When I start a new story, I have to get acquainted with my characters and develop a plot that pits them against their greatest fears and obstacles. Sometimes it’s a dangerous mission; sometimes it’s an emotional issue.
In SEAL Undercover, Max DiSalvo is nearing fifty. He’s never married, never found a woman willing to accept the dedication and commitment required of SEALs, and he’s resolved himself to never finding the right woman.
In steps Regan Shaw, a SEAL widow and DHS Intelligence Operations Specialist.
SEAL Undercover delivers all the thrills and risk readers love in military romantic suspense, but helping Max and Regan learn to love when they’d thought it was gone forever was mission critical.
Read the Prologue and Chapter One
Prologue
“This is just fucking bullshit.” Gavin Emery leaned forward in his chair, his face set in angry lines. His hoarse growl caught everyone’s attention. “How do we know this is even real?”
Jed Whitlow looked at the hologram in front of him. “Because I say so, and there’s no fucking way I’d lie to you or anyone else in this group. We’ve been together too long, and the plan is too critical, especially at this point. We are almost at the target date.”
Jed was the one who had called the meeting, so suddenly that the only option was to hold it holographically. They all lived too far away from each other to hold it live. At least this way they’d all be able to see each other. The eight people gathered for this represented a major portion of the wealth in North America and wielded significant behind-the-scenes power, globally as well as nationally. In two weeks, they would gather at the Whitlows’ hunting lodge—although the luxury of the place made it too extravagant to call a lodge. The subject of the meeting was the critical last step in a complex plan they had been working on for three years.
They were much too far into it to pull the plug, so this news made them all tense and on edge.
“Okay then, Jed. You’re up,” Gavin told him. “You’re the one who got the call and went to see Bernardo. Are we in a bunch of shit here?”
“I don’t think so.” Jed cleared his throat. “First of all, let me remind you that Bernardo and I have known each other since college. Even though he lives in Colorado. We’ve kept in touch over the years, and I knew this was something he’d buy into percent. He’s been a valuable asset from Day One, as has his wife, Jeanne Her skill at plucking information out of thin air has helped Ferren Arms and Munitions Manufacturing to grow to the size it is now.”
“But your message told us the situation has changed,” Emery pointed out.
“It has.” Jed paused. “As you all know, three days ago, at ten fifteen in the morning, Bernardo suffered a major heart attack. Luckily, he was home. His wife called EMS, and he was rushed to the hospital, where he’s still in the cardiac care unit. I flew up to see him at once, and it seems his recovery won’t be happening anytime soon. He may even need open-heart surgery.”
He paused. “Questions so far?”
“Where do we stand now?” Emery persisted. “You say he’s out, which could be a fucking disaster. He’s the one providing all the supplies we need for this as well as the means to deliver them.”
Lorena Alvaro leaned forward in her chair. Jed noticed that even at this early hour she was perfectly put together, as if attending the meeting in person. Her vanity and obsession with not showing her age were legendary, and she hadn’t yet figured out that none of them gave a flying fuck what she looked like as long as she did her part.
“Yes. How can we be sure this isn’t being faked? Maybe he just got cold feet now that we’re down to the wire and at the last minute wanted out. Leaving us in a terrible position, I might add. Are we even sure this is a real episode? I’ve had a doubt or two about him of late.”
Jed ground his teeth. This woman got on his nerves and things like that could throw a monkey wrench into their plans.
“He’s done absolutely nothing to make you feel that way.” He might have said the words with a little more force than necessary. “As I said earlier, I’ve known him for years, and that’s just not in his wheelhouse. That’s why I felt confident reaching out to him at the start. You don’t flourish in the arms business if it is. He’s more upset about this than we are. His doctors are having to increase his medication because of that to make sure he doesn’t have another attack.”
“You’re sure?” Lorena persisted.
Why couldn’t she just take his word for it so they could get on with the business at hand? If it weren’t for the fact she and her contacts were such a critical piece of this operation he’d uninvite her.
“You don’t have open-heart surgery scheduled just to miss a meeting, Lorena. I spoke at length to both his doctor and his wife when I was there and, I can assure you, this is real.”
“Just remember,” Lorena pointed out, “that this plan came about because of Elias and myself. We were the ones originally being paid to let the cartel use our land to get their drugs into this country.”
“And collected even more when they told you they wanted to up the ante and smuggle high-value terrorists in along with those drugs,” Kurt Cavanaugh pointed out.
“They were already getting paid a king’s ransom to do it, so there was plenty to share,”
Gavin added. “But few of their ‘clients’ had any idea of what they would do next except to wage
small attacks on multiple areas of this country. Kill a lot of people. Those people have no idea how much ‘a lot’ really is.”
