He smiled. "Nate Sterling, Deputy Director of National Intelligence. I must apologize for any inconvenience you may have suffered.”
"Inconvenience?"
He chuckled. "Sometimes, on the battlefield, things can get… confused."
"Confused," I repeated.
"I'm sure you understand.”
I understood all too well how chaotic a battlefield could get. But this was beyond confusion.
"It seems you have friends in high places.”
I gave him a quizzical look.
"By order of the President, you and Jack Donovan are hereby released. I've given instructions to the agents to delete all transcripts, notes, and footage pertaining to your… detainment.”
"Detainment?" I said, incensed.
"The President appreciates your service to your country.”
JD and I had saved his life on a previous adventure. It was good to know that the good deed had not been forgotten.
"As a condition of your release, you will forget all about this incident. You are not to talk to the press, and you must stay away from Julian Ashby.”
"The guy’s a scumbag who tried to have me killed."
"We are aware of the situation. Julian Ashby will be dealt with in due time. For now, he is a valuable asset.”
My lips tightened, and I stifled an eye-roll.
Sterling asked again, "Do we have a deal?”
I didn't particularly like the terms, but it was better than sitting in this hellhole, or somewhere worse, for the rest of my life, however long or short that may be. "We have a deal."
"By the way, you just used your get out of jail free card. There won't be another. Are we clear?”
I nodded.
"If anyone asks, you and Mr. Donovan went on a fishing trip.”
I gave him an incredulous look. "And how exactly did I get this black eye?”
Sterling smiled. "You're creative. I'm sure you'll think of something."
Sterling gave a nod to the other goons, and they cut me loose. My arms were sore. The restraints had cut grooves in my skin. I rubbed my wrists and stretched.
"I'm sorry, but since this is an anonymous site, you'll have to be bagged on exit." Sterling nodded to the other operatives, and the dirty, wet bag was pulled back over my face. It smelled like blood, stale spit, and misery.
"Good luck, Deputy Wild," Sterling said in a sincere tone. "Stay out of trouble."
Two jackasses grabbed my arms and lifted me from the chair. It had been so long since I stood that I had almost forgotten how. My legs wobbled, weak from days of inactivity. Blood rushed to my brain. I felt woozy as they escorted me toward the door.
The goons marched me outside and tossed me into a van. Hazy shapes filtered through the bag. JD’s unmistakable silhouette came into view.
The cargo door rumbled shut. The goons piled in, and the driver put the van into gear. He peeled out of the lot and headed across town. The van wobbled and creaked as we twisted and turned through the streets.
Minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot at Diver Down. The goons pulled the bags from our faces, and the cargo door slid open. They all wore face coverings. I wouldn’t be able to identify them if I ever saw them again.
