Page 8 of Zero Hour

The room went still.

“How do you know that?” Viper asked.

Viper was dating his daughter and was the only man who knew he was Izzy’s biological father. The operator had worked it out from a photograph of Izzy, Astrid and Richard on his mantlepiece. Two sets of blue eyes in the parents didn’t equate to a brown-eyed daughter. It was a biological impossibility, not a genetic mutation as Astrid would have had her husband believe.

Smart kid, that Viper. And a damn good operator.

Pat met his gaze. “Because I blew it up.”

Silence.

Blade, as usual, was the first to speak. “Maybe you should fill us in.”

Pat leaned his still powerful six-foot-two frame against the desk, ignoring its creak of protest. He knew he owed his team an explanation. He’d expect the same level of transparency from them.

“Sixteen years ago, my SEAL unit was tasked with infiltrating a terrorist camp in Libya. Our mission was to capture Amir Al-Jabiri alive and destroy the facility. We went in hard, took him alive, planted the charges, and got the hell out. As we were leaving the compound, Al-Jabiri’s wife ran in.” He paused for a beat. “She didn’t make it.”

“And he’s never forgiven you,” Blade finished.

No, he got even.

But he didn’t say that.

Instead, he clenched his fists. “Al-Jabiri spent fifteen years in prison because of me. Because of us. I led the unit that took him down. He was convicted of killing twelve people in a Nigerian hotel bombing. A shooting outside a U.S. embassy in Kenya that left eight dead. Two car bombs in Germany with over a dozen civilian casualties. Now, he’s here, in our city. Planning something big.”

“We have to stop him,” Viper said.

Pat gave a stiff nod. “The second we have proof he’s involved in an attack, we bring in Homeland Security. Until then, we watch.”

“We know he’s meeting with Gemini,” Anna added helpfully. “They’ve been seen together.”

“It’s not enough,” Pat said. “We need eyes on him 24/7. Who’s on the residence?”

“Cole and Phoenix,” Blade answered.

“Good. In the meantime, let’s focus on the woman. We need to find out everything we can about her. It’s not a coincidence that she suddenly appeared in his life. And I don’t believe it’s afling. The Falcon isn’t the type, and it didn't look like they were together at the restaurant.”

Or maybe he just didn’t want to believe they were together.

“I’ll send her photo to Lily at NSA,” Blade offered. His wife worked there as a military software designer. “They might be able to run facial recognition.”

“Do it.”

Pat gazed at his team. They were all hand-picked. All excellent operators who he’d trust with his life. He was lucky to have them. “Let’s move on this. I have a feeling she’s the key. Let me know when you have something.”

“Yes, sir,” came the resounding reply.

“I’ve ID’d the woman,”Anna said, poking her head into his office. It was several hours later, and he was still grappling to regain his composure. The anger simmered, just below the surface, threatening to erupt at any moment.

He glanced up. “Who is she?”

“Lily got back to us. Her name is Jasmine McCarthy. She’s from right here in D.C. A psychologist at St. Anthony’s Memorial Hospital.”

Pat frowned. “A psychologist?”

Not a government agent. Not a radical. Nothing useful to Al-Jabiri. So why the hell was she with him?

“Yes, sir. No known ties to any terrorist organization.”

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