“Answers. Just answers. He wanted to know what he did to initiate the SOS. I told him what I knew. That he waxed the wrong target on an op and then killed his team when they tried to detain him. He said he didn’t fuck up, and his team fired first.”

Carmichael shook his head. “He knows what happened. He’s here trying to get intel on the executives involved in his hunt. He’ll target us, one by one, to exact his revenge.”

Hanley asked, “How long has he been here?”

“Less than thirty-six hours. I’m confident we’ll have him in hand soon enough. We have control of the situation.”

“Undoubtedly,” replied Hanley. “And by ‘control’ you mean Gentry is allowed to wander the city freely with a gun in his hand while he targets the homes of Agency employees. What’s the game plan, Denny? You just trying to lull him into a false sense of security before you drop the cage down over him?”

Carmichael rolled his eyes. “He was your man when he went off reservation.”

“And it was because of your order that he went off rez!”

Travers looked back and forth between the two men, his mouth shut tightly. Like most CIA officers he was good at keeping secrets, but he couldn’t fucking wait to tell the other guys on his team about standing up here in Carmichael’s office watching the old man and Hanley duke it out.

Jordan Mayes entered the room now, and Carmichael filled him in. As soon as he finished, Mayes turned to the younger paramilitary officer. “Travers, when you leave here I want you to go find Suzanne Brewer. Tell her every last detail.”

Hanley was confused. “What does Brewer have to do with Gentry?”

Mayes replied, “She’s running the TOC.”

Hanley sighed. “Brewer from Programs and Plans knows all about this, but the director of the Special Activities Division does not? Why is that, Denny? Why am I not involved? If Gentry is a legitimate danger, then why wasn’t I told?”

“Calm down, you’ve been protected.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’ve had a team of operatives watching your house.”

“Without my knowledge?”

Carmichael just shrugged. “I’ve had a lot on my plate. I was getting to it.”

“What operatives? You can’t task my guys without informing me.”

“They aren’t your guys.” Carmichael hesitated. “They are part of a special mission unit from JSOC.”

Hanley looked like he’d been poleaxed. He leaned all the way back in his chair. In a nearly hoarse voice he said, “What in the name of God are you doing?”

“I wasn’t planning on using SAD. I have sanction to pull certain military assets from—”