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Drew paced the length of the room behind Nami. She pattered away at a keyboard, cursing under her breath. Nelson sat beside her, watching the screen she worked on.
“You think Smith is causing the interference?” Drew asked.
“Possible.” Nelson didn’t take his eyes from the screen. “But his reach would have to be much longer than we could have ever imagined.”
“If not him, then what?” Drew continued walking back and forth at a rapid pace. “We were told we’d have access to that drone and now it’s gone.”
“It could be bureaucratic incompetence. Maybe the Pentagon decided they needed it more than we did. The nation’s capitol is in the middle of a massive riot, after all.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I’m not sure what he has to do with it.”
Drew stopped for a moment and stared at the back of Nelson’s head. He’d never heard the man crack a joke before, let alone at such an inappropriate time. Perhaps he’d spent too much time around Ash.
Their entire operation, their first operation, was rapidly turning into an unmitigated disaster. The plan had been to assemble a team, spend a few weeks getting them trained and prepared, and then quietly go after Smith. They didn’t want him to know what they were up to. Instead, they’d slapped everyone together and sent them out into the middle of a riot. And then they’d lost their eye in the sky.
Drew hated everything about it. He’d spent too much time researching the members he’d recruited for the Psych Ward. The weeks he’d used to gather information could have been spent training.
“Bunch of dick lickers.” Nami slammed her tiny fist on the desk. “No one is telling me shit. They don’t know why the drone flew away and cut off its video feed. Or at least that’s what they’re telling me.”
Nelson had attempted to reach President Thomas, but his call had been refused. The disorder in D.C. and the immense media scrutiny over the attack in the subway had Thomas’ full attention. And judging from what Nelson had said earlier, the Psych Ward was already on the president’s hit list.
“We should pull them out.” Drew stepped beside Nelson. “They’re at a huge disadvantage because of the protests.”
Nelson cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing.
“If the crowds start attacking them, our guys aren’t going to fight back. They won’t kill innocent civilians. But Smith’s men will. Jesus, what if they use that weapon they had on the subway? They could turn hundreds of people into savages in a matter of seconds. And then what? We lose all of our people? We lose Ash?”
“We have our orders, Detective.”
“Our orders are to destroy everything we’ve built in our first goddamn mission?”
“We’re to stop Smith at all costs. Immediately. Everything else is secondary. If we don’t stop him here, then we’ll be shut down anyway and all will be lost.”
Drew wanted to punch Nelson.
The man was casually describing the death of his best friend as if he were just a tool at the government’s disposal. Nelson might not care if Asher died, but Drew sure as hell did.
“Screw that.” Drew leaned over the desk and grabbed the microphone on it.
He decided to order them to abort the mission and beat feet out of there. That would be the end of his career. It might land him in prison. He didn’t care.
But he didn’t get the words out.
Tate’s voice came over the speakers in the room.
“Benson is down! We’re under heavy fire!”