“Yes, well, without that we’d never be able to put this plan in place,” Lorena pointed out,
“so pardon me if I’m a little edgy about this change in the situation. You would all do well to remember that. Now, tell me.” Lorena crossed her legs. “How is Jeanne taking it? I always saw her as a weak link. Maybe we need to handle her until this is over.”
Jed wanted to smash something. Why did Lorena always have to be such a bitch? Her
“handling” of things always resulted in bloodshed.
“She’s upset, as you can imagine,” he answered, “but holding it together. And she’s not a weak link, as you put it, Lorena. She knows what’s at stake here, just as everyone does. But obviously, if he’s not coming to the meeting, neither is she.”
“Of course,” Lorena snapped.
They had all met originally and formed their little group as couples. Although each marriage had a dominant partner, they had all been equals at the table, each an integral part of the group.
Each of them brought a vital contribution to the organization, and was as committed to The Plan as their spouse. Now the unspoken question that hovered in the air was who would replace the Ferrens and make sure their contribution didn’t disappear?
Jeanne Ferren was a specialist at analyzing data, something she’d learned working for a defense contractor long before she and Bernardo had married and with great care built their place at the top level of society. She’d had no problem at all turning that knowledge to helping them with their overall long-term project. Bernardo, a manufacturer and world-wide distributor of arms and munitions, knew exactly what to use and where and when to use it. He would also supply all the weapons for the schedule of “events” in the timeline.
“There can’t be any places at the table vacant now,” Gavin pointed out. “The last two pieces of the puzzle will be arriving this week. This meeting coming up is to put the finishing touches on the plans and be ready to move forward.” He shook his head. “This is a terrible time for him to have a heart attack.”
“I’ll be sure to pass that along to him.” Jed’s voice was edged with sarcasm.
“So, tell us. Just who is going to replace them? We can’t recruit strangers at this point. And what about the arms he’s providing? That’s a fucking lot of firearms and munitions to try and get somewhere at the last minute, even if we could find someone to trust.” Kurt glared at the holographic images, his stare biting into those viewing the meeting. “We have spent months—no, years—planning and we are too far into this to call it off. We will never have another chance like this. Everyone—and I mean everyone— is ready to move forward once these next players arrive. We can’t drop just anyone into this. If it weren’t for the arms and munitions that are at the heart of this, I’d say just move forward,”
Jed personally thought it was a stroke of luck Bernardo had a good solution for them, but he wasn’t sure if everyone else would think so. Max Ferren, Bernardo’s brother, was his partner in the company and knew exactly what was going on. Was he as plugged in to the operation as Bernardo was? The man had assured him that was the case.
What about his wife, though? Did she have the same skills as her sister-in-law? He wished he’d been able to meet them when he was there, but they were just at that moment returning from a trip out of state. Fuck it all to hell, anyway. This group had planned so carefully and worked so hard to kick off their plan with a bang—literally— choosing the target date for maximum impact.
They could not afford a screwup now.
He cleared his throat.
“Bernardo has an answer to the problem,” Jed told them. “I wanted to double check everything before I brought it to you, but this is as perfect as it can get. Bernardo’s brother, Max, will take his place. Max is Bernardo’s partner in Ferren Arms Manufacturing and has been involved in a number of activities they’ve ‘sponsored.’ You know the two men are very close ideologically and share many of the same contacts, or Bernardo would never have been able to commit to this plan. To be a part of it. He promises we can trust his brother as we do him, and I believe him.”
“Bring a stranger in?” Kurt snapped. “I don’t care who he is. I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable with that.”
“Well, we can’t leave those seats vacant,” Jed snapped. “Max is hardly a stranger, and we need the weapons. Did you want to buy them on the open market?”
There was a long moment of silence.
“I’ve met Max, and I trust him,” Jed added in a slow voice. “He and Bernardo are tight as brothers as well as partners. He wouldn’t recommend the man, brother or not, unless he was confident he could step right in. We knew from the beginning that Bernardo shared everything with him. A damn good thing, too, since he’s now fully briefed and ready to assume a seat at the
table. The last thing Bernardo would do, especially at this point, is send in someone who could fuck everything up and put us all at great risk.” He paused. “Including himself, I might add.
Anyway, I met Max a couple of times over the years, and I can assure you he’s got his shit together every bit as much as Bernardo does.”
“I guess we’ll just have to take your word for it, Jed.” Lorena glared at him through the hologram. “Besides, we’re past the stopping point, and we need the Ferren supplies. We’ll just have to put Max Ferren—and his wife, don’t forget—under a magnifying glass. Do we have pictures of them?”
Jed nodded. “I’ll be sending them along as soon as I hang up. I’ll also forward every bit of information on them. I started a search just before this phone call.”
