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said.
    “My guess is bad,” Grace said.
    “I hope you’re right,” Holden said.
    “Me too,” Grace said.
    Grace lowered his binoculars and pulled his secure radio out of his combat vest and turned the dial to the frequency CIA Director Leighton had given him then punched in the secure identification number. Once the code was accepted he pressed the button that sent a signal to the Secret Service officers.
    He raised his binoculars and watched. The men on the porch maintained their positions.
    “We have movement inside,” Chip said. “Someone’s coming out.”
    The front door opened and another man in a suit came out onto the porch, a radio similar to Grace’s on his belt. Grace transmitted.
    “Secret Service detail this is your ride calling, do you read?”
    “We read you,” he could see the man talking into the microphone more than a hundred yards away, his eyes on the sky over the trees. “Why aren’t you wheels down by the house?”
    “There’s been some complications,” Grace said. “We had to ensure everything was secure on your end. We’re coming in on foot.”
    “The situation is secure now. We’ve had a casualty here. I’ll require further confirmation before I can allow you to approach,” the man was scanning the tree line.
    “Understood,” Grace expected the extra caution. He pulled a card from his vest with a series of letters Director Leighton had scribbled down. “Quebec. Uniform. Echo. Sierra. Tango. Three. Nine. Seven.”
    “Confirmed. Who am I speaking with?” the Secret Service officer said.
    “This is Grace. I’m with Homeland Security. I have a team here to extract the package. We’ll have a bird ready once we’ve cleared the area.” His cover as an NSA operator was to be protected. He carried credentials and badges for every government law enforcement organization including the CIA, FBI, Homeland Security and even INS. He’d use whatever he needed to get people to comply.
    “Move in slow. I’ll meet you,” the man said.
    Grace watched the man take the four steps off the porch and began walking into the field. His weapon remained on his side, the strap fastened.
    “I like this guy. He’s cautious but ballsy,” Grace said. “I’d have my gun out and ready to drop anyone if they blinked wrong.”
    “Maybe you should ask him out,” Levi said.
    “Not my type, too tall,” Grace said. “Okay, let’s move out. Standard spread, weapons lowered but ready. Look twice before you react, we don’t need any more blood on the ground than we already have.”
    Grace stepped out from behind the tree and started walking through the field. He didn’t need to turn his head to know that on his left was Levi thirty feet away and on his right were Avery and Holden with the same spacing. The man in the suit had come out to the middle of the field beside the house and stopped with his arms hanging wide away from his side to show he was not holding a weapon in his hands.
    The team stopped with Grace 20 feet from the man.
    “Grace?” the man said.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “I’m Special Officer James Foster.”
    “You in charge here?” Grace said.
    “I am,” Foster said. “We had an incident with one agent.”
    “Let me guess. He turned his gun on you or one of your men?” Grace said.
    The man’s head tilted.
    “Yes,” Foster said. “He pulled on me. I reacted quickly.”
    “You’re lucky. Or good. That’s been happening a lot lately,” Grace said. “I’m sure you’ve been watching the news.”
    “No cable, no antenna,” Foster said. “This is the secretary’s private residence and he doesn’t like to be disturbed by the outside world when he’s here.”
    “Shit. And nobody’s called you?” Grace said.
    “No. We’re on radio silence during the speech. We were supposed to be called back more than an hour ago. What’s going on? Where’s the detail that was supposed to come for us?” Foster said.
    “I hate to tell you, but you’re not just protecting the