Brewer said, “If you don’t want him involved in this hunt, that’s one thing. But if Violator has a beef with the Agency, that beef is likely to include his former case officer, especially if he’s targeted him in the past. We surely need to give Hanley a heads-up that his rogue operative is on the loose in the area.”

Carmichael seemed to acquiesce a little. “We’ll put security on Hanley, watching his house, just to keep him safe. But let’s keep it low-key. Don’t tell Hanley.”

Brewer dropped the subject and went back to her request for information from others who knew Gentry. “Who else worked with him? What about other members of his task force?”

The CIA liaison to JSOC said, “All dead. Gentry killed them.”

Mayes and Carmichael exchanged another look. The liaison caught it, and he cocked his head. “What?”

Carmichael said, “Not exactly true. One man survived.”

Mayes picked it up from there. “The team leader of Task Force Golf Sierra, Zachary Hightower, is not dead.” With a shrug he said, “He might as well be. Denny shit-canned him after he botched an attempt to snatch Gentry in Africa.”

Brewer said, “It stands to reason his team leader would know a great deal about his operational abilities. Do we know where he is?”

Mayes said, “No idea, but I’m sure he can be located.”

Carmichael held up a finger. “I want to see him first, face-to-face, to evaluate what I’m working with. He was injured severely in Africa, then he was drummed out of the Agency. If he’s like a lot of operators he’ll be bitter, and a shell of the man he was when he worked for us.”

Brewer nodded and made notes on her pad.

She started to switch the conversation to Carmichael’s immediate physical security, but one of the communications technicians outside the room knocked on the glass wall and stepped to the door. Mayes pressed a button, and the door unlocked with a click.

Mayes asked, “What is it?”

“We picked something up on the scanner. PD reports a homicide in Washington Highlands. Home invasion, multiple fatalities.”

Carmichael picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. “Sounds like any other Saturday night over there.”

“A surviving victim reports a lone Caucasian assailant. Apparently he took down a house full of heavily armed Aryan Brotherhood drug dealers. Two dead, four wounded.”

“When?”

“Less than thirty minutes ago.”

“One guy did it?” Carmichael asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Carmichael and Mayes nodded at each other, and Brewer picked up what her superiors were thinking.

She asked, “Why would Violator attack a house full of meth dealers?”

Carmichael said immediately, “Maybe he needs something.”

“He needs meth?”

Mayes answered with confidence. “Resources. Arms and financing. No better place to get both if you don’t mind a fight.”