Chapter Five: Langley Shakes

Six years earlier, Ethan Kane's death file had gone into the highest compartment. His death had allowed many people to relax and a few people to grieve. Now a dead man had returned with a fifty-million-dollar bounty and was walking straight toward the wound the American intelligence system least wanted opened. Several floors above, Caleb Rourke entered a windowless conference room. He wore a dark blue suit, his silver hair perfectly combed. Congress liked him. The press trusted him. Presidential staffers called him the adult in the national security room. He read the brief and did not look surprised. "Lock internal searches," Rourke said. "Anyone querying Ethan Kane, Ghost, or Nightglass has access frozen immediately."