It seemed unlikely that someone who had the ability to dig so deep into the Agency’s mainframe would send a bunch of locals to ambush Ward and Chism. They’d use the same kind of top private talent that Rapp was.

“No way. A lot of them look like they’re in their teens. Some may be even younger.”

“ETA?”

“About six minutes.”

Rapp strode across the hangar using night vision gear that could barely collect enough light to navigate by. Various pieces of equipment had been brought in and placed strategically around the building. None of it served any purpose other than to provide cover for his men, but to the casual observer it would look like it belonged. The incursion point was easy to anticipate since the hangar only had entrances on the north side—the main bay doors and a single smaller door for pedestrian traffic.

“Levi. Get our support choppers in the air. Have them hang back, though. We don’t want to spook these assholes.”

“Roger that,” he said as Rapp continued to make a quick circuit of the building. Everyone was in their designated position. All pros ready to rock. He patched into the main comm.

“To reiterate our mission: we are capturing these men. Not killing them. Unless your life is in imminent danger, you are not to use lethal force. If anyone isn’t clear on that, speak up.”

Silence from the men in the hangar with him, but then the voice of one of his scouts came on.

“This is Exterior Two. We have one truck slowing. My guess is that they’ll set up along the tree line to provide cover for the incursion team.”

“Can you handle them?” Rapp said.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll tuck in behind them and wait until the fireworks start.”

“Copy that. Let me know if you run into any issues.”

Rapp stopped at the front of the main hangar doors and examined their hazy green image in his monocular. It would be impossible to get through without explosives, which would create obvious damage that the force coming in couldn’t tolerate. The smaller door would be the target. It wasn’t as heavy, and any damage done breaching it would be easy to obscure.

Kennedy’s gut had proved accurate once again. Whoever had accessed Nicholas Ward’s CIA file clearly wasn’t after a few stock tips. They wanted it all.

Rapp crouched to perform a final check on four small devices strategically placed near the door. They were additional prototypes of the Taser bomb that had dropped him and Coleman’s team at their training session a few weeks ago.