Page 86 of Zero Hour

“You still have some mug shots to go through,” he reminded her, suddenly not sure he wanted her out of his sight. Sure, he could assign someone to guard her, but it wasn’t the same as knowing she was safe, with him.

“I’ll check in later,” she said, with a weak smile. “I promise.”

Maybe it was best. It was going to be a stressful day anyways, and she was probably better off out of it. “If Al-Jabiri does contact you, let the operator with you know. We’re in constant contact.”

“Of course.”

He nodded, feeling a strange sense of unease, like he was doing the wrong thing by letting her go. Maybe that was justhis paranoia talking. It had been a long few days with not much sleep.

“I’ll get someone to take you home,” he said, gruffly.

“I’ll just say goodbye to Anna. I see she’s just arrived.”

“Ready?” he asked, a short while later.

Jasmine gave a little nod. “Yeah.”

He walked her to the underground parking lot, along with one of their best undercover operators who’d recently returned from Colombia. “Ghost will take good care of you,” he said, patting the young man on the shoulder. “He’s been briefed on the situation, so he’ll know what to do if you hear from Al-Jabiri.”

“Ghost?” she questioned, glancing at his latest recruit.

“You can call me Dom, if you’d prefer, ma’am.”

“Ghost is fine.”

There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. Not with Ghost waiting with the car door open. Pat’s phone buzzed, and he shot her an awkward smile.

“Got to go. You take care, and I’ll call you later.”

He wouldn’t be home until this was over, they both knew that.

She seemed strangely composed, and he hoped she hadn’t given up. “We’ll get him back,” he said, one more time.

All he got was a faint nod. “See you, Patrick.”

And the door closed.

When Pat got back to the office, a heaviness had settled on his chest. He wasn’t even going to entertain the possibility that they wouldn’t find Ryan. Not yet. There was still time.

The phone message had been from the lead tactical officer from the CTD, Colonel Brett Farrow who wanted Pat to call him to discuss the joint operational procedure at the arena. Anna waved to him, but he bypassed her pointing to his phone.

She nodded and turned back to her computer.

Pat calleda briefing in the boardroom, and everyone who wasn’t on surveillance duty was present, apart from Anna, who was mobilizing all available operators for tomorrow’s targeted operation.

“The CTD will have twenty agents embedded in the crowd,” Pat explained, fixing his gaze on them. “All seasoned undercover operatives. You won’t know they’re there unless they ID a threat. If they do, they’ll either neutralize it or call for backup.”

“What about Garretson’s Joint Terrorism Task Force?” Blade asked, referring to the Commander who’d come in with the Secretary of Homeland Security.

“They’ll be positioned at key choke points,” Pat confirmed. “Four teams covering every entrance. They’ll be fully kitted—Kevlar, NVGs, suppressed carbines, sidearms. If a bomber makes a move, they have shoot-to-kill authorization.”

“And stadium security?” Viper asked. He’d flown in last night, running on fumes but sharp as ever. Apart from a raw graze on his neck—a souvenir from his last op in Central America—he was good to go. Pat had offered him a day off, but he’d refused.

“You need me, boss.”

He hadn’t argued.

“They’ve been briefed,” he told them. “Every entrance will have metal detectors, bag searches, full pat-downs. Male and female officers on duty.”

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