Page 18 of Zero Hour

“Mind if I join?”

The operator grinned. “Would it matter if I said no?”

Pat slid inside, eyes already on the screen. “What’s our status?”

Phoenix handed him an earpiece and pointed at the image.

“Cole’s outside the library keeping tabs on Mrs. McCarthy. Viper’s up the ladder, running the satellite feed into the house.”

Pat studied the video feed from Cole’s body cam.

He saw the instant she appeared. A slender figure stepped out of the library, a canvas bag slung over her shoulder. His stomach tensed.

Phoenix sat bolt upright. “Shit. She’s on the move.”

“Let’s hope she doesn’t head home yet,” Pat muttered, as Phoenix got on the comms. “How long?” he asked Viper, still on the roof.

“Another fifteen minutes,” came the terse reply.

They watched as Jasmine walked along the sidewalk, the wind lifting her scarf. She reached up, catching it just before it blew off. Her hair slipped free, pale strands dancing around her face. Pat couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was beautiful, effortlessly composed—even in the wind.

They watched as she turned into a coffee shop.

Cole had obviously taken up position outside. “She’s grabbing coffee. Over.”

Phoenix exhaled.

Pat kept his gaze locked on her through the glass. It was hard to see past the reflection.

“She’s getting it to go,” Cole reported. “Whoa, hang on a minute.”

“What?” Phoenix asked.

“The barista just handed her something. Looks like another bag.”

“What the hell is she up to?” Pat murmured.

They watched as she reached inside the second bag and pulled out what looked to be a notebook, a pen, and?—

A phone.

“She’s making a call,” Cole barked. “I can’t get any closer without blowing it.”

Damn it.

The call lasted just under a minute. After she’d hung up, she dropped her head into her hands, and they saw her shoulders shaking.

Pat’s chest tightened. She was crying.

But why?

Who had she spoken to?

Jasmine sniffed, wiped her eyes, then handed the bag back to the barista, taking her coffee.

“She’s leaving,” Cole confirmed.

Pat’s stomach knotted. “How much longer does Viper need?”

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