Very Special Agent Christen Strickland stared out over the bullpen of the Special Operations Unit of ISS, and it baffled her that two years had passed since her path crossed that of Moore and Lagerveldt. Their plan took much longer to achieve than they thought it would, but it put them in a unique position.

"Good morning VSA Strickland. You look pensive," Lagerveldt remarked.

She smirked without looking at the doctor.

"Just thinking it is hard to believe I've been here for two years, Colonel," Christen replied.

Although they were friends outside of these walls, inside them, it was a different story.

Their unit had grown from the four of them to twelve, and their record spoke for itself. From being outcasts, they were now a kind of elite team that the ISS allowed near autonomy.

They were at their most effective when following their obscure leads, and no one suspected them of being spies.

Although had taken some doing, the first few successful investigations exposed the hacker as a traitor and the senator for taking bribes to give contracts to contractors with cartel ties.

They uncovered a soccer mom selling unlicenced firearms to civilians, and a doctor who sold prescription narcotics laced with cocaine, proving themselves worthy of returning to ISS's Secret Operation Unit (SOU).

Christen still had no idea what the ISS's actual mandate was. The unit seemed to do whatever they wanted, and whatever agency's toes they stepped on just fell in line.

Both foreign and domestic agents fell under their purview, often sticking their noses in where they didn't belong, yet they operated without oversight by any official agency. Nor did they officially exist, but you could get out of all sorts of trouble by getting someone to call Director Weiss.

"Do we have a mission, Colonel?" she asked, and Lagerveldt nodded.

"Yes, we're to infiltrate a secure site with some military support and extract a hostage."

This was a little south of their usual purview but something they were trained to do.

She nodded.

"Get your gear from Stella and meet us at the helo pad," the colonel instructed.

***

Christen made her way down to the basement, and judging from the full assault gear, this would not be an easy operation.

Four other agents waited with the Colonel, but Deputy Director Moore was absent and had been for two days with him being in Washington getting briefed on some situation.

She nodded at the other agents and got into the helicopter without introducing herself.

Two hours later, they landed at an abandoned airfield. This type of thing was nothing new, and she knew better than to ask questions. If she needed to know something, Dana would brief her.

Twenty minutes passed before two humvees and a troop transport arrived with twenty geared-up marines, and a frown tugged at her brow.

This was not good; these men were Black Ops, and the leader, some Corporal, spoke to Lagerveldt briefly.

"Come," Lagerveldt ordered.

"We need all of your digital equipment," a major told them as they reached the transport.

Christen hid the watch in her pocket with a sleight-of-hand move that would have made Moore proud. With her now being able to take it off if she wanted, she didn't often, not with her being so used to wearing it and constantly needing its other perks.

Why was Dana so silent, and what was this about?

***

Four hours later, they were near Mexico, where a private plane took them over the border, and they parachuted down to some abandoned factory in the middle of nowhere.

No one spoke a word all the way there, and the further this mission went, the more she suspected this was far out of the usual, even for them.

They marched through the jungle for two hours and reached a bunker. Once inside, she blinked when she realized it was an entire military installation.

Christen and Lagerveldt glanced at each other; the Mexicans would go ballistic if they knew America had a military base on their soil.

"This place does not exist. You are not here, and you have never heard of it," the navy corporal instructed, and they nodded."Private Johnson will take you to a bunk. Get a shower and take a nap. The briefing will be in four hours."

A slight turn of Christen's head told her that cameras were everywhere, and she subtly alerted Lagerveldt to their presence.

It would not be safe to have a private conversation in this place.

***

Christen frowned at the communal shower, but tired, dirty, and getting irritated, she stripped and showered without saying a word. The other four agents were less happy but quickly realized they were being watched, and they surmised, just like her, that this was a test.

Lagerveldt didn't bat an eye. If she overheard correctly, the others were two former Feds, a policewoman, and an NCIS agent who were not used to such situations.

The bunk beds were in an open space, and there would be absolutely no privacy. They stowed their gear in a locker room, took what they needed, and made themselves comfortable. The troops accompanying them did the same, but only two seemed to be stationed there.

***

Christen slept for four hours and took another shower, and one of her new coworkers arrived just as she dressed, confirming that they were being watched.

"The Corporal said I should escort you to the mess hall."

Why did Lagerveldt's rank seem to have no meaning here? Inter-agency politics?

"Thank you."

She scarfed down eggs and bacon with the rest of the squad before they convened in a large room filled with whiteboards and media equipment.

"I am Corporal Williams, and this is our Preventative Measures Containment Unit. From this moment on, you are freelancers and have no ties with any government.

"If you fall into enemy hands, you will not reveal anything about yourselves. You do not work for anyone, and you know nothing. To ensure you have no problems with this, we will evaluate you over the next few days to garner your aptitude. The unit will not use you simply because you came highly recommended." His eyes focused directly on the ISS agents.

Why did she have a bad feeling about this?

"We will continue with the training mission to determine if everyone is up to scratch."

She glanced at Lagerveldt, but the Colonel's demeanor and vital signs revealed nothing.

***

Five days passed, and the team did well together. After dinner on the sixth evening, Christen rose to her feet, and the world tilted.

Had she been drugged?

Yip.

She woke less than half an hour later from a dose of something that would incapacitate a normal person for five to six hours, tied to a chair, and pretended to be out until the others started to stir.

Two soldiers tilted her chair and approached her with a piece of cloth and a gallon of water, and anger stirred in her veins.

Would Williams torture them to see if they would break under pressure?

Yes.

Without the watch, she could break free of the cable ties that numbed her hands but didn't, playing along and allowing them to see only what she wanted them to see. Even when they beat her up and electrocuted her. It helped that this wasn't her first turn at the races.

I could kill them all before they even knew what hit them. The thought soothed her as the electric current flowed through her, and she had to slow down her metabolism to prevent her wounds from healing.

None of them caved.

"Release them," Williams ordered—a glint of respect in his gaze.

They didn't speak as they showered before getting their wounds dressed. None of them had eaten in two days and dug into the tasteless provisions like hungry beasts but didn't look at each other or reveal their feelings.

Christen pitied the others; her body hurt even with her being so much more than them.

In how much pain were they?

Lagerveldt had a black eye, bruised jaw, chafe marks on her wrists, and bruised ribs, and her expression said that Williams would pay for this at some point.

"Meet me in the briefing room in twenty minutes," Williams said as they finished their meal, not giving them a moment to rest and recover.

***

"You did well, and I commend you for being the first group that had no fails. For the next two weeks, we will train you until your wounds have healed, and then we will introduce you to your mission. Dismissed," Williams instructed and left.

Christen and Lagerveldt glanced at each other, not sure how they got to be where they were or why. This place was so heavily shielded that not even Dana could reach her, and her HUD couldn't connect to the outside world.

Were they in over their heads?