The general rose. “Major Sterling, Dr. Bonner, welcome to the Pentagon.” He came around his desk and shared a warm handshake with them. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, general.” Wyl remained standing, and Rod mimicked him.

After the general took his seat, Wyl and Rod sat in the soft leather chairs.

“May I offer you coffee? Water? Soft Drink?”

Rod shook his head. “Nothing for me, thank you, general.”

“Nothing for me either, sir,” Wyl said.

General Steinburg nodded. "I’ll get right to the point. First, you are married, and Dr. Bonner took the Sterling surname. I am okay with your marriage, and in fact, I applaud you two for having the guts to follow your hearts. This country would be in much better shape without so much paranoia and misinformation. I want you both to understand your relationship is not an issue. In fact, it's partly the reason you're here, Dr. Bonner. Please forgive me for addressing you in this manner, but your doctorate is in the name of Bonner. For the purposes of this discussion, we need your credentials as well as your relationship with Major Sterling.”

“General, if I may, I am comfortable with either title,” Rod said.

"Excellent.” General Steinburg made a note on his pad. “May I call you Rod?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And may I call you Wyl?”

“Yes, sir,” Wyl nodded.

“Gentlemen, we have a situation, and we need your help. Each of you plays an important role in this mission.”

Tentacles of worry wrapped around Wyl’s gut at this mission. He and Rod faced something complicated and dangerous.

The general eyed them both. “The top-ranking official of An Garda Siochána, the Irish national police force, received an alert of someone hacking into Ireland’s banking system. The government entity overseeing the Irish financial system noted the query occurred at the same moment at all banks. Individual account holders of separate banks would unlikely seek a balance inquiry at the same exact moment. Although no evidence exists of funds withdrawn, the breach proved vulnerability to the hackers. The Irish government hesitated to block bank access because of major disruption for banks and customers. They have not identified the source but narrowed the list of potential suspects to one individual. Concrete evidence connecting him to the crime or uncovering the code he used to hack the system is challenging. They need an expert in cryptography and Wyl…you are the best in the world.”

“I am, sir?” Wyl shook his head. “General, I did my job, but many cryptographers must be better qualified than me.”

The general leaned forward, arms on the table. “Major Sterling, do you remember Italy?”

The memory flooded Wyl’s mind, and he shook his head to dispel the added panic gripping his chest. Rod’s hand grabbed his shoulder and massaged. He took a deep, calming breath. “General, I’ll never forget Italy.”

“Do you know how those men found you?”

“I have no idea, General. They wanted me to break into the government database.”

“Major Sterling…Wyl…the Italian underworld discovered your identity at some point. Your skills are unparalleled, so the U.S. Armed Forces worked hard to keep your identity classified. Upon your rescue, we worked with Italian authorities to stave off the release of your identity. Based on information you supplied last year; we suspect a leak came from within our own ranks and are following up on the lead. We have no evidence it went further than the Italian mobsters who kidnapped you. If evidence existed, you would be in jeopardy, and I wouldn’t have asked you to meet.”

Wyl shifted in his chair. He maintained strict secrecy regarding his skills and occupation. He cautioned Rod to keep the information close to his chest. He gazed at his clasped, white-knuckle hands. This new mission not only put him in danger, but the danger included Rod.

“General,” Wyl shook his head, still struggling to grasp the seriousness of their visit to the Pentagon. “If I may, sir, how dangerous is this mission?”

“The Irish government contacted us for assistance. They are not aware of you or your skills or talent, Wyl, but because of the specifics of their request, your name came up at the top of our list. Should the culprit succeed, global financial implications face us. The global population is seven billion. If 33% of those people have a bank account, and the suspect takes the equivalent of one dollar from each, that’s over two billion in currency. We concur with Ireland's assessment. I will discuss your particular background and skillset with Garda’s top man, who will be under oath to keep the information confidential. Below him, nobody will be told anything except you’re an expert.”

Rod pulled Wyl’s hands apart and took one, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Relax, babe. Let’s find out more before we react.” He leaned over and gave Wyl a kiss. To hell with protocol.

The general chuckled. “Your closeness supports the importance of you two serving together.”

Wyl turned to the general. “Please excuse our impertinence, General. Tell us more.”

“Your close attention to each other is an asset, Wyl. I’m glad to witness such a strong relationship. As for the mission, the world needs your expertise to help stop this cyber-terrorist. The financial security of civilized nations may be at stake. We cannot let this individual succeed or others to learn of his plan. He must be stopped.”

The general focused back and forth between Wyl and Rod, looking for a reaction and hoping for questions.

“General, sir, we understand the urgency of this mission,” Wyl said. “But we must understand our roles and how the mission will unfold.”

“Let’s move over to the conference table” The general motioned toward the opposite end of his expansive office. “I will provide the details we have, and discuss your roles.”

They moved to the conference table, sitting in soft leather chairs with a clear view of the 60” monitor.

“I’ll ask Corporal Duggins to bring coffee. You both appear like you need a shot of whiskey, but we must maintain clear heads, so coffee, water, or soft drinks are all I can offer.”

Wyl’s jaw ached from clenching. He needed to calm down.

The general pressed a button on a remote control. Duggins's voice came through the ceiling speakers, “Yes, sir?”

At Rod’s calming touch on his hand, Wyl’s tension eased.

“I’m here,” Rod whispered. “You’re not alone, and this isn’t Italy.”

More tension melted. Wyl possessed something he didn’t have in Italy. Rod, the man whose strength gave him courage. “Thanks, babe.”

“Duggins, bring coffee, and I need you to take notes.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”

“Duggins will keep minutes of this meeting, copies of which will be available to each of you via a secure electronic device.” He motioned to the table. “The iPads in front of you are yours to take. Each iPad connects to a secure government network worldwide.”

Each picked up an iPad Mini and pressed the button.

“The device is secured by a biometric sensor. You can access both devices. If someone else attempts to access, after three tries the device will purge and shut down.”

Duggins came in carrying a tray with an insulated coffee carafe and three dark blue ceramic mugs imprinted with U.S. Government in white lettering on the side. As he poured three mugs, the aroma of fresh coffee wafted through the air. Wyl and Rod accepted the offered mugs. Duggins set the General’s mug at his place before sitting at the opposite end of the table.

The general picked up a remote, and the video monitor came alive with a photo of a handsome gentleman: reddish hair, a well-trimmed beard, strong cheekbones, and piercing green eyes.

“This is our suspected cyberterrorist, Ailbe MacGowan. He resides in Galway. The city boasts four institutions of higher learning, including the Galway-Mayo Institute of Technology and Galway University.”

As he talked, the general moved through photos of the schools. He brought up a picture of MacGowan in his doctoral regalia.

“He is educated, earning his doctorate in Information Technology ten years ago. He is a strong supporter of the arts and a fan of the opera. He is a full professor at GMIT with many resources at his disposal, including bright and talented students.”

The general displayed a photo of a different handsome gentleman. With short-cut blonde hair and blue, wideset eyes, and the muscular physique of an athlete or fighter. His broad face showed a menacing expression. “This is MacGowan’s companion, Declan Knowlan. MacGowan is openly gay. He and Knowlan have been together for six years. We are unsure about Knowlan’s part in the plot, but we figure he acts as MacGowan’s bodyguard and does the dirty work.”

“General, can you explain dirty work?” Rod asked.