Page 76 of Rogue Operator
“You look like shit.” Nomar lets his duffel bag slide from his shoulder and offers his hand.
The man arches a brow as the two shake. “Yeah, you try fighting off four guys at once and see how prettyyouare when you’re done. My arm is killing me. I need to catch a few hours on the flight to Istanbul.”
“We all do. Griff, this is Lisette.” He steps aside and I peer up at the man who tried to save my son.
“You probably hate me,” he says. “And you should. I’m so sorry—”
The pain in his eyes is too much for me, so I embrace him. Griff stands stiffly for a moment, then gives me a one-armed hug.
“You tried to save Mateen. And if you had not been there, Laurent would have died.” I draw back, not wishing to make him uncomfortable. “Is there any news? From the hospital?”
“He’s still not breathing on his own.” Griff runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “The man didn’t think twice about shielding Mateen. Whatever he needs for his recovery, he’ll have. Austin will make sure of it.”
“Your plane is ready,” the pretty gate agent announces. “Do you have any luggage?”
Nomar turns to her. “We’re good, ma’am. Thank you.”
With a rough, pained“oof,”Griff picks up a large black bag. He favors his left arm, holding it tight to his body. But before I can ask him if he is all right, Nomar wraps his fingers around my wrist.
“Whenever we’re exposed, stay between us. You don’t go anywhere alone unless we tell you to run. Understood?”
The intensity of his gaze should frighten me, but I feel nothing. Losing Mateen has left me numb. “Yes.”
* * *
This plane is larger.Nicer. Two flight attendants in perfectly pressed uniforms greet us, offer us water, coffee, and champagne, and show us how to recline our seats into beds. “Our flight time is four hours and thirty-two minutes this evening. As soon as we reach cruising altitude, the lights will dim and you can get some rest.”
Griff asks one of the attendants for as many ice packs as they have, then sinks into a seat across from me.
“How bad?” Nomar asks as the plane starts to taxi.
“Two bruised ribs, a loose tooth, and the fucker did his damnedest to rip my prosthetic off. I’ll live—”
“Your…prosthetic?” I stare at Griff, convinced my mind is playing tricks on me.
The young man takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Ford didn’t tellanyoneabout me, did he?”
“I do not understand.”
Griff grimaces as he leans forward to remove his jacket. Under the left sleeve of his black t-shirt, his arm is…silver.
Shock steals my words, and I cannot tear my gaze away. His hand looks real from afar, but this close, I can see the unnatural smoothness of the fake “skin.”
“You fought those men with…one arm?”
Frustration simmers in his eyes. “No. I fought them with two. This is the most advanced prosthetic in the world. I have full control of all five fingers, and decent sensation. But that’s not all you need to know about me.” His heavy sigh twists my stomach into a knot. “I’m mostly deaf. I read lips pretty well, and those glasses are Second Sight’s tech. They work with my phone. Speech-to-text. Whatever you say appears on the inside of the lenses.”
“That is amazing. I did not mean to offend—”
His gaze softens. “You didn’t. But Ford and I are having words when this is over. I can do the job, but it’s not right you’re only finding out about my…issues now.”
“I would have told you tomorrow,” Nomar says. “If everything hadn’t gone to shit.”
His voice holds so much pain, I almost reach for his hand. But the lights dim, and one of the flight attendants brings Griff several clear plastic bags full of ice.
“You can recline your seats now,” she says quietly. “If you need anything else, press your call button.”
By the time I turn back to Nomar, he’s lying back with his beret pulled down low over his eyes. Griff unbuckles his seat belt and heads for the bathroom at the back of the plane, leaving me to burrow under the dark blue blanket and pray.
