Armed Response. Janie Crouch

was anything but.

      Jace had first met him ten years ago when they served together in the US Army Rangers in the Middle East. Working side by side with someone in daily life-or-death situations showed that person’s true colors. Ren McClement was one of the few people in the world Jace trusted without restriction. He knew the feeling was mutual. Which was why he was here now in this godforsaken seat in some out-of-the-way office in Washington, DC, rather than putting the finishing touches on his ranch in Colorado.

      “Ren, seriously, dude, you’ve got to get some chairs not built for midgets.”

      Both Ren and the other man in the room, Steve Drackett, chuckled. Ren had gotten out of the army not long after the time he spent in Afghanistan with Jace. Because of his skills and security clearance, Ren had immediately been brought into Omega Sector, a joint task force made up of the best agents the United States had to offer.

      Jace knew Ren was one of the highest-ranking members of Omega, and that he worked mostly in covert missions.

      Nothing surprising about that. Ren had had the ability to blend in with almost any situation even back in his Ranger days. That the government was smart enough to use him for clandestine work wasn’t surprising to Jace.

      What was a mystery to him was why Ren had asked him here to begin with. Although always happy to see his old friend, Jace was not an Omega Sector agent. He wasn’t an agent at all.

      “Yeah, budget for this place wasn’t very big,” Ren said. “Not that I’m in here enough to worry about that anyway.”

      Ren could probably have a very high-end government office with a million-dollar view of DC, but chose not to. Jace knew for a fact that Ren never entered a government building unless he had to, and even then it wasn’t through the front door. The undercover nature of his job prohibited it.

      “I can see why you wouldn’t want to be here often. And speaking of, why am I here? I’m assuming there’s a reason other than reliving old times.”

      Ren nodded. “We have a situation in the Omega Critical Response Division out in Colorado Springs. A mole who is leaking information to a terrorist named Damien Freihof. We know the mole is someone inside the SWAT team. Steve—” he gestured to the other man, who was leaning with one shoulder against the wall “—has requested that I send in someone I trust to help find the mole.”

      Steve pushed himself away from the wall and handed Jace a thin file with some papers inside. “We found this Manifesto of Change document hidden in one of our Omega computer servers.”

      On my honor, I will never betray my badge, my integrity, my character or the public trust.

      I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions.

      I will always uphold the constitution, my community and the agency I serve.

      Jace looked over at Ren, then Steve. “This looks like some sort of law-enforcement creed.”

      Steve nodded. “It’s the oath of honor that law enforcement officers take at their swearing-in ceremony. But keep reading.”

      We all took an oath to uphold the law, but instead we have allowed the public to make a mockery of it. Where is the honor, the integrity, the character in not using the privilege and power given to us by our training and station to wipe clean those who would infect our society? We were meant to rise up, to be an example to the people, to control them when needed in order to make a more perfect civilization.

      But we are weak. Afraid of popular opinion whenever force must be used. So now we have changed the configuration of law enforcement forever.

      And now, only now, will you truly understand what it means to hold yourselves accountable for your actions. Only with death is life truly appreciated. Only with violence can true change be propagated. As we build anew, let us not make the same mistakes. Let the badge mean something again.

      Let the badge rule as it was meant to do.

      Jace shifted slightly in his chair. “Okay, I’ll admit, this is scary. And I sympathize, I really do, that this has come from within your own organization, but I’m not an agent. There’s got to be other people you trust who could do a better job than I could.”

      Ren glanced over at Steve and then back at Jace. “We’re not looking for someone long-term. This is a time-sensitive op.”

      Steve nodded. “I would’ve bet my life that the traitor was not one of my SWAT team members. I’ve known most of those people for years. But intel has suggested that not only is the mole a member of SWAT, but also has a plan that will involve a massive loss of life.”

      “Do you have details about how? When?” Jace asked.

      Steve nodded. “Within the next two weeks. Our strong suspicions are that it has to do with a law-enforcement summit scheduled in Denver next week. It will have police chiefs and politicians in attendance from all over the country.”

      “That would definitely make a good target.” Jace looked back at Ren. “And if you need an extra hand with a rifle, I’m more than willing to help out, especially since I’m headed out to Colorado anyway.”

      “Still planning on breeding and raising dogs?” Ren asked. “Horses? Opening your ranch?”

      “Hey, don’t mock my dream.” Jace had always wanted to own a small parcel of land where he could raise animals, particularly dogs, that could be trained for service members and veterans who suffered from PTSD. Maybe even make it into a place where vets could come and enjoy space and quiet for a temporary stay when they needed it.

      Jace had made some savvy financial investments in his twenties that had given him the means to make this dream a reality now. He’d be able to cover himself financially until he was able to make a living from his business. He was looking forward to working outside, with the land and animals. He also looked forward to not having to be constantly worried about being in danger.

      Although risk cognizance had been a part of his life for so long it was second nature to him now.

      “I wouldn’t dream of mocking it.” Ren smiled. “Hell, I may be joining you before this is all over. But I was hoping you would help me out before you got out of the game for good.”

      “We don’t need an agent,” Steve said. “We just need someone who can come in and pass for a SWAT team member. Somebody who has the qualifications and physical prowess to join the team. Because of attacks by Damien Freihof, we’re down a couple of members, so bringing in someone from the outside wouldn’t be unheard of.”

      “And then once I’m in there?”

      “Then there’s one person particularly under suspicion who we need you to get close to.” Ren leaned forward on his desk, watching Jace closely. “Lillian Muir.”

      The name had Jace actually rising from his seat before he even knew it.

      “Lillian Muir?” He looked from Ren to Steve. “Lillian Muir is a member of the Omega Sector SWAT team?”

      “Not only a member, one of the best members. One of the most gifted SWAT personnel I’ve ever known,” Steve said.

      Jace began pacing back and forth behind the chair he’d just vacated.

      Lillian Muir.

      He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wondered what had happened to her over the years. He hadn’t seen her in twelve years, since he was twenty and she was eighteen. The day they were supposed to leave to join the army together, to get out of a pretty rotten living situation in Tulsa. To figure out their future together, which for Jace had always meant marriage as soon as he could talk her into it.

      He hadn’t seen her since the day he’d found her in his brother’s arms.

      Jace looked at Ren. “You know, of course, that Lillian and I have a history.”

      Ren nodded. “You and