Page 22 of Zero Hour

Pat exhaled sharply, took off his helmet, and climbed off the bike. He had work to do.

Upstairs, the Blackthorn office buzzed with activity. Phones rang, operatives moved between desks, monitors flickered with live intel from operations across the world. The tempo was relentless—just the way he liked it.

And yet, all he wanted to do was get to his office, open his laptop, and watch her. Now that they had eyes inside the Falcon’s nest, he couldn’t drag himself away.

He strode into his office, ignoring the nods and greetings, and shut the door behind him. His desk was piled high with casefiles, mission reports, and urgent requests, but he barely glanced at them. Instead, he flipped open his laptop.

The live feed was running.

Al-Jabiri’s living room was empty and there was no sign of Jasmine. Crap. Probably for the best, now he could focus on the job.

He scanned the latest messages. A U.S. Ambassador in Belize needed protection. A Texas-based oil company required security for its overseas operations. A Virginia-based engineering CEO had lost contact with his head of operations in Colombia. Kidnapped, most likely.

He forwarded them to Blade. Blackthorn Security had expanded rapidly in the last few years, but their workload was pushing them to the limit. They needed to bring in more top-tier operators, especially for missions like this.

Some jobs required a small team. High-profile executive security, industrial sabotage prevention—a presence that served more as a deterrent.

Others were more high risk and required a degree of force. Like this situation in Colombia.

Pat picked up the phone, about to call the CIA Regional Director for Central America, Axel Poirier,when a movement on his screen caught his attention.

Jasmine entered the living room, carrying a salad and a fork, and settled onto the couch. Balancing the plate on her knees, she reached for the remote and switched on the television.

He studied her, feeling like a voyeur, even though this was just part of the job. Notstrictlyhis job, mind you, but as the boss, he liked to keep an eye on things.

Even though the television was on, she didn’t seem to be watching it. Instead, her gaze was on the floor as she picked at her meal.

What was she thinking?

Had he managed to fool her? Or was she putting the pieces together.

Pat watched her as he dialed. A liaison officer at the CIA field office in Bogotá picked up. Pat confirmed he’d received the request and asked for an update.

The executive had been missing for two days. That meant he was already in transit, heading into the dense Colombian mountains. Pat wanted to send in a team before it became impossible to trace him. “Ask Axel to call me ASAP.”

The moment the call ended, Blade walked in. “You wanted to see me?”

Pat was grateful Blade was standing on the other side of his desk and couldn’t see his screen.

“Yeah. The Colombia job. We need a two-man team, fast. The CIA offered to cover infil and exfil with air support, but we need two of our best to go get the exec.”

Blade nodded. “Mad Max is available. We could send Thorn, but?—”

“No. Thorn stays with her kid.”

“What about Ghost?” Pat asked. “He knows that area like the back of his hand.”

“He’s in Mexico.”

Shit.

Blade ran a hand through his hair. “We could pull Viper or Phoenix. They’ve both worked Central America ops before.”

Pat frowned. “Can we spare them? It shouldn’t take more than a few days.”

“One of them, not both. We can redistribute surveillance coverage if needed. And if things go sideways, we pull in the Counterterrorism Division.”

Pat considered it. “Send Viper. Have Anna book him on a flight tonight. I’ll call the CTD and put them on standby.”

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