scooted over to sit next to him. She put a hand on his thigh as she rubbed his back, anchoring him to this side of the nightmare.
He sat a few minutes next to her, then pulled away and went to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.
Flipping the light on, he studied himself in the mirror. The light chased the last of the dream away, but the fear it had seeded in his soul remained. In his dream, he’d seen Jafaar in Kadisha’s village in the Hindu Kush. Jafaar had been greeted like a distant cousin, welcomed among the men.
Rocco ran cold water over his hands, watching it spill into the basin. The dream had seemed so real. What if he’d been wrong when he told Kit he didn’t recognize Jafaar? What if he’d been in the village and Rocco simply didn’t remember him? What if Jafaar belonged to the group of memories he’d never recaptured, ones lost forever in the shadows of what had happened after Kadisha blew up their home?
What if nothing he believed was real and none of his memories were to be trusted?
Rocco dried his hands and face, then shut off the lights and left the bathroom. If the shadows were the truth and his memories a lie, then tomorrow he could well die. He kneeled on the foot of the bed. Mandy had returned to her side of the bed. He crawled over her until he was on top of her, feeling her slight body beneath him.
She pushed the sheet down between their bodies, kicking it free with her feet so nothing separated him from her. He touched her face, laying his palm and fingers flat against her skin. He kissed her temple. He shoved his hand beneath her pillow, circling her head as he moved over her. She gave herself to him so easily, so freely.
“Em, if something happens, tell me you’ll take care of my boy.”
She caught his face in her hands. He was glad the dark room shielded him from her troubled eyes. “Oh, Rocco. I will. You know it. But promise me you won’t take unnecessary chances.”
“I promise.” After every nightmare, she was his only salvation, the only thing he truly knew was real. “I love you,” he whispered as he entered her.
CHAPTER TEN
Max had two teams to monitor that night. Pete’s guys were positioned at the entrance to the compound, along the road to the warehouse, and all around the warehouse, inside and out. Kit’s team was farther away, in an outer ring around the compound, hidden in sniper stands in the woods.
Max went inside to make sure Pete’s guys were where he’d told them to be. He’d taken an opportunity earlier to inspect the loading site and the shrink-wrapped pallets of heroin bricks—four of them, stacked twelve rows high. He’d stuck an RFID tag beneath the top layer of wood on each pallet.
The tags were passive unless paired with the proper reader—readers controlled by Lobo’s agents who were set up to follow the loaded truck once it left the compound. Owen’s drones had the same capability and would be in place as backup in case any of the FBI tails got made or lost their targets.
A crude oil truck drove into the compound and pulled around to the warehouse that sat at the back of the property. Max wore his amber night-vision glasses, specially configured with the same camera as his sunglasses. Greer was seeing everything he was.
The cavernous room was loud with an idling forklift, thick with the smell of propane fuel as the big rig pulled into the warehouse. The front overhead door lowered. The driver and his passenger got out. Pete exchanged jokes and handshakes with them. He watched as the driver pulled out his phone and opened an app. He tapped the screen a few times, then a mechanical whine sounded as three entire sections at the rear of the crude-oil tank rolled open, revealing an empty cavity.
Fuck. Me , Max thought as he looked at thegiant steel Trojan horse.
The forklift made four trips, loading the specially fitted pallets and setting them gently inside the cargo space. The driver and his
He sat a few minutes next to her, then pulled away and went to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.
Flipping the light on, he studied himself in the mirror. The light chased the last of the dream away, but the fear it had seeded in his soul remained. In his dream, he’d seen Jafaar in Kadisha’s village in the Hindu Kush. Jafaar had been greeted like a distant cousin, welcomed among the men.
Rocco ran cold water over his hands, watching it spill into the basin. The dream had seemed so real. What if he’d been wrong when he told Kit he didn’t recognize Jafaar? What if he’d been in the village and Rocco simply didn’t remember him? What if Jafaar belonged to the group of memories he’d never recaptured, ones lost forever in the shadows of what had happened after Kadisha blew up their home?
What if nothing he believed was real and none of his memories were to be trusted?
Rocco dried his hands and face, then shut off the lights and left the bathroom. If the shadows were the truth and his memories a lie, then tomorrow he could well die. He kneeled on the foot of the bed. Mandy had returned to her side of the bed. He crawled over her until he was on top of her, feeling her slight body beneath him.
She pushed the sheet down between their bodies, kicking it free with her feet so nothing separated him from her. He touched her face, laying his palm and fingers flat against her skin. He kissed her temple. He shoved his hand beneath her pillow, circling her head as he moved over her. She gave herself to him so easily, so freely.
“Em, if something happens, tell me you’ll take care of my boy.”
She caught his face in her hands. He was glad the dark room shielded him from her troubled eyes. “Oh, Rocco. I will. You know it. But promise me you won’t take unnecessary chances.”
“I promise.” After every nightmare, she was his only salvation, the only thing he truly knew was real. “I love you,” he whispered as he entered her.
CHAPTER TEN
Max had two teams to monitor that night. Pete’s guys were positioned at the entrance to the compound, along the road to the warehouse, and all around the warehouse, inside and out. Kit’s team was farther away, in an outer ring around the compound, hidden in sniper stands in the woods.
Max went inside to make sure Pete’s guys were where he’d told them to be. He’d taken an opportunity earlier to inspect the loading site and the shrink-wrapped pallets of heroin bricks—four of them, stacked twelve rows high. He’d stuck an RFID tag beneath the top layer of wood on each pallet.
The tags were passive unless paired with the proper reader—readers controlled by Lobo’s agents who were set up to follow the loaded truck once it left the compound. Owen’s drones had the same capability and would be in place as backup in case any of the FBI tails got made or lost their targets.
A crude oil truck drove into the compound and pulled around to the warehouse that sat at the back of the property. Max wore his amber night-vision glasses, specially configured with the same camera as his sunglasses. Greer was seeing everything he was.
The cavernous room was loud with an idling forklift, thick with the smell of propane fuel as the big rig pulled into the warehouse. The front overhead door lowered. The driver and his passenger got out. Pete exchanged jokes and handshakes with them. He watched as the driver pulled out his phone and opened an app. He tapped the screen a few times, then a mechanical whine sounded as three entire sections at the rear of the crude-oil tank rolled open, revealing an empty cavity.
Fuck. Me , Max thought as he looked at thegiant steel Trojan horse.
The forklift made four trips, loading the specially fitted pallets and setting them gently inside the cargo space. The driver and his
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