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Logan answered the phone, “Mike, what’s up? I’m on my way to meet Sarah at her place for dinner. Just left a meeting in Laurel.”
“You’re in your car?” There was urgency to his question.
That isn’t good. “Yes. I’m in my car. Like I said, I’m on my way to Sarah’s. What’s going on? I can tell something’s wrong.”
“You have satellite radio in that Land Cruiser, don’t you? Turn on CNN or Fox News. It’s on every channel.”
“What is, Mike?”
“There was an explosion outside the district court in DC less than thirty minutes ago. Looks like some kind of VBIED. Multiple casualties.” Logan heard the anger and sadness in Mike’s voice. “It’s bad, Logan.”
“Jesus . . .”
“But here’s the really bad part. Brace yourself for it. Looks like the target was Cain Frost. He’s dead, Logan. We just confirmed it.”
Logan felt temporarily disoriented. He realized his heart was racing. “Hold on a sec, Mike,” he said as he slowed the SUV and pulled off to the side of the road.
Moments later, the Toyota in park, he said, “We always thought he had outside help, but we couldn’t prove it. We knew he managed to warn Juan Black before we got to the compound.”
“I know, Logan. The FBI and the Secret Service did a full investigation, which resulted in nothing. Only the president’s national security advisor and a few others even knew about it.” Mike paused. “It doesn’t matter right now. Let me tell you what does.”
I don’t like the sound of this.
“The president has ordered a task force to investigate who was behind the assassination of one of our country’s most notorious traitors. He’s furious. Like you, Logan, the president wanted Cain to pay publicly for trying to start a war.”
“Good for him, but what does this have to do with me?” Although I think I already know the answer, God help me.
“Well, as you know, my uncle Jake is now the deputy director of the entire FBI, and I have his old job as the assistant director for counterterrorism. As a result, I’m leading the task force.” Mike had been elevated to senior executive and promoted less than a month earlier.
“But I also get to choose who I want on it.”
“Mike, I told you—”
Mike cut him off. “I know what you told me after we got back. You’d testify and then you wanted nothing else to do with it. But guess what? Someone decided to take care of Cain before our courts could, and you know what that means, don’t you?”
Logan did. “It means something else is still going on, and it’s larger than just Cain and his personal army.” HRI had been disabled as a corporation weeks after Cain’s capture, its holdings seized by the government, pending the trial.
The words hung in the air. Finally, Mike said, “Exactly. And there’s something else I need to tell you.”
“I can hardly wait. What is it?”
“I reached out to John first. I figured you’d be more inclined to say ‘yes’ if I had him on board.”
“Smart bastard. What did he say?”
“What I expected. He’s in if you are, which I assume means you’re in if he is, kind of like a catch-22. So you can’t say ‘no.’ ”
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know, but you still love me. Seriously, Logan, I need you both.” Then he asked for confirmation. “So what do you say? Are you in?”
Logan watched the traffic on Route 40 speed by, jealous of the drivers who led normal lives. It amazed him how quickly events could change the course of a single life. Nothing ever turned out the way it should.
How did I come to this? he pondered.
Yet it didn’t matter. What did was that there’d been a major attack on US soil, innocent lives had been lost, and now one of his closest friends was asking him for his help.
Logan suddenly had a vision of Captain Jack Barnett on top of the Haditha Dam, in tactical overwatch at Logan’s recommendation. It’d been the right move at the time, and he’d been right to suggest it. And here was Mike, asking him to do the same thing, in a sense.
“Overwatch,” Logan said.
“Say again, Logan?” Mike asked, obviously not understanding.
“You’re asking us to go into overwatch, except it’s not tactical, it’s strategic—for the entire country,” Logan replied quietly.
A moment of silence engulfed them as Mike processed the analogy.
“That’s a good way of putting it, brother,” Mike finally said. “More importantly, are you in?”
“What do you think, Mike?” Logan said, finally.
“Good. In that case, call Sarah and reschedule dinner. Tell her I’m sorry and drive down to FBI headquarters. Security will be waiting for you.”
“Sounds good. See you shortly.”
Before Logan could hang up, Mike added, “Logan, one more thing, and I mean it. Thank you. I know how hard this is for you after everything that’s happened.”
Logan heard the appreciation in Mike’s voice and understood the strength behind the words that bound them together as friends.
“Always, Mike. It’s what brothers are for. I’ll see you soon.” And somehow, that said it all.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing this novel was unlike anything I’ve undertaken in my life. It was truly a collaborative effort, and there are countless people who deserve my utmost thanks and sincere appreciation. First, thanks to you, the reader. I wrote this story thinking of you. As a fan of this genre, I placed myself squarely in your shoes and thought, What do I really want to read? What won’t bore me to tears? I hope I’ve succeeded in answering those questions, but ultimately, you’ll be the judge of that. Enjoy the ride. Second, to Mark Cronin, my first beta reader, good friend, and mentor, who read Overwatch’s first draft, told me I had a great story on my hands, and kept encouraging me through the countless rejections, telling me, “It’s just a matter of time”: thank you. Third, to all of my other beta readers—including author Betsy Harigan—who provided edits, suggestions, and general comments: thank you. Your feedback was critical. Fourth, to my agent, Chris Frank, of Simenauer & Frank Literary Agency in Naples, Florida, without whose determination and perseverance this novel would not have been possible: a big thank you. Fifth, to my editor, Meg Reid, whose edits really make the pages hum, and the team at Emily Bestler Books: thank you. Finally, and most importantly, to Amy, my wife, partner, and mother of our two wonderful children: a huge thank you! Without your love, support, and encouragement, as well as the time you gave me amid our busy lives to embark on this adventure, none of this would be possible. Now the real journey begins.
MATTHEW BETLEY is a former Marine officer of ten years. His experience includes deployments to Djibouti after September 11, and to Iraq, prior to the surge. A New Jersey native who considers Cincinnati home, he graduated from Miami University in Oxford, Ohio, with a BA in psychology and minors in political science and sociology.
Follow him on Twitter @matthewbetley.
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Interior design by Kyoko Watanabe
Jacket design by Rodrigo Corral Design Inc
Jacket Photographs: American flag © Lisa Sullivan/
Betty Photography/Getty Images; Storm Clouds © Paul Souders/Getty Images
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-1-4767-9921-6
ISBN 978-1-4767-9924-7 (ebook)
CONTENTS
Epigraph
Part 1: First Contact
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Part 2: The Sandbox—Part One
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Part 3: Remember the Alamo
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Part 4: The Sandbox—Part Two
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Part 5: Run for the Border
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Part 6: The Sandbox 3
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Part 7: Reckoning
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About Matthew Betley
Table of Contents
Dedication
Epigraph
Part 1: First Contact
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Part 2: The Sandbox—Part One
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Part 3: Remember the Alamo
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Part 4: The Sandbox—Part Two
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Part 5: Run for the Border
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Part 6: The Sandbox 3
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Part 7: Reckoning
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About Matthew Betley
Copyright