“Where'd she go?”
Nathan swallows another mouthful of tea and sighs. “We found out four days later when we could circle back and the Republican Guard was gone. She'd hit them, and hurt them pretty badly. Sniper attacks at first, and she ambushed a patrol sent out to try and stop her. She'd taken a couple of frag grenades with her, made them pay. In the end... well, the villagers we talked to never knew for sure, but they think she took out five or six before they got her. The Iraqis were... not kind to her body.”
I look down at my tea, and take a deep breath, setting my tea aside. I don't want it anymore. “Why are you telling me this, Nathan?”
“After that, I just didn't have the heart to serve any longer. My contract with the military was up soon afterward, and I just couldn't do it anymore. You see, Aisha had a cause, one she was willing to die for, Jackson. Katrina does, too. Just... be careful. That's all.”
Nathan's words are still on my mind the next morning when Peter finds me in the dining room. “Well?”
“Well, what?” I ask, sipping my protein shake. I skipped my morning workout in our gym, my body is too damn sore, and I can barely lift my arms past my shoulders. It's got me in a bad mood, especially since I slept like hell last night.
“Have you and Nathan found the bitch?” Peter asks, rubbing at his bleary eyes. I wonder if he's started his drugs and drinking early, or if he's just still coming down from his fucking around last night. “It's been nearly a week.”
“New Orleans is a big city, and it takes time,” I answer, drinking some more of my shake. I've already had my morning oatmeal to go with it, but I need the extra protein if I'm going to recover at all. “Besides, she isn't in town.”
“Well, where the fuck is she?” Peter yells, slamming his hands on the table. “Or have you and Nathan been spending all that time together just sipping tea and sucking each other's dicks?”
I'm on my feet, pissed off. Seriously, this is just too much. “Shut the fuck up, Peter. If you'd calm down and stop acting like King of the Big Easy, I'd be able to answer your question.”
I find that I'm pissed, but it's a cool pissed, if I can explain it. It's like I'm supposed to be pissed, and even though I'm pissed, I'm still under control. My body is exactly where it's supposed to be, standing up, my shoulders squared, showing him I'm not intimidated by his bullshit. My voice is loud, but not shrill, and I feel like I'm the one in control of the conversation.
Peter senses it too, and he wavers. “Fine,” he says after a minute. “So where is she?”
“We've got a lead in Savannah,” I say, pulling a city out of my head. Peter doesn't have any connections in the Savannah area that I know of, and it's far enough away that I can disappear for a few days and he's not going to suspect anything. “Nathan and I were confirming our information, and we were going to take off soon as we could.”
“Well, what the hell are you waiting for?” Peter asks. “Keep me posted. I want updates as you get more info.”
He leaves, and I chug the rest of my shake, rushing off to find Nathan before Peter can trip me up. Thankfully, Nathan's out walking his dog, and I find them in the stable again. “Road trip time.”
“Oh?” Nathan asks. “And where are we going?”
“You're going to Savannah,” I tell him, reaching down and petting Maverick behind the ears. The huge dog woofs softly and pants, happy for the attention. “You think you can be okay by yourself for a few days, Mav?”
Maverick woofs again, but Nathan shakes his head. “If you're heading to Miami, I'm taking Maverick with me to Savannah. I'll take my Tahoe.”
I remember Nathan's Tahoe, an older SUV that is certainly big enough for the giant dog to stretch out in if he puts the back seat down. “Fine by me. I need you to just check in with me from time to time, in case I do need backup. Think we can do that?”
Nathan nods. “I'll go tell Peter, like I just got the information confirmed. I assume you're telling me this because he approached you?”
“He did.”
“That's fine. When do you want to head off?”
“Let me check with her, and we can get going this afternoon. I was thinking you drive, we'll fly.”
“Deal. Well, let me take my dog for a walk, and we'll get ready.”
Chapter 17
Kat
“You don't have a problem with flying?” Jackson asks quietly as we wait in line for the TSA check. “I mean, you said you don't even have a library card.”
“I don't,” I whisper back. “But Kit Misery does.”
I'd prepared for this contingency, and actually have a few false IDs set up, although I doubt any of them are as elaborate as what 'Michael Ball' has. The TSA tends to be overworked and understaffed, and as long as one of my IDs doesn't get flagged for a terrorist watch list, I'll get passed through. I don't have the time to go into it with Jackson here, but he nods and we get through. Ironically, Jackson is the one tagged by the gate agent for an additional pat-down, and he flushes a bit red when the bored, obviously rushed agent cups his balls perhaps a bit differently than the book says.