“And Bernardo? How does he feel about being left out of the action?” Gavin Emery glared at the other images.
“He’s upset, naturally. He’s funded revolutions in other countries for financial gain, and he badly wanted an active part in this one.” Jed sighed. “Truthfully, however, I think having to deal with all this may have been one cause of the heart attack. His health hasn’t been all that good. I think he’s been hanging on until everything was in place and we could assume control. Of everything.”
“How well protected is he in the hospital?” Lorena asked. “No media or anyone can get to him?”
Jed nodded. “He’s hired top-level security. No one will get through those men.”
Everyone was silent for a long moment.
Finally Gavin cleared his throat. “I’m not happy with this, but we don’t have a choice.
We’re too far into this to call it off now. And we all agreed July 4th was ideal for this, symbolic as it is.”
Everyone nodded their agreement.
“When do we meet this perfect substitute?” Lorena asked, a nasty edge to her voice.
“He and his wife will be here next week. They’ll be staying at my hotel in town for a couple of days so I can meet with them and vet them, just to be sure. They shouldn’t be anywhere near the lodge until I’m satisfied he’s not a plant.”
“A plant?” Lorena’s words had a sharp edge. “Who would plant someone in our group?
How would they even find out about us? We’ve gone overboard with the secrecy on this.” She paused. “Right? Everyone agree to that?”
Each of them murmured their agreement.
“So how do we think something like that can happen? If anyone in this group has been flapping their lips, I will shoot you myself.”
“Lorena, no one’s been talking out of school,” Jed soothed. “We all have too much at stake to do that.
“What about Max Ferren’s wife?” Gavin asked. “Has she been read in? And what does she bring to the table?”
Jed nodded. “She’s been included since the beginning, just like Max.” He smiled. “And she brings skills to those her sister-in-law has. As I said earlier, she knows how to hack into secure systems and analyze data.”
“So she’d be able to let us know if any word of our plan leaked out?” Gavin’s smile was more vicious than friendly. “Good.”
“I’m meeting them at the hotel next Tuesday. That will give me two days to turn him upside down before we all arrive at the lodge.”
“And that’s exactly what you’ll be doing,” Gavin stated. “We’re too close to our goal for anything to go wrong.”
“I’ll keep you all in the loop.”
“Be sure you do that,” Kurt growled.
Jed shut down the video conference and sat back in his chair. Bernardo was his oldest friend.
He trusted him completely. He just wished he didn’t have this little feeling of unease running through him. He hated last-minute change. It always screwed something up. If it happened here, it could blow up in their faces.
Literally.
Chapter One
Max DiSalvo (Commander, Navy SEALS, Ret) double checked to make sure his boat, the lead boat in his small fleet, was securely moored in its slip before heading along the dock. Next he made sure that everything was locked up in the small shed where he kept extra equipment and where they finished cleaning at the end of the day. Finally he climbed the steps to the parking lot where his truck sat. His shoulder still bothered him now and then, but it didn’t keep him from pulling his share of the load. It just meant a hot shower at the end of the day and an application of the stuff the therapist had given him. He’d learned to live with the twinges and the stiffness when the weather was really cold. He was grateful that it hadn’t been worse, even if it had ended his career as an active duty SEAL.
Hauling himself into the driver’s seat, he rolled down his window and sat for a moment before cranking the ignition, just enjoying the scene. The sun was setting, its rays warming the air and sending heat through the windshield. The scent of sea salt filled the air, mingled with the aroma of fresh fish and diesel fuel. Another good day on the water. His crew had packed the entire catch up for delivery and taken off, so all he had to do was— What? Shower and change?
Have a cup of coffee? A drink? Was that what his life had come to?
As a teenager, he had loved working in his family’s small but productive fishing company.
He’d also spent summers at it until he graduated from college. He loved being on the water and when he wasn’t working a boat crew he was swimming, kayaking, or enjoying other water sports with his friends. Was it any wonder he ended up being a SEAL?
Once he joined the Navy and was accepted into the SEALs, he’d had no more time for the company. If he wasn’t on a mission, he was training for it or involved in rugged activities with his fellow SEALs. And enjoying women. Nothing serious. He was married to the SEALs. But he did enjoy the ones he spent time with. He figured when he settled down, so to speak, he’d have plenty of time to concentrate on a woman.
That moment in his life came sooner than he expected. At forty-eight he hadn’t been quite ready to leave the SEALs, but he didn’t have a choice. On the final mission he led his SEAL
team, he’d been shot twice in his shoulder, the bullet seriously impacting the muscle and bone structure. The injury had ended his career as an active duty SEAL, and that had been the bitterest pill. He had done his best to requalify, sweating through all the therapy sessions and repeating
the exercises at home, forcing himself through the pain to practice on the gun range, but it hadn’t been enough. His attempt to be restored to active duty had been an epic failure, one he had to get over if he was going to enjoy the rest of his life.
