Page 82 of Out of Control

Dray glanced at Spencer, leaned forward, and said more seriously, “We try to keep youth on the path of light and right. I will tell you honestly. Our work is to protect youngsters from the dangers of radicalization.”

Samara hissed between her front teeth. “The recruiters are everywhere.” She leaned in with a wary glance at her husband, who was at the far end of the bar now, speaking quietly with a pair of men who’d just come in. “Even here.”

Spencer controlled his expression. Drago had called it exactly right to approach her.

“Do tell,” Drago said mildly.

“They come in here and spew their poison. They make big talk and inflate the egos of ignorant boys.”

Spencer made a sound of agreement.

She ranted under her breath about the trouble they caused in the neighborhood and how the police crawled all over everyone, including the good people in the area, because of a few bad actors.

Drago nodded sympathetically. “Do you know a man named Khoury? Fayez Khoury?”

Another hiss. “He’s the worst of all. He believes his own—” She spit out a word that Spencer didn’t know but took to be some sort of curse along the lines ofbullshit.

Drago surprised Spencer by saying low, “We took care of him. He will bother our young men no more. But now we need to find his friends. His coconspirators, if you catch my meaning.”

She nodded slowly and laid her index finger beside her nose. Unfortunately the husband chose that moment to move down the length of the bar and bark at her to go fetch food for his important guests.

Spencer didn’t jerk his head around to look at the men at the other end of the bar, but he did make significant eye contact with Drago. Samara bustled off into the kitchen.

“Well, hell,” he muttered. “You got close there.”

“We’re not done yet. Let’s sit here a few more minutes and see what unfolds.”

Spencer wasn’t hungry, but he dutifully put away the rest of his shawarma. “I’m stuffed,” he grumbled.

“Me too. Gotta sacrifice for the job, buddy. It’s better than lying in the mud for a week getting eaten alive by bugs and shot at.”

He grinned. “Aww, I dunno. That sounds like fun.”

“Fucking soldier.”

“Emphasis on fucking?”

Drago flashed him a cheeky grin. “Count on it.”

One of the kids brought over the bill, and Drago pulled out his wallet to drop some cash on the table. Idly, Spencer picked up the hand-scrawled receipt. He turned it over.

“Dray?”

“Hmm.”

“There’s a list of names on the back of this.”

“God bless Samara.”

“She’s clever,” Spencer commented. “And you had a good eye in picking her out.”

“This isn’t my first operation, Captain James Bond Wannabe.”

“That wasn’t what you said this afternoon.”

“Don’t make me go home and put you over that table again.”

“You wish.”

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