“Elliot will know. He always knew when Reese or his brothers were up to something.”
His dad laughed. “Too right. Now, besides the matter of the woman left to die, were there any anomalies during the mission?”
Talon nodded. “One. They lit fires on the top deck.”
“Fires?”
“Not big ones. By the scorch marks on the metal, they were small, but they were lit. I can tell you it wasn’t for the heat. We’re melting in Satan’s crotch over here.”
His father’s laughter was surprised and something he loved to hear.
“For God’s sake, never use that description again.”
“Unbearably hot, wet, itchy, and uncomfortable as hell. How else would you describe it?” Talon drawled, and his dad howled with laughter.
“Stop.” His dad tried to compose himself, but it took a minute. “Now that I can breathe, what’s your guess about the fires?”
Talon’s smile slipped off his face as he answered his dad’s question. “Signals. I think they were sending acknowledgements or messages to someone on shore.”
“Okay, I’ll add your thoughts to the information on file.”
“Maybe Aunt Jewell or Con will be able to figure it out.” Talon yawned. It had been a long night and almost thirty-six hours since he’d slept.
“I wouldn’t doubt it, but move that off your scope. Your part of the mission is done.”
“Roger that.” However, he’d never forget about the woman he carried out of that metal tomb. He wondered if she’d text him. Probably not. She was overwhelmed at the hospital and most likely had a million people she could contact once her phone charged. “Tell Mom I’m alive and that I love her.”
“I will. Take care of yourself and your team.”
“Will do. Love you.” Talon yawned again.
“Love you, too.” The line disconnected. Talon made his way out of the comm building after collecting his earpiece and phone from the locker where he’d placed them. He glanced at the phone. The text icon on the lock screen made him smile. He swiped the screen only to feel a punch of disappointment. The texts were from his brother, Trace, and his cousin, Reece. He rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone. He’d answer their texts after a solid six or seven hours of sleep. He made it to his room and stripped down, placing his rifle beside his bed and his handgun on the bedside table. Then he flicked a sheet over his naked body before dropping into the rack. Punching the pillow, he wondered why he was disappointed she hadn’t texted him. He was so damn tired he couldn’t work it out. Maybe he’d figure it out after he got some sleep.
Dude’s wordsstirred him from a dead sleep. He mumbled half asleep, “What did you say?”
“Fuck, Skipper, I didn’t know you were still asleep.” Dude sounded pissed at himself.
Talon lifted his head and glanced at his watch. “That’s okay. I’ve been down long enough.” He needed to get on the same schedule as the rest of the world and sleep at night. Five hours of sleep would hold him until tonight when he could crash again. “What’s up?”
“I thought you’d like to hear the interview with Harlan Shoemaker. The guy in New York …”
“Elliot Sawyer,” Talon provided.
“Yeah, him and another guy, Marcus King … any relation?”
“Yep, another cousin.” Talon swung his feet to the floor and stretched.
“How many cousins do you have, dude?”
“Way too many to count.” Talon stood up and grabbed his jeans, slipping them on commando.
“Anyway, those two interviewed him. I haven’t listened to it.”
“You can hear it when I do.” Talon scratched his chest and shuffled over to the single-serve coffee machine. He poured some water from his bottle into the back of the machine and put in a pod. “Ready whenever you are.”
“Hitting play now.”
“Mr. Shoemaker …”Talon recognized Elliot’s voice.