So now here he was, Commander Max DeSalvo, Retired, trying to step back into a life he hadn’t known for years and wondering if he’d be able to do it. Or even wanted to. He still had the skills, no question about that. Some things you never forgot. He was still physically fit, even allowing for the shoulder. So what if he had more gray hair on his head than he’d like. Maybe it made him look distinguished. And he couldn’t deny that commercial fishing gave him a sense of peace he hadn’t known for a very long time.
On the way home to Maine, he’d turned his thoughts to the future that had a remarkably different outlook. His parents, now in their late seventies, had been hinting about retiring and indulging their passion for traveling. Max had often thought about spending his days working on the ocean he loved so much, running the fishing boats he’d grown up on. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. At least, he thought, he had a plan, a purpose for after the SEALs, which so many men he knew did not.
A few strokes of a pen had turned the company over to him. It was like putting on an old familiar sweater, and he had to admit he loved it. The fishing. Watching the sunsets. Being on the water. Reconnecting with some old friends.
Today had been great, catchwise. He had a top quality crew and top-notch captains for the other three boats, but his life had holes in it. Perhaps he’d left attention to the personal part too long. Maybe that was why he couldn’t get rid of this restless feeling.
Shaking his head, he started the engine, pulled out of the lot, and headed for home. These days that was a small New England colonial with a wide front porch. He’d thought of renting, but Sunset Harbor, as small as it was, only had two rental complexes, and neither one really appealed to him.
What if she doesn’t like it?
He had no fucking idea who she was, or how or when he’d even meet a she. He obviously hadn’t prepared well on that front. Just dragged his sorry ass back to Sunset Harbor, took over the reins of DiSalvo Commercial Fishing, plunked down a deposit on the house, and somehow expected his life to suddenly come together. The first six months he’d been busy getting reacclimated to civilian life, to his small hometown, and reconnecting with some of the people
he’d known years before. As long as his right hand held up, he hadn’t missed female companionship.
But he felt it was time to make some changes in his life in that direction. Now that he had a stable, settled life, he didn’t want to live it alone. Not that he’d made a real effort to find female companionship. But he was growing tired of moving from one day to the next and wondering if this was a sad forecast of the rest of his future.
With a sigh, he showered off the fish smell and pulled on clean jeans and a DiSalvo T-shirt, checked the dismal contents of the fridge, and decided he’d have dinner and a beer at The Rusty Scupper. Ted Doyle always served the best food, didn’t pester him with questions, and he could hang out or not.
Less than thirty minutes later he was situated on a stool at the polished oak bar at the Scupper, sipping on a local craft beer and waiting for his meatloaf and mashed potatoes. A not very glamourous meal but damn! Nobody made it better than Ted’s cook. Maybe when he found a woman that would be one of the requirements. But first he had to start looking, and Sunset Harbor had a woefully short list of candidates.
“Here you go.” Ted slid the plate onto the counter in front of him, the fragrance of the food drifting up in a cloud of steam.
“Man, if your cook was single, I might have to marry him,” he joked.
“Maybe you can catch him on one of the nights his wife kicks him out of the house. Enjoy.”
He was just swallowing the last bite of his dinner and working his way through his second beer when a hand clapped down on his shoulder. At first, he tensed, wondering who was touching him that way. But when he turned his head, he found himself smiling.
“Crash? Holy shit, is that you? Dan, it’s good to see you.” He looked the man up and down.
“But what the hell kind of costume party you dressed up for?”
Navy SEAL Silas “Si” Branson would always be Crash to his SEAL friends, the reminder of his famous joyriding episode. The man was tall as ever and still looking fit. Only instead of fatigues or jeans he was decked out in a tailored navy suit with a white shirt and a striped tie. His hair was cut a lot shorter, too, and when Max looked down he saw Si’s feet were shod in what looked like expensive loafers.
“If only.” His friend sighed.
“So I guess the rumors are true. You’ve gone over to the dark side.”
“It’s a lot darker than you think,” Si grunted. “So, how’s the shoulder? Heard it might be kind of gimpy.”
Anger rose up in Max at the mention of his injury. It had ruined his career as a SEAL, and talking about it made him want to throw something. Or hit someone.
“Doesn’t hurt my fishing,” he snapped.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Si held his hands up, palms outward. “Just asking. I have the same kind of problem. Wrecked my back and just could not come back from it. Killed me with the SEALS.”
Max was instantly contrite. “Sorry to hear that, buddy. And sorry I bit your head off.”
