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“Sure,” he said, following her into the kitchen. “Look—”
Ava held up her hand. “Before you say anything, I just want you to know that Aine is seeing someone.”
The heaviness Striker had felt before, thinking about how much Ava and her sister looked alike, now felt more like a boulder on his chest, realizing how much they sounded alike too.
“I hope she’s happy,” he responded after enough time had passed that Ava was staring at him.
“I hope so too.”
“I won’t be in town long” he added, although he wasn’t sure why. Maybe so she could reassure her sister.
“We’ll make that decision once Doc and Merrigan get here,” said Razor, joining them.
“What’s with all the mystery?” asked Ranger, saying out loud what Striker was thinking.
Razor motioned them out of the kitchen then went back in and kissed Ava’s cheek and the baby’s head.
Striker turned away but not before he saw the sweet smile Razor’s wife gave him. Aine had the same smile, and the warmth he felt when she looked at him that way was probably how Razor was feeling right then. God, he missed it.
“I’ve got a new setup downstairs I want to familiarize you with. It’s also in the house in Cambria, almost identical to this.”
The last time Striker had been downstairs, there had been a large workout room, a small office, and a huge storage area. Now the “office,” if it could be called that, was three times the size of the workout room, and the storage area appeared to be nonexistent.
“Wow,” he muttered, marveling at all the equipment packed into the space. There were times K19’s technology budget blew his mind. The fact that they didn’t have to jump through hoops for funding meant the equipment they had would be what the agency might acquire months from now.
“Come on, show it off,” Razor said to Monk, who was already sitting in front of one of the monitors.
“What software is this?” asked Diesel, leaning in.
“Same technology used for the drones,” answered Razor.
“What are we looking at?”
“Ghafor’s compound in Pakistan.”
Striker shook his head. He’d had no doubt that’s where the bastard was, not that the CIA was willing to admit their mistake.
“Can you zoom in there?” Striker asked Monk, pointing to the screen.
“I thought he was out of money,” said Ranger, noticing the same thing Striker had. The man was stockpiling munitions.
“He’s been receiving regular shipments of arms at this location. Which means somebody’s funding him.”
Striker’s disgust at the CIA’s decision intensified. Allowing Ghafor to pick his place of exile had
to be one of the stupidest moves he’d ever seen them make. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that the Islamic fundamentalists also living in exile in Colombia gave Abdul the money he needed to get back on his feet. The Islamic State appeared to be gearing up for something significant, and until he could figure out what, they needed to wait and watch the bastard.
Razor looked at his watch. “Doc and Merrigan should be here within an hour.”
“Then what?”
“Dinner.”
—:—
Aine was in her sister’s kitchen with their mother, who was holding Sam, when she heard voices from the other room. One voice in particular sent a chill up her spine.
“I thought you said they were staying at the Overleaf.”
