Objectives were communicated to the director by the Pentagon, sometimes in a formal briefing, sometimes casually, nothing was put in writing, nothing was spelled out explicitly, and weeks or even months or years later, quietly, in a way that was tailored in every respect to look like it had nothing to do with the government, the objective was met.

And it was truly deniable. No one in the government, not even the president, knew for sure if the group had been behind an incident.

Roth didn’t report to anyone. He didn’t answer to anyone.

Laurel checked her watch again. She got up and made herself a cup of dark roast from the coffee machine in the corner.

She didn’t regret her decision. She was glad she was where she was. It offered her the opportunity to do something real. But she’d be lying if she said it had worked out the way she’d imagined.

She had her own office. She had access to vast resources within the group, including a staff of specialists who provided planning support. She had her own budget.

She’d done everything Roth asked of her, including deleting her civil record and legally changing her name and identity. She’d cut ties to everyone she knew.

She’d built her own network of properties, apartments, vehicles, weapons stashes, safety deposit boxes, and bank accounts around the world. She’d traveled to dozens of countries to cultivate contacts in foreign spy organizations and embassies. She’d recruited her own informants in the US military and State Department.

She’d been there two years.

She was ready for action.

She was locked and loaded.

There was only one problem.

She had no asset.

She had no one to activate.

Her slot was empty.

Something had gone wrong with her predecessor. She’d been compromised. She was gone now.

Retired.

The term was ambiguous.

She knew it probably meant she was dead, but there was a sliver of doubt that allowed her to fool herself into thinking it might be something else.

Every asset had a codename. They were named after the cars the handlers had owned when the group was first created.

Paramilitary Operative Codenames

1. Mustang

2. Rebel

3. Camaro

4. Hornet

Special Operations Group Database

Laurel’s was slot number one.

Mustang.

She sat back in her chair and sipped her coffee. Roth supposedly had something important to tell her, but he was so late now, even by his standards, that she was beginning to give up hope of him ever showing. She wasn’t even sure he was in the building.

Then she saw Roth’s office door open. Finally, she thought, but it wasn’t Roth who left the office, it was Mansfield. Harry Mansfield was the NSA Director, and as far as Laurel could tell, his job was to make Roth’s life as difficult as possible. Their arguments were legendary.