Si shrugged. “No biggie. I know just how you feel. So, no women in your life these days? I thought for sure the minute you retired you’d have a long string of them.”
Max’s laugh was short and sharp. “Yeah, I might have to look beyond Sunset Harbor for that. Seems the best women here are already taken. Anyway, how’s Maggie? Did I hear right that the two of you kissed and made up and got hitched again?”
“You did.” Si had a proud look on his face. “And she’s due to pop any day now.”
Max’s jaw dropped. ”She’s pregnant? Well, good for you guys.”
Everyone in their tightknit SEAL circle knew about the death of Si and Maggie’s son, the emotional devastation that followed, and the divorce. He was glad for his friend and wondered for a moment if he’d ever have that kind of emotional commitment with anyone.
Shut up. Si’s not here so you can complain about your love life. Or lack of it.
“As a matter of fact,” Si continued, “she’s one of the main reasons I have this new job.”
“Oh yeah?” Max lifted an eyebrow. “How’s that?”
“Her connections got me the interview and it was all the way after that.” Si nodded at Max’s plate. “If you’re through with your meal, let’s head to that booth in the corner and I’ll tell you.”
“Oh? We need privacy for this?” Max could not imagine why that was. Except…Wait a minute. Hadn’t he heard through the SEALs’ grapevine that Si was now with the Department of Homeland Security?
“For sure.”
“Okay. How about a beer? Or coffee? Something to wet your throat while we talk.”
“Coffee would be great.” Si grimaced. “It’s been a long day.”
As soon as they were settled in the booth, Max looked at his friend. “So, tell me about this cushy office job you have now.”
Si barked a laugh. “I’m not in the office that much and I’d hardly call it cushy. But it’s the reason I’m here.”
“And that is?” Max kept his voice even.
Si reached into his inside beast pocket, pulled out a photo and slapped it on the table.
Max’s eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline.
“Is that a picture of me? Where the hell did you get it, and what are you doing with it? And how did my face get in a picture at an event I’ve never attended.” He stared at the photograph.
“Wait. There’s something different… Hell! That’s not me, but I sure as hell could pass for him.”
“Exactly. He also happens to be named Max. Max Ferron”
Max DiSalvo frowned. “Do I know him?”
“No. He and his brother, Bernardo, have made billions in the arms and munitions industry.”
“Yeah? Why does that give me a bad feeling?”
“Because you always were a smart son of a bitch, with good instincts.”
Max was still looking at the photo. “So, what is it you want from me?”
“How would you like to go to a very private, very small meeting with people who want to take over this country?”
Max was sure his jaw dropped far enough to hit the table.
“Are you shitting me?”
Si shook his head. “Not even a little. Look. I head up a unit of the DHS that’s so secret no one ever mentions it. We deal with the threats to national security that are so heavy, one misstep and the country goes to hell. We have a dangerous situation evolving here, Max, and I need you.
Your country needs you. It’s not done with you yet. If you’re up for it, we need to go someplace more private to talk.” He paused. “And then, if you’re in, we need to head to the D.C. area.”
It took Max all of three seconds to make up his mind. He jogged over to the bar, slapped some bills on it then motioned to Si to head out the door with him.
“Where’s your car?” he asked. When Si pointed, Max said, “Follow me.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were in Max’s living room, Max sitting and Si pacing.
“First of all,” Si began, “I have this super-secret group within the DHS. It was my idea, and the director supports it. A small number of retired SEAL officers who can lead a group of multi-agency operatives when needed on missions no one else can know about.”
“And what’s this group of yours called?”
Si grinned. “The Bone Frog Command.”
Max chuckled. “I couldn’t have picked a better one.”
Every SEAL knew that in the Vietnam era Navy SEALs were known as frogmen. In the early 2000s a new image for the SEAL Teams began to emerge, a skeleton of a frog that paid homage to those earlier generations of SEALs. It became the inspiration for tattoos on many SEAL Team warriors. Max had one as did several of his SEAL friends.
“So,” he prodded, “what is it you want from me?”
“I want you to go to this meeting where there’s a good chance someone will try to kill you, get all the information you can, and get out with your skin intact so we can destroy this before it gets off the ground. And lock these people away.”
“That’s all?” Max burst out laughing. “You make it sound so appealing.” Then he looked at Si’s face and all laughter went away. “You’re serious. Okay. Let’s have it. What’s this all about?”
Si cleared his throat. “There is a group—a cabal—of five couples who live in some of the Western states. They control enormous wealth and have vast, silent, almost invisible reaches of power. They think they are untouchable gods who can do anything they want.”
“And what is it they want?”
“More power. All the power. Like I said earlier, their goal is to gain full control of the United States. To get rid of the government as we know it and have every bit of power in their hands, with their own puppet at the head so they can pull the strings.”
