Page 133 of Stone Coast

"I'm coming down," Shaw said.

Footsteps clanked against the metal companionway.

I kept my weapon aimed at the stairs.

Shaw made his way below deck, his silhouette backlit by light spilling down from above. He kept his hands in the air.

He was brave—I had to give him that.

"Keep your hands where I can see them, and don't make any sudden moves," I growled.

He stopped in his tracks and said, "You're the boss. I have a proposition for you. I think you might want to hear me out.”

After a long pause, I said, "I'm listening.”

"Ross was clearly out of control. Operating unsanctioned and without oversight.”

"Of course, you’re going to say that," I replied.

"It's the truth.”

"Do you people even know what the truth means?”

"I understand your frustration. Lines can get blurred. Things can get confusing in the fog of battle.”

"I'm not confused.”

“But Ross was. He was confused about his purpose. About his mission. About his morality. But you… You’re crystal clear."

"That might be a stretch.”

Nate laughed. "I'm trying to talk you up. Get on your good side. Is it working?"

"Not really. You need more training."

He laughed again. "You may be right." He paused for a second. "Ross had left the CIA when he recruited you. He was working completely off the books. You haven’t been working directly for us in quite some time.”

“It gave you plausible deniability,” I said, putting it all together.

“I want you to rebuild the section. Refocus the group back toits original purpose. Under your guidance, I think it could be a valuable unit."

"You want me to rebuild a hit squad?"

"Focus strictly on enemies of the state. No domestic operations.”

My first inclination was to sayhell no, but I bit my tongue.

"This is what you're trained for. It's what you're good at. You’d have complete operational control, and you would report directly to me.”

"How do I even know you are who you say you are?"

It was hard to see his expression in the darkness, but I think he smiled. He had dark hair, a square jaw, and was a well-built man in his mid-30s.

"I need to think about it," I said.

"I'm going to hand you my card," he said.

"Slowly,” I cautioned, still keeping the weapon aimed at him.