It wasn’t that he wasn’t cynical. You couldn’t do this job as long as he had and not cross that line a long time back. Experience without cynicism was a sure sign your brain had dry-rotted and you hadn’t bothered to notice. He went into every high-level meeting these days knowing there were at least three agendas and also knowing he’d only be told one of them.

He put on his jacket and fingered his wallet with one hand, his rental truck keys with the other. He could also run, head for the hills, let Hayes find another lackey to do this job. There were plenty waiting in line. And truth be known, Knox was finding his enthusiasm for locating Carr waning the more he learned about the man and the more he found out about Hayes’ probable reasons for taking down a war hero who’d never gotten his due.

He went down to his truck and debated whether to go to the One T and give it another whirl. He decided that might be worth it but he would do it later. First, he wanted to take a drive around and see what the night had hidden from him. He highly doubted one of those things would be John Carr. He had started out wanting no more than to find the man. Now a part of him was hoping it would never happen. And not just because a run-in with Carr, the grizzly bear of government assassins, would probably not end well for Knox.

It had something to do with justice, a concept Knox had not entirely forgotten, even if his boss apparently had.

Chapter 47

CHAPTER 47

“THERE HE GOES,” said Annabelle. They watched from inside their van parked at the corner as Knox drove off.

“What do we do?” Caleb asked.

“Follow him.” She held up a device. “I’ve got another tracker I can put in that truck.”

Caleb put the van in gear. “You come prepared, I’ll give you that.”

“Just wait till you see what Reuben’s bringing.”

They followed from a discreet distance as Knox did a sweep of the area before parking at the One T and going inside.

“This should be interesting,” said Annabelle with a grin.

Knox sat down at the counter. Herky, who was two seats down and working on his third plate of food, looked up, scowled and moved over next to Knox as the same waitress hurried over to take his order.

“Back again?” said the waitress.

“Thought the night might have refreshed your memory,” Knox said.

“Only thing it refreshed was me knowing I was right to tell you to blow it out your butt.”

Knox dialed back his natural anger and tried his best to keep it light. “Hey, give Uncle Sam’s guy a little more respect than that, will ya?”