Entering the low, almost surly looking shed where the missile casings were being stored, they were greeted by a bright flashlight in their eyes. It hesitated only a moment on the major before concentrating on John Hunt. But the light did not faze the Agent, both because his eyes saw easily passed the torch’s beam and because he had been expecting the greeting.

“He’s with me.” said Major Toranssen with a sternness that hinted at the urgency of the situation.

The man holding the torch lowered it and stepped forward, coming up to face the stranger with the full might of his muscular presence. John met the other man’s stare in the night without flinching, but spared the man the humiliation of simply brushing him aside. Master Chief Mike Lombardi of the Navy Seals believed he had faced death in his life. Twenty years beforehand two frightened officers in the Iraqi National Guard had pulled three of Mike’s fingernails out and crushed one of his molars with a pair of pliers. After two months in a clandestine prison, the ‘war’ had ended and Mike had been released, but the ordeal had proven to him that he was immune to anything short of actual death. Pain is weakness leaving the body, the Seals said. But standing face-to-face with the young and soft-looking John Hunt, the Seal could have no idea he was facing death incarnate. All his training and conditioning, the burnished shield earned through years of pain, none of it would protect him for a second if John Hunt were to accept the implied threat that Mike Lombardi was making.

The master chief had been told in absolute terms by the single most senior officer in the United States Navy that he should trust no one but Major Jack Toranssen, and he was ready to kill this stranger in front of him if the major gave even the slightest hint of an order. John Hunt waited patiently while the major figured out that he had to intervene, the hot breath of the master chief in his face as the Seal attempted to dominate him. Eventually Jack figured out what was happening and said, “It’s OK, Master Chief, he’s on our side. Mike, this is John. John, Mike.”

John held his ground until Mike stepped back a touch and then they both shook hands, Mike somewhat hesitantly. But with the same speed at which Mike’s ire had risen, it dissipated. For now, he was attached to Jack like a proverbial guard dog, and with Jack’s approval John became persona grata. They turned and set to, their task clear, all working quietly and efficiently to get ready.

* * *