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“I’m not tied to the state, so a call from him wouldn’t impact me in any way.”

“How about a call from the vice president? Would that change your mind, Marshal?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, but continued. “Gentlemen, since Black’s death, the highest levels of the government have been engaged. Lunceford is considered by everyone to be our greatest domestic threat.”

“So what do you have for us?” Dylan asked.

Jason liked his get-to-the-point attitude, always cutting through the crap.

She reached in her briefcase and pulled out several devices. “These are for you. They’re highly classified and the latest and greatest to come out of Langley.” She handed each of them one.

“What are they?” Jason asked.

“Their technical name is Reconnaissance Oscillating Communication Seven Series, but we call them ROCs.”

“Looks more like a cell phone to me,” he said.

“That’s intentional, but ROCs are much more than that. These are for the others on the team.” She placed four more on his desk, keeping one for herself.

“Others?” Corey asked.

“MacCabe, Dixon, Taylor, and the sheriff’s deputy, Coleman.” Brown looked down at the screen of her tablet. “When you log on, your initial password is your birth year followed by the name of our team, Shannon’s Eight.”

“Why that name?” Jason asked, knowing Brown had never met her.

“Ms. Day died the same time as Black in the line of duty. Destiny’s loss is the Agency’s loss, too.”

“That’s fitting.” Corey nodded.

Jason punched in the temporary password and was sent to a prompt to set a new one. “This seems pretty basic, Brown.”

“Keep going, Sheriff,” she instructed.

Five minutes and several high-tech levels later, including Jason having to place his thumb on the screen for a fingerprint verification, the ROC’s contents were finally on its screen.

Brown continued, “As you can see by file zero-one-six-zebra, Mitrofanov has moved the five million into diamonds. His second cousin is a top-tier fence, so it wasn’t difficult for him to do.”

“Makes sense.” Dylan’s eyes remained on his own ROC. “Transporting gems is much easier than currency.”

She nodded. “The Agency had blocked all the avenues to move the monies electronically.”

Jason wanted to catch Mitrofanov and put an end to all the crap that had rained down in Destiny. My town to protect. “Where are the diamonds now?”

“Somewhere in the Midwest,” she answered. “Word on the street is Mitrofanov owes the Chicago mafia a bundle.”

“The Outfit doesn’t take kindly to debtors.” Corey looked up from his device that Brown had given him. “Niklaus better pay up or they will put the fat fuck in the grave.”

“Glad to have you on the team, Marshal,” Brown said, vocalizing Jason’s sentiments exactly. “I’ve got eyes and ears on all of Mitrofanov’s old gang. No sign of him yet, but once Niklaus pops his head out anywhere, I’ll know it.”

Jason looked up from his ROC. “Can Lunceford and Mitrofanov’s connection to the laptop Black retrieved from Russia help us find both fuckers?”

“My guys back

at Langley found more on the device. There was an e-mail exchange we recovered buried deep in the cookies. Took some of our best to put it back together into something we could use.”

“And?” Dylan asked.

“Mitrofanov stiffed Lunceford,” she answered. “Niklaus was supposed to turn over half the money to Kip, but he never did. The last message from Lunceford to Mitrofanov was he was coming to collect what he was due.”

Jason smiled, impressed by Brown’s skills. “So, if we find Mitrofanov or the money—we find Kip Lunceford, our primary target.”

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