Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“Let’s go.” I slung my rifle over my shoulder and closed the door behind me. Guess it was time to face reality and Dickface.
Maybe I had been hiding.
A half hour later, we were briefed, and I stopped avoiding Izzy and sought her out instead. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t blink over being in a rapidly deteriorating country where my only mission was to get out as many Americans as possible.
But these weren’t normal circumstances. I had Izzy to think about.
I walked through the crowded foyer of the embassy and stepped into the conference room the congressional teams had commandeered, passing by Parker, who stood guard at the door. It took me all of two seconds to find Izzy in the organized chaos of the room.
She stood in the far corner, a telephone held between her shoulder and ear as the assistants moved files at the edge of the long table. One of them nearly knocked a laptop off the surface. Guess we weren’t the only ones on edge.
After making a quick sweep to make sure Dickface wasn’t on premises, I headed toward Izzy. She was dressed in navy-blue slacks and a blouse that was a lighter shade, her hair in a low bun that looked like it might survive a helmet.
Because wearing a helmet was the only way I was letting her out of this building.
“Of course it’s no bother,” she said into the phone, double taking when she saw me approaching. “You’re the one up in the middle of the night.”
Her eyes were slightly red, and not the I-stayed-up-all-night-being-brought-to-orgasm-again-and-again variety of red I was achingly familiar with when it came to her. She’d done a good job with her makeup, too, but the skin beneath the brown orbs was swollen. She’d been crying. She tilted her chin and held my gaze, as if she was daring me to say something about it.
“Absolutely, Senator Lauren,” she continued.
“We have to talk,” I said, keeping my voice low so the senator wouldn’t hear.
Izzy sighed. “I think there may be some security concerns,” she said into the phone. “The head of our detail needs a word with me.”
I nodded.
“I’ll ask.” She covered the microphone. “Is today’s mission at direct risk?”
“You being in this country is a risk. Three more provinces fell yesterday.”
Her eyes widened, and her knuckles whitened on the phone.
“Not Balkh Province,” I reassured her. “Mazar-i-Sharif is still standing.”
She let out a breath of relief and uncovered the microphone. “Senator, we seem to have an issue. If you don’t mind holding, we’ll get to somewhere more private.”
Izzy motioned toward the door, and I nodded, leading her out of the conference room and into a nearby empty office. I cleared the room with a quick look, then locked the door behind us as Izzy set her phone on the cluttered desk, tapping the speakerphone button.
“We have you on speakerphone, Senator Lauren, but it’s just Sergeant Green and me in this room,” Izzy said, folding her arms across her chest. Something was off about the motion, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Sergeant Green, I understand that you’re my team’s security lead?” the senator asked, her voice surprisingly alert for it being nearly midnight in DC.
“I am, ma’am.”
“What can you tell me about the safety of Isa’s planned trip to Kandahar today?” she asked.
For a split second, I pretended that the woman in front of me wasn’t Izzy, that she was just another aide on just another mission. But she wasn’t. “Kandahar is concerning. The city’s been under siege for months, and hasn’t fallen yet, but all civilians were asked to evacuate six days ago, and the airport is under constant threat. I’m not in favor of taking Ms. Astor into that kind of environment. The team’s visas are here, and as far as I know, the plan is for them to be evac’d tomorrow by the Afghan Air Force. I see no reason for the trip, honestly. Yes, it would be a great photo op, but she can take the photo tomorrow, once they arrive in Kabul. Delivering the visas in person places Ms. Astor in unnecessary danger.”
Izzy shifted her weight and leaned against the cleanest edge of the desk. “I don’t mind the danger.”
“I certainly do,” the senator replied. “And it complicates what I need to tell you.”
I tensed at the tone in the senator’s voice.
“We received a call this evening from the coach, and it seems they’re not comfortable with the evacuation plan.”
Izzy’s brow knit. “They’re not?”
“No. They’re saying that given the status of the city, they don’t trust any of the men claiming to be Afghan Air Force, who are, of course, coordinating the trip.”
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
Izzy chastised me with a single look. “I see.”
“Newcastle asked them what would make them comfortable enough to leave and mentioned that you’re in country, thinking it would give them some reassurance,” the senator continued.