ke P

ix City airport. Glas

y mother's

ch o

th a solid wa

zz

icity shot th

like molten gold. Cedar wood

nded. My inne

in

ze. "You,"

away. "I'

other. Instead of

Are you hu

ped. No. Tha

ominic Cannon. Alpha

ou are." Eas

irit," Dominic said. "B

ust an

survivor. And the 'Ghost Desi

es wi

need a Lead Tactician. Someone who

age. Dangero

e a black phone. "Encrypted.

The spark ju

," I

ed. "Welcome

aught my reflection.