He started to pray—thanking God for their victory, for Sarah Beth and Corbin, for Rachel and David, for Eli and Johnny . . . for those who didn’t make it . . . and for Maria and . . .

He couldn’t remember the gate guard’s name.

It’s okay. I know your Shepherd’s heart.

Unburdened and unafraid, Jed let the darkness engulf him like a warm blanket, hoping that it was the voice of God in his head and not the ketamine talking.

CHAPTER
TWO

HOT TUNA BAR AND GRILL

2817 SHORE DRIVE

VIRGINIA BEACH, VIRGINIA

WEDNESDAY, 1700 HOURS LOCAL

Navy SEAL Senior Chief Jedidiah Johnson loosened the tie on his dress blue uniform and slid onto a barstool. He raised a hand to the girl behind the bar.

“Hey, Jed,” she said and pulled a Corona from the cooler. She slid it to him across the counter. He caught it and then licked some spilled suds off the back of his hand. “Big day, right?” the girl said with a wink and a smile—the same pretty smile that earned her thousands in tips and hundreds of unsolicited phone numbers scribbled on cocktail napkins from the legion of Navy SEALs who called this bar their home away from home.

“Yeah,” Jed said. “Big day.” He took a long pull on his beer and looked around the bar. In minutes, the joint would be swelling with his teammates—former teammates, actually. He would have to get used to the word former: former teammate, former Navy SEAL, former senior chief. He sighed and smiled at the bartender. “Whaddaya say we get out of here? Run away to the Caribbean and drink Coronas on a real beach.”

“Nuh-uh. No way, Jed,” she laughed. “You’re not getting out of this one. I promised the boys I’d lock the doors if I had to.”