Arctic Wargame (Justin Hall # 1) Read Free Page B

identity?”
    “You’re right. If only those damn satellites would work.” Carrie took a bite of her muffin and washed it down with a gulp of her coffee. “So it’s safe to assume I’ll need to pack my bags.”
    “I didn’t volunteer you.”
    “Johnson won’t let you go on your own. That’s if she even decides to assign you to such a task force.”
    Justin held the gaze of her gray-blue eyes. He nodded. “You’re right about that. She’s bringing in a couple of other people to this briefing. Some bigwig from DND and a lawyer from our legal services.”
    “You know them?”
    “No, and I don’t understand why they’re here.”
    “I’m sure Johnson will give us her excuse for calling them in.”
    “Yes, she will.”
    Justin glanced at his wristwatch. “Shall we head up?”
    Carrie finished her muffin and her coffee and stood up. “Sure. Let’s not make her wait.”
     
    * * *
     
    The office of Claire Johnson, Director General of Intelligence for North Africa, was at the northeast corner of the sixth floor. Justin walked in fast, short steps, listening to the rhythmic thud of his shoes over the hardwood floor. He stopped once in the hall. He saw a huge painting on the wall, depicting an impressive Arctic landscape and three determined explorers. Their weary faces were very much alive as they stoically pressed ahead with dogsleds toward the white horizon peppered with snow-capped ridges. The ice packs, the snow banks, and the heavy blizzard appeared quite real. Justin shook his head in awe before resuming his swift pace. He turned the corner and saw Carrie pacing in front of Johnson’s office door.
    “Justin, what took you so long?”
    “The painting. And it was only a moment.”
    “Everyone’s here.”
    “They’re early. We’re on time.”
    Justin knocked.
    “Come in,” called Johnson.
    Her office was neatly arranged, with an L-shaped desk and matching bookcases. Two women sat around an oval glass table that took almost half of the office space.
    Johnson nodded at Justin and Carrie while still swiveling in her black leather chair and tapping the keyboard of her desktop computer. She stood up. “Welcome, welcome. Let me introduce you to Colonel Alisha Gunn, with the NDHQ. She’s the chief of the Defence Intelligence Section.” Johnson gestured toward the older woman.
    The National Defence Headquarters in Ottawa was the heart of Canada’s military defense machine, where every nut and bolt of all operational forces joined together. The colonel was in a perfect position to feel the pulse of the armed forces. She had access to every piece of information streaming into the Department of National Defence databases.
    She was in her late forties, with gray, curly hair sticking out unevenly. Almost a head shorter than Carrie, she stood at about five feet, dressed in a gray pinstripe suit. The colonel had a strong handshake. She gave Justin a nod while her small brown eyes sparked with a tiny, almost invisible, glint of mischief.
    Justin said, “My pleasure.”
    “Nice to meet you, Agent Hall.” Her voice was coarse and throaty, as if she had just recovered from a serious case of sinus infection.
    “Please call me Justin.”
    She nodded. “That’s great, Justin, and you can address me as Alisha,” she said with a sincere smile before moving on to exchange pleasantries with Carrie.
    “And this is Anna Worthley. She’s an Operational Liaison with our Legal Services,” said Johnson.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agent Hall, especially after hearing so much about you,” the young woman said.
    Justin fought the initial impulse to frown as the counsel’s delicate fingers touched his large, rugged hand. Anna was in her late twenties, with short raven hair that sported an odd red highlight. She wore a black woolen sweater and black dress pants.
    Justin disliked all lawyers working for CIS’s most controversial department. They complicated his life and his operations with lengthy and dimwitted