Page 88 of Collateral Damage
Caleb is already inside. His massive frame leaning back in one of the chairs opposite the desk, long legs stretched out, one boot hooked over the other.
Zack moves behind the desk, his movements economical and precise. He taps the tablet’s glowing screen.
“Sure you’re up to this, boss,” Caleb says evenly.
“Run it,” I say.
Zack pulls the main board onto the wall screen. The blue light casts sharp shadows across his face.
“Military advisory stable. DoD consult on schedule,” Zack says, his Texas drawl clipped. “Caleb handled the scenario revisions.”
Caleb nods. “They were soft on recon discipline. Fixed it.”
“PSYOPS integration?” I ask.
“Rewritten,” he says. “They won’t trip over their own messaging this rotation.”
Zack shifts to the next file—active open ops. “Counterproliferation intel active. West Africa corridor. HUMINT feeds held steady. Compromised local asset cut loose. Target exploitation review for a joint task group—we sent recommendations. Two agencies weren’t happy.”
“Good. Means we’re doing something right,” I say.
With a smile, Zack moves on. “Bomb Threat Management in Chicago. Executive team engagement better than expected.”
“Accept,” I say. “I want a full review of their internal security before we sign.”
“Cyber division identified zero-day vulnerabilities in the grid,” Zack adds. “Closed before breach. No blowback. Yet. Clandestine aviation supported one overseas movement. Clean insertion. Clean extraction. Wheels down less than a minute.”
“And Jericho?” I ask.
“Perimeter stayed cold,” Zack says. “One drone sweep picked up a hobbyist about five miles out. Delilah launched one of ours and took him into a snowbank.”
Caleb snorts. “The kid was ticked.”
Zack winces. “His dad got it for him. Had to fork over for a new one.”
Hiding a smile, I shake my head, though the movement sends a spike of fire through my neck. “I’ll remind Delilah we’re not running a drone air force. Add it to operational expenses.”
Zack nods, amusement fading. “Security upgrades completed on the north fence line. Cameras recalibrated. No internal breaches.”
I let the silence sit, watching the board—the invisible architecture of a world most people never see. And wouldn’t handle well if they did see.
“Pro bono?” I ask.
Caleb answers that one, his posture softening. “Village security assessment overseas. Funded off advisory revenue. Axel helped them set up basic trauma protocols remotely.”
I nod, but my mind is elsewhere. Traveling down the halls, outside, to where Ava is, and what she’s learning about Jericho.
About me.
Caleb leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. “Scope’s growing,” he says. “You want to trim?”
I shake my head once. “We still go where the Lord leads. We still take what aligns.”
Caleb holds my gaze a second longer. “Does this mean we can all start bringing S.O.’s to Jericho?” he says quietly.
Zack’s gaze flicks toward me. They know what Ava’s presence means. I’m breaking my own rule.
“This is… an exception. Ava needs… debriefing.”
