“Nice work,” she said, returning his hug. The hug was strong and genuine. Sharing deadly secrets and living with the threat of annihilation made for strong friendships, and over the last few months the four of them had started to think of each other as family.

“Am I the first to arrive?” she asked, and he nodded. “Well, let’s get back in the van and you can tell me why you’ve summoned us all.” They both climbed back in, Ayala sliding over into the passenger seat.

“You’ll have to excuse the lack of chairs,” he shrugged, indicating the open flatbed behind them.

“Not at all,” she said thoughtfully, and then smiled, “there are two very comfortable chairs I can see, so you and I will be just fine.”

He chuckled. Then, just as Neal was starting to explain why he had called the meeting, another car approached, this one clearly a government van, black with darkened windows.

Ayala went quiet, tensing almost imperceptibly, catlike.

When the car pulled up alongside, they saw Barrett’s unflinching visage through the driver’s window, but two men they did not recognize were in the car with him. After the three had shuffled into the back of the van leaving the locked government SUV to wait for their return, Barrett made brief introductions. They all greeted each other somewhat reservedly, and then an awkward silence fell while they waited for the final member of the team. Fifteen minutes later, Madeline walked out of the mall elevator dressed like a college undergrad. They did not even recognize her till she approached the van and took off her huge sunglasses. It was disturbing how effectively she had disguised herself, not least of which to Neal, because of how much he had been admiring her figure as she walked up.

* * *

It was a three-hour drive to the airfield. The group was hesitant to talk at first because of the two new men the colonel had brought along. But soon their trust for Barrett’s judgment, and the obvious fact that the men already knew a lot of key information, allowed the group to relax their guards a little.

By the time they approached the small private airfield, they had all gotten to know each other fairly well, but the anticipation of meeting the mysterious John Hunt silenced the group once again as Neal pulled up to the main gate.

“Hi,” he said to the attendant there, producing one of his fake driver’s licenses from his pocket, “my name is Mark Jones, I’m meeting a friend here.”

“Yes, Mr. Jones, I have you on the list.” the guard nodded, after checking a handwritten sheet on his clipboard. He walked to the single gate and raised its red and white bar, allowing them through. Neal shouted a thanks to the guard, his friends remaining out of sight in the back of the van.