Page 85 of Zero Hour

He checked in with Thorn, who was nursing a mild concussion at home.

“I’m so sorry, boss,” she said, her voice tight with frustration. “They got the jump on me. I thought we were in the clear.”

“We’ll get him back,” he said grimly. Maybe if he said it enough times, it would be true. “Rest up. I need you back as soon as you’re ready.”

“Copy that,” she said, then hung up.

Pat sighed and glanced at the couch. Jasmine was curled on her side, her blond hair spilling across the pillow. In sleep, she looked peaceful—something she hadn’t been since this nightmare started.

He left her to rest and padded barefoot to the communal changing rooms. He’d had them installed shortly after they moved into the building, considering the wacky hours they kept. A blistering hot shower helped ease the tension in his muscles. Jasmine’s scent still clung to his skin, a mix of warmth and wildness, and he forced himself to scrub it away.

Last night had been insane. No foreplay, no hesitation, just raw need, all teeth and nails and heat. He’d recognized that look in her eyes. The same way he’d seen it in his own reflection after a mission had gone sideways, after too much blood and too many ghosts.

He’d buried it in alcohol and one-night stands back then.

She’d buried it in him.

And damn it, he didn’t regret it.

Grabbing a fresh shirt from his locker, he shrugged it on, then pulled on the same pair of jeans he’d been wearing earlier. His razor was back at home, so there was no taming the five o’clock shadow that was now more like a 5 AM shadow.

After running a towel through his hair, Pat crept into his office, picked up his laptop, and moved into the open-plan working area. At this time, there were plenty of free desks.

The comms officer on the night shift glanced up from her screen. “Nothing on the kid yet.”

Pat clenched his jaw. “What about Al-Jabiri?”

“Restless all night. Pacing around like a lunatic. He turned the TV on at one point, then just sat there, staring at the wall.”

Another panic attack, maybe?

Except there was no Jasmine to calm him down.

Pat smirked. Served the bastard right.

He checked in with the surveillance crew watching Gemini. The Waheed brothers had apparently been up late playingCall of Duty, according to the field operative stationed outside their house. They hadn’t bothered to draw the blinds, a sign they wanted the law enforcement officers watching them to know they were home.

“Totally rubbish at it,” he added with a smirk.

Pat chuckled. “Figures.”

As the orange sun rose sluggishly outside the tinted windows, Pat reviewed the counter-terrorism plans for the stadium attack,checked in with Garretson and Mercer, and again with Ed Hollis, who, despite working through the night, didn’t have any leads on the kidnappers.

Just before seven, as the office was coming to life, Jasmine emerged from his office. She was dressed, although her hair was mussed, her buttons were done up incorrectly, and she had a faint smudge of mascara beneath her eyes.

“Hey,” she said, coming over to where he sat at one of the hot desks.

“Hi, I thought I’d leave you to sleep.”

She shook her head. “I woke up and for a moment I thought it was all a terrible nightmare, but then I realized it wasn’t.”

He reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. There’s still no news.”

She gave a tired nod. “I think I’d like to go back to your place, Patrick. Do you think someone could give me a ride?”

He frowned. She’d been so adamant to stay yesterday. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’d just love a shower and to freshen up. Besides, I’m just in the way here. I haven’t been any help finding out who that woman was.”

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