Max whistled. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah. No kidding. There’s some kickers here.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “One.
They want to get rid of everyone in key positions of power and replace them with their own people. Two. They’ve been in bed with one of the most powerful cartels for some time. The Rojas cartel. One of them had the original connection and was providing a safe passage the cartel could use to bring drugs into this country. Apparently, along the way, the cartel added terrorists looking for new, fertile territory to rebuild their power. Now these people are working with that cartel to smuggle some of the worst, most high-value extremists over the border into this country.”
Max could feel the color draining from his face. “God. For what purpose?”
“Like I said, they have delusions of grandeur and want to take over this country. The chatter we’ve captured indicates their first step is a massive terror strike to dismantle the government.
The unholy thought at Bone Frog is that the cabal has made a deal with these terrorists to be group leaders, with small armies made up of low-level terrorists and cartel soldiers.”
For a moment, Max was afraid he would throw up.
“Terrorism is, as we know, a tactic. A strategy used to achieve a specific end. One effect of what they’re planning is the weakening of the American economy by forcing massive spending on security. But that’s only stage two. Others will follow as the country collapses and these maniacs take control.”
Mac dipped his head. “Go on.”
“The cabal is pandering to the desires of these animals,” Si continued, “to help create a network in this country as they’ve done in their own. Then these traitors can destroy our existing structure through fear and intimidation and take over the country. With, we assume, the cartel soldiers as backup enforcement. That gives them an open market for their drugs with no controls.” He paused. “Think of it, Max. Their plan is to control the government, the media, the schools, the military. You name it.”
“Jesus Christ, Si.” Max could feel the blood draining from his face. He’d fought enough years in the sandbox to know what kind of governments operated when people like this were in charge.
“No kidding. And that’s not all. One of the three top people in the government is their new chosen figurehead. Someone who already has incredible power. He—or she, I guess—is helping them with this.”
Max stared at him. “The president?”
Si shrugged. “That’s one possibility. But it’s definitely at that level. We need you to find out who that person is and, so far, we’re stymied.”
“You know,” Max said slowly, “this sounds like they want to take over the world where others using the same methods have failed.”
“I wouldn’t say no to that. It’s what terrifies us. And we have a very short time frame.”
“What do you mean?”
“According to the chatter we’ve picked up, the big launch is scheduled for three weeks from now.” He paused. “July 4th.”
Max wanted to believe he’d heard wrong but knew he hadn’t. Holy motherfucker. He pushed himself out of his chair and went to stare out the big window, hands in his pockets, brain rushing full steam ahead.
“They picked Independence Day to take away the country’s independence?”
“Exactly. He also happens to be named Max. Max Ferron”
Max DiSalvo frowned. “Do I know him?”
“No. He and his brother, Bernardo, have made billions in the arms and munitions industry.”
“Yeah? Why does that give me a bad feeling?”
“Because you always were a smart son of a bitch, with good instincts.”
Max was still looking at the photo. “So, what is it you want from me?”
“How would you like to go to a very private, very small meeting with people who want to take over this country?”
Max was sure his jaw dropped far enough to hit the table.
“Are you shitting me?”
Si shook his head. “Not even a little. Look. I head up a unit of the DHS that’s so secret no one ever mentions it. We deal with the threats to national security that are so heavy, one misstep and the country goes to hell. We have a dangerous situation evolving here, Max, and I need you.
Your country needs you. It’s not done with you yet. If you’re up for it, we need to go someplace more private to talk.” He paused. “And then, if you’re in, we need to head to the D.C. area.”
It took Max all of three seconds to make up his mind. He jogged over to the bar, slapped some bills on it then motioned to Si to head out the door with him.
“Where’s your car?” he asked. When Si pointed, Max said, “Follow me.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were in Max’s living room, Max sitting and Si pacing.
“First of all,” Si began, “I have this super-secret group within the DHS. It was my idea, and the director supports it. A small number of retired SEAL officers who can lead a group of multi-agency operatives when needed on missions no one else can know about.”
“And what’s this group of yours called?”
Si grinned. “The Bone Frog Command.”
Max chuckled. “I couldn’t have picked a better one.”
Every SEAL knew that in the Vietnam era Navy SEALs were known as frogmen. In the early 2000s a new image for the SEAL Teams began to emerge, a skeleton of a frog that paid homage to those earlier generations of SEALs. It became the inspiration for tattoos on many SEAL Team warriors. Max had one as did several of his SEAL friends.
“So,” he prodded, “what is it you want from me?”
“I want you to go to this meeting where there’s a good chance someone will try to kill you, get all the information you can, and get out with your skin intact so we can destroy this before it gets off the ground. And lock these people away.”
