Page 40 of Zero Hour

“Copy that,” Anna responded.

Riad had stormed out of the house, taking off down the road. Cole was tailing him on foot.

“Why don’t you head home,” Pat told Phoenix. “I can handle the night shift.”

“You sure? It’s not even four yet.”

“Yeah. You’ve been here long enough. Go see that beautiful wife of yours.”

Phoenix smirked. “That would be great. She’s about to head off again soon.” Phoenix had met Ellie, his wife, on an oil rig off the Gulf, and Pat knew she traveled a lot for work.

“All the more reason to go home while you can.”

Phoenix clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, boss.”

Pat was glad for the quiet. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, and if he was honest, he wanted to watch Jasmine without distractions.

They were still sitting on the couch, her and Al-Jabiri. The terrorist seemed tense, his hands balled into fists. It was clear he was struggling with the aftereffects of his panic attack.

Jasmine was talking to him, and he wondered what she was saying.

Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. Al-Jabiri’s eyes darted toward her, uneasy.

Pat scoffed. The infamous Falcon, reduced to a shaking wreck.

Jasmine was nodding now. She seemed to be encouraging him to talk.

Pat pursed his lips, then got on the comms to Anna. “Hey, can you get that lip reader to translate this?”

He had a feeling it was important.

“Yeah, I’ll send it through to her now,” came the reply.

Pat sat back and watched. Al-Jabiri was grinding his teeth, clearly disturbed. His hands were tightly clenched in his lap.

He was talking though, and slowly, he began to relax.

Every now and then, Jasmine nodded and asked a question, gently probing. Eventually, Al-Jabiri got up, gave a brief nod, and walked out of the room.

Jasmine sat there, unmoving, for a long time. Then, she took a deep breath, got to her feet, and followed him out.

Pat leaned back in his seat. He didn’t know what the hell to make of her.

“I’ve got the translation,” Anna said, coming back on. “Sending it to your phone now.”

“Thanks, Anna.”

Alone in the van, Pat read the transcript.

Tell me how you felt when the missile struck.

Terrified. The explosion was deafening. The heat burned my face. I screamed for my mother, but she didn’t hear me.

Where was she?

She’d gone into the house to get my brother. My father ran in after her. They were all killed.

Pat sat upright. Jesus, he almost felt sorry for the bastard.

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