Page 105 of Zero Hour

Pat and Cole skidded to a halt as the suspect’s body jolted, his momentum snapping forward before he crashed to the ground.

Where the back of his head should have been was a gaping, bloody hole.

“He’s holding a trigger!” Munro’s second-in-command shouted.

Pat’s gut clenched. The suspect’s sleeve had slid up in the fall, revealing a detonation device taped to his wrist.

Shit.

“Everybody back!” Munro yelled, signaling his men.

Pat turned and roared at the crowd. “Move! Now!”

Some screamed. Others stood frozen, watching in horrified fascination.

“Move! Get the hell back!” Pat shoved at stunned onlookers, urgency clawing at his throat. If that thing was live, they were standing in a blast radius big enough to take out half the festival grounds.

Phoenix and Viper joined the effort, pushing the crowd away as security locked down the entrance. Bouncers stopped letting people in. The festival was over, whether the concertgoers realized it or not.

Pat’s phone rang.

Anna.

He answered. “Tell me you’ve got something.”

“We got her. Ameena Mousa’s in custody.” Anna’s voice was sharp, breathless. “She had an override. If the suicide bomber hadn’t detonated the device, she was going to.”

Pat exhaled, a long, hard breath of relief. “So, it’s safe?”

“It’s safe. The detonator’s secured.”

He relayed the message to Munro. The Special Forces captain gave a curt nod, then barked an order to his men.

“Stand down! Device is disarmed.”

A ripple of relieved tension moved through the team.

Pat shook Munro’s hand. “Hell of a shot.”

Munro grunted. “Damn right.”

The bomb disposal unit was already on the way. They’d handle the cleanup, dismantle the device, and secure any forensic evidence.

Pat took one last look at the motionless body of the bomber sprawled on the ground, blood pooling beneath his head. The CTD would bring in their forensics team, and the CIA would oversee the transport of Ameena Mousa to a classified facility.

Pat turned to his team. “It’s over.”

CHAPTER 40

The celebration at Blackthorn Security headquarters was in full swing—operators laughing, drinks flowing, the adrenaline of the past 24 hours still buzzing in the air. But all Pat could think about was finding Jasmine.

As soon as he walked in, he scanned the room for her, searching for that blond hair, those green eyes. There was no sign of Ryan either. His chest tightened. Had she left without saying goodbye?

“You looking for someone?”

He spun around, already breaking into a grin. “There you are.”

She looked incredible, even with the bruising under her left eye. Hair tousled, eyes alive with something he hadn’t seen before. Happiness.

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