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“Then what are we doing here?”
“Seeing what kind of security clearance the good professor had. Or what vehicles come and go, how often. How many guards and what kind of tech we’d be up against if we did actually decide to break in.”
“Correction. How manyyou’dbe up against. There is no we in that mess of a scenario.”
“You would let me go in by myself?” Asher almost sounded offended.
“Solo. You’d be more solo than Han and the lemon drink combined.”
“You would not let me go alone,” Asher scoffed.
“Shut the fuck up,” Harry said. Asher began to say something else, but Harry beat him to it. “No, I mean it. Be quiet. We have another incoming. A van, white. Logo on the side... Solaris. Single driver—”
Harry’s words died in his throat.
“What is it?” Asher whispered.
Harry felt sick. He hadn’t known what to expect, but he certainly hadn’t expected this. He handed him the binoculars.
Asher held them to his eyes and expertly adjusted the settings as he looked at the van and its driver. “You know him,” he said calmly.
“His name is Trevor Whitmore. Second lieutenant in the SRG.”
Asher lowered the binoculars and looked at Harry. “He was in your unit?”
“Not mine, but the one under it. We ran some training ops with that unit.” Harry started the engine and turned back for the town of Ghardaïa.
“I take it we’re done watching them?” Asher said sarcastically.
Harry’s shock was starting to give way to anger. “I’ve seen enough.”
