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“What are you doing?”
“Ordering a pizza.”
Hud just stared at him. Ned looked up. “I heard your stomach growling in the car.”
“You are kidding me, right?
Ned finished the order, then pocketed the phone. “C’mon.”
He walked down the street, Hud beside him, then they crossed and stood in front of Vogel’s building, out of the pool of light in front of the door. Ned found a spot in the shadows.
After a bit—“I felt the same about Shae. We met during a tornado, and she was absolutely amazing. There was a guy with us who was bleeding, and I was injured too, and she just held it all together. Even now, after two weeks in a Siberian gulag, it’s like…I don’t know, she’s just, maybe, done with letting it tell her who she is.”
“What do you mean?”
He looked at Hud. “You know, after everything that happened in America, Iris is done letting it tell her that she’s a victim. Or at least I hope so. All I know is that she’s one of the toughest women I know. Here they come.”
Hud blinked at him, trying to sort through his words, then turned and watched as a car drove up, a pizza delivery sign glowing on the top.
“Gotta love pizza delivery,” Ned said and walked toward the door as the pizza man got out. He waited until the man buzzed the apartment belonging to Vogel. No answer.
“At least now we know he’s not home,” Ned said.
The pizza delivery man buzzed another unit and spoke German. The door buzzed, and he went inside.
Ned caught the door and held it for Hudson.
“It can’t just be that easy,” Hudson said.
“People are easily duped, especially if they think they’re helping out someone,” Ned said.
They waited in the lobby as the delivery man climbed the stairs.
A few minutes later, he came down empty handed.
“I told him in my instructions that if no one answered, to leave it by the door,” Ned said, then ducked his head and headed up the stairs.
“This a new breaching technique?” Hudson said.
“Whatever works.” He stopped on the second floor, pizza sitting on the floor. He picked up the box. Stilled. “The door is ajar.”
Hud reached out, but Ned bumped him back. “Just stay here.” He handed Hud the pizza box.
In a moment, Ned had pulled out a knife from his boot. Then he pushed the door open with his foot and crept in. Light shone from the kitchen, and farther, a larger room.
Hud wasn’t going to stand in the hallway like a child, waiting for Ned to get killed. He pushed in behind Ned, who was already down the hallway.
The place wasn’t large, but newly remodeled with wood flooring, the kitchen just a wall of cabinets topped with black granite, a wooden table set with four chairs.
Ned glanced over at him, frowned, then motioned to stay behind him.
Sheesh, Vogel was a football player, not special forces. What did he think was—
“In here.” Ned lowered the knife and headed into the main room.
Hud set down the pizza on the counter in the kitchen and followed Ned into the room, past an arched entrance.
Ned’s outstretched arm stopped him cold. “Don’t touch anything.”
