He would never forget his last conversation with his father.
“I’m going to die later today or tomorrow. I’m done. I can feel it. But I have to say this to you. I want you to make something of your life. Okay? Something good. You choose what works. Doesn’t matter. But, whatever it is, make the most of it.”
He could still feel the gentle grip of his father’s sweaty palm as they shook hands for the last time. All of the sons had been close to their father. And he’d known exactly what his dad had meant. School had never interested him, his grades barely passing. College was not in his future. So he’d enlisted right out of high school and was accepted for Army Ranger training. Sixty-one of the hardest days of his life. Not for the weak or fainthearted—that’s what it said right in the Ranger handbook. Kind of an understatement, considering the failure rate was way over 50 percent. But he’d made it, earning his lieutenant bars. Eventually he’d been deployed to some of the hottest spots on the planet, wounded twice, and received multiple commendations.
His father would have been proud.
Then he was chosen to work for the Magellan Billet, where he’d been involved in more high-stakes action.
He was now thirty years old, and the loss of his dad still hurt. What was the saying? Real men don’t cry. Bullshit. Real men bawl their eyes out, as he and his brothers had thirteen years ago when they watched the man they idolized take his last breath.
A knock at the door disturbed his thoughts.
He’d been sitting in the quiet for half an hour, shaking off jet lag, trying to re-acclimate himself to Eastern Daylight Time. He opened the door to find Stephanie Nelle. He was not aware that she knew where he lived.
“We have to talk,” she said. “May I come in?”
She stepped inside and he caught her taking in the décor.
“Not what I expected,” she said.
He prided himself on the warm look, most of which came with the unit but some of which he’d selected. Masculine, but not overly so. Wood furniture. Muted fabrics. Lots of greenery, all fake but looking real. Contrary to what people thought, he liked order.
“You were expecting a college dorm room?”
“I’m not sure. But this is lovely.”
“I like it here—the few days a month I get to enjoy it.”
She stood, arms at her sides. “You and Cotton part okay?”
“He nearly killed me. He shot Kirk right over my shoulder.”
“I doubt you were in any danger. Cotton knows how to handle a weapon.”
“Maybe so. But I was glad to be rid of the old-timer. He has a piss-poor attitude.”
“That old-timer was awarded every commendation we have, every one of which he refused.”
“Was. That’s the key word. He walked away. His time is done. And let me tell you, he didn’t like watching his girl kiss Salazar one bit. It messed him up, though he tried to hide it. But on that I can’t blame him. I did what you said, though. I aggravated him. Tried to keep him interested. Then I fed him the information about the Founding Fathers and the Constitution. Unfortunately, he didn’t take the bait and hang around.”
“He’s in Salzburg.”
That surprised him. “And you’re thinking that’s a good thing?”
“Cotton’s a pro. He’ll handle things right.”
“If you say so. I say his head isn’t screwed on for this one.”
“I just came from your uncle.”
“And how is dear Danny? I don’t think I’ve heard from him since my dad died.”
“He’s concerned.” She paused. “And I’m about to be fired.”
“Really now? What did you do?”
“Seems I’m a thief. A situation fabricated for the benefit of Thaddeus Rowan. It’s time for you to know some additional information, so listen up.”
STEPHANIE LIKED LUKE, THOUGH HE WAS A WILD SPIRIT. SHE envied that freedom. How liberating it must be to have so much life ahead of you. She’d been there once, intent on making the most of every opportunity. Some she maximized, others eluded her. She’d sat at the dining room table in the vice president’s mansion for over an hour and listened as Danny Daniels told her more of what was going on.
Thaddeus Rowan was planning a secession.
He wanted to dissolve the union and end the United States of America.
Ordinarily, that would be treated as nonsense, but Rowan had a specific plan with specific objectives, all of which—thanks to James Madison, Abraham Lincoln, and Brigham Young—might be achievable. She could not, and would not, reveal all that she knew to Luke, but she told him enough so that he could do his job.