Chapter Eighteen

Virginia Beach, Virginia

July 29, 2011

“Mack, I’m sorry,” Rear Admiral Peters said. “This is the only way we will even consider doing this for you. If you leave, you’re gone for good.”

Mack started to protest again, but Peters cut him off.

“Frankly, I wouldn’t even be considering this at all if our partners at the agency weren’t asking,” Peters continued. “I can’t believe you kept this information from us. Do you have any idea the risk you put your team in? Your daughter is related to one of the most dangerous terrorists in the world. It’s such a conflict to have you on the teams. I would have dismissed you on the spot if I had known—or locked you up. But I’m guessing you knew that.”

“I didn’t tell anyone for my daughter’s safety. It wasn’t about keeping my job,” Mack said. “Her safety is the only thing that has ever mattered to me.”

“And how’s that working out for you now? If we’re to believe the agency, Yusef Hadzic is tracking you and your daughter. And I’m truly sorry for both of you. But my job is to protect the teams, and you being part of them is just a huge safety breach for the program—not to mention the PR problems. If the press found out that one of our elite special operators is related to an international terrorist . . . it would be unbelievably damaging to our reputation.”

Mack’s chest tightened. He took a deep breath to try to remain calm. “I don’t understand why I can’t disappear until we take their organization out and then come back.”

Peters’s face remained hard. “We’ve been trying to find them for fifteen years, with absolutely no luck. If we ever find them—and that’s a huge if—then possibly we would consider you coming back. But until then, if you disappear, we’re wiping you clean—no passport, your citizenship revoked, wiped clean from naval records. We can’t put ourselves in danger because of your secret.”

Mack slowly nodded his head as he considered his choices.

“If you want to take your daughter with you, we’d consider delivering her to wherever you end up—”

Mack cut Peters off. “No. No way. She stays right where she is.”

“We can’t protect her, Mack. She’ll get death benefits, so no one suspects anything, but we can’t physically protect her. I’m sorry, but she’s not our problem.”

“I don’t need you to protect her. I’ve got that covered.”

“No active SEALs can help you with this. I’ll ask you again: Do any of your team members know who she really is?”

“And I tell you again: no. No one knows.”

“Not even Chase?”

“Chase doesn’t know,” Mack said, lying. Chase was the only person he had ever told about who Millie really was.

Peters folded his arms as he stared at Mack. “What’s it going to be, Mack? I need your decision now.”

“Let’s do it,” Mack said quietly. “I need to disappear.”

Peters stood up. “It’s going to happen on this trip to Iraq. Your agency contact will let you know the details as soon as we have them firmed up. Good luck to you, Mack.”

Mack stood up and shook Peters’s outstretched hand. “Thank you, sir.”

When Mack left the office, he saw Chase standing to the side.

“What was that all about?” Chase said.

“Some bullshit about retirement,” Mack said, avoiding Chase’s eyes.

“They trying to talk you into staying?”

Mack started walking down the hall away from the office. “Naw. I guess I’m the first of the guys on the UBL mission to retire. They were just going over what’s acceptable to say in the outside world and what’s not.”

“What’s acceptable?”

“Basically nothing. Keep your mouth shut and forget it ever happened.”