesse it with the Navy like she can with her superiors, so she’s telling the truth.”