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me in a tight spot, Glenn. I can’t pull resources to help someone who doesn’t technically work for us anymore.”
    â€œI know.” As Special Activities director, Steve oversaw all US HUMINT operations in hostile areas. His were the operations Glenn had not wanted to jeopardize. “I’m not asking you to do that.”
    â€œThen what are you asking?”
    â€œMossad’s doing a snatch-­and-­grab op in Iraq, right? In An Nasiriyah. Coordinating through you to keep the locals calm.”
    â€œYes, I briefed the DNCS two weeks ago. It goes down tomorrow. Some fucking kraut arms runner funneling shit to Hezbollah and Hamas. He should have relayed that to you—­”
    Glenn waved him off. “He did. I need the lead Mossad agent’s contact info.”
    â€œYou’re going to need Mossad’s approval to change their operation.”
    â€œWon’t work. No, I need to talk to the lead agent in the field. I need her to redirect efforts to find Mike. And I need to keep this all between you, me, and the wall.”
    â€œAnd what makes you think I’ll give it?”
    Glenn leaned back and fixed Steve with his gaze. “You will.”
    Steve waved a finger. “Don’t try that dead-­eyes shit with me, Glenn. We’ve known each other too damn long for that to work. My reflection scares me more than you do.”
    â€œRight.” Glenn chuckled. “What was I thinking?”
    â€œEven if you convince the Mossad agent, she’ll still inform her controllers.”
    â€œNo, she won’t.”
    â€œAnd how do you know that?”
    â€œBecause I know her. We go back a ways. She’s their most senior clandestine agent and director of Metsada. I just don’t have her contact info in the field. You do. So I need you to help me out.”
    â€œWhat are you going to tell the director about the UAV?”
    â€œSay I chased a hunch and found nothing.”
    â€œYou think he’ll buy that shit?”
    â€œAfter I saved his ass from the presidential fire over Basra? Yes, he’ll buy whatever I sell him. Plus, who gives a shit? So I diverted a UAV for a few minutes. Not like I assassinated anyone.”
    Steve’s right eyebrow flicked up. He steepled his fingers together and rested them under his chin. Glenn watched him, knowing the thoughts racing through his counterpart’s head, weighing what he should do versus what he would do.
    â€œCome on, Steve,” he said. “I need help on this one. You know it would take a lot for me to ask a favor like this. Besides saving my ass from a congressional inquiry and certain jail time, you’d be saving the CIA’s rep and brother agent.”
    â€œThe perception is he resigned, and perception is reality.”
    â€œHe’s an operator. Don’t hold his status against him.”
    After another minute of silence, Steve said, “You’re going to owe me a ton for this, Glenn.”
    Glenn smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

 
    Chapter Three
    M ike felt like he floated in the calm waters of a lake on a dark starless night. Everything seemed still and peaceful and somehow right. Then something blew by him in the darkness. He searched, looking, and found only a shroud of black enveloping him.
    It blew by him again. He spun and felt something surging up his legs and torso. Something moving, swirling. It constricted as it covered every inch of him. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream.
    But he could hear. Flies buzzing. Locusts singing. They bit at his skin. First in random intervals. Then all at the same time. Biting and ripping while their wings beat the air louder and louder and louder . . .
    M ike fluttered his eyes and breathed deep, grateful to be awake from the nightmare. Then he realized he was lying on a metal table, staring at the framing of an old drop ceiling lacking fiberglass tiles. Any feelings of