Buchanan nodded. “It’s the president’s own version of you three—an elite unit, accountable to no one but the man in charge. Four of the best every branch of the military has to offer, trained to think outside the box and approach situations and carry out missions no one else can… or would be allowed to. I think tracking down our shooter is the perfect job for them.”
Julie shrugged. “Okay. When do we link up with them?”
“In two days.” He looked over at Jericho. “You need to play nice. Am I clear?”
Jericho frowned. “What makes you think I wouldn’t? This Orion thing is about as big as it gets, right? I’ll do what you need me to do, Boss. Come on…”
Buchanan sighed. He cast another glance at Collins, who was trying to hide a knowing smile.
“I know,” he said to Jericho. “I only say that because I haven’t told you who’s heading up the project yet.”
“What do you mean? Why does that matter?”
Collins stepped toward him. “Let me tell ya, Jerry. I’ve seen these guys up close. They have some serious talent. Plus, the benefits of a presidential endorsement and everything that comes with it. We’re gonna need their help if we’re gonna stop Orion the right way. That Jay… man, she’s a real badass. Took me and Jules out on her own. If Orion gets word we’re onto them, ya best believe they’ll send their pet killer after us, ya know? These Blackstar folks can handle that for us, which leaves us to do the investigating like only we can.”
Jericho shrugged, switching his confused expression between Collins and Buchanan. “I get that, obviously. Why is it such a big deal? I have no problem working with another team, and honestly, I resent the hell out of the fact that you seem to think otherwise. Why would I care who the president picked to spearhead this thing?”
Buchanan smiled at Collins, then looked at Jericho.
“Maybe you should sit down,” he said. “You’re not going to like this.”
The End
Acknowledgments
This book is my first release of 2021, and I feel I’ve definitely started the year strong. I’ve always said each new book I write improves in some way on the one that came before it, but that’s never felt as accurate to me as it has these last twelve months.
2020 was a challenging year for everyone. Yet, despite everything, I produced what I considered my best work over and again, and I feel 2021 is continuing the trend.
There’s a difference between writing and storytelling. I consider myself a talented storyteller, but the craft of writing is a different beast, and I’m continually learning and improving at it.
The difference between me now and me in 2013, when I first started writing, is night and day. I honestly put that down to the influence of one person.
In 2018, I met my editor, Coral. She has since worked on (and re-visited) everything I’ve ever written, making each book the best it can be. She makes me a better writer and polishes every story I tell to make sure it realizes its full potential.
But she’s much more to me than just an editor.
In 2020, despite a pandemic and an ocean between us, we fell in love. We became a team in more ways than one. We have gotten through these crazy times by keeping each other (in)sane and positive. She’s helped me find my renewed love of writing and motivation to write, and she’s honestly brought out the best in me on and off the page.
She won’t ever take credit for any of this, but I want to take this opportunity to make sure everyone knows just how important she is to me. This book is for her.
I also want to take a moment to thank my readers for their ongoing support. Each and every one of you is the reason this is all possible, and I’m forever grateful. I’ll do you all a deal—you keep reading, I’ll keep writing.
Epilogue #1
The boardroom was silent. Three people sat along either side of a mahogany table, anxiously looking on as Quincy Hall paced back and forth at the head of it. His hands were clasped behind his back, his cigar clamped between two fingers. His firm expression and focused scowl gave nothing away except a clear and obvious discontent.
His meeting with the head of GlobaTech hadn’t gone as he had anticipated. While the strategy to manage the Paluga crisis had worked flawlessly to a point, that, too, had not ended as he had hoped.
It was a minor setback but one that still could not be ignored.
“Quincy, we have him waiting on video call,” said one of the men seated around the table.
Hall snapped his icy stare toward him. “Then he will wait!”
The man, one of the youngest members of the Orion International board of directors, fell silent as the color drained from his face.
The board looked on expectantly. Hall ignored them. They would wait for his decision too.
Finally, he stopped in front of his seat and leaned forward on the polished surface of the table. Ash from his cigar sprinkled down on it.
“Paluga was obviously a disappointment,” he stated. “It was a near-perfect opportunity to bury those arrogant sonsofbitches at GlobaTech once and for all, and we fell at the final hurdle. Would anyone care to explain to me how that happened?”
He was met with silence. The other members of the board knew that wasn’t a question that required an answer. No explanation would be sufficient. No excuses would be acceptable. Nothing good would come from responding.
Hall looked at each of them individually before continuing.
“Fate gave us that opportunity,” he continued. “And fate saw fit to take it away from us. It was the best chance we had, but it will not be the only one we get.”
There was a murmur of agreement around the table. The lone woman on the board leaned forward, looking at Hall.
“What will we do about Paluga now that we cannot exert any influence over its government?” she asked. “Are we not exposed?”
Hall stared at her. “What government? That place is nothing more than a landfill right now. But no matter. While it had strategic value, its loss is of no real concern to us. We simply need to step up our plans. Is the first phase ready?”
The woman gestured to the screen mounted on the wall facing the table, opposite Hall. “That’s what he’s waiting to report.”
Hall waved his hand dismissively. “Put him on.”
Another board member reached for a remote and pressed a button. An image of Brandon Crow filled the screen.
Hall glared at him. He still held him in contempt following his mismanagement of the New York siege.
“Well?” he asked.
Crow appeared flustered. His face still showed faint traces of bruising and injury. “We’re almost at full strength. Another seventy-two hours and everything will be in place.”
“Show me.”
Crow stepped to the side, revealing a large aircraft hangar sprawling away behind him. In the distance, huge doors stood open, with the faded outline of mountains cast against a bright sky beyond. The size of the facility was barely comprehensible; its proportions were only calculable because of what it contained.
Looking down through the camera, soldiers were lined up almost wall-to-wall. Thousands upon thousands of men, surrounded by vehicles and helicopters, were uniformed and organized and armed.
Crow cleared his throat. “As you can see, sir, Tristar’s forces are in place. The other sites are almost ready too.”
Hall’s expression didn’t change. He simply nodded.
“Good. You’ve done well, Brandon.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“This almost makes up for how many times you dropped the ball over the last couple of weeks.”
Crow swallowed hard and said nothing.
“I’ll be in touch.” He nodded at his colleague, who clicked the screen off. He then stood straight and began to pace around the table. “GlobaTech’s recovery in Paluga will not happen again, even with Schultz’s support. The U.S. government is nothing but a slave to the media we control. Our organization has spent decades preparing for this m
oment. This country doesn’t have the manpower, the technology, or the intelligence to stop what’s about to happen. The people have grown weak and complacent.”
One of the board members reluctantly raised his hand. Hall shot him a glance.
The man took a shaky breath. “Won’t the president order military support?”
Hall rolled his eyes and scoffed. “It wouldn’t do them any good if he did. But he won’t. As with everything nowadays, politics and public relations get in the way of action, and we are masters of both. The future of warfare is psychological, not physical. It’s evolved into little more than a business transaction. And we’re masters of those too.”
The man nodded. “And… what about GlobaTech? Surely, they will intervene?”
Hall stopped pacing and locked eyes with the board member.
“I’m counting on it.”
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Epilogue #2
The man picked up the ringing desk phone and held the receiver to his ear. The voice that spoke to him was calm and measured, but its tone was laced with urgency.
“It’s me,” said Buchanan. “I need to call in one of those favors you owe me.”
The man looked around the room, observing the four people who were watching him expectantly.
“I was wondering when you were gonna call,” said Adrian Hell, smiling. “What do you need?”
The series will continue…
COMING SOON
This book is also part of the Thrillerverse.
Click HERE to learn more.
Danger Close Page 24
