to what happened in July and were already pretty busy when this went ugly.”
“Terrorist traffic?”
“Yes. We’re working now to figure out if the two are linked. How were the bagels?”
“Wonderful.”
“Can I do anything else for you? Want videos sent over or takeout?”
“I’m comfortable, Gabe. The guys are popping popcorn and watching a soccer game. They’re good company. I’m planning to finish a book and watch some late-night comedy shows and then crash again.”
“Call if you need anything; otherwise let’s talk again in twelve hours.”
“Sounds like a plan. Talk to you soon.” She hung up the phone, then paused.
Jesus, I know good men and women die in this profession, but it never gets easier to accept, to investigate. If You want me back at the office, I’ll go.
She had always accepted the fact that her life would be spent in service, to country, to God. She poured her life into tracking down Ramon Santigo for murdering two agents. If she was going back into that kind of grueling sweat equity and emotional commitment to tackle another investigation, she would need strength she didn’t have right now. Lord, just help me know if this is a battle for others or one You want me in the fight.
She walked back through the house. Darcy found Sam along with Gabriel’s four British guests settled around a large TV. Brandon had introduced her to the group over dinner. The four SAS officers were over for a seminar and to test out new gear NATO was buying for both U.S. and British Special Forces.
She didn’t know much about parachute jumping, but these guys did. Sam talked with Brandon about jumping from twenty-five thousand feet as if it were just another day at the office. She did know that it was cold at twenty-five thousand feet. Cold and you didn’t breathe without oxygen masks. Sam called it fun. She’d hate to ask what he would call a challenge.
“Sam, can I have a minute?” She nodded toward outside.
He set aside the popcorn bowl and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Sure, Dar.”
The man’s muscles stretched out his faded jeans and were distracting her to no end.
She walked outside and took a seat on the steps, setting down her Bible and notebook. She’d find a place for devotions later. She needed the chance to pull back and think about the last couple days, get perspective before she returned to North Dakota. Sunset in a couple hours would be pretty from here.
Sam had been hanging out with the guys and giving her space; she should be pleased with that. She had work to do and didn’t need the distraction. But she’d love to have him acting on that original interest in her and being exactly that distraction. She’d tossed him a few curves though. That cover blind married-with-a-daughter story had thrown him enough she couldn’t blame him for deciding that getting involved with a spy was something to think twice about. She’d like to talk more about that ring he wore and the emblem of the cross, find out where he went to church, learn more about him while she had the chance. She wanted to ask but was afraid it would come across as pushy.
Sam took a seat beside her. “How was your call?”
“So-so.”
“Maybe tomorrow will be better news.”
“Maybe.” She studied him and decided it was best to start with the topic of work. There was no good way to do it but to just dive in and ask. “Would you tell me what it’s like to be a sniper?”
He hesitated before answering. “What would you like to know?”
“Is it easy? Can someone relatively inexperienced be given the task?”
He shrugged. “Anyone can pick up a gun. It depends on how much you want to ensure success. A sniper who can take a mission and deliver every time . . . You’re talking years of training.”
“My friends who died last night—one in Sweden, one in Germany—both were well-thought-out hits.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”
It was all he said for a moment, and
“Terrorist traffic?”
“Yes. We’re working now to figure out if the two are linked. How were the bagels?”
“Wonderful.”
“Can I do anything else for you? Want videos sent over or takeout?”
“I’m comfortable, Gabe. The guys are popping popcorn and watching a soccer game. They’re good company. I’m planning to finish a book and watch some late-night comedy shows and then crash again.”
“Call if you need anything; otherwise let’s talk again in twelve hours.”
“Sounds like a plan. Talk to you soon.” She hung up the phone, then paused.
Jesus, I know good men and women die in this profession, but it never gets easier to accept, to investigate. If You want me back at the office, I’ll go.
She had always accepted the fact that her life would be spent in service, to country, to God. She poured her life into tracking down Ramon Santigo for murdering two agents. If she was going back into that kind of grueling sweat equity and emotional commitment to tackle another investigation, she would need strength she didn’t have right now. Lord, just help me know if this is a battle for others or one You want me in the fight.
She walked back through the house. Darcy found Sam along with Gabriel’s four British guests settled around a large TV. Brandon had introduced her to the group over dinner. The four SAS officers were over for a seminar and to test out new gear NATO was buying for both U.S. and British Special Forces.
She didn’t know much about parachute jumping, but these guys did. Sam talked with Brandon about jumping from twenty-five thousand feet as if it were just another day at the office. She did know that it was cold at twenty-five thousand feet. Cold and you didn’t breathe without oxygen masks. Sam called it fun. She’d hate to ask what he would call a challenge.
“Sam, can I have a minute?” She nodded toward outside.
He set aside the popcorn bowl and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Sure, Dar.”
The man’s muscles stretched out his faded jeans and were distracting her to no end.
She walked outside and took a seat on the steps, setting down her Bible and notebook. She’d find a place for devotions later. She needed the chance to pull back and think about the last couple days, get perspective before she returned to North Dakota. Sunset in a couple hours would be pretty from here.
Sam had been hanging out with the guys and giving her space; she should be pleased with that. She had work to do and didn’t need the distraction. But she’d love to have him acting on that original interest in her and being exactly that distraction. She’d tossed him a few curves though. That cover blind married-with-a-daughter story had thrown him enough she couldn’t blame him for deciding that getting involved with a spy was something to think twice about. She’d like to talk more about that ring he wore and the emblem of the cross, find out where he went to church, learn more about him while she had the chance. She wanted to ask but was afraid it would come across as pushy.
Sam took a seat beside her. “How was your call?”
“So-so.”
“Maybe tomorrow will be better news.”
“Maybe.” She studied him and decided it was best to start with the topic of work. There was no good way to do it but to just dive in and ask. “Would you tell me what it’s like to be a sniper?”
He hesitated before answering. “What would you like to know?”
“Is it easy? Can someone relatively inexperienced be given the task?”
He shrugged. “Anyone can pick up a gun. It depends on how much you want to ensure success. A sniper who can take a mission and deliver every time . . . You’re talking years of training.”
“My friends who died last night—one in Sweden, one in Germany—both were well-thought-out hits.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”
It was all he said for a moment, and
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