Free Spy Thriller: The Fourteenth Protocol: A Story of Espionage and Counter-terrorism (The Special Agent Jana Baker Book Series 1) by Nathan Goodman

because that takes years of planning and Kyle was just that type of planner.
    Cade crossed into Virginia, glanced down at the GPS to see how far away his exit would be. Kyle was busy today, his last day of training before graduation, so Cade easily had time to check into his hotel in the Aquia Harbor area, not far from the Marine base at Quantico.
    The phone’s generic ringtone went off, and he glanced down at the incoming number; it was not a number he recognized. “A 678 exchange? But that’s the same exchange as the office. Crap, what the hell do they want? I’m on vacation.”
    “Hello, this is Cade.”
    “Williams? Rupert Johnston.”
    The car swerved. “Ah, yes, sir, Mr. Johnston.” Cade had no idea what this was about. His mind scrambled back to the screaming sirens and popping strobe lights. Yes, he was sure he had booked today on his calendar as being out of office.
    “Williams, look, know you’re out today but wanted to let you know of a change that hits you on Mundee mornin’.” Johnston’s accent came through clearer than ever. Perhaps it surfaced when his guard was down, or perhaps in talking to Cade, he had no one to impress. “See, you’ll be workin’ up here on seventeen from now on. Just didn’ wan’ you comin’ to the wrong floor come Mundee.”
    Cade was shocked. “Ah, well, okay . . . ah, sir? Um, what, I mean, ah, how did this come up? I didn’t know I’d be transferred anywhere.”
    “Well, don’t worry about it, son. We need someone up here with skills like you got, and since you already been up here and know the lay o’ the land and all. Well, we figured you would be the best. Congratulations, this is a step up,” finished Johnston.
    Cade was trying to wrap his head around this. “Oh, ah, thank you, sir. Um, sir? Are you sure I’m the right guy—I mean man—for the job? I mean, um, I was a little uncomfortable up there, what with all the sirens and flashing lights and stuff.”
    “Oh them? Oh don’ worry yourself too much about them. We hardly ever have nothin’ like that happen. And don’ worry about those assholes none neither. They’s a bunch a blowhards. You just git on up here come Mundee, and we’ll be just fine.”
    Johnston hung up. Cade lowered the phone to his side and stared straight ahead, his face vacant. It was a moment before he realized he hadn’t even hung up the call. He shook his head. “Great, I move from the Disney World of server farms over to a nuclear submarine at DEFCON 4. Wonderful.”
    He drew in some deep breaths to try to relax. He wasn’t supposed to have to do deep breathing exercises or yoga or anything on vacation. Vacations were supposed to induce the relaxation without all the effort. A short time later, he pulled off the little back road of Highway 1 and followed the signs for Quantico Marine Corps Base. He was a little hungry and checked his phone, looking for a restaurant that had customer reviews that were slightly above death sentences. He followed the map up to a little house-looking place called Bella Café. There were several cars in the parking lot, which stood right next to a tacky place that sold outdoor pools. Inside though, the restaurant was lively. A guy playing guitar sat in the far corner and faded photos of customers littered the wood plank walls. Cade needed to wake up after all that driving. Mixed into the middle of the chalkboard menu full of gyro sandwiches, burgers, and chicken wraps, Cade’s eye stopped. Lobster Bisque.
    “Well, there it is. The reviews raved about the Lobster Bisque. How good could lobster bisque be in a place like this?” he laughed. “Ah, yes, ma’am, I’ll have a cup of the bisque, and a large coffee please.” She tilted her head at him for just a second, thinking it to be an odd combination of bisque and beverage.
    “I’ve been on the road,” he said, “just need a little caffeine.” She smiled and disappeared into the back. Cade stood for a minute waiting to pay. The