Rodrigues put the lid back on the pot of chili and wiped his forehead. He still had four hours before his dinner date arrived, but the secret to his chili was in the simmering time. He was going to make this night perfect. He hadn’t been on a date in months, and he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Cindy McDonald unless they had a “real” date. She had more than established that.

  I’ve got time for a good workout and a nap before it’s ready, he thought.

  He was halfway to the bedroom when the doorbell rang.

  Rodrigues grabbed his .45 from the cubbyhole by the front door. He wasn’t expecting trouble, but paranoia was part of his job. He looked through the peephole and saw a familiar uniformed man.

  “Son of a bitch,” he whispered. The Eagle.

  He opened the door.

  “Afternoon, Rodrigues,” the Eagle said. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course, sir.” Rodrigues braced to attention as the Eagle entered.

  “At ease, soldier.” The Eagle sniffed the air, then headed straight to the kitchen. He lifted the lid off the chili pot and inhaled.

  “Fantastic,” he said. “Do you mind? I haven’t eaten.”

  “Well, I … no, Colonel. I made plenty.”

  The Eagle rummaged around and grabbed a bowl and spoon. “I’m afraid your date with Agent McDonald tonight has been canceled. Shame. She’s a beautiful girl.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  What the hell? The Eagle never went out in public. Now here he was, alone, in the home of DSSA’s most powerful damper—arguably the most dangerous place he could be. But it wasn’t as if the Eagle was helpless without his powers. The Beretta M9 on his hip wasn’t there for show. He’d been a soldier long before he became a god.

  “Did you have more questions about the incident in Texas, sir?” Rodrigues said.

  “No. This is about something else.” The Eagle sat down at the dining room table. “Grab a bowl,” he said.

  Rodrigues did as he was told. The Eagle took a bite and made a face.

  “Bland,” he said. “Needs more chili powder. And it could stand to simmer a little longer.”

  “Uh … that was the plan, sir,” Rodrigues said.

  “Ah, well. Can’t be helped. We don’t have time to let things simmer.” He slid a folder across the table. “This is the latest report from one of my spies out West.”

  Rodrigues scanned it. His eyebrows went up. “Cloudcroft?” he said.

  The Eagle nodded and took another bite of chili.

  “This ‘mayor,’” Rodrigues said. “Adrian Wiley. Never heard of him.”

  “An alias,” the Eagle said. “You might remember him as Adrian Thibault. Worked for the CIA back in the ’90s.”

  Rodrigues frowned. “That nutcase? He should have been terminated after that debacle in Colombia.”

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  “For what it’s worth, I agree with you. But I wasn’t in charge back then. Since the Event he’s been out west building a network that rivals my own. He’s got quite an operation going on. Uranium mining, mostly. The good stuff, high grade. We get the uranium and a lot of good information about the separatists, and we don’t ask questions.”

  “But you have spies in place to answer those questions for you, sir?”

  “Of course. I’m under no illusion that he’s loyal to the country. Until now, it’s been easier to keep him in place and pay him off. This latest information changes the situation.”

  Rodrigues set the folder down and whistled. “Our friends Daniels and Unglesby again—and a new player. A healer. Where did he come from?”

  “Don’t know, don’t care. I’m more concerned about whether Wiley has his hands on Teri Darby. She is the top priority.”

  “Your agent didn’t mention her.”

  “Which means absolutely nothing. Either she’s dead and those two are on the run, or she’s hiding—or maybe she and Wiley have been working together all along.”

  “That would be bad, sir. That would mean ...”

  “That she delivered Daniels and Unglesby to him. It’s possible. But we shouldn’t ignore other scenarios. The only thing I know for sure is that Wiley is hiding things from me. I spoke to him yesterday and he didn’t mention any of this. He’s withheld information from me before but nothing this big. So let’s game this out. If we assume he doesn’t have Darby, where does that put us?”

  “It depends, sir. Is it possible he’s figured out he has Ezekiel Daniels?”

  “Doubtful. He’s got no reason to suspect the teke who showed up on his doorstep is the boogeyman. We’ve been blasting out stories about how Daniels took over New Frontier and is leading the war on America. With that and the Hines assassination dominating the news cycle, no one talks about anything else.”

  “You’re right, sir,” Rodrigues said. “Even if he walked up and introduced himself, I doubt anyone would believe it. I’ve lost track of the number of false ‘Ezekiels’ people have turned in to DSSA this week alone.”

  The Eagle nodded. “It was Greenly’s recommendation that we not release photos from our security video at Fort Bravo. He was right—it’s easier to sell people on the boogeyman if no one knows what he looks like. We can blame Daniels for pretty much anything we want to right now. Our people hate him, the separatists hate him … and if he dies, we cover it up and keep on blaming him.”

  “The ultimate straw man,” Rodrigues said. “So if Wiley doesn’t know who he is …”

  “It buys us a little time, maybe. Maybe not. They’re major league talent so he’ll court them no matter who they are. If they decide to play nice with him, it shifts the balance of power significantly.”

  Rodrigues frowned. “What assets does he have, sir?”

  “Aside from his own abilities, he’s got a pet damper and a number of other minor talents working for him. He’s been trying to get ahold of a mentalist for a while now. I’ve been able to keep that from happening, but now that he may have Darby ...” He frowned. “That goddamned damper keeps me from seeing what the hell is going on in there. I’m not used to that, and I don’t like it.”

  Rodrigues closed the folder. “We can be inconvenient that way, sir.”

  The Eagle finished his chili and pushed the bowl away. “With so little information, I can’t go charging in there and set things straight, no matter how much I want to.”

  “Definitely not, sir. I’m sure Wiley would love to get his hands on you, too.”

  The Eagle laughed. “He wouldn’t enjoy it for long. But yeah, I’m too important to risk.”

  “So you’re sending me.” Rodrigues chuckled. “What resources do I have, sir?”

  “Whatever you can pack in the next …” He checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes. You can requisition whatever weapons, supplies, and transportation you need, but you’re on your own once you hit the ground. This is a one-man mission.”

  “No backup, sir? Are you sure that’s the best plan of action?”

  The Eagle stared off into space. “I can’t trust anyone else with this. Not even Mindy knows. Darby can do things I didn’t think were possible. Things I can’t do.”

  The chili in Rodrigues’ stomach did a flip. “You really think she’s alive, don’t you, sir?”

  “I do. I’m trying to imagine somebody killing me with bombs. I can’t see it. And let’s not forget, she’s smarter than I am.”

  “But …” Rodrigues stopped.

  “Say what’s on your mind, soldier,” the Eagle said.

  “Well, if all that’s true, what chance do we have? Sir.”

  “We’ve got experience and we’ve got resources. And we need to stop her before she has them, too.” The Eagle wiped his mouth with the tablecloth and stood. “The world’s gone to shit. Civil war, foreign powers meddling in our affairs and poaching American afflicted—and kids running around with enough power to destroy the whole country. I don’t know if we can stop her or not—but if we can it’s got to be now and it’s got to be you, because without her powers she’s just a little girl.”

  “Yes, sir,” Rodrigues said.

  The Eagle headed for the door. “Get out there and fix this, Eddie. I don’t want to have to deal with this again.”