Page 2 of Chinook Winds

“Hang on a second.” Emily Pearson, a former NSA agent, rolled her chair up next to Garrett. “I recognize the encryption software. That’s the NSA’s.”

Victor swung toward her. “This is someone from the NSA?” The truth dawned on him immediately. HD… Howard Duncan, the deputy director. “This is from Duncan.” He stared at the screen once more and couldn’t believe it. Someone from Legion’s inner circle had reached out to him. Was it a trick?

“You’re right. It has to be him.” Emily took over the quest to unravel the IP address. After a handful of seconds ticked off, she sat back and stared at the screen. “I can’t get into the system. Howard intentionally sent it from the NSA’s server, and they’ve increased their security measures immensely. What do you think he wants?”

Victor couldn’t imagine, but he didn’t trust Duncan. “He’s either desperate, or this is some maneuver to uncover our location. Either way, we can’t take any chances.”

He became aware of Kinsley standing next to him and turned. Kinsley and he had been through so much together through the years. He trusted her instincts completely. “What do you think?” As he looked into blue eyes that were as deep as an ocean, he was reminded again of how truly beautiful she was. Tough as nails, she’d almost died on the way to Strike Force headquarters after being shot by Legion. She’d had his trust for years. Kinsley would not steer him wrong.

“If this is Duncan, and he’s desperate enough to reach out to us, then something’s happened. He could be on the outs with Collins, which would explain why he’s reaching out to us. If he knows where the nuclear weapons are, we don’t have a choice. We have to talk to him.”

“And if it’s a setup?” He held her gaze. There were more than a dozen people here at the compound. He couldn’t risk putting their lives in danger.

“James has the capability to scramble our signal. If Duncan’s fishing, he won’t get anything we don’t want him to have.”

Kinsley smiled.

Despite Victor’s heavy heart, he returned it. Kinsley had the power to clear away the clutter in his head and make the answer simple. “Send him a message. Give him a number to call. I know he says he’ll only talk in person, but he’s going to have to give us something before we make another trip into enemy territory. I’m not putting my people in danger without knowing what he has.”

James typed a quick response. “I’ll give him my number.”

Victor nodded, but his attention was pulled to something on the news feed above. A picture of David Kincaid at what appeared to be some type of press conference. “Turn the volume up. I want to see what Kincaid has to say.” He indicated the screen and Jordyn Adams, another one of James’s computer geniuses, hit the sound.

“President Kincaid, what do you say to the accusations we are hearing from the group calling themselves Strike Force?” A female reporter raised the question. “They’re claiming you and several other high-powered people are the ones in charge of the bombings. The report we’re getting from the videos streaming at an untraceable address is that you and these men are being led by a man named Martin Collins, a former CIA agent who faked his own death. They claim Collins is actually General Adam Sinclair of the National Security Guard. The man you appointed to the position.”

Victor kept his attention on Kincaid’s face. He knew the man well, and he could tell the reporter’s question had infuriated him.

“I will not acknowledge any claims made from terrorists. The men and women of this Strike Force are criminals responsible for taking thousands of lives. They will be captured, mark my words, and they will pay for their crimes. It’s only a matter of time.” Kincaid pointed to another reporter, but the woman was persistent.

“But they are claiming you andGeneral Sinclair are the true criminals, and they have posted some interesting proof that have many questioning what is really happening and who the real terrorists are.”

Kincaid’s gaze bored into the reporter. “If you choose to believe lies, that’s up to you, but I’ve answered your question. This press conference is over.” Before the reporter could respond, Kincaid whipped around and practically walked over several of his people to leave the room.

“Well, that was interesting,” Ben Parker, one of the founding members of Strike Force, said.

“He’s getting nervous. Some of his Texas charm is slipping.” Victor watched the reporters milling around the room. They appeared stunned by the press conference’s sudden conclusion. “When was the last time we had eyes on General Sinclair, aka, Martin Collins?”

As a former CIA agent, Collins and the men on his team had all faked their deaths. According to one member of Collins’ team, they didn’t have a voice in the decision. Collins was in firm control. He’d hooked up with Ahmad Hassanzai, a relative of the Afghan royal family, around ten years earlier. Together with several other high-ranking members of the US government and international leaders, they’d formed Legion.

Jordyn scanned through recent news feeds. “From what I can tell, there’s been no sighting of Collins in a while.”

The man’s absence on the national scene was troubling in Victor’s opinion. “See if you can track down Hassanzai’s whereabouts.”

“I’m on it.” Jordyn nodded as her fingers flew over the keyboard.

“What are you thinking?” Kinsley voiced the question with a look of concern on her face.

“Not sure. It’s just a thought, but the nuclear weapons are missing, and no one’s seen Collins in a bit.”

“You think Hassanzai was involved in their disappearance? If so, they’re probably out of the country by now. My guess would be somewhere in Afghanistan.” Kinsley’s frown deepened. “And if they are, we may never know their exact location.”

“Until they decide to use them,” Ben supplied.

Victor blew out a troubled sigh. “We can’t wait for that. If Legion’s leaders are becoming desperate, there’s no telling what they’ll do to try to keep control.” He had to do something to stop that before it happened.

Hiding out in Canada wasn’t an option any longer. His country needed him, and he was determined to get back in the fight. There were men and women serving on the front lines who were supporters. They were risking their lives to get him back in power.

While his thoughts flew in a dozen different directions, somewhere in the room a cell phone rang. “It’s mine,” James said and picked up the phone. “The number’s blocked.”

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