“Don’t believe the man asked for specifics,” Van pointed out.
“Fair enough.” Webb looked back to Logan. “In short, no. And as long as the CIA can keep the group under their watchful eyes, that won’t change.”
“So hypothetically,” Chase joined in. “If something does come up…something like, say, the threat of an imminent attack on U.S. soil, for example, you’d—”
“I’d make sure everyone I cared about was safe.” Webb’s expression was serious. “In a hypothetical situation like the one you just described, that is.”
“Welp, boys.” Van scoffed. “Looks like we’re screwed.”
“Van.” Logan’s admonishment was sharp.
But Webb simply lifted a palm and grinned. “It’s okay, Hayes.” To Van, he said, “You’ve made your feelings toward me very clear, Donovan. I know you blame me for what happened to Hunt and your team. So let me make something clear to you.” He leaned in closer to his computer’s camera. “I did everything in my power to save your careers. But the president was putting pressure on SECDEF to make sure someone paid for Hunt’s death, so—”
“His death is on the bastards who ambushed us,” Chase growled.
“You’re wrong.”
Every gaze in the room turned to Van whose expression was cold as ice. “Hunt’s death is on the bastards who gave those sons of bitches a heads-up.” His Adam’s apple worked with a hard swallow, his brown-black eyes burning into the massive screen on the soundproofed wall he faced. “The only way Jamal Hassan Muhammad’s men could have known we’d be on that Godforsaken mountain was if someone told them we were coming.”
Muhammad was the Taliban’s top division commander. The asshole was responsible for thousands of lives lost, so when higher-ups in the U.S. government received intel that he’d been seen in Kandahar, Secretary Webb had sent in his best team.
Later, before they’d really even had time to grieve the loss of their brother, that same team—Lucky’s team—was given a choice. Either take early retirement with full benefits and an honorable discharge or be given a guaranteed dishonorable and likely face a trumped-up, bullshit court martial. Because, as Webb has said, the president wanted someone’s head on a platter.
Guess five heads are better than one.
“You’re absolutely right.” Secretary Webb acknowledged Van’s comment. “Which is why I’ve continued doing everything in my power to get to the truth about who was behind the attack on your team.” He ran a frustrated hand through his thick, silver hair and sighed. “The truth is, until now, we haven’t had any sort of viable lead.”
“I want to talk to this Akimi guy,” Logan announced. Glancing around the table, he went on to say, “You set it up. Just name the date and time, and we’ll be here.”
“I anticipated…and respect…your desire to speak to him, yourselves. That’s why I’ve already instructed his handler to make sure it happens.”
“Sooner the better,” Van rumbled low.
“Don’t worry, gentlemen. I’ll reach back out the second I hear back from the Agency. Until then…I’ve heard a lot of good things about Eagle’s Nest Securities. Sounds like you’re really making a name for yourselves out there.”
“Business is keeping steady.” Logan nodded humbly.
Steady, my ass.
They’d been so busy lately that Lucky was beginning to think they should’ve installed one of those revolving doors at the entrance to their office.
“Well, keep up the good work. I’m…” Webb paused briefly before adding, “I’m damn proud of you boys. And yes, Braddock. I’m including you in that, too.”
Whether Van liked it or not, apparently.
Lucky slid a hidden glance in the big guy’s direction. From the look on Van’s face, he didnotlike it. Nor did he care for the man on the screen.
A heaviness fell over him, his throat tightening as he looked away from his haunted friend. Maybe, once they found the actual person or persons behind the attack on their team, the stoic bastard would realize Webb wasn’t the enemy.
“I’ll set up the meeting with Akimi.” Webb’s commanding voice tore through Lucky’s thoughts. “You should hear back from me within the next few days.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Logan offered a respectful nod.
A second later, the screen went black, and the video conference was over.
“Well, that was unexpected.” Chase leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over the layer of brown scruff covering his jaw.
“Definitely not how I expected to start my day,” Archer agreed. “I just hope like hell this Akimi guy has more to offer up than a tiny blip of a conversation.”