I could be in a warm bed with my wife right now.

That thought kept running through Steve's mind as he shivered in the morning cold. The sun had barely risen and a chilly, wet mist had settled over the woods. It might be Georgia, but it was still damn cold. And to make it worse, every time he tried to move around to stay warm, his hunting buddy scowled at him and told him to stay still.

Steve glanced across the hunting blind at Deakins, who was crouched next to a railing, his rifle gripped loosely in two hands. They had been here for nearly an hour, and other than telling Steve not to move around, Deakins had said nothing.

It was baffling. It was Deakins who had suggested Steve come hunting, who had shown up at the cabin at the ungodly hour of 4:30 a.m., and who had told Jethro, Bubba, and the other men in their group to take the other blinds. Steve and Deakins were now in the stand farthest from the lodge and at least a half-mile away from any of the other hunters.

So either he wants a private chat or he plans to shoot me, Steve thought. It was not particularly comforting that Deakins had shown no apparent interest in talking. Steve started to stomp his feet again, but stopped himself before he got another rebuke from Deakins. Instead, he raised his rifle and looked through the scope at the deer trail just below their hiding spot. Nothing was moving down there, so Steve set the gun back down and turned toward Deakins.

"Seriously, dude, you spend all your time running around the world shooting guns, and this is how you spend your free time?"

Deakins said nothing, but Steve noticed the way the other man's hand slid along the barrel of his rifle.

"So you're not gonna answer," Steve said, deciding it was time to end the hunting charade. "All right. I won't bother with the small talk, dude. But if you're going to bring me out here to shoot me, would you just do it already? At least, that way I won't freeze my ass off first."

"I ain't gonna shoot ya, Johnson," Deakins replied. "I worked too dang hard gettin' ya out of that camp alive to kill y'all now."

Steve eyed him. "Well you obviously don't want to talk to me. So why did you drag me out here? I mean-"

"Why? Don't ya have a lick of common sense?" Deakins cut Steve off. "What in God's name are y'all doin' here? Y'all have any idea the trouble this could cause?"

Steve narrowed his eye. "I think you know why I'm here. . . ."

"That ain't the point," Deakins snapped. "Ya don't think people don't know who y'all are? Y'all's just lucky my kin don't watch CNN. I don't know how they didn't recognize y'all - or the little lady. Ain't like they didn't have her picture on the news all the time. That kidnapping was big news."

"So what's the big deal if they recognized Kayla?"

"Y'all just don't get it, do ya?" Deakins asked.

Steve shook his head. "I guess I don't. All I know is that there's a man in Salem who could spend his life in prison, and you and your unit could clear his name."

Deakins did not answer at first. He looked away, staring across the railing for a minute. "We got orders," he said.

"ISA?"

Deakins shook his head. "Top brass. Told us all together, and then pulled me aside. Some JAG colonel. Says it don't matter the mission's gone public; thing's still classified."

Steve set his gun against the railing and crossed his arms. "So you're just going to let Donovan take the fall? The dude saved your life. Or don't you remember him taking out that guy who had you dead to rights and then carrying you out? Remember that guy? I think you called him 'Spooky.'"

"I remember jes fine," Deakins snapped. He rose to his feet. "It ain't that easy."

"No?" Steve asked. "Why not? How hard is it to tell the truth?"

Deakins stared at Steve. "Ya think that's all it is? Try five years in Leavenworth, not ta mention my wife and kids losing base housing and havin' nothin' ta live on." Deakins shook his head. "How do I tell 'em that daddy's gotta go away for years? How do I sacrifice them for ol' Spooky?"

Steve did not say anything. He remembered Shane saying the soldiers could go to jail. Steve had just hoped Shane was wrong; it was so hard to believe a soldier could go to jail just for telling the truth. "The colonel tell you that? That you'd go to jail for five years?"

Deakins nodded, then heaved a sigh. "Y'all kin tell Spooky I wanna help ya, but. . . ."

"Don't worry," Steve said. "He understands. Shane didn't even want me to come looking for you."

Deakins raised an eyebrow. "He didn't?"

"No," Steve replied. "He told me he didn't want you swapping places with him. Said he couldn't ask you to go to jail in his place. . . ." Steve shook his head angrily. "It's still not right."

"We can agree on that," Deakins said, looking down. "None of this is right." They sat in silence for a few moments until Deakins asked, "How's the man doin'? Ah heard 'bout him gettin' shot."

Saving my ass - again. The thought came unbidden to Steve. "It was bad, but it looks like he'll recover most of the way."

"Spooky must done be one of the luckiest fellas ever." Deakins grimaced as he looked back up. "I mean . . . not 'bout the charges. He jes seems ta have nine lives. He coulda easily bought it 'fore we found ya."

That was news to Steve. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't he tell ya?" Deakins sounded surprised. "He took the full hit off'n some grenade. Didn't expect him ta get back up, but he shore did. And then we pulled his fat outta the fryer in-" Deakins cut himself short. "Sorry, can't talk 'bout that."

"You mean Iraq? Shane told me," Steve said.

Deakins' eyes widened. "Didn't expect that. So y'all knows 'bout him getting his head bashed in. Fella was willin' ta just stand there and let the ole' Iraqis blow him away jes to keep 'em away from that other fella. But then those darn spooks are crazy mofos."

