Page 17 of Zero Hour

Viper leaned forward. “We once fed a camera through a satellite cable, threading it through the same hole. Nobody noticed.”

Pat narrowed his eyes. “Where’d it come out?”

“Wherever the cable enters the house,” Viper said. “It’ll only be visual, though. That’s the downside.”

Pat grimaced. Not perfect, but it’d have to do.

“That’s good enough. Get a team on standby. As soon as the house is empty, we move.”

Anna coordinated the op, and within an hour, a white panel van markedCapital Satellite Communicationspulled outof the Blackthorn underground garage, followed closely by an unmarked surveillance SUV.

“In position,” Viper confirmed from the satellite van outside Al-Jabiri’s house a short time later. With him was another operator, to assist with the installation of the surveillance camera.

Meanwhile, the unmarked SUV sat parked at a discreet distance across the street. Inside, Cole and Phoenix monitored the operation, keeping eyes on the house and feeding intel back to Anna at HQ.

“As soon as they leave, let me know,” Anna said over the comms. “Team Alpha is ready to move in.”

“Copy that.”

Pat paced outside his office, waiting for the signal.

Finally, it came.

"Targets are mobile. Falcon and Buzzard left on foot. The woman went with them. They are heading north toward Columbia Heights Station."

Pat keyed into the secure comms network from Anna’s desk. “Keep eyes on them,” he ordered.

“Am following,” came Cole’s tinny reply signifying he was mobile too. They could hear his footsteps on the sidewalk, steady and rhythmic, blending into the pedestrian flow. “Got eyes on the targets.”

A minute later?—

“Falcon and Buzzard have entered the metro station. The woman has gone into the local library. What do you want me to do?”

“Stay with the woman,” Anna confirmed, glancing at Pat.

He nodded. She’d made the right call. The woman was their immediate priority. Adrenaline buzzed through his body, making him feel like he’d had a gazillion cups of coffee.

“You okay?” Anna asked, holding aside the radio.

No, he wanted to be there.

“I’m heading to the scene,” he decided, pulling on his leather jacket.

Blade shot their skipper a warning look. “Make sure you stay out of sight. Al-Jabiri and Jasmine McCarthy have both seen you.”

Wise words as always from the ops manager. “I’ll be careful.”

“Cole’s got a body cam,” Anna added. “We’re patching the live feed into the surveillance van.”

Pat nodded and strode out the door, his mind already on their next move.

He took the stairs two at a time, bypassing the elevator. No time to wait. The underground garage was dimly lit, the low hum of idling engines filling the space.

His motorcycle sat where he’d left it. Grabbing his helmet and pulling it on, he swung a leg over and revved the engine. The tires screeched as he tore out of the garage, weaving through D.C. traffic with practiced ease.

A short while later, he cut the throttle and pulled up behind the surveillance SUV, parked discreetly across from Al-Jabiri’s house. He killed the engine, parked the bike, then tapped on the SUV’s tinted window.

Phoenix cracked open the door.

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