“That’s all?” Max burst out laughing. “You make it sound so appealing.” Then he looked at Si’s face and all laughter went away. “You’re serious. Okay. Let’s have it. What’s this all about?”
Si cleared his throat. “There is a group—a cabal—of five couples who live in some of the Western states. They control enormous wealth and have vast, silent, almost invisible reaches of power. They think they are untouchable gods who can do anything they want.”
“And what is it they want?”
“More power. All the power. Like I said earlier, their goal is to gain full control of the United States. To get rid of the government as we know it and have every bit of power in their hands, with their own puppet at the head so they can pull the strings.”
Max whistled. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah. No kidding. There’s some kickers here.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “One.
They want to get rid of everyone in key positions of power and replace them with their own people. Two. They’ve been in bed with one of the most powerful cartels for some time. The Rojas cartel. One of them had the original connection and was providing a safe passage the cartel could use to bring drugs into this country. Apparently, along the way, the cartel added terrorists looking for new, fertile territory to rebuild their power. Now these people are working with that cartel to smuggle some of the worst, most high-value extremists over the border into this country.”
Max could feel the color draining from his face. “God. For what purpose?”
“Like I said, they have delusions of grandeur and want to take over this country. The chatter we’ve captured indicates their first step is a massive terror strike to dismantle the government.
The unholy thought at Bone Frog is that the cabal has made a deal with these terrorists to be group leaders, with small armies made up of low-level terrorists and cartel soldiers.”
For a moment, Max was afraid he would throw up.
“Terrorism is, as we know, a tactic. A strategy used to achieve a specific end. One effect of what they’re planning is the weakening of the American economy by forcing massive spending on security. But that’s only stage two. Others will follow as the country collapses and these maniacs take control.”
Mac dipped his head. “Go on.”
“The cabal is pandering to the desires of these animals,” Si continued, “to help create a network in this country as they’ve done in their own. Then these traitors can destroy our existing structure through fear and intimidation and take over the country. With, we assume, the cartel soldiers as backup enforcement. That gives them an open market for their drugs with no controls.” He paused. “Think of it, Max. Their plan is to control the government, the media, the schools, the military. You name it.”
“Jesus Christ, Si.” Max could feel the blood draining from his face. He’d fought enough years in the sandbox to know what kind of governments operated when people like this were in charge.
“No kidding. And that’s not all. One of the three top people in the government is their new chosen figurehead. Someone who already has incredible power. He—or she, I guess—is helping them with this.”
Max stared at him. “The president?”
Si shrugged. “That’s one possibility. But it’s definitely at that level. We need you to find out who that person is and, so far, we’re stymied.”
“You know,” Max said slowly, “this sounds like they want to take over the world where others using the same methods have failed.”
“I wouldn’t say no to that. It’s what terrifies us. And we have a very short time frame.”
“What do you mean?”
“According to the chatter we’ve picked up, the big launch is scheduled for three weeks from now.” He paused. “July 4th.”
Max wanted to believe he’d heard wrong but knew he hadn’t. Holy motherfucker. He pushed himself out of his chair and went to stare out the big window, hands in his pockets, brain rushing full steam ahead.
“They picked Independence Day to take away the country’s independence?”
“That’s exactly what the fuckers did.” Si spat out the words. “That’s why we need you to help us stop them.”
“And just how am I supposed to do this? Exactly?”
“That picture I showed you of the guy who could be your doppelganger?”
Max nodded.
“He’s suddenly become a key player.”
“Suddenly?” Max frowned. “You’d better explain that.”
“Okay. DHS has been working on this for two years, ever since they got the first hint of trouble. Once we knew all the names involved, we dug around looking for anything that gave us some leverage. We got one lucky break. We got information on Bernardo Ferron, arms and munitions billionaire, of some things he’s done that could send him to prison for a long time.
Illegal arms sales. Hiding money in offshore accounts. Funding revolutions in small countries to provide more markets for his merchandise.”
Max made a rude noise. “Nice guy.”
“Tell me about it.” A muscle ticked in his jaw, the only sign of the stress he was under. “We were only able to learn the date this thing explodes a couple of days ago. And think about it, Max. We can’t even alert the military without sending signals to everyone and his brother. Not to mention the fact, where would we send them? There are so many logical targets I’m not even sure we have enough military to cover them all.”
“Fuck.” It was all Max could think of to say. He was well aware of the effect multiple terrorists strikes would have in this country
“Anyway,” Si continued, “we don’t have too many options. We need confirmation of the date and a blueprint of the strikes. We ‘convinced’ Bernardo to have a heart attack and to tell the others his brother, Max, will be taking his place.” He paused. “The man you’re a dead ringer for.
And who, by the way, as you’re now aware, coincidentally happens to have the same first name you do.”
