Page 79 of Operation Heartbeat

“Three minutes out.”

Con’s phone vibrated, and he brought it to his ear. His commander’s voice filled his ear. “Hang back.”

His gaze darted around the street. They were only a few blocks away from the dock. “What changed?”

“I’m working with an analyst to see if rescuing this woman is going to become an international matter. We’re not going to start a war over one person.”

Commander Barrett was right, of course. Con understood, but he couldn’t help but think of how Sophie would react to knowing they were going to allow an end to Deniz’s love story.

It was probably best that she turned down the offer to work with Blackout. She wasn’t cut out for the harsh realities of this game.

He pointed to an alley. Mason took the silent order and pulled into the shadowed spot.

“I await your orders,” Con told Barrett, and they ended the call.

Mason turned his head to look at Con, looking for his own orders.

Into his comms unit and to those teammates surrounding him, he said, “We’re on hold, waiting for word from Barrett. They’re analyzing every move we make to ensure we don’t start a war.”

Everyone in the vehicle was still and silent. Not even the rustle of the gear they were decked out in sounded in the cramped space.

Con wagged his head. “A man is detained for taking photos, and one photo is the site of a recent bombing. His phone cloud is full of coded messages.” He ticked the list off on his fingers. “Someone kidnaps a shipping agent’s wife after he refuses to keep shipping bomb parts to the US. And the people pulling Deniz’s strings are part of a gang that sports a geometric tattoo, which also is seen in one of the coded photos we found in thecloud. This is a lot of shit for one op. This isten gallonsof shit in a five-gallon bucket. What the hell are we missing?”

“Nothing is ever easy, but there are a lot of moving parts here.” Mason’s gaze was fixed on the end of the alley. “We never got the intel back on that tattoo. I handed it all over to our contact, but he hasn’t given me anything yet.”

Con looked at him and then twisted in his seat to address Denver. “Follow up on that. It might not be as important as the rest of the details, but anything can help us get closer.”

Denver reached into one of the many pockets on his vest and extracted his phone. While he worked, Con’s only choice was to wait on word from Barrett.

Someone walked past the alley pushing a cart—a street vendor selling food. He watched him, but his mind volleyed between all the data he’d been given, including Sophie’s latest discovery. He sank deep into thought about the military base and jolted when his phone buzzed.

He snapped it to his ear. “Con.”

He listened to Barrett on the other end. “Copy that. I’ll be in touch when it’s over.”

Everyone looked at him.

Con ended the call and gestured for Mason to drive. “Roll out. We hit the docks first and stop that shipment. Then, if all goes to plan, we rescue the wife.”

* * * * *

Sophie’s bare feet pattered lightly on the cool floor of the hotel room. After Con left, she moved her tech indoors and set up on the table to continue work on the cryptograms. There were more puzzles to uncover than a single person could complete in a solid year. If she was going to continue working on the codes, she’d need a team.

She passed by the glass doors overlooking the pool, reached the wall and did an about-face to set off in the other direction. The movement helped clear her mind. All this nervous energy wasn’t helping her concentrate on her work. Not when her lover was out there fighting to keep the world safe.

As she moved past the laptop set up on the table, she threw a glare at the tiny clock. She couldn’t see the time from here, and it didn’t tick either. But she was certain that time was speeding by with absolutely no word from Con.

She huffed out a sigh. She never experienced this with Benjamin. This waiting…thisworrying.The only thing she had to worry about with him was who would get the antique books they’d collected during the years of their marriage. In the end, she did, and she loved seeing them on her bookshelf.

But who gave a damn about material possessions when the man she loved was out there in danger?

He didn’t tell her when he’d check in. She could have alongwait ahead of her.

After several more trips from one side of the room to the other, a familiar ping jerked her out of her spiral.

She darted to the computer, placing both hands on the table to lean in.

It wasn’t an incoming message from Con or another member of the Blackout team. It was a new email, not from the CIA.

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