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glass-walled conference room that could easily accommodate sixteen, took their seats quickly, and then all eyes turned to a pair of side-by-side monitors on the wall. A satellite linkup had been established with Tel Aviv and fed to one of the monitors, but until the commo people on the Israeli side of the connection gave the word that their attendee was on camera and ready, the screen just glowed blue. Next to this, a larger screen displayed an interactive map of the greater Washington, D.C., area.
    The responsibilities of those in the room represented some of the most secret departments and divisions within the CIA. Communications was there, as were the CIA employees charged with working with the National Security Agency, the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency, and the Joint Special Operations Command, the military’s most elite paramilitary fighting force. A CIA analyst sat across from a senior officer in the Department of Science and Technology. Jordan Mayes, assistant director of the National Clandestine Service, entered and sat to the left of the empty chair at the head of the table.
    Most of these officers had been on the Violator Working Group for years. It had taken them, both physically and virtually, to locations all over the world. But this was most assuredly the first time any of them found need to refer to a map of the local area in relation to the Gentry hunt.
    The one new face in the room was also the lone female. Suzanne Brewer was a thirty-nine-year-old Programs and Plans officer for the National Clandestine Service. She spent her days at CIA identifying and fortifying soft spots in Agency security protocols. She knew the name of every potential agent provocateur; she knew the details of threats against CIA personnel, every known operation targeting the Agency, every website that posted warnings to life and limb of intelligence officers all over the District. She wasn’t a spy herself, but she saw it as her mission to keep the spies of NCS safe from harm.
    Denny Carmichael marched in at eleven forty-five p.m., his brow pinched with purpose. DeRenzi was with him, and as Denny moved to his chair, his close protection officer took a position against the wall, present for the meeting in an observer capacity only. It was his job to keep his protectee safe from harm, after all.
    Denny dropped into his seat at the head of the conference table, facing the large monitors on the opposite wall. He turned first to Brewer. “Suzanne, you’re the odd man out here, if you will excuse the phrase. This is going to be a little out of your wheelhouse, but AD Mayes invited you in. Before I decide whether you are going to have code word access to the Working Group, I need to make a determination about your relevance to all this. What have you been told?”
    “Only that there is a potential threat to local CIA personnel, and I would be briefed in the meeting and asked for my preliminary assessment.”
    “I’ve read your file,” Carmichael said. “You’ve been solid in delicate situations. You’ve worked as a targeting officer as well as a counterterror officer, and you’ve excelled in both positions.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “But you haven’t run up against a situation as difficult or as delicate as this.”
    Brewer said, “I only ask for an opportunity to show you what I can do.”
    Carmichael turned to Mayes, and with a nod gave him the go-ahead to brief her.
    Mayes said, “Here’s the sitrep. A former Ground Branch paramilitary operations officer, code named Violator, has appeared suddenly in the United States. We think it’s likely he’s in the immediate area.”
    Brewer was confused. “And this former employee. He poses some sort of a threat?”
    Mayes just said, “His name is Courtland Gentry.”
    It was obvious to all that the name meant something to Suzanne Brewer. She blinked hard. “The Gray Man? You’re talking about the Gray Man?
Here?
”
    The reply was delivered in a biting tone. “We