Another picture popped up on the monitor of yet more shops fit so tightly together it was hard to believe people could move between them. But the street out front was broader, and the camera had captured several vehicles zipping past.
“The scent dissipated by then, so we spread out and spent the morning canvassing the area, pretending to be tourists and taking as many photos and videos as we could without looking too obvious. That’s how Harley caught sight of this.”
A video replaced the latest still picture on the screen. It was of a crowd of people milling around some shops while merchants hawked their wares and customers looked through the mishmash collection of leather goods and metal wall art. The sounds of people haggling over prices and city noises filled the air. The clip played for a good thirty seconds before coming to an end.
“Focus on the background,” Harley murmured as Misty played the video again. “Behind the racks of carpets.”
Sawyer did as she suggested, looking more closely this time. That was when he saw the guy in a dark jacket and jeans with long, perfectly straight hair. Right before disappearing through an open doorway behind the racks of carpets, he briefly turned to survey the crowd, like he was looking for a tail. If the hair hadn’t been a dead giveaway, the face was. It was the man from the nightclub. The one who could disappear whenever he wanted to. The one who’d nearly killed Harley.
“We pulled back the moment Harley IDed him, so they wouldn’t spot us,” Jake said as the video played one more time. “I’ve got half our support team sitting on the place and the other half digging up floor plans for that building and the ones on either side. They’re also going over satellite footage so they can tell us how long the bad guys have spent there, how many people there are, and whether there’s any indication the kidnapping victims are in there. We should have something useful in a few hours.”
Sawyer tried to remember the last time his team had gotten access to satellite footage. Oh yeah, that would be never. Americans always got the cool toys.
“When do we go in?” he asked.
“Tonight, as the shops are closing up,” Jake said. “There’ll be enough people around to cover our movements, but the area should be mostly empty, which is good if it ends up being a gun battle.”
They talked about tactics for a little while, discussing how MI6 and STAT would work together during the raid before deciding which half of the joint team would focus on getting the weapons and transportation while the other half went over whatever intel the support team was lucky enough to gather.
Before Harley followed her team out, she threw a curious look his way, like she sensed the tension between him and his teammates. A moment later, Sawyer found himself alone with Erin, Rory, and Elliott. They were all looking at him expectantly.
He was tempted to say the hell with it and shift right there in front of his friends, so he could get it over with and they could walk out the door.
He wasn’t quite that stupid.
Or brave.
“So, the Americans are running this operation, I guess?” Erin asked, looking at him from where she sat on the other side of the table.
Sawyer’s inner wolf didn’t like the idea of letting someone else call the shots for his team, but he was smart enough to admit Jake had more experience with this supernatural crap and he was willing to let the American werewolf take the lead.
“Looks that way,” he said bluntly. “As for what we talked about before, I’m going to need that answer sooner than I thought. We’ll have to come up with a new plan for the raid if the three of you aren’t in.”
Without waiting for a reply, he got to his feet and headed for the door, keenly aware of their gazes on his back. The urge to turn around was difficult to resist, but he didn’t give in. Looking sure as hell wouldn’t make this whole thing any easier.
Chapter 6
Sawyer casually made his way through the darkened streets, moving like he had somewhere to be, but not so fast he’d draw anyone’s attention. Not that it mattered since there were few people out at this time of night to notice him. To the rest, he was one more foreigner in a city full of them. In some ways, it was almost like he was invisible.
He’d spent a little time in Tangier and Marrakesh, but his job had never brought him to Casablanca. The city was a unique mix of old and new, with five-hundred-year-old buildings beside towering skyscrapers. Inhaling slowly through his nose, his senses were flooded by the scents of dust, spices, gas fumes, and sweaty humanity. It should have been a nauseating mix, but somehow this place made it work. Suddenly, Sawyer found himself wishing he had time to sightsee with Harley, like they’d done in Paris. He got the feeling she’d find this city fascinating.
Sawyer pulled his duster a little tighter around him as a man walked past, instinct urging him to make sure his tactical vest and weapons were completely covered. Fortunately, it hadn’t been especially hot today, and now that the sun had gone down and the ocean breeze was sweeping ashore, it had cooled drastically. His long coat didn’t garner a second look even with the excessive amounts of gear he had strapped to his body. Going into this raid with all of it might have been a little overkill for a normal MI6 mission, but after the debacle in Paris, he wasn’t taking chances. If they were walking into a shootout with supernaturals, he was going to be ready.
As he got closer to the building, familiar scents reached his nose. Harley’s was the most
