Page 23 of Sam to the Rescue
“Hi.” The blond girl grins shyly, hiding behind the big man’s legs.
Laughing, he takes her hand, follows me into the office, and sends his daughter to play with Mikey in the playpen.
After helping himself to coffee, he sits, leans back, and speaks quietly. “Don’t get your knickers all bunched up, I got your six.”
“Where is my husband?”
“All I know is that he’s on a special mission.”
“Why him?”
“He already has one boot in the sand.”
“What do you mean? Oh shi…zam.” Heart racing, my stomach acid churns and I clunk my head on the table. “This is all my fault. I’m the one who bought him a membership and found the chemicals. Iama danger magnet.”
“I can’t argue that, luv.” When Lucky shrugs, another horrible thought comes to mind.
“Oh my Go…sh. Suds had me take his dream monitor out of the closet. He said he was having nightmares again. He shouldn’t be working under cover.”
I bite down on my lip so hard, the taste of iron reaches the tip of my tongue,
Lucky reaches over and dabs my lower lip with a napkin. “That’s partly why I’m here. Can you look over some pictures and tell me what you think?”
Pulling out his smart phone, he thumbs the keys, and glances at me as I stare at the images.
“Tire tracks? That’s it?” I shake my head, wondering what these have to do with the price of eggs in Alaska.
“They belong to a late model jeep. Does that ring any bells?”
“I’m sorry, even an AI unit would need a little more to go on than that. What are you trying to tell me, Lochlan? Out with it.”
“Sebastian has been seeing an Afghani woman holding an infant. When he searches, she’s not there.”
“Is she avoiding detection or is she made up?”
“He wasn’t sure.”
Wow. That was not the answer I expected to hear.
Chapter 15
Suds
“…and I’m telling you, I won’t be wired. Are you trying to get me killed? The COGs are mostly ex-military.”
Doyle doesn’t bat an eyelash.
Standing at the window on the twenty-third floor, I stare at the empty sky where the Twin Towers used to stand. The fluorescent lights buzz as Colin’s chair scrapes the industrial vinyl flooring.
He leans over the ancient metal table. “Sebs, think. How can we keep tabs on you? We can’t launch drones over the whole damn city.”
“You’ll simply have to trust me.” My spidey senses have been firing since this morning. It’s not the type of thing I can explain but I know better than to ignore the warning signs. If I am not careful, this may be my last mission here on God’s earth.
The dark woman reaches into her bag and pulls out a belt with a western-style, silver buckle. “You press behind the bull’s nose and it turns on a GPS signal.”
Holy shit. Now, the cloak and dagger finally makes sense. She’s not FBI, she’s CIA and if the Feds called in the spooks, they must be desperate.
As I ponder this turn of events, she continues briefing me as if my compliance is a done deal. “Funding started with the Chinese and was added to by the Russians. Millions more have been collected by a Go-Fund-Me page. Up until now, the COGs have used their money to create misinformation on social media. But recently, the tone of the messaging has changed. They’ve posted the phrases,something big is going down,andthe world is about to change.”