The commentators on the TV screen had moved on to a discussion about the threat of a major blizzard in the Midwest and how that would impact the cost of natural gas. They were decrying market manipulation and price gouging. Neither man in the room cared. That was a problem for the Commodities and Futures Trading Commission, not the SEC.

Miller set his cup and saucer on the dainty little Sheraton tea table and scurried out of the office before McLain changed his mind. He couldn’t wait to get down to the little park on K Street so he could call Mark Stern and give him the outcome of this meeting.

*   *   *

The Air Force C-17 Globemaster III roared ahead at forty-five thousand feet, flying well above commercial traffic. The flight plan had been filed in Rota, Spain, detailing a transpolar flight with a load of spare parts, the route taking them from Rota to Yokota Air Force Base, just outside Tokyo. Despite what the flight plan said, the nearest this bird had been to Rota was a midair refueling between the Canary Islands and the Iberian Peninsula over four hours before. It would be nowhere near Japan.

Now it was over northern Sweden. The plane would cross Finland and then Norway, just a couple of miles west of the Russian border. Bill Beaman sat in the passenger compartment of the big bird with his six-man team. Johnston, Cantrell, Broughton, Martinelli, and Dumkowski had all been on missions with him before. They were veterans of the terrible firefights in the steamy Colombian jungle that had claimed the lives of many of their comrades. The lone new member of this elite group was Jason Hall. The strapping tall black man was a communications expert, as well as an expert sniper. He had arrived on the team after a tour with the SEAL Leapfrogs exhibition parachute team. Although his quiet, competent manner and likable personality melded easily into the team, he was well aware that total acceptance would come only after he had proven himself on a mission. Had he been one of the other team members, he would have felt the same way.

After sleeping restlessly for a great deal of the long flight, everyone was giving his gear a final check now as they neared their target. It never hurt to be careful. Once they were outside, it would be too late to fix any problems. Check, double-check, then have your partner check, too. Beaman inspected Johnston’s rig, and Johnston examined his.