Page 4 of Protecting Olivia

Gerald and Aaron took point, breaching the front door first, followed by Garrett and the Attorney General. Tom was close behind them, his sidearm still at the ready. Zane had his six, his own firearm drawn. I pulled up the back.

“Come on back,” a voice called out in a thick southern accent from behind the old school swinging diner doors that led to the kitchen.

A man I assumed was Tex stood from a makeshift workstation when we entered, five guns pointing in his direction. “Still an over-cautious SOB, I see.”

“Trust but verify, old friend. Are we secure?” Z asked.

I scanned the room and noted the large topographical map on the stainless-steel chef’s station, and three of the five monitors had intel reports and maps on their screens. The other two were surveillance footage of both the outside of the diner and the airstrip where we landed.

“We are,” Tex answered. “Thanks for making the trip down here. Sorry for the trouble, but there are some things I will not discuss even over the most secure line.” Tex stood up a little straighter and squared his shoulders, blatantly noticing the President was in the room. “Mr. President.”

“John Keegan. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, I have heard a lot about you. And, it’s Tom, please.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that is going to happen, sir,” Tex chuckled.

“I really wish all of you would learn to call me Tom when we’re in private.” The President sighed. I couldn’t help but crack a smile. I could still remember the first time the President scolded me and demanded I call him Tom, instead of Mr. President. I thought it was a joke. No one in their right mind would call the POTUS by his first name. But sure as shit, that’s what Tom wanted to be called.

“Tex, this is Panther.” Z pointed to me and continued with the introductions. “Gerald and Aaron, Tom’s detail. Garrett, my in-house intel specialist, and the AG, Peter Newton.”

Tex gave a chin lift in response. He glanced around the room, his eyes taking each of us in. No doubt sizing us up. Once a SEAL always a SEAL. Just because a man leaves the teams doesn’t mean his training goes away. We all may be on the same side, but a man can never be too careful.

“Now that introductions have been made, whatcha got for us?” Z asked.

Unfortunately, Garrett’s in-flight search came up with nothing. We were all interested in what Tex had found.

I studied the map on the table and noted the Potomac River was to the West, the Chesapeake Bay to the East, and sandwiched between the two bodies of water was Scotland, Maryland, approximately eighty miles south of Annapolis. However, nothing on the map indicated an exact location.

“I actually stumbled on something by accident. I was in a chat room looking into an information broker when there was chatter about Pamela Cox and her daughter Olivia. After Zane put out on the wire that Olivia was missing, I’ve been keeping an eye out.”

“When was this?” I asked.

“A few hours ago,” Tex answered. “I would normally call it in and continue to track, but there was also chatter about the First Lady.”

“What about my Rissa?” Tom growled.

“Private emails between her and Pamela Cox were hacked,” Tex explained.

“The fuck you say?” Z exploded. “Garrett find the hole.”

“I already did. It was an inside job. It came from an analyst at the CIA, Timothy Clark,” Tex continued.

“Did he leave a footprint?” Garrett asked.

“Langley,” Tex answered.

Garrett was feverishly pounding on his now open laptop, his brows pulled together in concentration. He had been looking for Timothy Clark since our last op, but he was in the wind.

“Clark is no longer with the CIA; he is rogue. We eliminated his brother,” Z informed Tex.

“I heard about that. Nightstalker has quite the reputation; her work is exceptional. You’ve trained her well. It’s a shame that Deepweb336 couldn’t be converted.” Tex was referring to our last mission. Jasmin Parker, the only woman on our team, had assassinated a hacker that went by the handle Deepweb336. “He was a hell of a hacker. The CIA could’ve used his skills. Too bad he was a piece of shit and sold out his country. His brother is almost as good as him. But he’s sloppy. He left breadcrumbs. And one more thing – he was on a CIA network when he hacked the emails. If you’re telling me Clark no longer works there, you have another mole.”

“I want him found, Zane! And the emails?” Tom asked.

“They were personal in nature, sir.”

“How personal?”

“Personal on Pamela’s end. She was asking the First Lady for advice,” Tex answered.