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Blacker, who sat next
to Shep’s formidable desk. The room reeked of cigar smoke, reminding Adam it
was Thursday poker night for the old soldiers, where they relived the glorious
Cold War days and jonesed about better days to come post 9-11.
    Shep stalked to his desk and sank into his chair, demonstrating
the ease of movement natural to their kind, even in their older years. “What
happened? Christenson pulled us in because we’re bred to be the best. Please
tell me why I spent the last hour apologizing to an irate ambassador and his
sobbing wife? Not to mention,” Shep’s voice lowered dangerously, “the damn FBI
laughing their asses off at us. They’ve been looking for an excuse for years to
integrate the Program under their domain. Let’s not hand them the opportunity
on a goddamn silver platter.”
    Chase shrugged and raised his eyebrows in Adam’s direction.
Adam knew what he had to do, but it didn’t mean he liked it. “I screwed up,” he
said, hating the unfamiliar taste of a confession.
    Shep and his father swiveled to face him directly. “Oh?”
William Blacker asked. His tone was all hard-ass, but his eyes betrayed his
concern that his son screwed up in a very public way.
    “There was a woman there…she…I was distracted. I left the
room with someone I thought was the greater threat but I judged wrong and exposed
the baby to the kidnapper. I…” He stopped. There were no words to make it
right.
    “We got played. Pure and simple,” Chase said. “They threw
out a red herring and we jumped on it.”
    Shep’s eyes narrowed. “A woman distracted you? What did she
do, shoot fireworks from her pussy?”
    “Just about,” Adam muttered.
    His father leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. “Could the
woman have been in on it? Maybe she was meant to distract you. God knows we’ve
all been too distracted by women lately.” He didn’t say it, but Adam knew he
referred to the exposé in the media the previous week. For more than fifty
years the Program operated in total secrecy outside the Washington Beltway. One
email from a disgruntled spouse had changed it all.
    Chase sat up straight. “No. Not this woman.” Then he clamped
his mouth shut, not wanting to reveal the woman in question was his sister.
    Adam shot him a quick apologetic glance, but knew he had to
reveal all if they were to get to the bottom of the kidnapping and find
Christenson’s kid. “It was Loren Stanton, Chase’s half sister.”
    Dead quiet settled into the room as each man pondered the
implications. Finally Shep gathered his wits. “You say she distracted you.
How?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know…the closer I got to her, it was
like we were alone in the room. I wanted to grab her and…” He did not want to
tell Chase he’d wanted to fuck his sister against the wall of the ballroom
without regard to the audience. In fact, just the memory of her smile and scent
had him shifting in his seat to accommodate the sudden swelling of his cock.
“But she left the room before I did. There’s no way she could’ve returned and
taken the kid.”
    Shep and his father exchanged a long, meaningful glance.
What the hell was that about?
    “Okay, we’ll get back to Ms. Stanton later,” Shep said. “For
now, tell us everything you remember about the party leading up to the
kidnapping. Officially, we are off the case. As the FBI put it, ‘the hired
muscle is no longer necessary and the brains are taking over the operation.’
But I’m not convinced this was an ordinary kidnapping. We’ll need to work
delicately, not step on toes.”
    Hired muscle, his ass. As genetically enhanced government
soldiers, they had perfect recall and higher than average IQs. Adam and Chase
spent the next hour retelling the night’s events and analyzing them from every
angle. When at last Shep felt they’d had enough, he ended the session, warning
them to expect more tomorrow.
    “You may go,” he said to Chase, but asked Adam to stay a few
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