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Authors: Carolyn McCray

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Now she had her very own CIA handler.


As I said,

Prenner stated very slowly
,

Emily Jannus doesn

t exist.


Of course she doesn

t. Ugh.

This was going to be a very long night.

Then the door opened as a woman dressed in long black gown, her hair tucked into a sleek bun
,
strode in.


This is a closed interrogation,

Prenner growled
,
but the woman put her hand out.


Nice to meet you. I

m Emily Jannus
.

T
he woman smiled
,
looking like she had just stepped into an elegant cocktail party.

And Bunny. So nice to see you again.

Bunny scoote
d
her chair over to make room for Emily, suddenly feeling underdressed for the occasion. Why did Mrs. Brandt have to go with peach?


My understanding is that you have a few questions for Ms. Hollingford?

Emily pleasantly asked the lieutenant.


My commander is
not
going to stand for this,

Prenner warned.

Emily chuckled.

Who do you think held the door open for me?

An older man in full dress uniform stepped into the room, his chest bristling with medals.

I am afraid my hands are tied. We are to cooperate fully with Ms. Jannus, or whatever her name truly is.

Bunny

s CIA handler just bent her head at a cute angle, demurring to the fact Emily wasn

t her real name but not giving any further details. Turning her attention from the men, Emily smiled at Bunny.


Now
,
why don

t you catch me up?


Well


Bunny looked to the officers
,
not sure how much she could say in front of them


t
he wackos kidnapped Brandt.

Emily pulled out a small tablet device and queued up the keyboard.

That much I know.


Then it got weird,

Bunny said
,
nodding to the
a
rmy men.

Apparently
,
the military tried to pull Rebecca and Brandt

s team from the pursuit.


That I hadn

t heard,

Emily stated as she typed rapidly.


Of course
,
they disobeyed those orders.

Emily

s eyebrows went up.

Of course.

She turned to the
g
eneral.

Why would you pull a highly decorated Special Ops team from the search for one of their own?


The order came from above.

Bunny noted that the
g
eneral would not meet Emily

s eyes.

Directly from the DoD.


See?

Bunny asked.

Weird. It makes no sense unless

The wackos have someone pretty high up.


What are you insinuating?

Prenner asked.

It was Emily
who
answered
,
though. Her breezy manner evaporating. Replacing it with a cool confidence.

I

m sorry, but you don

t have high enough clearance for me to even approach that question.

Prenner bristled as Bunny gave him a well
-
deserved

I told you so

look. The lieutenant looked ready to lash out, but the
g
eneral intervened, indicating that Prenner should leave.

Regs are regs.


Oh
,
I

m sorry,

Emily continued.

I meant
both
of you.

The
g
eneral

s brow creased
,
but he seemed too much of a professional to sputter in front of the CIA agent. Before they could turn from the room, Prenner

s cell
phone buzzed. He read the text
,
then flashed the message to the
g
eneral.

For a moment
,
they didn

t look like they were going to share.


Gentlemen?

Emily asked.

Do I need to call my
d
irector?

With a soul
-
deep sigh, the
g
eneral

s shoulders sagged.

Brandt has been located.

Bunny sat up straight in her chair. This was the best news since

w
ell, ever.


And?

Emily prompted.


It looks like he is heading to the Congo.

Emily turned to Bunny
,
but she shook her head.

I have no idea why the wackos would take him there.

Prenner cleared his throat.

I think I might know.

All eyes turned to the lieutenant.

That was the location of Brandt

s last mission.

Still
,
it made no sense. Bunny vaguely knew Brandt and Davidson had been on the African continent
,
but it had sounded like a routine mission. Nothing that ran afoul of the Disciples.


I think I

ve heard enough,

Emily said, rising from her chair.

I

ll be taking care of Ms. Hollingford.

The men didn

t argue
,
but neither did they part to let them leave.


Prenner goes with you,

the
g
eneral stated. Emily went to open her mouth
,
but he continued.

Otherwise
,
I
will
call your
d
irector. Then he will have to call a meeting at the White House with the Joint Chiefs. I take it you don

t want to wait that long?

A frown crossed over Emily

s lips
,
then curved up into a smile.

Prenner it is.

With that
,
the men parted
,
and Emily whisked Bunny out into the hallway
,
with the lieutenant close behind. Their heels clicking on the tile floor, Bunny asked,

Where are we going?

Emily grinned.

The Pentagon, of course.

Right. It involved Brandt and Rebecca
,
so of course it involved the Pentagon.

Duh.

CHAPTER 4

═══════════
═══════

Outside of Mbandaka
,
Democratic Republic of the Congo

May 27
, 5:05
p
.
m
.
(
CAT
,
Central African Time)

Brandt

s head banged against the Jeep

s window. Just add that to his collection of bruises. His body wanted to sink back into a drugged haze, but his mind had other plans. The next time the Jeep dipped into a huge hole in the dirt road and bounced out of it, Brandt braced, demanding that his muscles obey.

And they did. Well, at least a little bit. The paralytic must
have been
wearing off. Obviously
,
the Disciples were prepared for this fact since they had zip
-
tied Brandt

s hands and feet.

Squinting his eyes open, Brandt took in his surroundings. Actually
,
he took in the enemy number first and foremost. Besides the driver and the ever-so-pleasant Disciple
,
there were three other men
in the Jeep
. All black. Not just black
,
but with
ritualistic face scars
. These weren

t just any mercenaries. These men had been carrying a weapon since childhood. They had been boy soldiers
who
had grown up to be highly trained mercenaries.

He

d dealt with this brand of men before. Just last week
,
as a matter of fact. Taking in the passing scenery, Brandt realized he

d seen that too. Just last week as well. Lush jungle lay ahead as they drove through the misty
,
low
-
rolling hills of the Congo.

Why the hell would the Disciples bring him back here? Brandt

s last mission didn

t have anything to do with the
T
en
C
ommandments or even religion. A World Bank envoy had been kidnapped and needed extraction.

Sure
,
the mission had gotten bloody. Any mission in this impoverished part of the world invariably did. But what did the Disciples care about that?

Apparently a lot.

There were at least three Jeeps in front of them
,
and as they made a curve around a large hill, it seemed at least three Jeeps behind them.
The last carrying the young woman from the plane.
The Disciples had come in force.

Again, for what
,
though?

A zap from his molar brought Brandt back to more practical matters. All of this backcountry driving, chattering his teeth, must have fueled his transmitter. He was pinging his location, for who knew how long.

The Jeep

s engine groaned as they began the steep climb up into the dense rain
forest, heading toward, Brandt could only guess, the war
-
torn village where his last mission had culminated.

What the Disciples would do to him there was anyone

s guess.

With a drug-besotted mind, Brandt tried to calculate when he

d
activated his transmitter and how long it would take for his team to catch up. With a sigh
,
he slumped back into his seat. Even if his team had left the
S
tates the moment he had pinged them, the Disciples were at least six to eight hours ahead. Add in the time it would take to arrange transportation into the mountains
,
and his team
would be
ten hours behind.

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