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“His behavior when I met with him. As Merrigan said, I don’t think he’s as disengaged as he’s pretending to be.”
“You’re the lead on this mission, Striker. You have to go with what you believe is the best course of action.”
“For now I say we continue to wait and watch.”
“Roger that. On another subject, how’s Aine?”
&n
bsp; Striker gave him the condensed version. “If all goes well, she’ll be out tomorrow.”
“Just in time for Thanksgiving. Merrigan and I look forward to seeing her. Let her know that.”
“Will do,” Striker said, thanking him again before he hung up.
Before he went up to Aine’s room, he called Razor and filled him in on his conversation with Doc.
“I told him that I want to stand down for now.”
Something in Striker’s gut was telling him that Jimenéz was somehow involved with Ghafor and the Islamic fundamentalists, but he couldn’t piece together why or what that had to do with the arms being stockpiled.
“What about the arms?” Razor asked as though he was reading Striker’s mind. “Should we stop them in transit or keep the mission going?”
They had to keep it going. If the weaponry didn’t arrive wherever it was headed, Ghafor would shut down and likely ghost, at least temporarily.
“Let the shipments go,” he answered, standing up straight. “But tell Monk to keep his eyes on them and on Ghafor.”
“Roger that. I will when I see him,” said Razor. “By the way, are you back at the hospital?”
“Affirmative.”
“Can you do something for me?”
“Anything,” he said, meaning it sincerely.
“Send my wife home.”
“You got it.”
22
Aine held her breath when she heard the door open like she had every other time she’d prayed Griffin would walk in and it ended up being someone else.
She let out a sigh of relief when he came in, flowers in hand, and a smile on his face.
“You’re needed at home,” he said to Ava as he walked past, set the flowers on the window ledge, and leaned down to give Aine a kiss.
“I’m waiting for the doctor to tell us the results of the MRI.”
“We’ll call you,” Aine told her, not turning her head away from Griffin.
“All right, all right. I’ll leave.”
“Bye,” Aine said, still looking into Griffin’s eyes.
He looked up when he heard the door close.
“Is she gone?”
