Page 91 of Seal of Honor
Danny gave him a friendly thump on the back. “See ya Tuesday, buddy.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what I figured.” He lowered his voice. “Whatever you did, you saved the man’s life. Good job.” As another agent walked by, he plastered a smile on his face and said normally, “Give Leah and the kids my love.”
Danny stepped outside. The morning air was crisp and cool, the sky a gorgeous cerulean with feather-like wisps of clouds. It promised to be a beautiful day, perfect for stretching out on the beach with his wife while his kids played in the surf. He couldn’t wait.
His mind was already running ahead, a hundred miles down the highway, pulling up to the cabin with his kids squealing in delight at his arrival, and he almost tripped over Chloe Van Amee.
She sat on the front steps, hugging herself.
“Whoa, hey. Sorry.”
She blinked up at him, and he’d have to be blind not to see the glazed expression of shock in her dark eyes.
“Mrs. Van Amee, are you okay?”
She nodded, but it was an obvious lie.
Sighing inwardly, Danny postponed his trip for another few minutes and dropped to the step beside her. Yes, he wasn’t her biggest fan, and he especially disliked how little she had to do with her sons, but he couldn’t leave her sitting here like this, alone and in shock. He put an arm around her shoulders. She felt tiny and fragile, Barbie meets china doll.
“It’s over, you know?” he said. “Bryson is safe now. He’s coming home to you and your sons in a couple of days.”
“I—I know. I know. He’s okay. In the hospital, and he’s… okay.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself and raised shaking hands to cover her face. “I just—what about the men that took him? What happened to them? Are they… still out there somewhere?”
“I don’t know. Would you like me to find out?”
She looked at him, studied him with eyes far too world-weary to belong on the face of a selfish, pampered socialite like Chloe Van Amee. “Is it bad of me to hope they’re dead?”
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” He gave her a light squeeze and then stood. “Lemme make some calls, okay?”
CHAPTER 33
BOGOTÁ, COLOMBIA
“We have the final casualty report.”
Gabe turned from the ICU room’s observation window as Quinn approached.
Please, he thought, say all the tangos are dead. Then he could call Giancarelli with the news and tell Audrey?—
Scratch that, he would not tell her anything. It was easier on them both if he just faded away now. But he’d make sure the news got to her that it really was over, that the threat was completely neutralized.
If the threat was neutralized.
He studied Quinn’s impassive expression and swore under his breath. “How many got away?”
“The police reports Harvard hacked into only list fourteen casualties of the ‘gang fight.’ Rorro Salazar’s unaccounted for.”
“No, they have to be wrong. I hit him in the chest. It was a kill shot.”
“They found a Kevlar vest near Jacinto’s body. Bullet still lodged in it.”
“Goddammit.” He looked through the window again. Audrey slept fitfully with her head on Bryson’s bed, his hand gripped in both of hers as if she was afraid to let go of him. “The little shit should be dead.”
“Agreed. The men are packing up to go home, but we can stay a few more days if you want to go after him.”
Tempting.
Very, very tempting.
