The 6:20 Man (The 6:20 Man, #1)

by David Baldacci

TRAVIS DEVINE TOOK A SHALLOW breath, ignored the heat

His primary weapons, instead of the Army-issued M4 carbine and M9 sidearm of yesteryear, were

to the big city on Metro North’s Harlem Line. At age thirty-two, his entire life had changed. And he wasn’t

according to plan. He sat where he always did when commuting into the city—third row, window seat on the starboard side. He switched to the port

Devine lived in Mount Kisco in a saggy town house shared with three twentysomethings trying to

Danny and Claire. Board-certified neurosurgeon at the Mayo Clinic, and CFO of a Fortune 100, respectively.

He’d later qualified to become a member of the elite Seventy-Fifth Ranger Regiment. That had been even tougher than Ranger School, but he had loved the special forces and the dangerous and demanding quick-strike

him into 225 pounds of bone, muscle, and gristle. His grip was like the jaws of a croc; his stamina was off the charts; his skills at killing and not being killed

He’d risen to Captain right on schedule and had worn the twin silver bars proudly, but then Devine had called it quits because he had to. It had torn him up back then.

Yes, he thought, as he stared out the window. As miserable as possible. He had tried later

Sara Ewes had been found hanging in a storage room on the fifty-second floor of the very building Devine

Devine had been here six months, which meant he had another six to go before he was either shown the door or elevated to the next level.

His name was Bradley Cowl, his boss of all bosses,

“Detective Karl Hancock, NYPD.” Devine grew rigid. “What can I do

a white-hatter, a person hired by tech firms and banks and other industries to try to hack through their security systems.

Black woman named Helen Speers, was on a mat in the middle of the green carpet doing yoga. She was barefoot and performing a downward dog pose in a tight-fitting Lycra one-piece. Speers had just

Jill Tapshaw, was a truly brilliant

person who had started her own online dating company, known as Hummingbird. He marveled at her guts and drive and

the man, referring to the fact that Devine had graduated from Ranger School and been assigned to the Seventy-Fifth Ranger Regiment. “Promoted to Captain and got your silver bars right at the four-year mark. Bradley company commander out of Fort Stewart for eighteen months. Then Ranger Battalion out of Hunter Army Airfield. Ranger company commander, then staff officer. All along the way, tours of combat duty in Afghanistan and then Iraq, and special ops missions in ten other shitstorm countries, where if you messed up you get a flag on your coffin and a Dignified Transfer at Dover Air Force Base.”

USDB for a very long time,” Campbell added, referring to the United States Disciplinary Barracks at Fort Leavenworth,

“The shop I now run. It’s a small office within the Department of Homeland Security, and has a joint operation agreement with the Department of Defense. It’s aptly called the Office of Special Projects. It has about five hundred

And I will ask you to serve your country again as a member of the Office of Special Projects.” “And when does this service end?” asked Devine.

which the woman stepped out, now dressed. Her name was Jennifer Stamos. She was twenty-eight and had been at Cowl for six years.

Lieutenant Roy Blankenship and Captain Kenneth Hawkins. Names he had heard every

Divine killed these guys some how. Lieutenant Roy Blankenship and Captain Kenneth Hawkins. Names he had heard every

Fred spoke in a trembling voice. “I know that’s what the

things were going on at Cowl. And this was exactly what Emerson Campbell had told him to work on in order to stay out of a military prison.

someone had prevented her from doing so by killing her. But why had she been there that late in the first place? Was she working, or maybe meeting someone? Like Brad Cowl? Like Jennifer

Hawkins’s death, tried to screw with his head, lied to him, tried to get him to confess, pounded him with everything they had. Only the body had been so torn up by animals that the forensics were of no use in assigning legal blame to Devine, and the injuries

they had done of Blankenship’s supposed suicide.

“Why? To make peace with him?”

tell him to stay out of my life and let me run it the way I want to. And that I didn’t want or care about his opinion of me anymore.” She stared at him

real estate records to see who owned Montgomery’s building.

was owned by the good old Locust Group. He put his

I had a meeting with Christian Chilton from Mayflower Enterprises. He came out to Mount

find Valentine at the open door staring at…Jennifer Stamos.

“Yeah, I remember you saying that to me. The only baby left to you.” She said absently, “I liked Will, too. It was a shame.”