Volume 6: Targeted Risk
Wednesday. Place, Miami, Florida.
QUENTIN JOON SAT BEHIND the wheel of his rented car, staring at the glare of the sun off the chrome finishes on the dashboard. His insides were in turmoil. He hadn't known a peaceful moment since he'd learned that his CIA partner and mentor was a traitor to the country they'd vowed to protect. Had been for probably all of his career. It was a betrayal he was having difficulty stomaching.
How long had it been going on?
How many times had he been fooled?
When was the last time he'd eaten?
Mentally, he grabbed his thoughts, holding them tight and refocused. He'd had a single-minded focus these last few weeks, even missing Christmas and New Year's with his family. His sisters had sent enough angry texts that he knew he was in hot water. They just had no idea what was going on. What he was doing. The moment he'd landed in Miami, his thoughts had scattered.
It was probably because of Candi Gonzalez.