Page 25 of Iron Willed Warrior

“Right, Arizona. That’s good.” I rubbed my hands together, wishing I had gloves. “I grew up in Idaho, but I’m not used to the cold anymore.”

There was a sign at the end of the street for a pub. Brynn tilted her head toward it. “Want to go in? Looks like they’ve got a fire going, and they’re open late.”

“I’m not a shivering flower. You don’t have to rescue me.” My lips slid into a smirk.

She pushed my shoulder toward the pub door. “Just go inside. I’m cold too. I don’t have a cigarette to keep me warm.”

This place was far quieter than the lively spot on Main Street where Dean worked. It looked like a converted house. A maze of small rooms, shadowed corners. Flames crackled in a fireplace. Candles flickered on tables, and couples huddled together at the bar. The vibe was pure romance.

I looked at her. She looked at me.

Brynn chose a back room that was otherwise empty. She sat at a tiny, circular table that was hardly big enough for just me, let alone the both of us. Which meant we were huddled together, knees knocking as we maneuvered for space. One of her legs wound up between mine.

We took off our coats, and a server came by. “Kitchen’s closed, but the bar’s open another hour. What can I get you?”

We both ordered sodas. We’d had enough whiskey. The moment the server was gone, I took out my phone and looked up Garon Westwick.

His photo came up at the top of the search results. A man around forty—my age—with sandy blond hair and a wholesome smile, arm around his wife on one side and a couple of teenage daughters on the other. Westwick was a middle-class kid who’d taken some early luck in the stock market and rolled it into a huge investment portfolio. He was a rising star in the business world.

“Known for bringing a kinder, gentler perspective to investing,” I read from the guy’s bio on Wikipedia. “This is the head of Stillwater? An organization that haunts the dark web and helps child traffickers make a buck?”

“I know, hard to believe.” Brynn had scooted her chair closer so she could read along with me.

“Nah, I think the opposite. Figures he’d seem like Mr. Perfect. Hypocrisy doesn’t surprise me.” It disgusted me though. Made me all the more determined to see this guy brought down.

I barely noticed when the server dropped off our sodas. Neither of us touched them. If Brynn was like me, that whiskey wasn’t sitting so well in her stomach anymore. Especially when I scrolled back up and looked at Westwick’s picture again. His daughters. Their pretty blond hair and bright smiles, like they believed the world was a generous place, and they had nothing but happiness ahead of them.

Meanwhile, Westwick was helping ensure that other people’s daughters vanished and never found their way home.

I had to lean back in my seat and stare at the ceiling a moment.

“He doesn’t have a very high profile yet,” Brynn said. “But from everything I can tell, his influence is growing. At the same time, Stillwater is growing too. They want to expand beyond this region. They’re already recruiting moles inside the government more broadly. Foreign countries too.”

That much, I already knew. “I’m aware they operate outside the states.”

“I can show you the other evidence the task force has compiled. If you want to assess it yourself.”

“Not necessary.” I had no doubt River and the Protectors had paid close attention to the evidence before giving the go ahead on this op. What I wanted to know was the when and the where.

How long did I have to wait to get my hands on this guy? A week wasn’t soon enough. Yet also, it wastoosoon. Ops like this took time to prepare.

I put my phone down on the table. “So we’re posing as resort guests? Attending this seminar?”

“Exactly. We’re entrepreneurs who want to rub elbows with Westwick and learn from his success.”

I tasted bile in my mouth. “What’s the plan?”

“River’s going to provide me with a flash drive loaded with some kind of virus. Once we upload it to any one of Westwick’s devices, River and his hacker friends will be able to use it to get inside Stillwater’s digital operation.”

I was no computer expert, but I could imagine how that would go. Stillwater was decentralized. Very few people understood the total picture of their operation. As its chief, Westwick would have that bigger picture. Unfettered access. He would want it at his fingertips, so his devices would hold the key.

“Once they’re inside his digital world,” Brynn went on, “River’s hacker network will take over. Gather all the proof they need and dismantle Stillwater’s organization from the inside. River says it’s a playbook he’s run before, though not quite on this scale. They’ll be able to set up stings to arrest Stillwater’s major players and lieutenants from the top down. And they’ll drop a bomb of evidence on the media and law enforcement, all anonymous and with no ties to the FBI.”

“And how long will all of that take?”

“That part isn’t up to us. You know how it is.”

Sure I did. How many times had I been the guy receiving orders without knowing the endgame, or when it would come? But I wasn’t in the Army anymore.

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