McCrea became self-consciously aware of his own M4 rifle, which was slung across the front of his body. He slid it around his back. “I know this is startling,” he said. “But you’re really not in danger.” You’re also not coming along. He considered that last part to be news that was better broken by the mother.

“Mom!”

Victoria Emerson appeared at the top of the stairs dressed identically to her son, complete with rucksack and weapon. “Relax, Luke,” she said. “That’s Major . . .”

“McCrea, ma’am.”

“That’s Major McCrea. He’s coming with us.” As she walked down the stairs, she called over her shoulder, “Caleb! Now!”

A gangly sixteen-year-old appeared at the top of the stairs wearing a T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops. He’d be handsome one day, McCrea thought, once he grew into his hands and feet. McCrea figured the outfit to be a silent thumb in his mom’s eye.

“Caleb Morris Emerson,” she said in the tone that still inspired fear. “Put the correct clothes on and be ready to go.”

“Why? All we do is drive around and—”

She sharpened her look and he backed away.

“Okay, fine.” Caleb stormed back into his room. Coat hangers clattered against the walls again, boots thumped against the floor.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Luke asked. “You seem . . . nervous. And why is he here?”

Mrs. Emerson ignored the question, and it wasn’t McCrea’s to answer. “Is this really real?” she asked him.

“Ma’am, given your position, I imagine that you know more than I do. I have my orders, and you are them.”

Caleb arrived at the top of the stairs. This time, his clothes matched those of his mother and little brother. “Who the hell is this?”

“My name is Major McCrea. Pleased to meet you, Caleb. Ma’am, we have to leave right now.” He reached out to grab her arm and she pulled away.

“How dare you touch me,” she said.

Caleb rushed forward. “Hey, asshole, what are you—”

“Quiet, son,” McCrea said. “Ma’am, I already told you. You don’t have a say in what follows. I would love for you to follow me, but if I have to carry you, that’s what I will do.”

“You can’t talk to my mom like that,” Caleb said. “She’s a member of Congress.”

“Caleb, hush,” Victoria snapped.

“But you’re his boss!”

Mrs. Emerson held up a hand to calm her son. “Caleb, we’re going with the major.”

Luke looked as frightened as Caleb looked angry. “Mom?”

Apparently, she was really going to make McCrea do this. “Just you, ma’am. Not the boys.”

“Bullshit,” she said. “I’m not leaving them.”

“Ma’am, you know the rules. I am authorized only—”