The team leader seemed a bit confused by the information and the punk kid supplying the information, but he looked to Carter for orders.

“There you have it. The target is on the thirty-third floor,” Carter said. “Take them down, commander.”

With a curt nod, the black-clad agent said, “Okay people, listen up, we’re going to cut a path straight through the main lobby and use this stairwell to access the thirty-third floor. Keep a tight formation and your eyes open. This gentleman is smart and devious. He could have traps or motion detectors. Let’s see them before they see us. Clear.”

The other armored operators nodded in confirmation, and the team prepared to move out.

Nic and Carter slipped on their tactical gear to follow the team after they had swept for threats.

“What about me? Don’t I get body armor, get to kick down some doors?” Burke asked. “I could carry the battering ram thing.”

“Sorry, kid, someone has to stay back and guard the prisoner,” Nic replied. He nodded toward Isabel Price who still sat in the passenger seat of the BearCat. “And I’d take this job seriously if I were you. She’s a wild one. You can see it in her eyes. And she wants Kruger even worse than we do. Don’t let her get loose and screw things up for us.”

“Do I get a gun this time?”

Carter rolled his eyes and said to the SWAT commander, “I need an extra sidearm.”

The commander spoke to one of his men who retrieved a Glock 23 .40-caliber from the Bison. Carter handed the weapon to Burke and said, “There’s no safety on this gun. And it’s only for emergencies, as a last resort.”

Nic looked back toward the BearCat and added, “And don’t let her know that you have that.”

“Why?”

“Because she’ll take it from you.”

Chapter 94

Kruger had much to ponder as he looked out the window at the city of Las Vegas. He had always suspected that Zarina was the true culprit of the squatter camp massacre. The incident had broken a part of his soul. He had killed many people over the years, but almost all were justifiable or reasonable collateral damage. At his core, he didn’t enjoy killing. It was just a necessary evil. And most of his targets were the kinds of monsters who deserved retribution even more than himself.

But Zarina was different.

She took such pleasure in death. Such elation in suffering.

He had always wondered if she had sabotaged the operation that had thrown their lives into turmoil, but he supposed it was easier to blame an arrogant stranger like Raskin. Zarina was his wife, his true family. She always had been and always would be. He supposed it didn’t really matter if she nuked a whole continent, he would love her unconditionally. Because that’s what real love was. It didn’t require a subset of actions and reactions and standards to be upheld. It held no expectations or requirements. He loved her, no matter what.