Elias Mercer.
Missing in orbit.
God.
Ryan didn’t even know yet.
I pulled out my phone.
No signal.
That stopped me cold.
Country clubs outside Columbus did not suddenly lose cell reception coincidentally.
General Hale saw my expression.
“You too?”
I nodded once.
The SUVs parked slowly near the entrance.
No hurry.
Professional.
Disciplined.
Not federal.
Nathan laughed awkwardly.
“You two are acting like we’re in a spy movie.”
Then the first man stepped out.
Tall.
Gray suit.
Military posture hidden beneath civilian clothing badly enough that only trained eyes would notice.
I recognized him instantly.
And my blood went completely cold.
Director Adrian Shaw.
Defense Intelligence Agency.
One of the most dangerous men in Washington.
General Hale muttered under her breath.
“Why is he here personally?”
That terrified me more than the SUVs.
Men like Adrian Shaw never traveled personally unless something had already gone catastrophically wrong.
My father looked confused.
“You know him?”
Unfortunately.
Shaw walked across the patio with calm confidence while conversations around us died again one by one.
He stopped directly beside our table.
“General Hale.”
“Director.”
Then his eyes shifted toward me.
“Colonel Whitmore.”
I straightened automatically.
His gaze moved briefly to my father.
Interesting flicker there.
Assessment.
Calculation.
Then back to me.
“We need to move immediately.”
“Why?”
Shaw reached inside his jacket.
Half the patio stiffened instinctively.
Instead of a weapon, he removed a photograph.
He handed it directly to me.
The second I saw it, my stomach dropped.
Satellite imagery.
Blurry but unmistakable.
An impact site.
In Arizona.
Burn marks stretching through desert rock.
And standing near the wreckage—
A human figure.
Alive.
My pulse hammered.
“Elias?”
Shaw’s voice lowered.
“We believe Commander Mercer survived reentry.”
Relief hit so hard it almost hurt.
Then Shaw continued.
