“Killed two drug dealers in the slums, apparently to obtain money to finance his activities here.”

“Only two?” Zack quipped. The execs stared back at him, so he went on the defensive. “Look, if you think I knew about this, then you—”

Carmichael interrupted. “Any idea why he might have come here?”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“This isn’t the fucking navy, Hightower.”

Zack shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “He’s come here to kill you.”

It was silent in the dark conference room for a moment, and Hightower worried he might have overstepped his bounds. Then Mayes said, “That’s our assessment, as well.”

Hightower nodded slowly and a smile grew. Suddenly it felt like all his problems had just melted away. The past two years of his life, the depression born out of being ostracized by the Agency after failing a mission, disappeared. He had a job, a purpose. The old Zack was back.

With a wide grin he said, “I get it. I get why I’m here. You need me to stop him.”

Carmichael sniffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You didn’t stop him last time out, did you?”

The cocky smile remained. “Sir, that op you sent me on in Sudan was as wrong as dick cancer, and you know it.”

Denny Carmichael did not reply to this. After a moment he said, “We brought you in to see if you could help us determine where Gentry might be, what he might do. Tactics and the like.”

“Damn straight. Nobody knows him like I do.”

After a gentle rapping on the side door a woman in a conservative blue outfit entered. Zack’s first impression was that she was hot. Not stripper hot, he told himself, but hot in sort of a sexy librarian kind of way.

She walked up to Hightower, who fought the urge to look her up and down. Instead he stood up, and she extended her hand.

Jordan Mayes made the introductions. “Hightower, this is Suzanne Brewer. She is the officer in charge of the Violator tactical operations center. As long as Gentry is in this area of operations, she is tasked with finding him. We’d like you to spend some time telling her everything you know about the man—his tactics, techniques, and procedures. Together you can fine-tune the hunt so the shooters know where to go.”

Zack was disappointed. A minute earlier he would have been happy plunging the toilets here at CIA, but now he wanted in on the hunt itself. “Who are your shooters? Ground Branch?” he asked.

“Negative. We are using JSOC,” Carmichael said. “They are already out on the streets. Until we have a positive sighting of him, we won’t have anything more than what you and Suzanne can develop.”

“Why not Ground Branch?”

“We are keeping Matt Hanley out of this for now.”