Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
We have Alphabet hiding where Hale saw the whole thing unfold between Dylan and Walker. Atlas and Zeus inside an old storage closet in one of the warehouses—and yes, closet jokes were a must. Angel and Proxy are in the second warehouse, perched upstairs in an office that oversees the entire space, and the others are spread out over a few blocks to keep an eye on our targets as they arrive and to follow them in when they do.
I’m watching them all and hearing them through our comms devices from Iris’s living room, where I’m leaving Iris behind. Much to his dismay. Iris loves action, and he’s been relegated to babysitting duty. Not that Iris is the best choice to watch over Dylan. If Iris sees a chance to get in the action, he’s going to jump at it. It’s why I have Saint stationed here and not at headquarters. Well, that, and the bug. But mainly to make sure Iris doesn’t go off plan.
I’d leave Ghost with them too, but I promised Ghost more field time, so he’s going in with me.
“Ghost and I are on our way,” I say into Saint’s microphone that’s attached to his computer.
I have my earpiece in so I can hear everything, but I’ll keep it on mute until we get there. Having the constant chatter of my team in my head gets me in the zone.
“I don’t know why we have to already be jammed in this closet,” Zeus complains. “Atlas nearly takes up the whole damn space. I’m getting squashed in here.”
“You’re in there already in case they show up early. If I were them, I would,” I say.
“I’m not that big,” Atlas mumbles.
He is that big.
Iris takes over Saint’s mic. “I would’ve thought you wouldn’t mind being squashed up against a big, hulking man like Atlas. I could see you pulling the whole ‘Oh, no, there’s no room in here, and it’s so hot. I’ll have to take off my pants and sit in your lap.’”
“If it was anyone but Atlas, sure.”
“Hey,” Atlas complains.
“I love you, buddy, but I have this whole inferiority complex. If we were to ever get together, I’d have to bulk out like you, and I don’t have that kind of commitment.”
“You say this like you have any kind of commitment,” Iris snarks.
Yep. As crazy as these people are, they center me and keep me focused.
The drive at this time of day can take anywhere between forty-five minutes to an hour and a half from where we are, so we leave with plenty of time to get there first. Hopefully.
There are plans that are well-thought-out and planned to the last detail where every last variable is taken into consideration, and then there are the ones where there are too many variables, and we can only do the best with what we’ve got. That’s this job.
Walker could come with reinforcements. Well, I’m assuming he will.
My biggest worry is him not showing up at all but sending more goons like the ones he sent to my ranch. If that happens, blood will be spilled, and we will get nowhere.
But the trap should be too good for Walker to resist personally. We’re handing him Dylan on a silver platter.
“Nervous, boss?” Ghost asks beside me.
“Why do you say that?”
“Your knee won’t stop bouncing, and I’ve never seen you this way. You’re always so stoic and calm when you need to get down to business. I thought you had a switch you could flip.” He imitates a computerized voice. “Robot mode activated.”
“Well, that button’s broken today.”
“Because it’s Rodriguez? All those he’s not my boyfriend protests have been pretty silent lately.”
Reflexively, I want to say he’s not my boyfriend, but it doesn’t come out. That’s essentially what we agreed to be last night even if we didn’t say the actual words. I plan to come home to him, and once he’s out of this mess, I want a proper relationship with him. “He’s important to me.”
“Fair enough. Though, now is not the time to point out that a personal relationship could cloud your judgment in the field, right?”
“Correct.”
Ghost cracks a smile.
“What about you?” I ask. “Give me a distraction. What’s going on with Ghost?”
“You want a therapy session? What kind of update do you want? That my father, who disowned me when I came to the States because I was gay and could’ve been killed for it if I stayed in Afghanistan, is now trying to use me to get him out of there too? Or that I had a really awesome date with a guy that was completely ruined when I did a background check on him and realized every single thing he’d told me during the date was a lie? He told me he owned a ton of small businesses and was going to build the next giant conglomerate. Turns out, he works at Subway. Doesn’t own a franchise or a store. He’s a sandwich maker. And I wouldn’t even care if he’d told me that. I don’t need someone with money, and food service is a hard industry to work in. But to lie? I hate liars.”