Max snorted. “I hope you aren’t using the word ‘dead’ literally.”
One corner of Si’s mouth turned up in a half grin. “Only figuratively, I promise you.”
“Do the others in this disgusting group know they’re getting a substitute? Are they even willing to do this?”
“Jed Whitlow, the person who put this group together, made sure everyone knew this was their best and only course of action. Bernardo, at our urging, was very convincing.”
“I won’t even ask what you mean by urging. But let me ask you this. What makes you think Bernardo won’t spill the beans? Or get away from his hospital room?”
Si’s smile was positively evil. “Because we have four former SEALs guarding him day and night. Jed Whitlow, who flew up to see him, thinks they are private security Ferron has hired.
When he came to check it out we made sure everyone, including Ferron, put on a good performance.”
“And what does he get out of it.”
“He thinks he’s getting a free pass on prison and will have the opportunity to live out his life on some island in luxury.”
“He thinks? And what’s really going to happen.”
“That’s above my pay grade.” He walked over to Max. “Anyway, as soon as I saw the picture and heard the name, I knew we had to get you into this. You’ve got all the necessary skills. If you say yes, you’ve got five days to learn everything you need to know to become Max Ferron.”
“What happens then?”
“Their next very private, very secret meeting I told you about? It’s taking place at a lodge hidden away from the world. We believe it’s the final get-together before July 4th. We want you to go in there as Max Ferren and get every bit of information available to bring them down.”
Max gave a hard laugh. “You don’t want much, do you.”
“Listen. You’re our only chance. There’s no one else we can insert. We’ll give you all the protection we can. But, in the end, it may be up to you.” He sighed. “Will you do it, Max? I know this is a cheesy line, but like I said earlier, your country needs you.”
Max stared out the window for a long time. He knew this was risky. He might even get killed. But for the first time since he’d been shot, his blood was stirring and his pulse racing. He had a purpose. This was what he lived for. To serve his country in any way he could.
“Well?” Si prodded.
Max turned. “You knew I’d do it, or you’d never have come here. But I need the morning to get things organized with the boat crews and put someone in charge while I’m away.”
“No problem.”
“Fourth of July, huh? They picked a symbolic day to do this. On purpose, I’m sure.”
“No shit. The assholes. I’d like to take them apart myself.” He paused. “There’s one more thing. I haven’t discussed it with anyone except my boss and Regan.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Part of their attack could include biological weapons.”
Max’s blood chilled, and he had trouble breathing. “Bioterrorism? Are you kidding me?”
“I hope so. We haven’t picked up any chatter about it, but you know it is a favorite of the terrorists in the Middle East.”
Max knew that very well. The possibility of it on missions was always there in the background, which was why they carried special gear.
“Fuck, Si. We need to shut this damn thing down before it goes any further.”
Si nodded. “That we do. Okay, I’ll have the chopper pick us up at one tomorrow. That do it for you?”
“The chopper?” Max chuckled. “Yeah, that’ll be fine, but we’d better do it somewhere away from here or the townspeople will be gossiping twenty/four seven.”
“Gotcha. Oh, and there’s a bonus with this. You’ll have a wife with you.”
“A wife?” Max stared at his friend.
“Yeah. Max Ferron was recently married. No one in the group has met her, but we had Bernardo vouch for her along with his brother.”
“They can’t be too happy about all this.”
Si nodded. “They’re not. But Bernardo’s been a driving force in this group. His arms and munitions are the key to pulling this off. He’s had to reach out to others to gather the quantity he needs, which means they’re no doubt already setting up the beginning of their worldwide network.”
Max stared at the other man. “And who is this woman who’s my supposed wife?”
“She works for DHS as an Intelligence Operations Specialist. Analyzes chatter coming in.
She’s the one who first picked up on this. When she did, she was moved onto the Bone Frog staff
so we could keep the people in the loop as few as possible. She’s been thoroughly briefed ln everything and will be a big help.”
Right. Some computer analyst who probably thought this would be a walk in the park.
“I assume she looks enough like the new Mrs. Ferren to pass for her?”
“Even more than we could have hoped for. We were able to scrub whatever is out there on the Internet, but I’m sure this group already has printouts with her picture. They leave nothing to chance. It’s a given when your plan is to take over the world.”
“What’s her name, anyway?”
“Regan Shaw. Another reason she fits the bill. Max Ferren’s wife is also named Regan. How bizarre is it that both first names, yours and hers, fit? We figure it’s some kind of sign.”
“One can pray.” He rubbed his jaw. “I just hope she knows enough to make this charade work.”
“Don’t write her off before you meet her,” Si joked. “You might be in for a surprise.”
“We’ll see,” was all Max said.
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