Nathan sat at his desk finishing a conversation on the satellite phone. His best friend, Miller “Tox” Buchanan, sat sprawled on the couch. He had earned his call sign on his SEAL team, because, where most people liked to detox after a wild night, Miller liked to, as he put it, “retox.” Of course, at six-feet, five-inches and 280 pounds, it took more than a couple of beers to intoxicate him in the first place, adding to his rep. Despite his size, reputation, and general demeanor, Tox was a gentle soul. The only person who ever seemed to get hurt in encounters with Tox was Tox. Andrew “Chat” Dunlap sat in the chair to his right, reading an article from a Spanish language news site on his tablet. His caramel complexion was unlined and his mocha eyes were placid. Nathan “North” Bishop ended the call and turned to the men.
Working in Naval Intelligence, Nathan considered these men his brothers. While he hadn’t been a SEAL, he was integral in many of their ops, once leading them out of a labyrinth of Afghan caves better than any compass or tech, earning him his call sign “North.”
“Harris and Steady handled the extraction. A certain Thai prison official can now afford a beach house in Phuket, but the boys are headed back to Duke after learning a valuable lesson about the dangers of doing drugs.”
“Or at least the dangers of crossing borders with drugs in your carry-on bag. Idiots.” Tox rolled his eyes. Chat chuckled.
North continued, “I’m keeping my eye on the pro-democracy protests in Hong Kong. Some Americans have been detained. Also, the British activist Toshi Peele is making noise about joining in, and the Chinese government has already promised to arrest her.”
“Copy that.” Tox stretched his massive frame and re-sprawled. “How’s your lady friend?”
“Fine. Nothing to report there.”
Chat looked up from his tablet and nailed Nathan with an assessing gaze.
“What?”
Chat quirked a brow.
Nathan sighed, “Well, I can see you’re not going to let this go. I met with her last night. Cocked it up six ways to Sunday. She was here today.” He swung the first ball on the Newton’s Cradle on his desk. The clacking filled the silence. “She clearly wants more than the fluff piece I was expecting. She’s... probing.”
“Aww, and you wanted to be the one doing the probing,” Tox smirked. Chat pointed at him with a you-got-that-right nod.
“Ever since she interrupted that meeting—Jesus, was it two years ago? I’ve just... I don’t know, wanted to see her again.”
“Get your fucking tie back. I hate it when women steal my clothes.”
“You rescued her. You feel responsible for her. It’s not uncommon.” Chat shared his insight without looking up from his tablet.
“It feels uncommon.”
“Twitch checked her out, right?” Tox asked. Their computer whiz kid could find out where someone lost their first set of keys. The youngest and most talented of the group, Twitch sported Coke bottle glasses and a long red ponytail that the guys routinely threatened to cut off. She hadn’t been in the military, and her surprisingly optimistic outlook on life was a breath of fresh air.
“Of course. No red flags. A couple of speeding tickets. Arrested, but not charged, at an animal rights protest in college. Clean, but not squeaky clean.” A squeaky-clean background was a red flag in itself.
Tox stood, grabbed a handful of Skittles from a bowl on the table and walked to the door. “I’m free for hair braiding and a tickle fight later, but right now I need to check in with our resident hacker—sorry—programmer. Little matter of national security.”
“Let me know what Twitch scares up. I spoke with Cerberus. So far there’s just a lot of rumor and speculation. All we know at this point is that something was recovered in China that has every terrorist with a bank balance licking their chops.”
“Twitch discovered a dark auction site called River Styx. Heavily encrypted. She’s trying to find an ‘in’ that doesn’t tip them off.”
Nathan gave a dark chuckle. “It’s like the virtual version of the guys selling knockoffs on Canal Street. Cops come by, the vendors shut the stand down and open it back up half a block away.”
“I’ll keep you updated.”
“All right. God, all of a sudden I hate those two words.”
Chat looked up from gathering his things, then headed out without comment. Tox turned before following him out the door.
“When the dust settles on this, I want Twitch to do a deep dive on Emma Porter. Something just feels off.”
“Come on, Tox. A two-year-long set up is an elaborate con, don’t you think?”
“Maybe, but there’s no harm in checking.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“You good?”
“Yeah.” But as Tox pulled the door closed with a quiet snick, Nathan wondered what it was about Emma Porter that was so unsettling.