Page 12 of Final Approach

When his phone rang, he hesitated a fraction of a moment to make sure he could talk and to press the moisture from his eyes. Then he tapped the screen to pull up Hank’s face. The forty-five-year-oldundercover agent had leathery features, gang tats across his left cheek, and a scar that split that tattoo down the middle to disappear beneath the collar of his black T-shirt. “How are you, man?” Hank asked.

“Doing okay.”Liar,liar,pants on fire.“How ’bout you?”

“Doing all right. But for real. How are you?”

Andrew swallowed, not wanting to visit that time in his past in spite of his prayer for help. “I’m dealing. Trying to move on.”

“Dude, you’re not anywhere near South Carolina, are you?”

“No.”

“Good, ’cause Showbiz is still calling for your head.” Showbiz. The leader of the Serpentine Network and the father of one killed thanks to Andrew’s information on another bust. The bust that had blown his cover. The plan had been to pull in Showbiz’s son, Paddy, to question him and turn him against his father. Unfortunately, the guy had been killed, but not before he’d seen Andrew and gotten off a text to his father that Andrew was a fed. A four-word text that changed his life.“Warning Drewa fed.”Hank had the flu at the time—the only reason his cover had stayed intact and no one had ever connected him and Hank. Andrew had gone home, shaved his beard and mustache, cut his long hair, gotten the tat on the side of his neck and down his arm laser removed, and now looked like a completely different person.

“I know,” Andrew said, “but we don’t have time to delve into that. The longer we talk, the riskier it is for you.” He couldn’t fathom yet another death on his conscience.

“Tell me what you need.”

“You heard about the hijacking?”

“Of course. It’s all over the news.”

“The guy has an SN tat on his arm.”

Hank fell silent. “I haven’t heard anything about a plan to hijack a plane. If I had, I would have found a way to warn someone.”

“Yeah, I know, but can you do some digging? See if the SN is involved in any way?”

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t really think they are?”

“I don’t know, Hank. Call it a gut feeling. The tat was new. He was told to get it two weeks ago. His family was threatened, and he fully believed the person who paid him would kill them if he backed out. Everything he says rings true, but I gotta cover all my bases. If the SN is involved...”

“Right. I’ll sniff around, see what I can find out.”

Andrew paused. “Be careful, man. Please.”

“Absolutely.” A pause. “I miss you, dude. It’s not the same here without knowing you’re nearby.”

“I know you got another good partner.”

“Not as good as you. Gotta go.”

Hank hung up and Andrew looked up to see Nathan studying the board. “Thoughts?” Andrew asked.

Nathan rubbed his chin, his brow furrowed. “I agree with you. Something’s off.”

“But what?”

“No idea. Hopefully something will break soon.”

“Anyone sitting on Leary’s house?”

“Of course. Just for the next twenty-four hours. He went straight home and hugged his wife and kids.” Andrew raised a brow and Nathan shrugged. “The agent said the blinds were up. Had a good look at the reunion and said it was all he could do not to cry at how touching it was.”

Andrew sighed. “Okay, then what about—”

“Hey, guys,” Kristine said, walking over to their area.

Andrew sat a little straighter, and Nathan dropped his chin to cover a smirk that Andrew caught. He ignored his partner. “Hey, what’s up?”