Page 105 of The Bait

“No they don’t,” Harry grumbled, snarling at him.

The little fucker grinned some more.

The first XO cleared his throat. “Transport on doctor’s clearance. We’ll be in touch.”

Harry gave a nod. “Understood.”

Captain gave Harry a mock salute, and he smiled at Asher. “We will see you in the wonderful land of Oz.” He turned for the door, his arm sliding around Medic’s waist—those two were far too touchy-feely to be just friends—and escorted him out. “Stop pissing him off. You know he doesn’t need a weapon to kill you.”

The little punk laughed. “It’s why I do it.”

The door closed, leaving Harry and Asher alone, the silence like a breath of fresh air. Harry took Asher’s hand, threading their fingers. “Ready to go home, baby?”

Back to their little house in the woods. Back to their quiet life. Their quiet, boring, and wonderful life.

Asher nodded, his eyes warm and smiling. “So ready.”

EPILOGUE

TALLOWWOOD

It had beena normal day at work. Quiet, mostly, apart from paperwork and fielding questions from the public. Mundane and boring were two things August would never take for granted.

It’d been four weeks since ASIO had swept in and confiscated any and all information pertaining to the three missing men in the national park, and Michael and Joshua Hill.

Or Timothy “Harry” Harrigan, as Michael’s real name turned out to be.

August and Jake hadn’t tried to follow up or even google anything else. They’d been warned, and even though curiosity gnawed at Jake, August urged him to let it go.

“It’s clearly related to the Parrish case,” August had said. That high-profile military case involving espionage and treason, and they knew Harry had been special forces. “We can’t do anything that might jeopardise his safety,” August had said.

And that was enough for Jake to drop it.

But then, not long after that, there were reports on the evening news of gang wars in Bosnia and Serbia, where twenty-odd gang members had been found dead, headquarters destroyed. It was a turf-war thing, the news had said.

Jake had quirked a silent eyebrow at August, and August did have to wonder... But August had shaken his head. “Nah. It can’t be. Just a coincidence.”

But then, Deans had come into the station with her phone screen turned to show them a photo of two very familiar faces at a press conference in Serbia.

Michael and Joshua Hill.

It was causing a huge stir, according to the article. One of the men was a ghost, it claimed. The infamous sniper, Asher Garin: unconfirmed kill count in the hundreds, longest distance strike range three kilometres.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

And then silence.

No media coverage, no bulletins, no trace online, no anything.

August had wondered what the Australian government had done to shut that down so completely.

And in the three weeks that followed? Silence and normalcy. And boring and mundane.

“Ah, boss?” Deans yelled from her desk, her voice rising in pitch. “Detective?”

August looked around the corner, through the glass panel in the door, to see two men had pulled up out front of the station and were walking in.

Smiling.

---