CHAPTER ONE


Volos, Greece


Theo's face was twisted in a scowl, his displeasure evident as he sat on the hood of the battered 2024 Camry. The once bright red paint was now a patchwork of scratches and dents, evidence of its rough journey. The wheels were so badly misaligned that one tire seemed to be tilting awkwardly. Inside the car, the familiar sounds of Dirty Deeds by AC/DC played on an endless loop, adding to Theo's frustration. And to top it all off, CIA Officer John Royce stood casually against the nearby wall, flanked by three stern-faced local Greek Police Officers.

Royce waved a dismissive hand towards the beat-up car. "This is fine!" he exclaimed with a grin. "We always return our rental cars like this. It's practically company tradition!"

Officer Kate Riley let out an exasperated sigh and turned to speak with the police officers in their native Greek tongue. She needed a moment to collect herself before addressing Royce and his laid-back attitude towards the situation.

Theo, the harried manager of the car rental agency, let out a strained sigh as he pulled at his hair in frustration. The brand new rental vehicle he had just given to Royce was now smoking and sputtering under the hood, its once pristine exterior now marred with dents and scratches. Noticing Kate talking to some officers nearby, Theo assumed she was addressing him and responded with a distracted "Sure!" in Greek. Meanwhile, Kate led Royce away from the commotion, around the corner of the rental agency building.

Concern etched across her young, slender face, Kate asked, "Were you being chased or something? What happened to the car?" At twenty-five years old, she was not the typical troublemaker one might expect to take a rental for a joyride. Instead, she found herself questioning Royce, an American diplomat by title, but unofficially known as a Non-Official-Cover Operative for the CIA, on why he was treating the rental car with such little regard.

"I just wanted to make sure I wasn't followed," Royce offered as an explanation, though it sounded more like a question.

A mischievous glint sparked in Kate's bright blue eyes as she replied with a wink, "Ah, seeing Cora again, were you?" Her freckled face creased into a playful grin as she teased Royce about his supposed rendezvous.


In turn, Royce blushed and looked away. 


Royce ran his hands through his dark black hair, frustration evident on his face. "Her handler was five cars behind us. I had no reason to be with her other than wanting to spend time." He spoke quickly, explaining the situation to Kate.

"That's good," Kate replied coolly, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Okay. That warrants the ability to pay for the car using American Tax Dollars. We'll send an official notice to their agency. We'll just leave out that you were using our company rental to bang Cora." She smirked at Royce before turning to Theo, the car rental manager.

"I'll cover the damages," she said smoothly in Greek, handing over a company card with a United States Embassy Services title on it. Royce glared at her but she simply shrugged it off.

As Kate stepped away, her cell phone rang and she tapped her earpiece to answer. "Officer Riley."

"Are you at the embassy?" The station chief's voice came through the line, sounding angry.

"No, sir. I'm - in the field," Kate responded calmly as she glanced back at the damaged car and Theo happily charging the U.S. taxpayers around thirty thousand dollars for it. "Is there anything I can do for you, Jeff?"

"Can you get to a television?" 

Kate sighed and made her way into the store, motioning for Theo to turn on the TV hanging in the corner of his lobby. "What channel?" she asked.

"Doesn't fucking matter..." Jeff's voice trailed off as he explained why he needed her to watch the news coverage. Kate felt a knot form in her stomach as she watched the events unfold on screen, knowing that this could potentially lead to another dangerous mission for her team at the embassy. 





Kate straightened her suit and adjusted her tie, a nervous habit she couldn't seem to shake. Her eyes were glued to the TV screen, where images of Cyprus engulfed in flames flashed by. 

Her breath caught in her throat as she whispered a Greek curse under her breath, "O Skata..." The chaos and destruction on the screen was almost too much to bear. 

"O Skata ontos!" Her station chief echoed, his voice filled with equal parts shock and urgency. Indeed, this was a shitshow. 

"What do you need me to do?" Kate asked, trying to keep herself calm and focused. 

"You need to get on a flight to Israel. The 77th is already there and you'll receive further orders once you touch down." His words were clipped and decisive, a reminder that they needed to act quickly in the face of this crisis.


Ramat David, Israel



Captain Bryan “Skimmer” Holland sat back in his Viper, the smooth leather seat molding to his body as he fiddled with the controls. His frustration was palpable as he attempted to fix his malfunctioning Sniper Pod, which refused to cooperate. Suddenly, a voice crackled through his headset, informing him that he wouldn't be landing anytime soon.

“Lackluster 1-1 to Ramen… What’s up with all this extra stuff on Data Link I’m seeing here? What is that? A party?” The captain leaned closer to the multifunction display, which showed several bogies over a hundred miles out to the North.

“Ramen, Lackluster 1-1, you know what we know, tactically… Just escort that bird in and stay on station. We’re going to tighten your leash however… Sixty Miles around the town from Bullseye if that’s good for you, Captain.”

Skimmer adjusted his flight path and joined into a finger-four formation with a C-135 cargo aircraft coming from Greece. As they flew over the countryside, he caught movement through the front windows. Was that a young woman in a suit? He couldn't be sure, but he shook off the thought and focused on his mission. Skimmer tapped his transmit key to confirm his orders.




“Lackluster 1-1, Ramen, how about what non-tactically you know going on? I feel like a kid that can’t ride his tricycle around the block without getting grounded. And I see another squadron of Green IFF’s flying in from who-knows where and that’s obviously a carrier coming in. I recognize those NAVY people. The bay is filling up with birds.” 




Skimmer's eyes were glued to the Multi-Function Display (MFD) as Data-Link showed him a flurry of activity. He shifted his gaze over his right shoulder and saw another squadron of F-16s in the distance, not belonging to his task force. The tension in the cockpit was palpable as they flew over the Israeli coast together.

"The news doesn't look good," Skimmer heard the voice through his headset talking to him. "Keep an eye on those bogies a hundred miles north and make sure they don't come any closer. If they do, we'll have to give you some more...spicy tasking orders. But let's hope things stay calm for a while."

With a heavy sigh, Skimmer returned his attention to scanning the horizon for any potential threats. The crisp scent of ocean salt mixed with fuel permeated the air inside the cockpit, adding to the already heightened sense of alertness. The rhythmic hum of the jet engines provided a steady backdrop to the tense situation at hand. Skimmer clenched his jaw, ready for whatever came next.