Steve was not really sure what Deakins meant. Shane had not told him the details of whatever happened in Iraq, but it did not sound much different from what happened in the aircraft hangar.

"Aww, it's prob'bly all some spook trick," Deakins said. "Y'know . . . . Make a show of things. Have a trial. A few weeks later, ol' Spooky'll prob'bly get pardoned or get a new name and home."

If only that were true, Steve said to himself. "I don't think so. Donovan's not that good an actor. He thinks the only deal is to go to jail for a few years and then get banned from the U.S."

Deakins rolled his eyes. "Ya'd think them ISA folks woulda have more sense, but then Spooky seems ta be the only one a them with a clue. At least, his jobs were a success."

"What does that mean?" Steve said.

"Meanin' he got that fella outta Iraq and he got y'all outta that compound." Deakins shook his head. "That was one FUBAR job. Y'all's the only thing we got right. . . . Bad intel, bad target."

Steve shook his head. "'Bad target'? I'm not following. I was the target."

"Yeah. . . . The secondary target."

For a moment, it seemed like the forest went completely silent. Steve stared at Deakins. Secondary target. That was what Steve thought Deakins had said. "Wait. . . ." Steve tried to process that. "'Secondary target'? What do you mean - 'secondary target'?"

Deakins set his gun down across the slats that formed the base of the hunting blind. Standing, he walked over to the railing and looked out at the woods.

"Damnation. . . ."

Steve was starting to understand. "You mean I wasn't the only target?"

"Nope," Deakins answered. "Hell, we all only found out 'bout y'all a few days 'fore the job. I always figured they got some last-minute intel and figured we mighta well have a secondary objective."

Steve took a deep breath. "A 'secondary objective'? That's what I was?"

"Ya think they'd send us in for one guy? Maybe if he'd got state secrets." Deakins looked at Steve suspiciously. "Ya don't got state secrets, do ya?"

"No. . . ." I don't have state secrets. "So . . . so how long did you prepare for the mission?"

Deakins seemed to think a little. "I'd say 'bout a month - a month 'fore Spooky showed up and we got told 'bout the secondary objective."

"So you were going into the compound no matter what?"

Deakins nodded. "Course we were." Then he frowned a little. "Maybe Spooky don't got a clue after all. I know we were told ta only talk about the secondary objective with him, but still. . . ."

"No. . . . Shane definitely didn't know. Still doesn't." Steve thought for a few minutes. It was all planned from the start and then they brought Shane in. But why? If the ISA was already sending in the soldiers, why did they even need Shane? And why did they make Shane think the mission was only because of his decision?

Steve turned away and put both hands on the railing as everything suddenly fell into place.

"Shane was their scapegoat," Steve said. "The perfect cover in case something went bad or word got out. He thought he was making the call and that's why he's willing to take the blame, but the call had nothing to do with him."

From behind him, Deakins said, "Sounds like y'all got played. . . . But I guess that's the spook business. Whaddya call it? Plausible deniability."

Steve raised a hand and pushed his hair back. It was a set-up from the start. And Shane fell for it. "Those son's of bitches." He turned his head back to Deakins. "What was your primary objective?"

"Guess there's no point in not tellin' ya," Deakins said. "Some buildin' in the middle of the place."

"The lab," Steve said. "Yeah . . . I know about that."

There was another silence. Deakins took a few paces to the edge of the blind and then turned back to face Steve. It was clear that the man was conflicted.

"I can't say I like what's goin' on," Deakin said. "Spooky don't done deserve none of this."

"But you can't testify for him," Steve added. "I get it. But the real truth is you won't testify. You can't really think the ISA will come down on you if you and your team testifies. They can't take that political heat."

Deakins shook his head. "They're lettin' Spooky go down and I'll betcha he knows where a lot of bodies are buried."

Steve responded with his own shake of his head. "You can think that, but the ISA knows Shane won't tell anyone where they are. So it doesn't matter what he knows; he's too much of a true believer to tell anyone."

And that's what Tarrington's been counting on all along.

"Ya mean, the ISA is countin' on Spooky to keep his mouth shut no matter what?" Deakins seemed to ponder that for a moment. "I guess they's countin' on me an' the others ta do the same thing."

Steve nodded. "Those bastards have no loyalty to their own people, but they're betting on Shane and you guys being loyal to them."

Deakins was silent for a moment, then looked at Steve. "What about you? We got ya outta that camp and now ya want me ta risk my career and family for Spooky?"

Steve looked down. Asking Deakins to testify had been a lot easier in the abstract. "I don't want you to go to jail any more than I want Shane to. And if I could trade places with the man, I would. I owe him that." He sighed. "But I can't fix this by myself."

Deakins nodded. "I get what y'all is trying to do. I jes wish I could help but. . . . " His voice trailed off.

Steve was silent. There was no point in pushing the man any further. As much as Steve wanted to be mad, he really could not really blame Deakins. He chuckled silently at the irony that Shane would be happy Steve had failed his mission. No, Steve shook that thought away. He had not failed - not yet. There had to be a way to fix this without trading Shane's freedom for Deakins. Steve just had to figure out what it was.