For a full minute, I scramble for something—anything—I can say to comfort her. But she’s right. Afghanistan is so fucking patriarchal, if Farukdoesn’tget his son back, he’ll lose the respect of his men. And once that’s gone, so is his empire.
“The mission to rescue Joey was—is—illegal as fuck, Lisette. We had to get in and out fast. If anyone in the United States or the Afghan government found out what we were planning—what wedid—we’dallend up in some black site where we’d never be heard from again. But if we’d had any idea what he was doing to you…”
A single tear tumbles down her cheek, landing on the back of my hand. “My family must have looked for me, yes? I was only supposed to be gone for two days. Not…ten years. Faruk said he wanted to take me to Morocco for a film festival. But once we were in the air, he told me we were going to Afghanistan. And that I would never see my family again.”
All the women I’ve saved in my career, and I’m still shit at this part of the job. At comfort and reassurance. At restoring a sense of safety. I’d give anything to go back ten years and stop that asshole from ever touching her.
“We should have known. And I should have slit his throat while I had the chance. Damn the consequences.”
* * *
A shaftof sunlight angles through the window, warming my legs. I couldn’t sleep a wink after Lisette left. I wanted to go after her. To promise she and Mateen would always be safe. But I can barely manage to take a piss by myself. And this hospital gown leaves nothing to the imagination.
The door to my room opens with a bang, and Ford stalks in.
“‘Bout time, asshole,” I say when he drops into the chair. “You couldn’t have brought me some clothes? Or a coffee?”
“You were unconscious last time I checked. Cut me some fucking slack.”
Something’s up his ass in a big way. Is it Joey? Or me? He won’t meet my gaze, so I’m betting it’s me.
“I screwed up, man. I put everyone in danger by grabbing Lisette and the kid.”
Ford flops back and runs a hand through his hair. “I would have done the same thing. Though…weren’tyousupposed to be the one getting me out of that damn basement?”
“Fuck…”
He chuckles, but stress lends a raspy quality to the sound. “Your loss was my gain. Joey got to half carry my ass out of there.”
“We should have known about her, Ford. About what he was doing to her. Lisette and Mateen should have been part of the plan from the get-go.”
“You almost died.” Exhaustion makes him look so much older than his forty-eight years. “There was no way we could have planned a triple rescue with only three people. Ryker would have gotten involved and there’d be a hole the size of Boston in the Afghan countryside.”
“But Faruk would be dead. Lisette, Mateen,andJoey would be a hell of a lot safer because of it.”
Anger flashes in Ford’s eyes. “Don’t you think I know that? Trev’s been on the phone with Dax all morning. Faruk won’t get his hands on any of them ever again.”
He’s so certain. I can’t blame him. Dax Holloway is a legend. He and Ryker McCabe survived more than fifteen months of torture in the Taliban’s most notorious prison—Hell Mountain. Then escaped and blew the fucking place off the map. They’ve been doing their damnedest to save people ever since.
If anyone can protect Lisette and Mateen, it’s Dax.
Ford checks his watch. “Do you have the video surveillance you took of the compound? Wren wants to run any faces through her software. She’ll watch the airports—both in Boston and France—for any sign Faruk’s on the move and coming after his son or Joey.”
I raise the bed a little more, but when I try to sit up, the room starts to spin. Fuck. The morphine’s wearing off in a big way. “My bag’s hidden under the corner of the mattress. Get it for me?”
Ford passes me the oilskin pouch. With the IV taped to my left hand, it’s awkward as fuck to unzip the damn thing, but I pull out a small data card. “This should have everything you need. Video from my initial recon and from when we broke Joey out.”
He nods and tucks the card into his wallet. “Thanks, man. When are they springing you?”
I shift in the narrow bed, then hiss out a breath. “Three or four days. Total bullshit. I’ve had paper cuts worse than this.”
Throwing his head back, Ford laughs hard enough to shake the chair. “You need to get out of the field. It’s warping your mind.”
No shit.
“Listen, you think there might be some work for me at Second Sight? Never gave much thought to what I’d do after this. But…seeing Lisette’s face when I told her I was taking her with me…” I rub my chin, staring out the window at the horizon. It’s beautiful. In a desolate, dry, unemotional sort of way. The kind of beauty you’d appreciate if you weren’t neck deep in the worst of humanity. “I want to help people, Ford. But hell if I can do it in this part of the world anymore.”
Ford claps me on the shoulder, squeezing once before he straightens. “Normally, I’d run a new hire by Dax. But pretty sure he’d be thrilled to have you join the team. Call me when you get back to the States, and we’ll make it official.”
