Page 46 of Iron Shield
“Against who? Colorblind people?”
The Blackout Nova operator grinned. “Don’t be a hater, Romey. You could do with a bit of sun. Oh wait—you don’t get any up there in the mountains.”
Cannon took control of the meeting, and conversation died.
He tapped the screen in his hand and the display changed. A map filled the wall and every other Blackout screen. Red pins covered the country from north to south.
“What you’re looking at are every location where Echo weapons were seized, used in crimes, or confirmed through credible sightings. Every place Echo munitions have surfaced.”
Echo. The one team that wasn’t joining them today because only one man was left standing—Julian Chase—and he was now on Charlie. He aided in the capture of the man who killed his whole team, but they all felt the weight of the loss.
Rome studied the screen, trying to make out a pattern, but so far it only looked like the weapons hadn’t crossed the Mississippi and remained in the West.
Cannon replaced the map with a list of names. “Here’s where we start. These names all surfaced during the investigation into the Echo theft—arms dealers, traffickers and brokers with ties to the missing weapons. We split the names between the teams and question them.”
Rome and Rorke traded a look. “Question” was a loose term, especially in Cannon’s vocabulary. Their commanding officer was known for his borderline outlaw ways.
The teams broke off then, one by one, leaving the screens black and Sierra sitting alone in their war room.
Across the table, Rorke held Cannon’s gaze, his expression unreadable. For one taut second, it felt as though he were daring Cannon to say more.
Cannon pointed to the list. “This is where we find the answers.”
No one spoke for a moment. But it wasn’t the first time they picked up some undercurrent running between Rorke and Cannon.
There was never an argument. Never raised voices. Just the occasional look that hinted at a conversation no one else had been part of.
Finally, Cannon turned to Rome. “You’re up. Any traction on your research?”
Rome set his palms flat on the table. “Located the guy who sent the photo of Stina and Jolie.”
Several heads lifted.
“He’s been arrested and is being held by the FBI. So far, we only know he took the job through a local courier service in Chicago. He says he had no idea what he was delivering or who paid him.”
“Do we believe him?” Younger asked.
Rome shrugged. “We believe the guys who rammed our escort were hired online. I think the more interesting part is how the courier got paid.”
“Which was?” Monk asked.
“Crypto.”
O leaned back in his chair. “No trace.”
“Nope.” Rome closed that file and pulled up another. “Next, we have a shot of the guy who killed the agent guarding Stina.”
There was a rustle as the team planted their arms on the table or straightened in their seats.
He transferred an image to the large screen. Unfortunately, it was too blurry to give them much.
“We ran it through facial recognition this morning,” Rome said. “Came back with no hit.”
“I ran it through commercial OSINT software too.” Dante referred to the private system that could scrape publicly available images from social media, company websites and metadata. “Again, no match.”
Rome had been studying the man who attacked Stina’s protection detail behind the restaurant. “Even though the photo’s blurry, someone here might recognize him.”
Cannon gave the nod.
